#i have most of my Christmas presents sorted i just need to wrap them. some of them are a bit shit though imo

[thedreadvampy]

stressed 🥲

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

More

My entry for the @pickled-pena challenge!

Summary: You meet Javier Peña on a New Years Eve party. A year later you're still together, making plans for the future.

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.3k

Rating: M

Warnings: falling in love, fluff, pregnancy, dumb puns, kissing, suggestive language, awful lot talk of pickles

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A new year always seemed to come with expectations. You never really understood why everyone was expected to celebrate the changing of the years. Why everyone expected everyone to be in a good mood and wanting to celebrate the changing of years.

All New Years eve to you was, was your parents now not needing an excuse to get drunk and party when you were growing up. They were young when you were born. Just out of high school. And they tried, at least in the beginning from what you could remember. 

You did not like New Years eve, and you hated new years resolutions. They never worked for you you, so you didn’t bother. And you did not celebrate New Years.

That was until last year when your best friend dragged you to a house party, making you wear a dress you didn’t like but according to her making you look like a dream. 

You never really went out, too busy with work and spending time in bed reading. 

But his night, maybe after a couple of drinks you made a vow to yourself (not a resolution mind you) to be more open, to get out more, to maybe even find love. 

That it would happen on the same night was not something you could have ever imagined. 

You and Javier met twenty minutes after midnight. 

He invited you for a free drink after saving you from the drunkest man you had ever encountered with the most stupid pick up line ever. You thought he was just being nice to you. It would take almost three weeks for you to figure out that he was genuinely interested in you. 

You were more or less inseparable ever since. 

It was a whirlwind, falling in love with Javier Peña. 

He was still fighting his own demons, having spent years in the drug war in Columbia you only read about in the newspapers about. He had moved to Portland, Texas to be close to his father, but also have a new start where nobody knew him. 

He told you almost everything about his time with the DEA, wanting you to know what kind of person he was, his mind made up about not deserving something good, something to love, to be loved. 

It took some time to make him understand that you were in this for the long haul.

Something that came even more apparent when you found out your were pregnant just five months after making things official with him. 

It’s how you found yourself six months pregnant on a ranch in Laredo, Texas on New Years eve. Javier’s father had invited you both to spend the holidays with him, wanting to get to know you, and while you were hesitant at first because of your past with your family, you quickly found yourself wondering if this was what the future would look like. 

Lazy Christmas mornings spend with Javier in bed before you made breakfast. Chucho insisting on making the whole Christmas dinner, shooing you out of the kitchen everytime you even intended to help. 

Presents wrapped under the Christmas tree.

It was like a dream. 

Javier was out to help his father take care of the animals while you were preparing some potato salad for lunch. You were looking for the glass of pickles (well one of them, you had to have at least four different sorts in the house all the time because you had been craving different kinds) when the door opened behind you. Looking over your shoulder you saw Javier walk in, brushing his hands over his jeans, wearing a Cowboy hat on his head, before he gave you a small smile. 

„Whatcha up to baby?“ He asked, walking over to you. 

„Searching for the glass of pickles I need for the salad,“ you hummed, still on your tiptoes as you looked inside the fridge. 

„Any specific kind?“ He asked. You felt his hand on your back and sighed. 

„The ones with the red label on the jar?“ You said, still looking. They had a shitload of Garlic in them and you were craving garlic pickles. For the salad of course. Just for the salad.

He hummed, pushing the fridge closed and you pouted and turned around, finding him smiling down at you. 

„If I remember correctly you ate the rest of those last night,“ he hummed, wrapping his arms around you. 

You widened your eyes. 

„I did not,“ you hissed.

„Did so. Found the whole jar empty this morning, next to an almost empty bottle of whipped cream,“ he nodded, trying to lean in to kiss you but you narrowed your eyes, bringing one of your hands up, your finger tipping pointing against his chest. 

"You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?“ You asked and he huffed, still smiling. He leaned in, his lips at your ear. 

„I was trying to get some sleep after you jumped me and made me made you cum four times,“ he whispered and your lips parted in mock shock, releasing a shaky breath. 

„I made you? If I remember correctly you were very much into it, Mr. Peña,“ you teased and he shrugged. 

„Never said I wasn’t,“ he finally kissed you and you hummed against his lips. 

„Where’s your dad?“ You asked against his lips. 

„Going to the store to get you your pickles,“ he grinned and you laughed. 

„So that means… We have an empty house to ourselves for what? An hour?“ You asked. 

„He’s gonna visit his brother too, so more like three hours,“ he nodded. 

„Hmm…“ you hummed, bringing our arms up, your hands crossing behind his neck. 

„Mhhh…“ he hummed back, his lips slowly wandering down your jaw. 

„What… ever will we do with all that time?“ You asked innocently. He grinned at you, slowly turning you and walking you towards his bedroom, his lips on yours. 

„Wanna check how often I can hide my pickle inside of you?“ he asked and you both started laughing seconds after. 

„You did not just say that,“ you giggled, shaking your head. 

„Yeah I can not believe I just said that either,“ he shook his head, helping you sit down on the bed when you made it to the bedroom. 

You let yourself fall back, sliding into the middle of the mattress, looking up at him. 

„Only you could say something this stupid and still have me dripping for you,“ you sighed, parting your legs. Hungry eyes followed your every move, your fingers as the slowly pulled on the dress you were wearing, revealing more and more of your skin to his eyes. 

„Yeah?“ He asked, his voice dark.

You let your eyes wander the length of his body, his shirt halfway unbuttoned, his cock already hard inside his jeans. Still wearing that cowboy hat.

„Wanna eat my pussy?“ You grinned and he groaned. 

„Fuck yeah.“

It was in the early morning hours of the new year that you found yourself in front of the fireplace next to the Christmas tree, laying with your back against Javier’s chest.

His father had gone to sleep shortly after midnight, leaving the two of you alone. 

„Any resolutions for the new year?“ You asked him, his hand slowly rubbing over your growing stomach. 

„Many,“ he said, his lips close to your ear. 

„Me too,“ you nodded. 

„Wanna share?“ He asked. You shook your head no.

„Don’t wanna jinx it,“ you said and he sighed. 

„Yeah, me neither.“

„Got one I wanna share though,“ you hummed, a smile playing on your lips. 

„Yeah?“

„Gonna love you even more this year than I did last year,“ you whispered, feeling his arms tightening around you. 

„Still love you more,“ he hummed and kissed you neck.

[daydreaming-en-pointe]

A very Spidey Christmas - Pavitr

CMON THAT FIRST PHOTO IS LITERALLY HIM

Pairing: Pavitr Prabhakar x fem!Spider!Reader (Margo, 1610!Miles, Gwen and 42!Miles are here too [not coloured means no lines, just mentions])

Word count: 742

Warnings: CHEESY AS HELL! Nickname used (meri jaan), Pavitr kinda falls off a building, Mariah Carey lyrics (those deserve a warning don’t they 💀), lil bit of desi coded reader if you squint??

A/N: I know I included lyrics in this but now if I have to hear Mariah Carey crooning about Christmas one more time I will scream 😞

“Pass me those scissors, please?” You managed to mumble around the roll of tape in your mouth, your hands occupied with holding down the corners of wrapping paper which were stubbornly refusing to sit flat and cover the gift properly.

Margo glanced up and shot a web, grabbing the scissors and handing them to you. “Here. Watch out, they’re really sharp.”

“Got it, thanks.” You shifted your elbow onto the layers of paper where the corners met, snipping albeit uneven pieces of tape to secure the haphazard folds. “Wait, where’s Pav? Didn’t he say he would get the ribbons-”

“Meri jaan!”

The familiar nickname drew your attention to the terrace of a building just opposite the balcony. You squinted at the shape of a person, all characteristics hidden by the sun’s glare except for the fact that they were waving their arms hysterically at you and seemed to be holding a megaphone of some sort.

“Pavi…?”

You shared a glance with Margo, who was nervously studying the way that Pavitr was rather precariously standing at the edge of the right corner of the terrace, right next to the safety railing — which didn’t even reach past his knee. Some safety railing.

“This one’s for you!” He yelled, bringing the megaphone to his mouth. “I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need…. I don’t care about the presents, underneath the Christmas tree — I don't need to hang my stocking there upon the fireplace…”

Look, you adored that boy, you really did - everyone knew it. And you knew that he could sing Bollywood songs beautifully if he wanted to. English pop songs, though… specifically Mariah Carey… not so much.

The megaphone crackled and slowly faded out for the next few lines, until Pavitr stopped and bashed it against his palm thrice and it fizzled back to life in time for the most iconic line. “All I want for Christmas… is y-”

Before he could finish his onslaught of mildly terrible singing, too many things happened at once — Pavitr, who had been unknowingly inching toward the edge during his spectacle, toppled off the side of the building, Margo dropped the scissors with a sharp clack, and both variants of Miles leaped through the kitchen window and crashed into the dining table, followed by Gwen gracefully sticking the landing in a crouch before stumbling over the rolls of decorative tape you and Margo had left on the floor and almost falling flat on her face.

Whoops. But then again, you probably had bigger problems.

Namely looking out for the absolute dumbass you had fallen in love with.

You leaped out the window that Miles and Gwen had dived through, shooting a web to the side of the building and using it to pull yourself toward it, then lever yourself down into the small alley on the ground beside it.

“Pavitr, where are you? Wh- Pavi!” You were almost frantic as you spotted the familiar blue-and-red fabric of his suit. You knelt beside him, rolling him over onto his back, your heart in your mouth. His shoulder were shaking, maybe spasming…. was he…

…laughing?

“What the hell, Pavitr,” You complained, watching him get up easily by himself, now in peals of laughter, and pull you in by the waist. “I was worried!”

“I know you were. I’m fine, meri jaan. And I had to profess my love for you in a dramatic, Christmas-like fashion, right? After all, aap sabse achchhe tareekon ke hakadaar hain. (You deserve the fanciest/best stuff) Even if it means belting out Mariah Carey on a random rooftop.”

“Uh-huh. Did Hobie say something that inspired you to do this?” You asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically and biting the inside of your cheek to prevent a smile from breaking through.

“Nope. All my own idea. It had that certain flair, didn’t it? Did you like it?” He widened his eyes in that way that made him look like a sad puppy, still holding onto you.

“…of course I did, my love. But, good grief, you’re such an idiot sometimes,” You sighed, puffing out your cheeks as you blew air through your mouth in exasperation. You gave into his hold, wrapping your arms around his neck while he dipped his head to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Well, I prefer the term hopeless romantic,” Pavitr corrected, giving you one of those sunshiny, I’m-here-with-you-don’t-worry-everything-is-fine grins that, for some reason, could reassure you every time without fail.

“Of course you do. Come inside and help with the presents. No more dangerous stuff, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Meri jaan - my light/my life 😁

@vhstown @l0starl @tatumis-a @deritosmi @hobiebrownismygod @therealloopylupin2099

[27dragons]

New Year Countdown: Dec 22

Of all 32 fics I've written for this countdown (31 days of December plus one for Jan 1, and they're all written!) this one gave me the most trouble. Possibly because I consider "Smaller Without You" to be my definitive Stony soulmate AU? Anyway, have a different Stony Soulmate AU!

Dec 22 - Stony - Soulmates AU - Tinsel

Steve brought his wrapped gifts into the common room to put them under the tree, only to find it surrounded on all sides with stepladders. “What the hell?”

The elevator opened to reveal Tony carrying a stack of boxes nearly higher than he could see over. “Steve! I thought you’d gone skating with the others!”

“No, I had some things I wanted to get done here,” Steve said. “What’s with the ladders?”

“Oh! Well.” Tony put the boxes down. He plucked one off the top and turned it to show Steve. It contained, according to the writing, two thousand strands of silver tinsel. “It was sort of a tradition. The tree would go up right after Thanksgiving, and it was lovely of course. But then on Christmas Eve, my mom would put the tinsel on. It took her half the day - she practically hung every strand individually.” He smiled nostalgically. “When I was older, I got to help, but when I was very little, she’d do it while Jarvis took me out for the day, and when we got back, it was a magical transformation. When they all said they were going to go out skating today, I thought...” He shrugged.

“No, I get it. That’s sweet,” Steve said. “But the ladders?”

“Oh, that’s just so I don’t have to keep moving one around. My other idea was to use the suit, so--”

Steve was laughing. “No, don’t get the suit. You’re ridiculous, Tony, you know that?”

Tony grinned and rocked on his heels. “It’s part of my charm.”

“It’s part of something, anyway,” Steve snarked, ignoring the way his neck grew warm. “Why don’t I help you out, and then you won’t need quite so many ladders?” He folded two of the ladders and set them aside, which gave him enough space to tuck his presents for the team up under the tree’s branches.

“If you insist,” Tony said, handing a box of tinsel to Steve. “I thought you had things to get done, though.”

Steve opened the box and ran his fingers over the shimmering silver strands. “My ma’s tradition was to wait until I was out and then put the presents under the tree. She always swore Santa had come while I was gone, even after I was old enough to know better.”

“Is that why you always wait until the last minute to bring yours out?” Tony asked. “Huh. And here I thought you were just procrastinating with your shopping.”

“You ought to know me better than that,” Steve chided, smiling. “It’s surprisingly hard to find a time when no one is here.”

“Trying to out-stealth the Wonder Twins won’t go very well for you,” Tony warned with a chuckle, “but don’t worry, I won’t out you.”

Steve watched Tony hanging tinsel for a moment so he could match the pattern of it, then went to work. “I’m sorry I never met your mom,” he said after a few minutes. “She sounds like a great lady.”

“She had her faults,” Tony said, “but who doesn’t? I was in awe of her.”

“Anyone who could keep up with Howard had to be awe-worthy,” Steve agreed. “What color were their soulmarks?”

Tony paused. “They weren’t soulmates,” he said. “She was pretty sure the boy who would’ve been hers had died when they were both in school together. Dad never said if he suspected he’d met his, but his wrist was blank his whole life.”

“Oh. Is that why you’re so...”

Tony finished placing a few strands and then raised an eyebrow at him. “So what?”

Steve fought a blush. “You just don’t seem to mind that you haven’t found yours, yet.”

“Well,” Tony said lightly, “if they aren’t as amazing as Pepper, I’m not sure I want to find them. What about yours? Your wrist is still blank, too, but I don’t see you out on the dating scene.”

Steve shook his head. “I’m pretty sure mine died in the war.”

Tony huffed a little. “Well, that brought down the mood. Sorry.”

“No, it’s all right,” Steve said. He picked up another several strands of tinsel and carefully draped them where the tree’s lights would make them dance. “I’ve made my peace with it.”

“But you’re not interested in dating someone if there’s no chance they’ll turn out to be the one who colors your mark?”

Steve lost the fight with the blush, that time. “I didn’t say that. It’s just...”

“Just?” Tony was awfully close, suddenly.

Steve licked his lips, and watched as Tony’s eyes flicked down to his mouth, then back up.

It wasn’t the right moment. But it was never going to be the right moment, was it? This moment was the one Steve had. He took a breath. “Tony?”

“Yeah?”

Steve leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss against Tony’s mouth. “I don’t need a mark to know you’re the one for me.”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

happy au steven mike n reader doing xmas stuff. tree decorating, cookies, etc. if it’s ok to go on from the last happy au ask, then maybe mikes egg hatched and is either lil baby charmander or is now a big strong charizard :> kinda wanted a cute lil thing with steven n reader under the mistletoe bc mike was like “LMAO this’d be funny” and hung it where he KNEW they would stand. also mini request could the reader have a shiny eevee companion? maybe as a gift from one of the boys? -galaxy(imoutofs

Aw yeah holiday sequel!

........

It was Christmas time in Kanto, and every human and Pokémon in town was making their final preparations for the holidays.

You, Steven, and Mike had just finished decorating the outside of the brothers’ home, so now there were a few more things to add inside to get you all hyped for the season.

You never thought you’d be spending Christmas with them, of all people.

But after a rather awkward meeting with Steven, that ended with Miki and your Charizard becoming lovers and having a baby Charmander (who Mike raised to become a strong and powerful Charizard like her mother), here you were years later, having grown closer than ever.

Especially Steven. 

Ever since Blue--and then Red--defeated him and became the new Kanto champion, he decided to settle for a quieter life with you, Mike, Miki, and the rest of his Pokémon team. It was much-needed “retirement” of sorts. The three of you went on vacations to other regions, the most recent being Galar, but returned home just in time for the holidays.

Of course, with both of your Charizards falling in love, it’s no surprise that you’d eventually develop your own feelings for Steven. 

But the truth was that he also had a die-hard crush on you..one that Mike knew very well.

He’s been trying to motivate his little bro for a while to make the first move--to no avail. Despite being quite charismatic with his fans, Steven faltered on genuine romantic things, even though he fell for you because you were the only one who treated him like a person instead of a celebrity. It’s you who he could envision a future with.

He simply didn’t know how to take things further from here.

However, with tonight being Christmas Eve, Mike may have just discovered the perfect plan.

While you were taking cookies out of the oven, the Charizards were playing in the snow, and Steven was adding finishing touches to the tree, the brunette had strategically placed some mistletoe above a gift his brother accidentally left on the sofa. He forgot to put it under the tree when he got side-tracked by other matters. 

‘All according to plan. This should work out just fine.’ Mike snickered, before heading into the backyard. He wanted to make an ice skating rink by using his Blastoise’s new Ice Beam attack.

Shortly after he left, Steven turned around and noticed the gift. “Crap, I forgot all about this one..”

“You forgot what?” You peeked out of the kitchen, taking off your mitts and leaving them on the counter. The cookies were cooling down now, so you decided to investigate what was going on in the living room.

He picked up the present and looked at you, standing rather awkwardly. “I was gonna put this under the tree but got caught-up in other stuff.”

“Oh! Is that for Mike or-?”

“You.”

“Awh, sweet!” Grinning, you took it from his hands, looking down at its spherical shape. “Y’know, in some traditions it’s okay to open one present on Christmas Eve.” Then you looked up at him, eyes shimmering. “Do you mind I choose this one?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Sure. Go for it.”

“Thanks!” You removed the wrapping paper, stuffing it into your pocket so you didn’t make a mess on the floor. And it was revealed to be a...

Pokeball?

“Huh..nice. Just what I always wanted.” You snickered sarcastically. “My very own standard pokeball.”

Steven was flustered, but before he could say anything, the device opened up by itself to reveal-

“...oh my gosh, is that a Shiny Eevee?!!!” Your eyes widened in shock for a few moments, before you hopped up and down in happiness, scooping the silver-furred Pokémon into your arms. “I love it!!”

It seemed just as happy to be your companion as it uttered a joyful “vee”, before wriggling out of your arms to curl around your shoulders instead. There, it nuzzled its nose against your cheek. You grinned and rubbed its ears. “It’s so cute. Thank you, Steven!”

You hugged him tightly, feeling him tense up for a moment before he returned the hug, smiling lightly. His heart was hammering in his chest at the closeness.

‘We fit perfectly in each other’s arms..’ His smile grew softer, wondering if this was now the right time..

But his eyes wandered up to the ceiling, and that’s when he realized...

There was mistletoe directly above you both.

“Huh, that’s funny.”

His face exploded into a blush as he looked back at you, seeing that you noticed it as well. And you just had a staring contest for what seemed like an eternity.

“Well..you know what they say about traditions.” You winked.

“I-”

But Steven was barely able to get a single word out, as you quickly pecked him on the lips. Only for a second, though this was a moment he’ll never get out of his head.

You were actually kissing him.

When you pulled away, you chuckled. “Awh, your face is as red as a Shiny Gyarados.” You teased softly. “Too bad you can’t hide it behind all your hair.”

Your Shiny Eevee seemed to agree, as it giggled at his flabbergasted expression.

“Now, what were you trying to say before?”

“...[y/n]..I-I...um...” Steven was completely tongue-tied right now. 

There was a lot he wanted to say in this moment.

So much that he wanted to tell you-

-click-

Startled, you jumped out of each other’s arms and saw Mike standing there with his Rotom Phone, a grin spreading from ear-to-ear. “Oh that’s cute. I’m totally posting this on my Pokégram!” He laughed, though he tensed when Steven began fuming. “Now, now bro..what do we say?”

“Mike...”

“..uhhh...hey I-I think Blastoise is calling me!! H-He learned how to use telepathy now so bye!!”

“YOU GET BACK HERE!!”

Mike sprinted away laughing, while Steven chased him outside, hellbent on ensuring he didn’t post that image of you two.

All the while, you stood there with the Shiny Eevee still on your shoulder, petting its fur. “Heh, brothers..am I right?” You sighed, shaking your head in amusement.

“Vee, vee.” It nodded.

“...I hope he likes the Shiny Applin I found in Galar. Do you think he’ll like it?”

“Hmm...Eevee!”

[snoozingredpanda]

Happy holidays! How are the girls celebrating this year with reader?

Happy holidays!! I haven’t written in ages so bear with me lol. I’ve also added my newest OC, Lockie :)

—

Holidays with the Girls [Benni, Nox, Fenix, Rudy, Lockie]

GN!Reader

Warnings: Loneliness, depression, anxiety, accident resulting in a physical disability

—

Benni

• Benni absolutely loves the holiday season. It’s her favourite, after Halloween. She loves Christmas traditions, such as decorating her dorm room, cooking lots of festive foods and gifting her friends presents.

• Before she met you, she didn’t have many people to gift, and often gave presents to people she knew were a little lonely like her, such as the collage dinner ladies, the principle, and even the weird kid who sat alone at lunch. She loves seeing their eyes light up, especially when they open it and find something that Benni had spent hours choosing.

• And when you came along into her life, she had even more fun with her holiday cheer. She loves going shopping with you to find Christmas jumpers and gingerbread house kits, piling the shopping cart with decorations she definitely does not need yet wants anyways.

• She loves picking Christmas films to watch with you, curling up on the couch together, wrapped in a million blankets to keep the cold out. Her favourites are Deck the Halls and The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. She always says the grinch reminds her of her mother, laughing gently as she does.

• Baking cookies with you on Christmas Eve is one of her most treasured memories. The two of you flinging flour at each other, covered in cookie mix, taking minutes at a time to kiss whilst baking. It takes almost all night, but when you’re done, you leave the cookies and some milk out for Santa.

• And yes you do sneak out to eat the cookies and drink the milk to give Benni a little bit of serotonin the next morning and feed into her longing for a childhood, even if it’s a little late.

• On Christmas Day she gives you many gifts, each one carefully picked out to make sure you give her one of your special smiles.

• And when you give her your present, she finds herself grinning ear to ear, no matter what it is. Just the fact that you’ve given her something makes her happy, her heart bursting with love.

• And if you don’t celebrate Christmas, don’t worry! Benni will certainly celebrate whatever holiday you do, and put her best effort into it no matter what it is! She just loves spending time with you and doing all sorts of festive things.

Nox

• Nox doesn’t like holidays. She doesn’t like the lights, or the songs, or even the gifting. It’s all just such a drag to her. Too much fun and laughter and cheer. Or at least until she meets you.

• Whatever holiday you celebrate, she’ll put in an adequate amount of effort. She won’t go out of her way to do things on her own, but if she sees a decoration she knows you’ll like, she’ll buy it and sneak it into the box holding all the decorations, pretending it was there already.

• The only good thing about the festive season is the food. She loves your cooking, and if you cook a nice big Christmas dinner, she’ll be eating it up with gusto. Your cooking is just so good, and she can’t get enough of it. Munching on turkey, stuffing, vegetables, pigs in blankets, anything you cook.

• But if you want to meet up with your family, and force her to come… she’s not going to be the life of the party, that’s for sure. She’s awkward around your family, and doesn’t like when your mother puts on loud songs, or your father asks her to toast before dinner. She’ll put up with it, as long as you promise to call her in sick next year.

• As much as Nox dislikes Christmas and holidays in general, there is one situation where she’ll go all out: if you have kids.

• Whether they’re from a previous relationship or you’ve decide to have one together, Nox will make sure Christmas if the very best for them. She’ll decorate and bake, and put on songs, and move those stupid elf on the shelf things around while they’re in bed.

• You’ll find her reading stories to them, about Santa and reindeer and elves and puddings, laying them to rest on Christmas Eve. Afterward, she’ll fill their stockings and eat all their cookies and milk, even eating the carrots left for Santa’s reindeer. One year, she even got flour and walked around in big boots, making it look like Santa had come all the way to the tree from the kitchen.

• It’s adorable how much she loves the kids. 10/10 would recommend, but only if they’re your kids. Warning: Does not like any other kids.

Fenix

• She didn’t celebrate Christmas at the hospital, it just made her want to strangle people more than normal. Mostly the annoying songs the nurses would blurt down the corridors, and the stupid flashing lights that blinded her whenever she looked through the peephole of her door — all the small things about the holiday season irritated her.

• While all the other patients were singing and laughing on Christmas Eve, Fenix was locked away in her room, reading. By choice, that is.

• The only good part about Christmas was that the nurses would get her a new set of books as a gift, which she’d read obsessively due to having read all the others. But after a few weeks, that joy dies down, and she’s back to mopey old Fenix.

• When you come into her life, you force her to decorate her room. A small plastic Christmas tree, some fairy lights hung across her headboard, even a Santa plush on her bookshelf. It takes every single fibre of her being not to rip them down, but since you put them there, she can’t bring herself to.

• You bombard her with festive traditions, making her create cards with you, with glitter and stickers, help her wrap gifts (which you’d chosen out since Fenix honestly didn’t care about the other patients and often wondered why she should even give them anything), you even got permission to take her to the hospital kitchens to bake cookies.

• But then Christmas Day rolled around and Fenix was alone again. Hardly anyone worked today, just a few nurses who didn��t have a life, or just didn’t celebrate Christmas. She’s reading in her room, occasionally looking up to the window, watching snowflakes fall.

• When you open the door, holding a present, she’s incredibly surprised. Why? Why were you here, with her, on Christmas!?

• It was the first time that she wished Christmas wouldn’t end.

• Ever since then she’s loved spending the holidays with you. Even after she gets out of the hospital, she’s always excited for Christmas, and all other holidays. Just because she gets to spend them with you, and that she’s not alone anymore. You’re truly the best gift she could ask for.

Rudy

• Literally does not know what Christmas is.

• She’s a dragon, she doesn’t know about festivals and gift giving and decorations and all that. She simply has no clue about any traditions that humans take part in.

• However she does know that one month a year, all the humans in the town below her mountain like to hang up the prettiest of lights and shine them bright every night.

• She’ll fly down and hide in a tree, watching each house light up with whites, blues, greens and reds. Flashing and blinking at her as if to say hello! She loves these lights, reflecting off of the cold snow, illuminating the entire village.

• Most nights she spends watching them, feeling the chill in her lungs, but she doesn’t care. The lights are too beautiful for her to go back to the comfort of her nest.

• And when the snow starts to melt, the humans take away Rudy’s beloved lights, and she has to wait 11 whole months until they come back up.

• She’ll take you when you become her mate. She’ll fly you down to watch them with her, telling you all about how gorgeous the lights are, that they’re like the stars. But since you’re human, you soon grow cold, and she has to take you back to the warm nest. She’s a little sad, and no matter how many times you tell her to go alone, she doesn’t want to leave you.

• One day, however, you take a trip to town, and bring back a box. Rudy watches you as you hang strange black wire everywhere, and as night falls and you press a button, all of the wire shines bright, and she’s left open-mouthed, gawking at the beautiful lights.

• They’re so close, in her nest — she can even touch them. She stays up night after night, just gazing at the pretty lights, only falling asleep when she’s too tired to keep her eyes open. She’ll snuggle up next to you, a dopey smile on her lips. She’s the happiest she can be.

Lockie

• As a pilot for the air force, Lockie didn’t get a lot of time to spend home. Occasionally she’d get a few weeks off, maybe a day here or there, but other than that, nothing. Christmas time was one of the only times she got to spend with her family, and she was grateful for that.

• She doesn’t celebrate Christmas, but instead she celebrates Hanukkah, spending her whole few weeks off with her family, which she truly values. She knows that her job is dangerous, and that she has to savour her time with them, and despite not usually celebrating cultural traditions, she still participates in the festival of lights, since she knows it means a lot to them. Plus, she loves the food her step-mother makes especially for the season.

• It was her favourite time of year, those few weeks where all she needed to do was appreciate her loved ones, and watching her father light the Menorah each night.

• It changed after the accident.

• She had a lot more free time now to spend with her family, but Lockie was a changed woman. Being tasked with a newfound disability gave her a lot of mental struggles, and her ability to connect with her family was harmed. They still treated her as their beloved daughter, but it was still hard.

• It wasn’t until she met you did she spend Hanukkah with her family again. With you by her side she was able to overcome her fears of being different, and enjoy herself. It didn’t matter if you celebrated it or not, but she just loved having you there to help her along with her struggles, and help her calm down after a panic attack.

• Her family loved you, and thanked you for helping their daughter find herself again, and become confident, like she was before the accident. They know she’s scarred both mentally and physically, and that she won’t be the same, but they also know that you’re there to help and nurture her, and keep her going through rough times.

• As for Christmas, if you celebrate it, Lockie would certainly celebrate it with you. She’d put in her best effort, even though she’d never celebrated it before. It was more the aspects of love and gratitude she liked, and seeing you smile on Christmas morning while unwrapping the presents she got you. She loves you so much, and would do anything for you, no matter what.

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Hiya!! So I think I asked you this a long time ago, so I'm sorry if it's repetitive, but I was wondering if you could recommend me a Elizabeth Gaskell novel? :) In your opinion, which one should I start off with? Hope u don't mind this ask haha

I'm really sorry, lately it's taking me a while to answer asks :(

I want to make a full guide on Gaskell at some point... when I have finished reading her work. The fact that I haven't read, for example, Mary Barton or Sylvia's Lovers yet influences my recommendations (but of course anyone who has read them can chime in!)

A lot of people, I daresay most, begin Gaskell by North and South, mostly because the 2004 series is very famous and beloved, so they watch it and go for the book. And probably don't read anything by her again because they are disappointed.

I don't think it's the absolute worst place to begin (Ruth would probably be it; it's a very heavy, tragic, sad novel, a blunt social commentary with some reminiscences of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, but not with the dexterity that one has), but it's not a good one; the whole process of writing the book and finishing it was plagued by Dickens being jealous and bothersome, which ended up producing some uneven pacing and dei ex machina. Besides that, it sits in a weird spot where it is too bleak for The Austen ReaderTM but not Gothic enough for The Brontë ReaderTM.

The thing with Gaskell is that she was a prolific author who tried her hand at different genres and subgenres, ad who wrote short stories, novellas, and novels. Where to start will depend a lot on what are you the most interested in reading.

If you want something sort of like Austen, the best bet to get an idea of her style and the tone of her lighter work is Mr Harrison's Confessions. It's a fun, cliche story. If you want to commit to a novel, Wives and Daughters is also light and "austenesque", and vastly considered her best work. It is unfinished, but unfinished very, very close to the end (only the last wrap up of the wrap up is missing, but even then most editions carry an editor's note with an explanation of the general idea of what Gaskell had planned for that before she died).

Six Weeks at Happenheim is a bucolic story set in Germany, about a man recovering from illness.

Cranford is more of a bridge novel, also short-ish, between the lighter and the more melancholy, mournful type of story (such as My Lady Ludlow or Cousin Phillis) of reminiscence she used to write.

The 2007 Cranford series is a mash up of Cranford, My Lady Ludlow, and Mr Harrison's Confessions.

Gaskell also wrote several Gothic stories; I haven't read many of those, but I can recommend The Doom of the Griffiths and Lois the Witch as good examples.

She also wrote what I think was the first biography of Charlotte Brontë, titled The Life of Charlotte Brontë. I got this one as a present this Christmas and it is the next work of hers I intend to read!

So... where to start with Gaskell? Another important thing to keep in mind is that, as a writer, she takes her time to set the mood. She likes her purple prose, and you need to slow down to her pace, specially in her novels. So if you had a hard time with, for example, the rhythm of Jane Eyre, perhaps trying a shorter story first to see how you jive with her style of writing can be a good idea.

In short: if you want more of a Austen-y mood, try either Mr Harrison's Confessions or Wives and Daughters.

If you want more of a mix of humor and melancholy, like a distant cousin to the tone of Sense and Sensibility, try Cranford. Also try Cranford if you think stories about old ladies matter!

If you want to read her most famous work at this point, do try North and South. Just don't take it as completely representative of all her work or her talent as a writer. It is a good representation of the social aspect of her novels, and I have heard very often that it is an interesting complement/contrast with Mary Barton (which was her first novel).

If you want some Gothic goodness, start by The Doom of the Griffiths.

[foundtherightwords]

Love in a Mist - Chapter 9 (final chapter)

Pairing: Hellcheer Regency AU or Regency!Eddie Munson x OFC (for more info, see A/N of Chapter 1)

Summary: Christine Conyngham, a young debutante whose marital prospects are less than ideal, believes her happiness is secure when she falls in love with Joshua Craven, the handsome future Duke of Hauxwell. However, after her lack of a fortune prevents her and Joshua from marrying, Christine impulsively accepts the proposal of Edward Munson, the eccentric Baron Hurstfield, who is in need of a wife to obtain an inheritance. But with her heart still pining after Joshua, can Christine learn to love her husband and build a life with him?

Series Warnings: sloooooow burn (it's a fucking novel, I'm sorry), angst, suicide attempt, mentions of domestic abuse, some smut in later chapters. Also, my deepest apologies to the people of Yorkshire for the accent and any other details I might have butchered.

Chapter Warnings: angst, idiots in love, characters being just plain idiots

A/N: Honestly I kinda hate this, but I want to wrap up all the external conflicts and have some sort of climactic ending, so here we are.

Chapter word count: 5.7k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Christine had never understood the word "honeymoon". Though she knew what it meant, she never thought about why it was so. But now she did. For now, seven months after their wedding, her marriage finally had its honeymoon. And it was truly as sweet as honey. The only difference was that it didn't show any sign of waning after just one moon. She and Edward couldn't seem to keep their hands off of each other, always snatching some little moments or finding a discreet place to pull each other into a kiss or something more, in the parlor, in the conservatory, while they were out riding. Edward even had his place setting at the dining table moved closer to hers, so they could sit next to each other at meals and hold each other's hand across the table.

They had their disagreements, of course, like any other couple. Most of their quarrels were about Edward's general stubbornness - in his refusal to modernize Hurstfield Hall (the conservatory being his only concession) and his rebuff of the local gentries, as he insisted that they were all snobs and boors, while Christine pointed out that he, too, was being snobbish in looking down on them, and that he was not the model of politeness either. But they always managed to resolve their differences eventually. Christine agreed that Hurstfield would not be Hurstfield without its oak half-paneling and stained glass windows; Edward agreed to let her put up brighter curtains and wallpapers. Edward promised to be more civilized to their guests and return their calls; Christine promised these calls would not last longer than half an hour.

Sometimes, as she watched the flickering of the fire through his hair while falling asleep in his arms, or when she saw him smiling at her as she opened her eyes in the morning, Christine wondered if this was love. Edward had never said he loved her. And the way she felt about him was certainly different from how she felt about Joshua. But she had learned not to compare Edward to Joshua. With Edward, she felt safe, and that was enough.

It was almost Christmas, and they were sitting in the parlor together, discussing the plan to give a Christmas dinner at Hurstfield Hall. The parlor had quickly become Christine's favorite room in the house, and it was particularly cozy that dreary December day, with a cheery fire blazing in the hearth and the glimpses of salmon-pink and scarlet geraniums peeking in through the conservatory. Christine was working on Edward's present - an embroidered banyan and matching slippers - and feeling quite domestic.

The footman came in with the mail. Edward sorted through them and handed Christine a letter. Even before she opened the seal, Christine glimpsed her mother's handwriting and she winced. After her recovery, Christine had made a resolution to be kinder to everyone in her life and started to dutifully write to her mother at least once a month. Her mother, on the other hand, only wrote back once or twice, mostly to complain of her financial difficulties (though Christine knew Edward was paying the rent for Mrs. Conyngham's London townhouse, so she couldn't have struggled too much.) A letter from her wouldn't bode well, and Christine hated for it to ruin her relaxing afternoon.

And sure enough, it didn't contain any good news. In it, Mrs. Conyngham said that she was very ill indeed and wished to see her daughter "one last time".

"Do you believe it really is that serious?" Edward asked, after Christine showed him the letter.

"I don't know. My mother always has a penchant for the theatrical. But..."

"But if it turned out to be true, you wouldn't be able to forgive yourself?"

Christine looked at him with a conflicted sigh. Edward squeezed her hand sympathetically. "We shall go to London, if you want," he said. "The letter makes no mention of me, but who knows, perhaps the return of her prodigal son-in-law may shock your mother into being well again." She laughed at that and gave him a quick kiss. Yes, with Edward by her side, she would be able to face her mother.

***

The journey to London was both familiar and strange to Christine. The roads were the same; the weather was the same as when they made that miserable journey from London to Yorkshire, and even Edward had his nose buried in a book as usual. Back then, though, he had been sitting across from her, distant, impenetrable, and she had been lost, frightened, not knowing what lied ahead, while this time, he was sitting next to her, with one arm around her, and despite a slight apprehension about her mother, Christine's heart was light. In fact, she felt a little thrill of pride to show her mother how happy she was, how well Edward had taken care of her.

The house in Hanover Square was so quiet and the maid answered the door with such calm that Christine immediately knew her mother wasn't ill, or at least no longer ill. Her mother always made a terrible fuss whenever she was ill. Her suspicion was confirmed when they were shown into the drawing room and found her mother stretched out on the chaise longue in a morning gown, looking the picture of health.

"Darling, how glad I am that you are come back!" Mrs. Conyngham beamed at the sight of Christine, but her face fell when she saw Edward following behind. "Oh. And you as well, Edward."

Christine bent down to kiss her mother's powdered cheek. "How are you, Mama? We were so worried; your letter made it sound like your illness was quite serious."

"Oh, yes, my heart had been troubling me a great deal!" Mrs. Conyngham said excitedly. "Why, just last night I had such spasms in my chest that I thought I should not be able to wait for your arrival. But now that you are here, all is well. In fact, I'm thinking of hosting a little reception tonight. After all, we never had a chance to properly celebrate your wedding..." As her mother continued in her usual way, not caring who was listening, Christine glanced at Edward, concerned. Her mother was scheming something, and she was sure she wouldn't like it.

Later, as they were alone in her room, Christine said as much to Edward. "Do you want to leave?" he asked.

Christine pondered. "We're here already, so we might as well stay," she said.

"Very well. We'll stay for the reception. There is some business in town that I need to take care of, and I want to visit the Misses Hargrove" - these were the ladies whose handbills Edward often distributed in Covent Garden - "to give them a report of how well our village school is doing. But once all that is done, we'll leave."

"Will you promise to be civil at the reception?"

"Oh, I promise," he said with his familiar grin, as he leaned in to kiss Christine. "I shall be so civil, they scarcely know me."

***

Edward kept his promise. As Mrs. Conyngham presented him to her guests, he went through the motion of bowing and exchanging a few words with them. One of them started complaining about the poor hunting on his estate and asked if there were foxes at Hurstfield. Edward replied, "I'm afraid we have nothing but sheep."

"Oh, are they good hunting?" the other gentleman said, all serious.

Christine saw Edward's lips twitch as he prepared some barbed remarks, but a glance from her sobered him up. With visible restraint, he said, "I suppose they are, for you," and left the gentleman baffled.

For her part, Christine was tense. Her mother kept looking at the door and smirking, so Christine knew she was waiting for a special guest. Who could it be, and what would that person have to do with Christine? As she pondered, a horrible notion formed in her mind. Surely, her mother wouldn't be so foolish... but then she remembered how her mother had willingly, readily sent his letter to her...

And her fear was realized when the butler announced, "The Duke of Hauxwell, ma'am," and Joshua walked in. So he was the Duke now. She remembered reading about his father's passing a few months ago.

Despite her effort to prepare herself, Christine couldn't imagine that seeing Joshua again would affect her so strongly. She had thought that the time apart would make him lose some of his charm, but the moment she saw him, it was as if no time had passed at all. He still looked the same, with his blonde hair and shining blue eyes and Grecian profile, but with an air of confidence from his newly inherited title that made him even more attractive. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest, and she went hot, and then cold, and then hot again. She could feel the old weakness coming back. She tried to remember how she'd felt when she threw the posy ring into the Ure, the vow she'd made to herself, but it was just a blur. She looked wildly about, searching for Edward, hoping to lean on him for strength. But he was nowhere to be seen. Where was he?

"Lady Hurstfield." Joshua approached her with a brilliant smile and took her hand. "It's been so long since we last met."

"Lord Craven," Christine said. Her voice shook, and she corrected herself, "I beg your pardon, I mean Your Grace. I'm sorry about your father."

"Thank you." They were only saying the most ordinary things imaginable, but it sounded to her as if every word was filled with unspoken sentiments that only they could understand.

"Is Lady Hauxwell not joining us tonight?" she said, trying to ignore the feeling of his thumb rubbing over her palm. "I've so long wished to meet her."

"She sent her regrets; she is not feeling well." Joshua looked around. "And Lord Hurstfield...?"

"He's here... somewhere." Where was Edward? He'd known Joshua was the other man, known it from the letter he found in Christine's room, but they had avoided speaking of it, much like a man avoided touching his wound as it was healing, so she didn't know what Edward thought of her past. Did he feel threatened by it, and was that why he had disappeared? Was his ego really so fragile that he couldn't bring himself to face Joshua?

"You're looking well, Lady Hurstfield," Joshua said, and the longing in his voice was more than Christine could bear.

"Please, excuse me." She broke from his grasp and fled into the boudoir.

The room was dark, lit by a single candle. She threw open the window to let the cold air bathe her burning cheeks and tried to slow the thundering of her heart. She had barely caught a breath when the door opened again. She turned around, almost hoping to see Edward. But it was Joshua, who closed the door behind him, swept her into his arms, and covered her mouth with his. The wildfire was reignited, raging in her and all around her, and she was helpless in its path.

She didn't know how much later that Joshua let her go. She was only dimly aware that he had to lower her into a chair because her knees had given out, and then he sat down in front of her and took both of her hands in his, kissing them. "My darling, my love," he crooned, "have you missed me?"

Missed him? "Missed" was such an inadequate word to describe the yearning she had felt during those early months of her marriage, a yearning that had quieted down lately but had never really gone away. And he had the audacity to ask if she missed him! She wrenched her hands out of his grasp and started hitting him. "Missed you! Is that all you could think to ask?" she cried. "Have you any idea how miserable I've been? Did you know I almost died because of you?"

Joshua stilled her in his arms and dropped kisses on her hands, her neck, her eyes, her lips. "Oh my love, if I could have done things differently, don't you think I would? I had no choice. You know that. But I'm here now, and I can make it up to you."

"How?"

"I love you, and will always love you. Our parting was just temporary. Now our love can resume."

Understanding finally dawned in Christine's mind. "An affair, you mean?" she said. "Am I to be your mistress?"

Joshua didn't hesitate to answer. "Well, yes, if you must put a label on it."

Christine sat back, dazed. A few months ago, she had considered the idea of letting Edward have affairs if she couldn't fulfill her marital duties, and had found it distasteful. But now, when placed with the same possibility for herself, she wasn't sure what to think. A part of her was thrilled that Joshua still loved her, and flattered that he would still pursue her. Another part of her was furious, with herself as much as with Joshua.

"What about your wife?" she asked.

"You don't have to concern yourself with her."

"What about my husband?" Then she added, perhaps a touch unwisely, "He knows about us."

"That makes it more convenient, doesn't it?" Joshua said, smiling.

"He won't leave Yorkshire." What was she doing? Why was she talking as if she was actually considering his offer?

"I can offer him a position in court, or in parliament," Joshua said. "He'd be a fool to turn it down. That way he shall have to come down to London more regularly, and we can see each other."

"You have thought everything through, haven't you?" She was surprised at the rather cool tone of her voice.

"I know this is too sudden," Joshua said. "You don't have to give me an answer now. Take some time to think about it." Christine flinched when she remembered Edward had said the same thing when he proposed to her. "But just know that I love you, and will always love you." He kissed her again and went out, leaving her with thoughts screaming inside her head like wild animals rattling at a cage, in the cold, dark, and empty room.

No, not quite empty. As soon as the door clicked shut, a voice sounded from the far end of the room, "That was quite a touching reunion."

Edward. He was sitting up from the depth of an armchair, his eyes dark and his face expressionless.

"It's not what you think," Christine said automatically. That was what one was supposed to say, was it not, when caught in a compromising position?

"I don't know what to think."

"I was caught by surprise when he arrived, that was all. This was my mother's doing. She never thinks you are good enough for me..."

"She didn't push you into his arms, did she?"

She might as well have, but Christine didn't say that. She went to him and took his hand. "Edward, please. Let us go home. We were so happy there..."

"All right, let's say we go home. Then what? What would you do if he arrived at Hurstfield and asked you to run away with him? Would you have the strength to say no?"

He didn't raise his voice, but the coldness in it chilled her to the bones. "I..."

"I saw your face when he walked in. I saw you with him. I remember what happened the last time he wrote to you. The power he has over you." He looked at her. "I can't compete with that," he said, his voice muted. "I shan't."

"What... what are you saying?"

"If you want him, you're welcome to him."

She wanted to scream I don't want him!, but couldn't. It wouldn't have been the truth.

"Are you asking me for a formal separation then?" she asked, trying to regain a modicum of pride. "Like the Prince and Princess of Wales?"

"Plenty of people have affairs without bothering with a separation." He was still looking at her, devoid of emotions. The light from the candle caught the side of his face, and she could see the only part of him that moved was the working of his jaw muscles, as though he was grinding his teeth, crushing something terrible between them.

"Oh yes, I forgot, you will lose your inheritance if we separate." Christine hated herself for bringing it up, but she had to say something to get a reaction out of him, to break through that impenetrable wall.

Edward, however, only tightened his jaws even more, before answering calmly, "If you're worried about scandals, then rest assured, I shall behave impeccably."

"So you're willing to let me cuckold you?" she spat out.

He refused to rise to the bait. "I'm not letting you do anything. I am not your master."

"But you are my husband, and I need you to act like it!" She was crying now, from anger and frustration more than heartache.

"By doing what? Challenging Hauxwell to a duel? What would that achieve? Would that convince you to stay?" When she didn't answer, he leaned forward to peer at her face. "Fine, this is me acting as your husband then: I only want the truth from you, Christine. Do you still love him?"

Christine remained silent, and that seemed enough for Edward. His lips quivered briefly, then he turned away from her and stood up. "I told you, I can't make you do anything. The choice is yours."

He left as well, and Christine was alone, truly alone now. Both of the men in her life had failed her. Joshua had insulted her by asking her to be his mistress. Edward didn't trust her. For some reason, this hurt a lot more than Joshua's casual proposition. The past few months meant nothing to him. He was ready to believe that she would throw their marriage away and run off with Joshua. But, another voice said in the back of her mind, you haven't given him any reason to believe otherwise, have you? Not when you almost swooned just at the sight of Joshua walking into the room. If you weren't going to leave, why didn't you say so? You wanted him to act like a husband, but have you acted like a wife?

She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. 

***

Edward spent the night in the dressing room, in a strange parallel to their wedding night. Through the wall, Christine could hear him moving about, and a part of her wanted to go to him, to apologize and reassure him of her affection, but another, prideful part of her wanted him to grovel first, to assure her that he was certain of her affection.

In the morning, he was gone, and so were his things. He had taken the carriage. He left no note, no message, but Christine assumed he had gone back to Hurstfield. Mrs. Conyngham took great offense at that.

"Really, sneaking off like a thief in the middle of the night," she complained over breakfast. "And after I have sent out invitations for a Christmas party in the name of Lord and Lady Hurstfield as well! How would I explain his absence to the guests?"

"You can't expect him to stay in a house where he is not welcomed," Christine said.

"What are you talking about?" her mother said, her eyes narrowing. "How have I not welcomed him?"

"By inviting the Duke of Hauxwell."

"Nonsense!" Her mother gave an affected toss of her head, causing the tight, carefully arranged ringlets around her face to bounce against her cap. "His Grace begged me to arrange it so he could see you..."

"And so you whored out your own daughter?" Christine didn't know where the venom in her own voice was coming from, but she didn't regret it. Her mother froze in the middle of pouring herself a cup of chocolate.

"Christine!" she hissed, glancing at the maid standing at attention by the door.

But Christine was relentless. "Because you would rather have your daughter as the whore of a duke, than the wife of a baron," she continued. "Really, Mother, does your social climbing know no bounds? If you have no care for me, at least have some self-respect."

Her mother was spluttering with outrage now. "I do care about you! I was doing what I thought was best for you!"

"No. You only ever do what is best for you, and I've had enough of it." Not staying to watch the look of shock on her mother's face, Christine swept out of the breakfast room. Exhilaration coursed through her veins. Was this what Edward meant about making her own choice? Her whole life, she had let her mother dictate what she did - even when she thought she was doing something for herself, falling in love with Joshua, marrying Edward, it was only because she wanted to defy her mother. Well, no more of that.

She heard a knock on the front door. A moment later, the maid announced that the Duke of Hauxwell was there to see her. Christine had half a mind to tell the maid to turn him away, but before she could, Joshua had stormed into the room. He didn't smile at her; in fact, he looked furious.

"That husband of yours has a nerve," he said, with no preamble whatsoever.

"What did he—" Her argument with Edward the night before came back. Was this why he left so early? "Dear God. He didn't challenge you to a duel, did he?"

Joshua let out a derisive snort. "Ha! If only he had the gall, I would gladly put a bullet into the coward." When he saw Christine go pale at that, Joshua took her hands and patted them soothingly. "Now, now, darling, I was only joking!" He continued, "No, he went to my house this morning and demanded to speak to me. I had just gotten to bed! A gentleman should know never to call before noon. It was most awkward, having to explain it to my wife. And when I finally admitted him into my study, did you know what he said? He told me that if I agreed to divorce Amelia, he would divorce you, so we could marry." He mistook the look of shock on Christine's face for support. "Yes, that's exactly how I felt too. It was ridiculous. I almost laughed at him. I told him it is impossible. Why, even the Prince Regent failed to get a divorce from his wife! When I pointed this out to him, he only said if I truly loved you, I would do this instead of compromising you with an affair. And I said, my dear fellow, how would a divorce be less scandalous than an affair? And I couldn't possibly request a formal separation from Amelia, not when she is expecting and on bed rest."

Christine was stunned. The pregnancy was news to her. So he was proposing an affair to her, while his pregnant wife was bed-ridden...

Joshua was still ranting, "He said I should've thought of that before going behind her back. Honestly, I don't know what else I could expect from a Munson..." But Christine was no longer listening. She remembered Edward's face last night, that dark look in his eyes that she'd once sworn to wipe away for good, and her heart broke.

She looked at Joshua, and it was as if she was seeing him for the first time, for who he really was. He had no thought for her as a person. Everything was about him. His declaration of love was all empty talk. Perhaps he did love her, but it was a shallow kind of love, to satisfy his vanity. Even from their first encounter, she was just a conquest to him. When she married Edward and moved away, he sent her that ring to string her along, to keep her as a spare, in case he needed someone to massage his ego. And she had fallen for it, time and time again, like the fool she was.

"What did he say to you?" she heard herself asking Joshua.

"What?"

"When you told him it was impossible, what did he say to you?"

"Oh. He said I must have the decency of telling you that myself. So here I am." Joshua actually looked smug, as if he had outwitted Edward.

Except he hadn't. Christine realized this was Edward's way of telling her, again, that the choice was hers to make. He knew that if he had acted the part of an injured husband and asked her to stay, she probably would, but she would always wonder. So instead, he had simply shown her what kind of man Joshua was and let her decide for herself.

And decide she would. Edward must be well on his way to Yorkshire by now. If she hurried, she could catch him at the coaching inn in Biggleswade. Brushing past Joshua, she rang the bell.

"What time did Lord Hurstfield leave this morning?" she asked, when the maid came in.

"I could've told you that..." Joshua said, but Christine waved him off.

"At six, ma'am," the maid said. "I'd just finished lighting the fire in the drawing room."

Christine did some mental calculation. Perhaps she could catch him in Peterborough then.

Seeing her frown, the maid explained helpfully, "I believe he meant to catch a ship, ma'am. Last night, his footman, Will, asked me where he can procure a list of packet boats leaving Dover."

Dover! A shock went through Christine when she realized Edward wasn't going back to Yorkshire after all. He was going to France.

Hardly knowing what she was doing, Christine ran outside, absently putting on her coat and bonnet as she did so. She needed a cab, a carriage, something fast that could take her to Dover before Edward got on a boat to France and away from her forever. She scanned the street, but there was no cab in sight... Her eyes fell on Joshua's phaeton, tied to the post outside her mother's house, and his driver, yawning against the railing.

Joshua clearly thought that Christine's flight to the door was her signal for him to leave. He made a show of pulling on his gloves. "Shall I see you at Lady Harrington's tonight then?" he asked.

Christine finally turned to him. "No, Lord Hauxwell," she said. "You will never see me again." Before neither Joshua nor his driver could react, she untied the horse, jumped on the phaeton, and drove away.

***

When the phaeton crossed the Thames into Watling Street and the Dover Road turnpike approached in the distance, the fire driving Christine started to cool. She searched her pockets and discovered that, by a stroke of luck, she had just enough money to pay for the toll here. But what about the next turnpike, and the next? How many turnpikes were there from London to Dover anyway? And what if something should happen to her on the road? Should she return and find a stagecoach instead? But if she delayed, it might be too late - Edward could be on a boat to Calais this evening. With a sinking heart, Christine let the horse pull the phaeton through the turnpike, avoiding the toll keeper's curious stare. Probably not a lot of ladies traveling alone on phaetons passed through here.

As the phaeton rolled across Blackheath, the sinking feeling grew. Though it was still daytime and she could see the chimney smoke coming from the village, the road itself was deserted, and she remembered all the tales she'd heard of highwaymen lurking along these fields. She realized she had made the same blunder as the night she ran away from Hurstfield, and this time, she didn't even have young Will to protect her.

The reins grew slack in her hands and the horse slowed to a stop. As she sat there, not knowing what to do, a figure appeared at the bend in the road ahead, coming slowly toward her on foot, while checking both sides of the road as if searching for something. Strange, Christine thought. He looks just like young Will. It's probably because I've just been thinking about the boy.

But the figure drew near, and it was Will. His boyish face broke into a happy and surprised grin at the sight of Christine sitting forlornly on the phaeton.

"M'lady!" he exclaimed. "How'd ye come to be here?"

She had never been so glad to see anyone in her life. "I was going after his lordship," she said, simultaneously crying and laughing with relief. "What are you doing here?"

"One of th' horses threw a shoe," he explained. "Mr. Wheeler told me to find it an' wrap it on before we find a smithy."

"So his lordship is here?"

"Yes, mum," he said, pointing. "Carriage's just beyond th' bend—"

Christine didn't wait to hear the rest of his sentence. She shook the reins, and the horse shot off. The carriage came into view, and she noticed it was turned toward London, not Dover. Wheeler, long-limbed like a scarecrow, was kneeling on the ground, checking the horse's hoof, while Edward was pacing by its side, fiddling with his signet ring. They both looked up at the sound of the phaeton approaching, and Christine saw Edward's eyes widen.

She jumped off before the phaeton came to a complete stop. Her ankle twisted as she landed on the ground. Wheeler, who was closer, helped her to her feet, saying "M'lady?", sounding as surprised as young Will had. Edward, on the other hand, still stood by the carriage, seemingly frozen in shock. She approached him, her bonnet askew, her foot limping a little from her tumble. Not the dignified or romantic arrival she had imagined, but it would have to do. It probably gave Edward time to recover from his shock as well, for when she finally came close enough, he asked, "What in God's name are you doing here?"

"I may ask you the same thing," she said. "I thought you were going back to Hurstfield. Why are you going to Dover?"

"I should've thought the answer to that is obvious."

"No, not to me."

He tilted his head, but his eyes never left hers. "I want to go somewhere that doesn't remind me of you," he said, his voice little more than a whisper.

 She knew now that it would be the closest he could get to admitting his love for her. But after Joshua, she had had her fill of grand, flowery declarations of love. Those words were said too much, and they were never enough. She would take Edward's reticence over them any day.

"I'm sorry, but you can't escape me that easily," she said, taking another step toward him. "You have to take me with you."

"Why?"

"We haven't had our wedding journey yet, and I've never been to France."

A smile began to tug at the corners of Edward's eyes and mouth, fighting with his disbelief, like the sun fighting to chase away the dark clouds of a heavy storm. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes." She took his hand. "I've made my choice."

It was as if he was waiting only for that. As soon as she said it, he drew her to him and kissed her, a deep kiss that filled her entire body with warmth, all the way to her core, all the way to her heart. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back, feeling him melt into her. He had always made her feel safe. But now she knew she was his shelter as well. The thought gave strength to her embrace and her kiss, until Edward reluctantly pulled away, breathless, but still kept her enfolded in his arms and their foreheads pressed together.

"I have a confession," he whispered, his lips hovering close to hers. "I'm not going to France."

"I've gathered as much," she said. "You were going back for me, weren't you?"

Edward chuckled. "I didn't trust that fool Hauxwell to deliver my message."

"Hush." She put a finger to his lips. "Don't speak of him." But even as she said it, she realized that the mention of Joshua's name no longer had any effect on her.

"Why not?" Edward grabbed her finger and placed a little kiss on it. "I'm not afraid of him."

"You should've told me that last night."

"I've made such a dreadful hash of things, haven't I?" Edward said, smiling.

She caressed his cheeks, brushing her thumbs over his dimples, wanting to see them there always. "We both have," she said. "Never have greater fools breathed the breath of life. But we'll learn together."

When they drew apart the second time, a discreet clearing of the throat from Wheeler alerted Edward to the presence of the phaeton. "Where did you get that?" he asked Christine.

"Oh God," she said, burying her face in his shoulder. "It was Hauxwell's. He came to my mother's house to tell me about you, and I just took it. I wasn't thinking straight."

She could feel Edward's body rock with silent laughter. "I bet he loved that."

She thought of Joshua and his driver stuttering in shock on the curb outside her mother's house, and dissolved into helpless laughter as well. "We'd better send it back, before he has me hanged for a horse thief," she said, half-joking.

"We can leave it in Blackheath for him to pick up."

Just then, Will came back, waving the horseshoe triumphantly. While the boy and Wheeler put the shoe back and wrapped it in place, Edward turned to Christine. "So do you still want to go to France?" he asked. "Or do you want to go home?"

At that moment, she would have gone to the moon with him. But France was not going anywhere, December was a terrible month to travel, and Hurstfield Hall was warm and cozy.

"Home," she said, slipping her hand into his. And so they went home.

[cazimagines]

Born to be wild - Chapter 18

Synopsis: Joining F1 as one of the first female drivers you knew was going to be a challenge but you weren’t prepared to deal with one particular asshole on the tracks. With the urge to win so strong within each racer, will romance pave the way? Or will it destroy everything?

Word count: 2.3k

Previous chapter: After winning his first race, Niki asked you to meet him in his garage where no one else would be around. When you meet him there, Niki surprises you by asking you the big question, by proposing, typical Niki style.

Warnings: sub!Niki, slight restraints, teasing, edging, oral sex (M receiving), riding, unprotected sex, begging

A/N: A Christmas chapter in the middle of summer? That is how we roll. You guys know I had to include some sub!Niki time into this series. Am I Cazzy if it is not included? At this point, I am like the face brand for sub!danny bunch content. We've been lacking in the Danny fandom for sub content (my bad) so here you go, a very early Christmas present. I'm sure I will also include more later in the series.

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You let out a relieved sigh as you place the last heavy boxes on the ground. Standing back up, you stretch slightly and take a step back to admire your progress. There were boxes piled on the floors with different labels. It had taken you ages to pack everything from your apartment, and now you felt like it would take longer to unpack it all again. You felt Niki move beside you, a huff leaving his lips as his eyes surveyed all the boxes scattered around the two of you.

"This is going to take a while to sort out."

Smiling, you wrap your arm around Niki's waist and pull his body closer to you, enjoying the grimace on his face.

"Well, lucky for you, love, we have all the time we need before the next race. Plenty of time for me to unpack and move in. We should be done just in time for Christmas!" you exclaim, letting go of Niki to kneel back down at the boxes again, opening one to see what you had packed inside.

Niki rolled his eyes.

"I don't celebrate Christmas."

You glance at him, one eyebrow cocked up.

"I should have guessed that. But why?"

Niki shrugged his shoulders, frowning.

"I've never seen the point. It's just spending a lot of money on useless gifts. If you want to give someone a gift, you should just give it to them. There shouldn't be a day dedicated to feeling obliged to give someone a gift."

You tilt your head, thinking as you take in Niki's words.

"I suppose you have a point, but the atmosphere of Christmas is so lovely, Niki, and I'd love to share it with you."

You stand up and walk back over to Niki, smiling as you wrap your arms around his neck and place a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Plus, I'm certain you will love my gift for you."

As you pull away from Niki, you see his eyes glimmer with interest, and you know you have the fish hooked.

-

As you lifted the tinsel to decorate the tree, you hummed one of your favourite Christmas songs. You had spent hours convincing Niki to get a tree, and instead of buying a fake plastic one, Niki had decided to cut down one on his land. You spent the next few hours watching Niki struggling to get it inside the house.

Now Niki was sitting on the sofa, examining one of his hands for splinters and grumbling under his breath.

As you wrapped the tinsel around, you peeked at Niki and watched as he narrowed his eyes and examined his thumb further. Shaking your head in amusement, you picked up the next decoration and started to place it, but your gesture didn't go unnoticed by Niki.

"I saw that," Niki exclaimed, frowning as he looked over at you.

"Saw what?" you reply, your lip curling.

Niki huffed and stood up. He strode over to the tree, placing his hands on his hips as he gave the tree a glance up and down.

"I don't see the point."

"I know you don't."

"We never did this when I was a kid."

You sigh as you place a star on the top of the tree and then look at Niki.

"Which is why I want to make the most of it now. I loved Christmas as a kid Niki, and it would be nice to see you enjoying the same thing I do."

Niki tilted his head, eyeing the tree like it would make splinters fly out at him.

"It's not who I am y/n; I'm not the sort of person who gets into these things."

You pout, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him in closer to you.

"Do you always have to be so stubborn?"

"Isn't it one of my endearing qualities for you?"

You roll your eyes.

"Please, Niki. For me."

Niki looks into your eyes for a moment, then sighs. He leans down, picks up a spring of holly hesitantly, and places it on the tree.

He looks back to you.

"For you."

-

You and Niki snuggled together on the sofa. A concoction of limbs intertwined. You have just been able to rest the side of your face on Niki's chest, and his hand stroked up and down your back. You convinced Niki to wear a fluffy Christmas jumper. It felt soft against your cheek, and you let your head rise up and down on his chest as he breathed. You focused on it, enjoying this tranquil moment with Niki.

"Did you like your present, Niki?" you ask, glancing up at Niki and blinking slowly.

Niki‌ chuckled, glancing at the collection of jumpers, car washing equipment and a pile of yoghurts beside the tree.

"Yes, very… amusing."

You smile, your lips curling either side as you push your body up, rubbing it along Niki's side and letting your lips graze the top of Niki's ear tip.

"That's not all I have planned for you."

Niki's head moved to look into your eyes. His were gleaming.

"So, when will I get this gift?"

Your lips curl over the top of your teeth as you look over Niki's face again, your eyes scanning the curls of hair on his head, his delicate brown eyes, and his adorable smile. Pushing forward, your lips pressed on his. Instantly, his eyes fluttered shut as he opened his lips and pressed back on you.

You moved, wrapping your arms around his back as you clambered onto his lap. Niki's arms wrapped around you, though his hands groped your ass. You sucked his lips between yours and felt the excitement twist within you as you heard the little gasp Niki let out.

You pulled back, sliding off Niki's lap, standing on your feet, holding Niki's hand. Niki slowly opened his eyes, surprised. He opened his lips to speak, but as you tug on his hand, he snaps his lips shut again. He gets up off the sofa and allows you to pull him through the house, the stairs, and into the bedroom you and Niki now shared.

As you both entered the room, Niki smiled and stepped towards you, his hands grasping your hips to pull you closer to him. You enjoy the brace for a moment, but there was more than you had planned.

You wrap your hands on Niki's hips, grasping the soft skin, and then span him around. With his back facing the bed, you push him backwards, and Niki falls onto the soft mattress of the bed.

Niki popped onto his elbows and looked at you wide-eyed, taking in every moment. You took in the sight, delighting in the view of Niki lying on the bed before you.

"Maybe I should have you like this more often," you tell Niki, taking a few steps towards him.

"I wouldn't complain."

You climbed onto the bed, straddling his waist. His hands reach to grab your hips, but you quickly clasp his wrists in your hand and pull them up above his head, restraining Niki onto the bed. Somehow, Niki's eyes widen further.

Holding his wrists there, you lean forward and kiss Niki again. You can hear a little moan escape his lips as he kisses you back with as much desire, and you feel the spark of delight run through your nerves. You had heard many noises from Niki's mouth before, but never something so desperate and submissive. It was captivating to you.

Pulling back, you let go of his wrists to instead grasp the ends of his Christmas jumper. Hurriedly you pulled it up, exposing Niki's tummy and chest to you. After Niki helped you pull it over his head, you placed your hands on his tummy and moved them around, feeling the slight muscles through his skin, the feel of his chest, slightly running your fingers along his nipples to tease him.

Niki hissed, eyelids fluttering as his back arched up to your touch.

You gently placed your lips on his burning skin, trailing kisses down his chest and over the soft skin of his tummy. You brought your hands to his jeans, slowly undid the button, and pulled the hem down. You had to climb off Niki to pull them off, but soon, he was simply left in just his thin white boxers. His cock was straining through the fabric, begging to be released.

You placed the palm of your hand over it and slightly squeezed, caressing it. Niki groaned, pushing his head back into the pillows as he clasped your hand and held it down, urging you to carry on.

You tisked at him, pulling your hand away and removing his hand from your wrist.

"If you don't behave, Niki, I'll have to restrain you."

You could hear the air get caught in Niki's through and how he splutters as he looks up at you.

"I'm sorry, y/n."

"Good boy."

You bring your hand back to the top of his boxes, running your fingers along the delicate skin above the hem. Niki's hips twitched, his body slightly arching again as you teased him. After a few minutes of playing with him to hear the little sounds of desperation leave his lips, you grant him pity and pull his boxers down, exposing his cock that rested against his tummy, pre-cum glistening at the tip.

You licked your lips, remembering the last time you had tasted him. You felt that desire to taste him again as if you had been starved of it for years.

Niki watched as you took him into your palm. You both watched as a bead of pre-cum started running down the side of his shaft, sliding over the veins that stuck out of the delicate skin. A groan left Niki's lips as you flicked out your tongue and licked up the drip, following the path of it all the way to his soft tip that was showing through his uncut skin. Watching Niki's face, you wrapped your lips around his head and sucked as you stroked the rest of his shaft.

Instantly his hips buckled, overcome with sensations. He groaned, one hand grasping the duvet in his palms while another clutched your hair, holding you.

You release him from your mouth with a pop and shoot him a look as you continue to stroke him.

"Niki, what did I say about those hands?"

Hissing, he let go of your hair to grasp the duvet with both hands. His hips strained as he felt your hand pumping him, and when you lapped at his head with kitten licks, letting your tongue occasionally dip into his sensitive slit, he was close to screaming from the pleasure building in his groin.

Feeling yourself getting wetter, you could barely hold back any longer. You pulled yourself onto his waist again, and holding his cock in your hand, you positioned yourself to slide onto him. A gasp left both of your lips as you pushed down till he was entirely inside you. In this position, you felt fuller than before, and Niki could feel the way your warm wet walls tightened around him at the feeling. You stayed still for a moment, making Niki whine and buckle his hips.

You placed your hands on his chest, pushing him down onto the bed before you picked up your hips and then moved back down on his cock, slowly riding him.

Niki looked so pretty beneath you, clutching the duvet of your bed in his hands, his face and chest covered in a lovely blush, his lips slightly open as he grasped every time you dropped your hips back down and ground on his cock.

When you felt Niki start to buckle and lift his hips up into you, twitching, you grasped the curls of his hair and pulled him upwards so that his face was pressed into your shoulder. You could hear him gasping and moaning as your wrapped your arms around his back and felt how his hands came to grasp your ass, feeling you move on top of him.

As he gasped quicker, you suddenly stopped all moments, and a whine left his lips.

"Beg me to come."

You heard Niki huff, and he pulled away from your shoulder to look at you.

"I don't beg."

You pulled Niki's curled hair, forcing his head back and exposing his delicate throat.

"I won't ask you again, Niki, plus I don't need to move to get off."

You snaked one hand down to your clit and touched yourself, bringing yourself closer and closer to your climax. You could feel Niki squirming, frustrated at the lack of moment while hearing your moans of pleasure.

Finally, you heard the words leave his lips when you reached your end.

"Y/n…, please."

"I'm sorry, darling, I couldn't quite hear."

"Maus, please!" he cried out louder this time. "Move, please; I need to come."

You let go of Niki's hair, and he buried his face into the crook of your neck again, panting.

"Will you be a good boy for me if I let you?"

"Yes, yes I will, please, please y/n."

The moan that left Nik's lips as you moved with exquisite. You could feel him shudder from the pleasure, and as you reached your climax, Niki groaned, feeling your walls flutter around him. It only took a few more seconds of you moving on him from him to come. His hips buckled up into yours as far as they could go, and you felt the way his cock twitched inside of you, the heat of his cum spilling inside of you. After a few moments of rocking hips, you felt Niki de-tense. You watched as he flopped onto the bed, breathing raggedly, his eyelids fluttering while his skin burned red. Smiling, you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Merry Christmas, love."

-

TAGS: @lieutenantn @greeneyeblondie44 @lorna-d-m @cable-kenobi @zemosimp05 @edencherries @hofficoffi @somethingthatsaysbubbles @apparrio @vverliebte @shadowycollectiveduck @scuttle-buttle @rumblelibrary @nyx2021 @fictionlandslanddreams @darksxder @liadamerondjarin @daniel-bruhhl @aedeluca @trashbin246 @livvyshmiv @black-mistress-of-evill @laura-naruto-fan1998 @stilltoomuchafangirl @hannahbal-the-fannibal @hungrhay @hexedeslichts @transias @lilith-blackrose @jesslove23 @saltysilv @mybisexualheartbeatsforzemo @janine-007 @jeeperky @cat-r-r @libsybum @linkpk88 @realmoftheelemental @brxghtlelune @shadystarlightgentlemen @f1yogurt @antheina @bear-bone-berries @sparkycorleone @i-am-dead-inside-666

[invisibleraven]

“I told you I shouldn’t wrap the presents!” sounds like something Flynn would say while her hands are taped together lol

As the holidays approached, Julie demanded they do something for charity. They of course, did charitable stuff throughout the year, some for publicity, most without. But she wanted to draw attention to a worthy cause for Christmas, and figured if the band contributed, their fans might too.

Flynn looked up a bunch and started throwing out suggestions. "Salvation Army?"

"Homophobic assholes!" Alex answered back.

"PETA?"

"Harm more animals than they save," Reggie responded.

"Homes for Humanity?"

Julie leveled Flynn with a look, "Do you really trust these himbos with power tools?"

"Fair," Flynn nodded while the guys shouted with indignation. She hemmed and hawed for a moment, then finally asked. "Toys for Tots?"

Everyone was amenable to that, so Flynn contacted a few shelters in need of supplies, and got a lengthy list. Then it was time for shopping.

She and Julie handled the clothes, any feminine products and some fun dolls. Alex got books and art supplies, Reggie blocks and space stuff, and Luke got musical instruments and stuffed toys. Flynn got shots of them all for the band’s Instagram.

Then it was time to wrap and deliver the gifts. Everyone took a pile, a tube of paper, a roll of tape, scissors, and tags. Alex proved adept as doing bows, Reggie seemed to know just by eyeing it how much paper to use, and Luke was doing his best to do the tags. Julie sorted the gifts into piles, and then turned to Flynn and stifled a laugh.

“I told you I shouldn’t wrap the presents!” Flynn exclaimed, her fingers almost bound together by tape, a ream of paper was wrapped around her legs, there was a bow stuck in her braids and a few tags stuck to her sweater.

"....how?" Alex asked, snorting next to Julie.

"I have really bad luck with gift wrapping," Flynn offered. "This is why I stick to bags or getting it done professionally." She then looked at the chuckling guitarists. "Can you two stop chortling and help a girl out?"

"Yes ma'am," Luke and Reggie replied, coming over to untangle her. Flynn grunted a thanks as she shook her limbs out, rubbing the circulation back into her fingers.

"I'll do your wrapping for you Flynn," Reggie offers as Luke cleans up the mess, Julie gone to fetch them snacks and Alex taking over the sorting.

"Thanks Reg, this is why you're my favourite," Flynn said. Reggie preened and Luke grumbled that he wanted to be the favourite for once.

"Dude you're Julie's favourite, you can't have both cute girls," Reggie retorted back. The boys started to bicker and Flynn rolled her eyes.

"I changed my mind, Alex you're my new favourite<" Flynn said.

"Awww, you're my favourite too Flynnie," Alex said. "But I'm not doing your wrapping for you."

"Hey Luke you wanna be my favourite?" Flynn asked. Luke turned and nodded, and she thrust a roll of paper at him. "Here you go, get wrapping."

Luke pouted, but dutifully started wrapping. Flynn smirked, taking another few shots for their Insta, and went off to help Julie with the snacks. After all that, she deserved a soda or seven.

[jerzwriter]

Sunday Six 12.11.2022

Giving a little peek at some upcoming holiday fics. I have some for Ethan x Kaycee, Tobias x Casey, and even for Eli x Zoe in WTD world. Plus, one OH / TRR crossover that I've had so much fun working on.

There are no sneak peeks for these, but these works are coming up in the weeks ahead.

I'm wrapping up Tobias & Casey's wedding this week - two parts are remaining, the night before and the day of their wedding.

Vegas 3 will also be out this week. I know, I've said it before, but I MEAN it this time. :)

I am really excited to embark on two angsty series by month's end, Reset for Ethan/Kaycee and Where it Goes From Here for Tobias/Casey. I miss angst something fierce. lol

I'm sooooo anxious to get to the core of my HC for Eli & Zoe in Wake the Dead, but time hasn't been a friend, and I don't want to rush it. But part three of A Mother's Journal is coming, and I'll admit, it's getting angsty as fuck. Mostly because we know what lies ahead.

I also think all the couples deserve some new year's smut... hmm.... anyway, I've blabbed enough. Here are some sneak peeks!

A Very Mixed Up Christmas - OH - Ethan x Kaycee

Ethan and Kaycee were putting the finishing touches on dinner,  unsettled by the relative silence in their home when there were… well… so many relatives present.

“Ethan,” she whispered. “What do you think is going on?”

“Regarding?”

“Your Dad and Naveen were acting all weird before. Now my parents have disappeared too. Usually, they’d be helping us or in the living room chatting.”

His brow furrowed as the realization dawned on him. “You know what, you’re right…and look… they’re on the balcony!”

“The balcony! It’s 30 degrees today!”

Ethan dried his hands with a dishtowel and walked toward the sliding door.

“What are you doing?”

“Saving them from  hypothermia… and getting to the bottom of this.”

Unnamed Christmas Fic - OH - Tobias x Casey

"Thanks for coming with me," Tobias whispered, his wife looking at him with questioning eyes.

"Where else do you think I would be?"

"I just know... well," he motioned around, "this just isn't your scene."

"Hmmm. And being married with a baby on the way wasn't your scene once either, was it?"

"No," he chuckled, "It most certainly was not."

"But you're happy now?"

"Do I really need to answer that?"

"Nope. I'm just saying, life changes for both of us... for the better."

Unnamed Holiday Fic - TRR/OH Crossover - Ethan, Kaycee, Tobias and Drake, Liam, Olivia

"OK, you need to stop!" Kaycee ordered, closing Ethan's laptop in the hopes that would do the trick. But it sprung back open just as quickly as it had been closed. She turned to Tobias with desperation in her eyes.

"T, please! Get him to stop!"

"Stop? I just went out to get munitions, dear! This is war now."

"Face it, Kaycee, you're outnumbered. The only question that remains is, are you joining our ranks... or are you on the other side?"

Unnamed Holiday Fic - WTD - Eli x Zoe

Zoe stood on the deck taking in the bucolic setting that surrounded them and made a mental note to thank Troy for what seemed like a ludicrous idea less than a year ago. Who knew that Red Meadows, would be their home; and who knew that the young woman who was cold when it was seventy degrees would come to find winter to be her favorite season.

It wasn't the billowing snow that covered every surface, blanketing a horrid world in a sort of peace she had never known. It wasn't the way it glowed like an enchanted forest in the moonlight. Most would believe it was because zombies were all but non-existent this time of year, and she would admit having that one huge worry lifted from her brought a relief she couldn't express. But it was more. Looking inside the lodge as the residents of the new colony conversed, imbibed, laughed, and played games... she had found something she had always longed for without knowing what it was. She had found a home.

She could feel the tears building in her eyes, this life would be unrecognizable just months before..., and she was so grateful, yet so still so wracked with guilt because the one person who enabled all of this to exist wasn't there to share it with her. Lowering her head with a deep breath, she was about to surrender to the torrent of tears building within when she felt a hand gently pulling her near.

"I knew I find you here," he whispered.

He always knew where to find her. And like magic, he knew when she needed him most.

[lovemesomesurveys]

(made by: tickle-my-pickle) 1. Do you typically say “Happy Holidays” or “Merry Christmas”? I typically say, “Merry Christmas.”

2. Do you make or serve anything with cranberries around this holiday season? Blech, no. Not a fan. 

3. Do you collect pine cones, or have you in the past as a child? What have you made out of them/what did you do with them? I did some arts and crafts stuff with pinecones in school, but no I didn’t collect them. 

4. Have you/your family ever roasted chestnuts as a holiday treat before? No. 

5. Are red and green the colors that you typically associate with Christmas the most, or is there another color that you have in mind? What is it? Yeah, those are the main ones for sure. I do also associate blue, silver, and gold as well. 

6. What’s the worst Christmas gift that you’ve ever gotten before, and what made it the worst? I’ve never received a “worst” gift. 

7. Do you give your spare change to the mall Santas? I have before. 

8. Do you get to open up any presents on Christmas Eve? No, we like to open ours on Christmas morning. 

9. Do you believe in the saying that “good things come in small packages”? Yes.

10. Do your family members wrap your gifts, or were they just sitting there under the tree? How about when your parents were kids? My parents have always wrapped the presents. That would not be fun to just have everything sitting there unwrapped with no element of surprise.  11. Do you know anyone who has a birthday on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day? Have you ever gotten a gift that was meant for both your birthday as well as Christmas, either because it was expensive or because the two holidays are close together? No.

12. Are you someone who needs to work on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, or are you able to have those days off to spend time with your loved ones? I don’t have a job. 

13. Have you ever gone on any sort of Christmas-themed scavenger hunt before? How about played Christmas-themed bingo? I’m pretty sure I’ve played Christmas themed bingo in elementary school.

14. Is Christmas your favorite holiday? If so, why? If not - then which holiday is your favorite instead? Yes, it is. I just love everything about it. 

15. When was the last time you sat down and made an actual Christmas gift? How often do people ask you what you want for Christmas and you’re unable to think of anything concrete until after the holidays have passed? Uhh, I mean I made little gifts in arts and crafts when I was little like ornaments and whatnot. I usually can think of something I would like, but this year was really hard. 

16. Do you watch “Kickoff to Christmas” or “Countdown to Christmas” movie specials on the FreeForm channel? When do you start counting down the days until Christmas? Yeah, I watch Freeform’s 25 Days of Christmas. I’ve been watching that since I was a kid.

17. Does it ever deeply concern you to know that Santa knows when you’re sleeping, and he knows when you’re awake? Don’t make it creepy okay lol.

18. What would you do if your grandma got run over by a reindeer? I’d be devastated and horrified. I do like the song, though lol.  

19. What’s the most unusual thing that you’ve ever wanted for Christmas? (like two front teeth or a hippopotamus, perhaps) lol when I was a kid I loved mustard seasoned pretzels, so “Santa” brought me a big bag for my stocking.

20. Do you donate toys to your local toy drive, or offer food for Christmas meals during this time? No.

[doctorstethoscope]

I posted 8,263 times in 2022

210 posts created (3%)

8,053 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@genevievedarcygranger

@spacecowboyhotch

@ssahoodrathotchner

@holy-ships-x-red-lips

@ssamorganhotchner

I tagged 768 of my posts in 2022

#aaron hotchner - 155 posts

#aaron hotchner x you - 130 posts

#aaron hotchner x reader - 128 posts

#aaron hotchner x y/n - 127 posts

#hotch x reader - 122 posts

#hotch x you - 116 posts

#aaron hotchner x reader fic - 112 posts

#criminal minds - 112 posts

#hotch x reader fic - 103 posts

#hotch x y/n - 102 posts

Longest Tag: 132 characters

#hotch acting like he doesn’t know what reid is talking about as if he hasn’t spent his entire adult life trying to be above reproach

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Sink or Swim || January

hiii besties so excited for you to read this first chapter!! let me know what you think <333

Series Masterlist

contains: food and caffeine consumption, allusion to sex

wc: 1.7k

It had been three whole days since Hotch was in the office. Things were quiet, the new year had just been rung in and while serial killers never slept, the people who made requests to your department occasionally did. In your 5 years at the BAU, you couldn’t recall Hotch ever taking a day off, holiday or not. It isn’t that you’re in incapable hands with Rossi and Morgan— but it’s weird nonetheless. It was weird to not pop into his office and offer to top off his coffee after you’d made a fresh pot. It was weird for him to not call out to Emily and chase her for her late supplemental reports. It was like there was a limb missing— as it would feel with any member of the team, you tell yourself. 

In the absence of Hotch, you push open Rossi’s office door with a fresh brewed pot in hand.

“Any news on the boss?“ you ask as you refill his mug.

Rossi shrugs apathetically. “Must be a nasty bug. He hasn’t told me much.”

“Is he sick, or is it Jack?” You ask.

“Not sure,” he says. 

“Did you ask him anything at all? Do we know that he’s not wasting away in a hospital bed somewhere?” You ask in an exasperated sort of tease.

“Woah, mama, take a breath.” Derek says from behind you– you hadn’t heard him enter. 

“I’m just saying. It’s a total man thing to do. He could be on his deathbed for all we know.” You grouse as you fill Derek’s mug as well.

“Don’t you think Hotch would tell us if he needed anything?” Derek asks. 

“No, actually, I don’t think he would,” you point out. 

“Fair point,” Rossi says. “If he’s not back next week I’ll send a search party.”

Next week simply wouldn’t do. That night you went home and put together a soup. Lemon chicken noodle, for vitamin c and for comfort. You pack it all up with some cookies and a loaf of bread and head over to Hotch’s place, bundled up in your coat, hat and mittens— he’s probably expecting you at this point, it wasn’t uncommon for you to deliver a care package to a coworker in need. 

You knock on the door and hear Hotch’s steady footsteps from inside the apartment. His windows still have rubbery cling decals stuck to the inside— a Christmas tree, some presents, and a few snowflakes. You smile, thinking about him and his son sticking them up together.  “Jack, the pizza’s here!” You hear him yell. 

Well, Hotch doesn’t sound sick, but it certainly can’t be Jack if Hotch is letting him have pizza. The door swings open, and you smile sheepishly, decidedly not the pizza he’s expecting. He looks almost frightened, which makes your anxiety pique as you look him over, noticing the bundle in his arms for the first time. 

“Hotch, you have a baby,” you say stupidly.

“And you have soup,” he says, just as dumbly.

“Is that…” you start, and then trail off. What is there to say?

“Why don’t you come inside,” he says. “It’s freezing out.”

He lets you in and the two of you fumble around each other like you’re strangers– but the only stranger in the room is wrapped in a pink terry cloth blanket. You set the soup and accouterments on the countertop, he offers you a mug of tea which you gratefully accept, and then he looks at you from across the counter as he sets the kettle on, his brows pinching together as he begins to speak.

“Rossi had taken me out to a bar, months ago, and I spent the night with a woman–” 

“You don’t have to,” you cut him off, gently. “I barged in on you. You don’t have to be ready to tell me all of this just because I showed up at your house with soup.” You reiterate. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”  

“I don’t know if I’m ever going to be ready for this,” he confesses. “But you feel like a safe place to start.”

The thought of that warms you up inside, just a little bit. You nod. “Go ahead, then. I’m listening.”

See the full post

198 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

#4

SINK OR SWIM MASTERLIST

“What am I not scared of? I’m scared of failing her, of failing Jack. Of failing you and the team. In a weird way I can’t quite explain, this whole situation feels like I’m failing Haley all over again,” Aaron tells you. “I don’t know… This whole thing, it really just feels like… it feels like it’s sink or swim.”

You reach out and take his hands in yours. “Okay. So we’ll swim.” 

contains: female reader, found family, mentions of parent loss, friends to lovers

if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist, please send me an ask.

Love u besties can't wait to hear what you think <3

Masterlist

January

February

March

April

May

June

July-- coming November 12th, 2022

August-- coming November 19th, 2022

September-- coming November 26th, 2022

October-- coming December 3rd, 2022

November-- coming December 10th, 2022

December-- coming December 17th, 2022

taglist: @spacecowboyhotch @honeybrowne @call-me-mrsreid

@lostinthefandoms11 @angelfxllcm @rousethemouse @skyler666 @mintphoenix @gspenc @ashhotchner @wheelsupkels @infinite-tides @zetasaturno99 @itsmeiguessidk @ahouseforhermitcrab @catsofsmoke @silversighs @hotchs-bitch @h0tch-r0cket @laurensprentiss

202 notes - Posted September 24, 2022

#3

Play it Again || A. Hotchner x Fem Reader

hi all! This is just a little something based off of Play it Again by Luke Bryan. Hope you enjoy!

contains: alcohol consumption

wordcount: 1.6k

It was one of those perfect early-spring nights that reminded you that the winter was worth suffering through. You were gathered in Rossi’s backyard celebrating the unseasonably warm weather and a rare Saturday night off with everyone free. JJ and Morgan were helping Jack and Henry roast marshmallows, Spencer and Penelope were tossing tiny piles of uprooted grass at each other, and Emily and Rossi were in the kitchen putting together another pitcher of sangria. There was an early spring breeze carrying the music coming from the radio of Morgan’s truck, and you were sitting in the bed, your legs stretched out. Hotch ambled over to you, a fresh beer in one hand and a White Claw from the cooler in the other for you. 

“You looked like you could use a cold one,” he said, handling the can over and settling into the side of the truck, resting his arm on the edge of the bed. 

“Thanks. And you picked the best flavor,” you smile at him, cracking open the mango seltzer. 

“It was mostly lime left in the cooler, I had to go digging,” he smirks. 

You pull a face. “Nobody likes lime.” 

“I imagine that’s why they’re all still in the cooler.” 

You chuckle a little at his dry humor. You know that most people wouldn’t really call that a joke, just an observation, but those people… they didn’t get Hotch. 

“I’m glad you came tonight,” you say genuinely, and you’re surprised to see how touched he is when he turns to look at you. “I know it’s not always easy to get to team stuff with Jack. It means a lot that you make the effort.” 

“Despite the hardass exterior, I do truly enjoy your company. You’re right, it’s not always easy, but I want to be here with you,” he says. “With all of you,” he adds after a second, instantly regretting it. Why is it so hard to be honest with you? “Actually, I should say—” he starts, but he’s cut off by your gasp. 

“I’m sorry, Hotch, but hold that thought. I’ve been waiting for this song to come on all night,” you say, hopping out of the truck and turning towards him. “Dance with me, please.” 

He rolls his eyes. If it were anyone else, he’d say no, and he knows it. But he’s helpless. 

“You’re totally going to kill my hardass act,” he says as he takes your hand. 

The song you’ve been waiting all night for is some country-pop song, and Hotch can help but grin as you throw your head back in a laugh when he spins you. He pulls you back into his chest and you stumble a bit, giggling all the while. You make contact with his chest– it wasn’t on purpose, necessarily, but it wasn’t quite an accident, either. He catches you. You knew he would. 

“Sorry. One too many White Claws, I guess,” you chuckle at your own self-deprecating joke as you take another sip.

“You okay?” He asks, looking you over and quirking a brow. You can practically see the gears of his brain turning as he attempts to mentally catalogue each drink you had this evening. 

“I’m good, Hotch. Only 20% clumsier than I normally am. Just not really a dancer,” you assured him. 

“You could’ve fooled me,” he tells you with a sly grin. 

“Good partner. Good song. There’s a saying about broken clocks that might apply.”

“Nothing broken about you,” he says. 

“What were you saying? Before the dancing,” you asked. 

Aaron draws in a breath. He’d halfway hoped that you’d forgotten in the admittedly short period of time. But, you hadn’t, so it was time to pay the piper. “I was going to say— I’ve been meaning to tell you, it’s only fair—”  he starts to stumble over his words, but Jack comes over in a rush. 

“Dad! Can I sleep over at Henry’s? Ms. Jareau said it’s okay,” he asks breathlessly. 

Hotch gives his son a discerning look. “Did she offer to have you come over, or did you or Henry pester her until she said yes?” He asks.

For Jack’s sake, you hold in your chuckle. The profiling never stops, it seems. 

“She really offered. You can ask her yourself,” Jack insists. 

Aaron turns to look at you apologetically. “I should probably go talk to JJ,” he says. 

See the full post

349 notes - Posted June 4, 2022

#2

Wonderstruck || Aaron Hotchner x fem reader

Hi besties missed you besties!! This is a little something sort of inspired by LDSK-- I was watching it and couldn't help but think how crushed I would be if I was in Spencer's shoes, lol. Not a direct au, just a little something adjacent to it!

and a huge thanks to @spacecowboyhotch for beta-ing this for me!

tw: misogyny, epithets against women, arguing, typical cm canon content.

wc: 2.1k

“He’s a violent misogynist. Sending her in might distract him enough to give us an opening,” Rossi says, mulling over Spencer’s suggestion to send you into an active hostage situation in an attempt to de-escalate.

“I’ll go,” you say, reaching for a vest. Hotch’s hand shoots out in front of yours, keeping you from the stack of protective equipment. 

“No you won’t. He’s a violent misogynist. I’m not sending you in to become a defenseless target.” He says, his jaw set.

“I’m not defenseless!” You argued indignantly. “I’ll have a vest and a gun, not to mention half the FBI as backup.”

“I don’t like the risk. There has to be another way,” he insists.

“Hotch, it’s the best we got,” Morgan tries to reason with him. 

“It’s fine. It’s the job. I can handle it,” you plead to your boss. He holds your eye contact for a moment, your hopefulness appearing to soften his steely gaze. 

“Go get a discrete comms for under your vest. You won’t be able to hear us but I need to be able to hear you to know if things are okay on the inside,” he relents, and you scamper off to prepare yourself. 

Once you’re ready, Hotch insists on walking you to the door of the compound.

“It’s very important that you don’t try to prove anything to him. If he asks you to sit with the other women, sit and acquiesce and attempt to negotiate subtly from there. And if he escalates, stand down. We are getting plenty just from your comms,” he counsels, placing a hand on your shoulder and taking care to look you in the eyes.

“I’ve got it, Hotch. I’m gonna be fine,” you nod.

“I’ll see you when it’s over, then.”

“See you, Hotch.” 

You step into the compound and walk down a long hallway before you make it to the room where the unsub is holding the hostages. 

You knock gently, opening the door and introducing yourself.

“A woman? From the FBI? Ridiculous,” he scoffs.

“I know, but the sooner you and I work things out the sooner I can get out of your hair,” you say sweetly.

“I’d sooner blow this place up than yield to one of you,” he sneers, and a look at the collar of his shirt reveals that he means it— you can see a few threatening wires coming through. 

“What do you need from me to avoid that? I’m happy to oblige anything I can.”

“How about you sit down and shut the hell up, and the FBI gets me a passport and a helicopter.”

There’s another knock at the door and you whip your head around. “This is supervisory special agent Aaron Hotchner, I just want to talk,” he says, swinging the door open. 

“Supervisory, huh? You sent the girl in?” 

“Not by choice,” he scoffs. 

You bite your tongue. It was true, you supposed, but you hadn’t expected him to tell the unsub that.

See the full post

492 notes - Posted August 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The List || A. Hotchner x Fem!Reader

hello my loves, just a little something for @hotchafterhours kink challenge!

summary: you and Aaron check off a few new boxes.

kinks: D/s, daddy kink, threesome, mistress kink, praise kink, degradation, thigh riding

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader, emily prentiss x reader

content/warnings: in case it wasn't clear SMUT 18+ CONTENT MINORS DNI

wordcount: 3.5k

You’ve been dating Aaron for a few years now, so you like to think you’re something of an expert on all things Hotchner. There are plenty of people, your coworkers included, who think he’s all work and no play. That simply isn’t true. At work, yes, he’s a stark professional, to his core. But they don’t see him at home, playing with his son and basking in the domestic glow the three of you have created in your little apartment. And they certainly don’t see the type of play the two of you get up to, either.

One of the tenets of Aaron’s work/play separation was that work stayed in the office. He had a home office, for when he needed it, but even there– nothing BAU-related got past the threshold. When he was home, he was home for you and for his son— work would wait as long as it reasonably could. So when you see him flipping through some paperwork in bed, you’re admittedly confused.

“Whatcha doing?” You ask, pure curiosity in your tone.

“I was just looking over the list. It’s been a while since we did these, I thought it might be worth taking another peek at,” he explains, looking at you over the readers you had bought for him a year ago, that he valiantly resisted for three months before finally admitting that they helped.

He’s talking about your kink lists, which explains why he’s made it out of the office. Just shy of a year into your relationship, you’d broached the subject of introducing a dynamic into your sex lives, just to see if you liked it. Aaron had agreed, but insisted on doing his own, extensive research beforehand. He, admittedly, was wary about the idea of hurting you– even in a consensual way— and wanted to make sure he was fully prepared, both for him and for you. So he’d presented both of you with lists— you checked off things you knew you liked, things you thought you might want to try, and things you definitely didn’t want to do.

“Why don’t you check yours, too,” he says, passing you your copy of the list. “Make sure it all still looks accurate. We’ve tried a lot of this stuff, so if you don’t actually like it—”

“Aaron, you know I’d tell you if I didn’t. I’d safeword if I needed to, or I’d tell you after the scene if I didn’t. You wouldn’t hurt me and I wouldn’t let you,” you remind him.

“I’d still like you to look. Maybe things we haven’t tried that sounded appealing then, don’t now. Or maybe you’ve found that you like things more than you thought you would. It’s all good to know,” he encourages you.

You agree, climbing into bed and taking the paper and pen that he’d offered. You move some maybes that you had tried into the solid yes column, and a couple into the no column, too, but there aren’t any major changes. After a few minutes, you switch, and you find Aaron’s form to be more or less the same. You’re not surprised, really— You and Aaron have an open line of communication. There were no surprises.

“So, I was thinking I might surprise you,” Aaron pipes up. You stand corrected.

“Oh?” You say.

“You’ve been working your ass off lately, between the team and the Academy Trainee course Strauss pulled you for,” he explains. “I wanted to do something fun for you. I noticed you still had ‘experience with two or more partners’ and ‘experience with a same-sex partner’ checked off as things you’d like to try…” he trails off nervously, and you can tell just by looking at him that he’s wondering if he should beg the floor to swallow him whole rather than continue this conversation.

“That would be a very special gift,” you agree with a smile, putting him out of his misery. “But who? I don’t necessarily want to bring a stranger into the apartment,” you say.

“You can say no, and we can never talk about it again,” he assures you. “But I was thinking… maybe Emily?”

You mull it over for a moment, taking Aaron’s hand in your own to let him know that you’re thinking, not shocked into silence. You… kind of like the idea of it. “Have you talked to her about it at all?”

“Not about joining us,” he says, and his phrasing is specific. You know him too well for that.

“But you’ve talked to her about… our dynamic?” You ask, confused. It’s not your real question— you know he’d never tell someone else about this without asking you, first.

“No, no,” he corrects. “That case a few months back, where the men were all bound— she floated the idea privately with me that the unsub may be a dominatrix, and it came up naturally, that she’s… similarly minded.”

“But with less murder,” you joke.

“Like I said, we can pretend I never even brought it up.”

See the full post

594 notes - Posted January 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[biblicallyaccuratechicken]

i decided that today deserved a post of its own, so here, i'll start with a narrative and progress to reflection:

yesterday, after dance class, we gathered at the instructor("Z")'s place to make tamales, so that we could sell them this morning and make some money to buy a new set or two of dancing flags. most of us had never made tamales before, so Z and her husband taught us. as we got the hang of it, falling into an assembly line of sorts, we sang along to christmas music and talked about our lives. we finished ~300 tamales in just over 3 hours, and i fell asleep on the couch as soon as i got home due to a lack of sleep the night before.

come ~11 pm, i woke up on my own and waited for my housemates to go to sleep so that i could put some final touches on the theory test project due today, as well as decide which of the dance sequences i would choose to do for the practical test. each of them was accompanied by a quote which inspired it, and which we were expected to memorize and recite during the practical test. ~1 am, i made a teapot of coffee-rice-and-orangepeel tea for myself so that i could finish my work with confidence. once i was adequately satisfied with it, i played stardew valley with a friend, and truly relaxed and enjoyed myself for the first time in a long while.

at about 6, one of my housemates, J, had awoken and begun to make her own pot of coffee, so we had some good conversation. i took out the trash, and saw the crescent moon facing the morning star(?), with the green beginnings of the sunrise beneath it. it was beautiful. when i got back inside, J had started making gingerbread cookies in the shapes of various ninja poses. she was worried that they might not turn out well, since she was using her sourdough starter for the first time making them, so i tasted some; i tasted again, bigger this time, and left to do a fresh listen to my theory project and then get ready to go to church.

after i arrived and settled in, i found that Z was already setting up the tamale stand, so i helped her finish and wrap preorders. other members of the class showed up over time, so when i was no longer needed, i left the stand and stepped outside to people-watch. when the time came, i went to the kids' sanctuary to help anywhere i was needed. i did some lighting stuff, danced with the kids, subbed for an absent teacher's aide, and overall felt pretty decent about the day ahead of me.

when church was over, the dance class ate some tamales and drank warm punch together while the test judges got ready in the other room. we found out that one of our number has type-1 diabetes, and that two of us prefer green tamales over red.

i was first up for testing. they played my theory project on the speakers, and had me explain my thought process (in my studying of the assigned texts, i felt the huge burden of what it really means to be holy, how beautiful and unattainable that is, and how great it is that my god wants to be with us no matter what state we happen to be in, so i did my best to express that feeling). then was the practical exam, wherein i danced the sequence i'd chosen and recanted the quote it was meant to convey. i froze up a bit, despite having been 100% confident before entering the room, but i got everything right. then Z gave me a different sequence to perform, and i did so without hesitation or error.

as one-by-one my classmates presented their projects and took their practical exams, exhibiting their souls and hard-earned skill with care and purpose, i soon forgot all my anxieties for myself, offering instead the joy and support they had first given me.

and when, with glistening tears in their eyes, Z and the theory instructor, C, congratulated us, their first class, and expressed their pride in our efforts and progress in just a few weeks, i think all of us had seldom felt more loved. when they called our names in order, and one by one we all lined up holding our graduation certificates, there was not a dry eye or straight face amongst us. even my own smile stuck around like the stubbornest cat, though i tried my very best to send it away.

I don't know how best to describe my experience this semester. i wasn't even able to make it to most class sessions, but i still feel like my time learning this skill, with these people, has been invaluable to me. all the time we've spent looking to each other when we'd forgotten the next movement, learning and re-learning new languages in order to better understand each other, making tamales, and sharing what was on our hearts after praying and meditating together has all been such a unique experience. as we learned together how to express ourselves through dance, we just organically shared ourselves with each other in the purest way. i doubt any other discipline could surpass this kind of community, and i'm so happy to have been part of it, to have reached and been reached through words and music, and to have now a physical reminder that my efforts mean something more permanent than time.

 🥔

[suckitsurveys]

1. Do you typically say “Happy Holidays” or “Merry Christmas”? If I know the person celebrates Christmas I say Merry Christmas, but otherwise I say Happy Holidays.

2. Do you make or serve anything with cranberries around this holiday season? Not me personally, no.

3. Do you collect pine cones, or have you in the past as a child? What have you made out of them/what did you do with them? I’ve collected them for funsies before, but never really kept them. I’ve made bird feeders out of them in school before though. I also like to buy the scented ones around this time of year.

4. Have you/your family ever roasted chestnuts as a holiday treat before? No.

5. Are red and green the colors that you typically associate with Christmas the most, or is there another color that you have in mind? What is it? Yeah, those are the main ones for sure. Also silver and gold.

6. What’s the worst Christmas gift that you’ve ever gotten before, and what made it the worst? Eh.

7. Do you give your spare change to the mall Santas? Is this a thing people do? I thought you just take pictures with mall Santas? Are you thinking of the Salvation Army people? In which case, no, because the Salvation army is homophobic. 

8. Do you get to open up any presents on Christmas Eve? Yes, we host Christmas Eve at my dad’s house and those guests usually bring gifts..

9. Do you believe in the saying that “good things come in small packages”? Sure.

10. Do your family members wrap your gifts, or were they just sitting there under the tree? How about when your parents were kids? Of course they’re wrapped! 11. Do you know anyone who has a birthday on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day? Have you ever gotten a gift that was meant for both your birthday as well as Christmas, either because it was expensive or because the two holidays are close together? Yes to the first part, no to the second part.

12. Are you someone who needs to work on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, or are you able to have those days off to spend time with your loved ones? I am able to have those days off and then some. My job is required to give us Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Years Eve, and New Years Day off. A few years ago they started giving us the days in between too. This year, since the holidays are both are Saturdays and Sundays, we have the 23rd to the 2nd off. 

13. Have you ever gone on any sort of Christmas-themed scavenger hunt before? How about played Christmas-themed bingo? I’m pretty sure I’ve played Christmas themed bingo in elementary school.

14. Is Christmas your favorite holiday? If so, why? If not - then which holiday is your favorite instead? It’s definitely up there. I might like Halloween a bit more.

15. When was the last time you sat down and made an actual Christmas gift? How often do people ask you what you want for Christmas and you’re unable to think of anything concrete until after the holidays have passed? I’m going to guess based on the second part of this question that you mean a Christmas list? I made one for this year. 

16. Do you watch “Kickoff to Christmas” or “Countdown to Christmas” movie specials on the FreeForm channel? When do you start counting down the days until Christmas? Nah.

17. Does it ever deeply concern you to know that Santa knows when you’re sleeping, and he knows when you’re awake? He’s a creep.

18. What would you do if your grandma got run over by a reindeer? Well, both my grandmothers are dead, so.  

19. What’s the most unusual thing that you’ve ever wanted for Christmas? (like two front teeth or a hippopotamus, perhaps) I can’t think of anything, but I am sure I asked for weird shit as a kid.

20. Do you donate toys to your local toy drive, or offer food for Christmas meals during this time? I have.

[pinerhot]

Holiday gift

However, our top priority is to provide gifts for every child living in our 20 homes and for families identified as especially in need. We make every effort to match gifts with the child sponsored. If I "sponsor" a child, is there a guarantee the child will receive all the gifts I purchase for him/her? If you complete a Donation Receipt Form and mail it to One Alpha Avenue, Voorhees NJ 08043, you will receive a thank you from Center For Family Services. All gifts go to a children and families served through one of our programs. All donors will receive a thank you letter from Center For Family Services. Will I get a personal thank you for my gift?ĭue to privacy and confidentiality, you will not receive a personal thank you from a child/family. Holiday activities take place in all of our caring homes and your gifts will send a message of care and support to the children in our care. The holidays can be a very difficult time of year, and our trained staff are prepared to provide the best possible care. Some of our children have experienced trauma, abuse and neglect. We are not able to provide donors the opportunity to deliver gifts directly to our children in order to protect the safety and confidentiality of the children in our care. This year your monetary donation is the safest and most effective way to get gifts to a child in need.Ĭan I meet the kids or deliver my gift(s) directly to them? We welcome monteary gifts to support children of all ages. What kinds of items are needed most? Which age group? However, gifts of wrapping paper are always appreciated! If we receive wrapped gifts, we will need to unwrap them in order to be sure what each child is receiving and that it is age or size or developmentally appropriate. In past years, we asked for all gifts to be unwrapped. This year, the best way to provide holiday gifts for a child in need is through a monetary donation. This includes children living in our group homes and emergency shelters, as well as families in our care. To learn more email Liz or call 856.651.7502.Ĭhildren and families who are currently being served by Center For Family Services receive presents through the Holiday Gift Project. Your investment will provide direct support to improve the lives of children and families in your community. With your yearly investment, your company will receive recognition at our events and community drives year-round including the Holiday Gift Project. You can combine your company's investment in Center For Family Services as an Annual Corporate Sponsorship. With your gift designated to the Holiday Gift Project, our staff will purchase items most needed for the families in our care and for the children living in our safe housing programs, in their favorite colors, sizes, styles. 100% of your gift will be used to purchase presents for a child in need. This year the best, most effective way for you to get gifts to a child in need is through your online gift. In order to reduce the risk of transmission of covid, we are unable to follow the smooth logistics process of previous years, with gift multiple drop-off locations, a volunteer sorting and distribution site which included hundreds of volunteers, and many staff and volunteers involved in pick-up and distribution of gifts to families. Plus, it comes in five great colors for a Monday to Friday workout schedule.The gift Holiday Gift Project wish list portal will not be active this year. New Balance’s Impact Run Short Sleeve is a quality workout top to gift your boyfriend. New Balance Impact Run Short Sleeve, $27, original price: $45 Now, all you have to do is shop, save on some of the best deals and wrap that perfect gift to place under your Christmas tree this season. Not to mention, I pulled a few hot-ticket items I gifted my guy in years pas for some options he still talks about to this day. However, the jolliest time of the year is *just about* around the corner, so we curated a list to get you prepared: the best holiday gifts to consider for your boyfriend, from cozy wear-all-day slippers to incredible bomber jackets. In a year already marked by celebrating his birthday and anniversary, the best holiday gift for your boyfriend may seem like a full-fledged mission.Īnd, while some gals can never have too many pieces of jewelry, a lot of guys - generally speaking, of course! - seem content with one quality watch and a pair of their favorite sneakers. The 34 best Christmas gifts for your dad - according to mine The holidays are near: Shop the 57 best Christmas gifts for moms The 17 best advent calendars for adults and kids you can already buyīest Christmas gifts for your wife in 2022: 62 thoughtful ideas she’ll be swooning over