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httpiastri · 4 months

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literally any driver: burying head in crook of neck, night kisses and shutting the other up with kisses

lacii my love <3<3 did this with lando, hope that's fine! merry christmas again, and i hope you enjoy this!! 😁

"lando, did i tell you about that time when i first met my friend clara?" the words are flowing out of your mouth like you're spitting bars. your boyfriend doesn't even get a chance to answer your question before you've started talking again. "oh my god, it's a great story. you'll love it. so, i was in a french class when my other friend, sarah-"

lando is smiling subconsciously as you ramble on about your adventures, just as you have ever since he picked you up from the club. his fingers help you slip out of your heels – not that you even seem to understand what's going on, way too focused on speaking – before one of his hands lands on your waist. he takes a deep breath to keep his composure and hold back the laughter threatening to burst from his chest at your continuous gibberish, before he guides you to his bedroom with soft touches. he chuckles quietly at the way you almost take the wrong turn and end up in his kitchen, too engaged in your storytelling to remember the layout of his apartment. he isn't surprised, though, because;

alcohol always makes you blabber.

in most situations, you're not the most talkative, preferring to choose your moments to speak with great care. but when you start to get tipsy, it is like you are the world's greatest extrovert. even after getting just a little alcohol in your system, you talk to anyone with ears, somehow assuming that they're really interested in whatever you're ranting about.

thankfully, if you have your friends around, they usually drag you away by your arm, apologizing to the poor stranger to whom you've over-explained the storyline of your favorite movie.

lando learned about this side effect of your drinking early on in your relationship. on your third date, after sharing a few drinks at a local bar, you wouldn't shut up for half an hour, not giving him a second to interject with anything. he'd been surprised, but mostly confused, until he got your text message the following morning: oh my god, i did it... didn't i?

he'd tried to pretend he didn't know what you meant, wanting to put it all behind you, but you'd persisted. i didn't shut up. i never do when i drink. i'm sorry :(

lando was always one to be quick to forgive and forget, not wanting you to feel too bad. everyone does some questionable things when drunk, and he'd seen tons of people act worse than you did. but after that date, there would be uncountably many more occasions of you not being able to hold back when booze was in the picture. award shows, drinking games at home with friends, podium celebrations. once, he even found you outside a club after a race, sitting on the curb with one of your hands petting a stray dog as your other helped you explain the meaning of life. safe to say, he is used to your habits by now.

so tonight, when he picked you up from your night out with a few of your friends, he wasn't surprised that your mouth didn't shut once during the trip back to his apartment. you were excitedly telling him about the people you'd met and the drinks you'd had, so eager to explain every detail to your boyfriend when you were getting into the car that you forgot about everything around you and he had to lean across the console to put on your seatbelt for you.

most of the time, he finds your habit endearing. but sometimes, like right now, it gets just a little tiresome.

"and then, when jamie came around, she was like, what are you doing?, and i was like, i'm just having some fun!"

you're both sitting on the edge of his bed by now, after lando's helped you change into something more comfortable for the night, your mouth still running like you're one of the gilmore girls. you don't even flinch when his hands reach for your cheeks and he stares intently in your eyes – but he can't do anything other than smile.

lando loves your voice. he loves it when you're whispering something in his ear when you're out with friends, when you're ranting to him about some stupid coworker, and maybe especially when you're moaning and whining his name.

but now, he reckons you've talked enough for today. your vocal cords must be sore, and his ears are about to fall off, so it's time to call it a night – and he only sees one way to shut you up.

mid-sentence, lando leans in, pressing his lips to yours. he swallows the yelp you let out in surprise, one of his hands gliding to the back of your neck to keep you close. it doesn't take long for you to relax into the kiss, your lips moving with his while your hands reach for the neckline of his hoodie.

it's so easy to get lost in kissing lando. when he parts the kiss, you find yourself wanting to seal your lips again, already missing the feeling. your mind is now completely blank; all you can think of is the kiss. the man beside you laughs at your hazy expression, utterly amused by how you're suddenly quiet for more than five seconds (something he's sure hasn't happened yet tonight).

when you slowly open your eyes, the very content look on lando's face makes something click in your mind. he sudden kiss, his big grin...

"was i rambling again?"

the silence that follows gives you your answer, and you throw your head back as you let out a little groan. "hey, don't worry about it."

"i really didn't mean to. you know how it is, it just happens, and i don't really feel it as it happens, you know? it's just, the alcohol, it's not my intention. i actually told sarah today that-"

and for the second time, lando pulls you into him, quieting you down with his own lips. this time, as you (for the most part) understand what he's doing, you can't help but giggle into the kiss. your boyfriend matches your smile, taking your bottom lip between his teeth as a joking warning. he lets it flop back against your teeth as he pulls away to look at you again, but you've already lunged forward, head resting against his shoulder.

"i'm sorry," you start, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck. "i really am."

his arms snake around your waist before he leans back against the bed, pulling you down with him and into his side. "don't be," he answers, one of his hands reaching up to the back of your head, stroking your hair. "it's cute. you're cute." you continue hiding in his skin and he makes himself more comfortable in bed, pulling the blanket over you both. "we'll talk more tomorrow, okay?"

he feels you shake your head. "i'm done talking. i've talked enough. you know those tiktok videos where you only have a certain amount of words you're allowed to say every year? that's me. i've run out of words, i used them all today."

"oh yeah, i can tell," lando chuckles, pressing his lips to the top of your head. "close your eyes, baby. tell me about those tiktok videos tomorrow."

"didn't you hear me? i said no more words. i won't talk tomorrow because-"

lando sighs. it's going to be a long night.

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jay-auris · 1 year

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The problem: you are Michael Bublé, it is 2011 and you would like to make a Christmas album. Your producers want you to sing the classic Christmas song "Santa, Baby," but if you sing it as intended, it's gonna come off as, like, super gay

The proposed solution: you will rewrite the lyrics to the song to imply a platonic friendship between yourself and the man in red, making Santa a real bro who's gonna help you get laid by some hunnies, with cool, masculine gifts like a steel blue convertible, a yacht and tickets to a Canadian hockey game

The reality: the combination of the eroticism of your voice and the inherently sexual vibes of the song means you create a story about a closeted gay guy desperately repressing his desire to - as the kids say - fuck that old man, no homo'ing your way through asking him to trim your tree, promising you'll be such a good boy if he treats you well, and begging him to slide down your chimney

#santa baby #Tell me I'm lying

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amphibianaday · 7 months

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day 1421

#uh just a heads up if you expand the tags to see all there's. a lot. very long #amphibian #frog #poison dart frog #based on my most popular frog to date (day 651)#inspired by everyone pointing out what they think it looks like #here's a fun secret fact the original guy is actually a phantasmal poison dart frog (Epipedobates tricolor)#(according to the original artists title of the drawing)#not Anthony's poison arrow frog (Epipedobates anthonyi)#i feel too awkward to really point it out though because they look the exact same. i cannot tell if there is a difference #im half convinced the same frog was just discovered and named twice #its very curious btw if you go on the (english) wikipedia page for either species it doesn't mention the other #while hereptiles.info (no idea if this is a trustworthy site) lists both names as common names for the same frog (incorrectly??)#while inaturalist lists them as two different frogs. curiously with tricolor having wayyyyy fewer photos #ok anyway that's my rant i went on a whole journey trying to figure out if these are the same frog or not and i have no answer #i did some more 'research' and i am more confused. some sources seem to imply they are now considered the same species ( e. tricolor)#i think my conclusion is i am willing to agree the drawing looks more like e. anthonyi. it seems like tricolor is generally less vibrant re #and the white is darker and more green?#i feel like thumblr should stop me from typing more in the tags at this point this is a whole essay #at this point i am failry convinced this is specifically the Santa Isabel frog. isthat the real subspecies or morph or whatever #or just the name pet sites are using to sell it??#i even found some sources (frog selling websites) refering to it as “Epipedobates Anthonyi 'Santa Isabel' Phantasmal Poison Dart Frog” lol #Anyways if you read this far hi. species are confusing. i am not a frog scientist #the first few tags are like an hour old now i just kept trying to figure it out and adding more tags

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bringiton · 4 months

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🎄 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS → DAY TWENTY 🎄 RISE OF THE GUARDIANS (2012), dir. Peter Ramsey "As long as one child believes, we will be here to fight fear."

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f1shart · 5 months

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slay

admittedly, i've been depressed these past couple months so it's been really hard picking up the pen and actually drawing. there was a lot more i wanted to draw, but i at least have something

veronaville and tanmeric are the only things keeping me sane anymore.........

#the puck ref sheet was for a secret santa event #(was absolutely terrified cause what if someone recognizes him and tells me i cant use canon characters)#(no one recognized them btw i was worried for nothing)#puck summerdream #shart #tybalt capp #almeric davis #tank grunt #tanmeric #hermia capp #ts2 #veronaville

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riaki · 5 months

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santa claus and his treats | satoru gojo x f!reader pt.1 of christmas event! wc: 3.4k oops i went overboard | cw: petnames, literally j pure fluff ur both STUPID in love, he’s the cutest! happy birthday pretty boy 🧸

"'toru?" you called, voice filling the dimly lit room as you peeked your head in through the door. the curtains were drawn, the iridescent green tinsel dotted with soft yellow lights framing the doorway of your bedroom scratching your neck as you spotted the white-haired boy sitting on your shared bed, picking at something on his lower lip.

you took a moment to drink in the sight— his soft white hair that fell over dazzling sky-blue eyes, the color of the lake dotted with fragile crystalline snowflakes that melted into fresh spring streams that fed nature with new growth and fresh flower buds, a tangible warmth when his gaze fell on you and an easy smile stretched across his pink lips. a little too easy, you think. easy enough for you to miss the way he swipes a coffee brown crumb from his cheek; the smile has too much sugar and cream for you to buy it.

your eyes slowly drift from his charming grin to the rest of the room. there's a forest green tuft of leaves hanging from the ceiling on a thin golden string; you recognize the crimson red berries and waxed leaves with spots of pearl dotting as a bunch of mistletoe, hanging right over the mattress. clearly, he thought ahead.

you snuff the flush from your cheeks as he perks up at the sight of you, straightening his back. "hey, baby! you must be my present from santa this year," he laughs, holding his arms out, an invitation for you to crawl into his arms and curl up on his lap like two warm cats by the fireplace. you almost gave in— until you remembered why you were looking for him.

"you're getting coal this time, satoru." you said, huffing as you walked over to the mattress and put your hands on your hips, attempting to come off as intimidating in front of your boyfriend as you leaned over and stared down at him. he just giggled that sweet, boyish laughter of his, scooting closer and capturing you between two strong arms to tug you onto the bed with him. the sheets were soft, and they smelled like him as he pulled you onto his lap and cuddled you like a life-sized plushie, all warmth and soft comfort that he craved so much.

"aww, really? but it's my birthday today," he sighed loudly, shaking his head as he firmly planted his hands on either side of your head to prevent you from worming away and planting a loud smooch on the top of your hair, before laughing as you pulled away from his grasp and gave him a glare. “besides, you’re anything but a bad gift.” he smiles.

“don’t sweet talk me, ‘toru. you’ve been naughty this year.” he wiggles his eyebrows at that, and you shoot him a sharp glare which just earns you a light scoff, but there’s a smile mirrored on both of your lips.

(maybe they’ve met so many times in the past that they know how to copy the other flawlessly.)

"but you're already here, my love. lookin' all pretty like the angel on top of our tree." he hums, crossing his legs and holding his ankles as he rocks back and forth; the teddy bear he won you from the arcade on your first date is face planted into the pillows by his side, donning a festive red santa hat. the white fluffy pom pom looks like satoru's hair, and you stifle a laugh at the thought.

"how kind of you, satoru." and you mean it— he looks like his own christmas angel; snowy hair and pretty blue eyes clad in a loose black tee with cheap printed red and green christmas lights over his chest. he looks unfairly attractive with those gray sweatpants on, too. you wouldn't mind wrapping him up in yellow ribbon and presenting him to your parents this year as your holiday present from santa, and then having your own fun with him later. you suppose you must've been perfectly good to land him; so pretty and fun, bubbling laughter that speaks of his care in volumes. and he’s their soon-to-be son-in-law, after all. and he’s a golden catch.

but it’s time for this white betta to be put in his place; he’s gone snooping where he shouldn’t have— or rather, scavenging would be the more appropriate choice. and he’s about to be skinned for entering the lion(fish)'s den. your matching red-green plaid pajama pants won't save him this time.

"sorry, baby, but you can't talk yourself out of this one." you said firmly, scooting closer to him as you sat back on your knees and gave him a look as pointed and narrow as the icicles melting on the frosted awnings. to anyone else, you might look like a wet, angry cat— but to satoru, it was enough to strike fear straight into the center of his heart. his fight-or-flight response kicked in (it only ever did with you)— and it was as if you could see the change in his demeanor. his eyes voluntarily softened, lids drooping as a lazy smile drifted over his lips like fluffy white clouds over a pale sun on a winter's morning.

"aww, don't be like that. my princess looks so much prettier when she's happy," he coos, all milk and honey as he reaches out and catches your wrist, rubbing his thumb over your pulse beating beneath your soft skin as he brings it to his lips and kisses your knuckles. so he chooses to fight, and you almost fold— almost.

you twist your arm in his grasp, eliciting a whiny yelp of pain; getting him to let go of you as you quickly flick his forehead. even so, he lets you-- he never turns infinity on around you, even at the price of his own sanctity.

you sighed when he gave you a dramatic pout, sticking out his bottom lip as he hung his head low in defeat like a golden retriever being scolded by his owner, soft hair falling over his pretty blues. his hands come up to cradle his head, rubbing the spot where you'd knicked him. "don't play around, satoru. where are the cookies i baked last night?" you asked, reflecting his frown with a pointed glare. if looks could cut, he'd be a red christmas on the cloudlike sheets. you were tired of beating around the bush, especially when satoru had a knack for making it utterly exhausting. nevertheless, it went on.

"maybe santa came early," he quipped, giggling at his own joke. "you never know, huh? he's an unpredictable old geezer. likes his milk and cookies, or so i heard."

"didn't know santa claus had the six eyes." you deadpanned, crossing your arms over your chest and looking him square in the eyes. "and he shaved his beard off, apparently." he feigns hurt, holding a hand over his heart in mock anguish.

"i'm no thief! it hurts me to know you think of me so low, sweetheart." he sighs dramatically, shaking his head. outside, the snowy wind howls in agreement. "besides, it's my birthday. you're suffocating the spirit, honey." he drawls.

you just roll your eyes at that, crossing your arms and shifting to sit closer to him. you will your irritated expression to soften, and it's reflected in the way satoru immediately relaxes, shoulders sagging as the anxious look in his eyes vanishes like the wilting ghost of fall on a christmas eve, leaving behind the scent of bluebells and frost on the wind. he thinks you've forgiven him.

that's just what you need. for him to let his guard down so you can spring the trap on him. santa may be able to get away with his yearly trespassing, but satoru's entered the property of more than your heart this time, and it's time for his holiday retribution.

"give me your hand, satoru." you said softly, voice barely a breath above a whisper. he obliges almost immediately, scooting closer on the bed so that his knees graze against yours, and you hear him suck in a little breath at the contact as your hand finds his.

you take his palm in your own; his hands are considerably bigger than yours, but you still manage to run a thumb over the ridges of his knuckles, gently massaging the soft skin over weary bones. a sweet little noise leaves his breathless lips; it's almost like a purr, and when you glance up at him he's almost as red as the glittering velvet bulbs dangling from the primmed branches of your christmas tree. he looks away, a subtle pout weighing down on his lips as he coughs loudly, as if the amber sap of a pine tree has caught in his throat, scratchy like tree bark.

"what are you doing?" he whispers, voice rough and hoarse, like someone took a fireplace stoker and poked his throat. almost a protest.

but you can feel him melting into you, and soon enough, he’s sandwiched you between his warmth and the fluffy blankets, the scent of apples and cinnamon weaved between the strands of his soft white hair as they tickle your flushed skin. his lips are soft and pliant and warm against your own; he's all over you, hands finding your wrists to trace tender, wobbly circles over your thrumming pulse with his thumb. he's robbing your lungs of air, needy in the way he cages you between his lanky limbs, lock and key with his free hand threading through your hair. he can never get enough of you, and he throws his inhibitions to the frostbitten wind if they mean learning to resist you.

it's spread around you like ripples on the surface of a misty lake, and when he draws away to stare down at you, eyes blown wide with a certain shine in his eye that reminds you of glowing embers, jumping from the lively blossom of fire on the grated dark metal of a hearth, there's a cheeky lopsided grin on his glossy lips. his fingers are slender, pale and callused, a gentle flushed at the tips.

"there was a mistletoe," he says breathlessly, as if that'll excuse him. as if he needs an excuse to kiss you. you just laugh, reaching up to trace his jaw with a finger, and he shudders despite the heater inside your room. the bunch of green leaves and red berries hanging above you sways in agreement.

but you can't focus on the dreamy look on his face; that lazy smile that dances over his lips and illuminates his features like twinkling christmas lights catching on each edge of a carefully cut snowflake, the sky's jewels. every time he looks at you as if you've crafted each intricacy of his world; patched the colors together and taught the light to reflect, you feel as though there are bubbles in your throat, and you have to cough them away when they're accompanied by a familiar rush of heat to your face.

it's all overpowered. strongly, by the rich taste of cinnamon. rich, sweet, distinctly festive, mixed with brown sugar and cookie batter; flour on the matching aprons satoru bought for the two of you, except the 'he' on 'he cooks' has been messily crossed out and replaced with a scribble that says 'she', and vice versa. it's on his tongue, his lips, the little dips on the corner of his mouth that makes him look like a kitten every time he grins. it tastes like wearing matching christmas sweaters, sampling sweet treats fresh out of the oven and laughing cheerily in your little cozy kitchen of warmth when he burns his tongue, a sour look on his face that wrinkles his nosebridge.

but, most importantly, it tastes like condemnation.

you sit up, briefly (and painfully) knocking foreheads with him when he's too slow to mirror your actions, but the complaint that's ready to stain the air like chimney soot dies on his tongue when he sees the look on your face. you look the same as you did the first time you found out he'd forgotten to pick up megumi and tsumiki from school. in other words, pissed.

"hey, pretty girl. you should smile; you look less like an ogre when you do—" he hastily starts, laughing nervously as he runs his hands through his messy hair. you've noticed that whenever you neglect to toy with the silky soft strands when you're tangled with him, whether it be kissing, cuddling, or... something else, he'll do it afterward as if to emulate the feeling of your fingers in his hair, even if it 'screws it up'. apparently, his skyscraper ego is too fragile to ask for headscratches.

"just a minute, satoru." you cut him off through gritted teeth, lips that should be stretched in a wide smile pressed together in frustration. your eyes narrow as you straighten up, sitting back on your ankles. "you ate them, didn't you?" your fingers dig into his skin, pinching his cheek. if his skin wasn't already stained crimson with boyish excitement, it would be an angry red now. you give killer pinches; he knows firsthand.

which is why he should've thought ahead and listened to the angel on his shoulder when you were knocked out earlier, curled up in a fluffy blanket on the couch, snoozing away. what was he to do? the cookies you'd made were calling his name. and it was for his birthday, and they were made for him. so why couldn't he indulge?

this was why.

and you know you've pinned him with your accusation like a throwing dart on a cork board; the way his gaze bounces around the room and his smile turns a hint sheepish and a handful guilty speaks volumes enough before he can even protest. but he can feel your wrath like an entire mine's worth of coal in his stockings, so he quickly throws his hands up, shimmying away from your angry pinch. the sheets bunch beneath him.

"listen, sweets, i just thought that— well, i'm sorry, baby, they just looked so good. and i only ate a few! i swear." satoru says solemnly, getting on his knees and throwing himself before you. he knows you're unamused— sitting there, crosslegged, looking down at him as if he's some chewed up gum you found on the bottom of your shoe. he might as well be. blueberry flavored, maybe? or mint, he's fine with that too—

"so you did." you just sigh, flicking his hunched shoulders, before you go soft again, and he sees pink. you reach forward, fingers creeping beneath his chin to tilt his face up. his skin is soft and warm beneath your skin, thrumming with a life and heat the poor overworked radiator in your room could never measure up to. and when he does look up, his starstruck gaze meets your own; you look ethereal in the warm light, and he wonders why he hasn't put a ring on your finger or started a family with you yet. maybe that can be the last gift to top off the cake of your overflowing knitted stocking, hanging from the kitchen counter; a mahogany box with golden hinges who's shine pales in comparison to the diamond ring in the center of the velvet.

he tucks the idea into his mental notes and grins, a cheeky flash of teeth. "so you forgive me, right?"

wrong. he should know better than to push his luck. especially when it comes to you.

the hand beneath his chin creeps up his face to squeeze his cheeks together, forcing his lips to pucker like a fish out of water as he tries to escape to no avail. you glare down at him, all needles. not at all in the holiday spirit, if you ask him. his face is squishy as a pillow beneath your fingers, and a smile resurfaces on your lips after a long struggle to keep it submerged.

he opens his mouth, no doubt to wail like a newborn, and you quickly withdraw, knowing better than to continue your assault. "geez! okay, fine. sorry. i ate them, you grinch." he grumbles, rubbing his squished cheek as he pouts and looks away, shrinking in on himself. his shirt is bundled beneath his arms, slipping off one of his shoulders to expose a pleasant flush on his neck. "seriously! you're such a killjoy. there's no fun in waiting," he smiles mischievously, wiggling his toes and nudging you with his foot. the fabric of his fuzzy reindeer socks bumps against your thigh, and you make another face at the red pom poms on the crudely-knit rudolph face.

"apologize." you emphasize each syllable, letting them fall off your tongue. they jut into his side like blows to his ribs; he falls back onto the bed for extra dramatics, letting it squeak beneath his weight.

"oh, the horror! to think that i'd be reduced to such a state—"

"satoru."

"—that i, head of the gojo clan, the honored one—”

"satoru gojo."

"should be forced to bow to such pious customs at the foot of scrooge—"

"gojo!"

you reach over to threateningly pinch him again, and he rolls away, tossing a fuzzy pillow into the air and kicking it at you like he's playing some cursed form of tennis. you scowl, catching the cushion and tossing it back at him. it lands square on his face, and he whines, crying about how you've ruined his beautiful, youthfully full, gorgeous face; how is he ever going to pretend to be santa and let pretty girls sit on his lap now? —and that one earns him another pinch to his arm.

"okay, okay! i'm sorry, my love. you're not the grinch, or scrooge, and i shouldn'tve eaten the cookies." he sighs, excruciatingly slow as he inches towards you again, wary of but wanting your warmth all the same. it's too cold to be alone this morning, anyway.

"without me." you corrected, unable to wipe the light grin from your face, and you watch as his face lights up, like a kid seeing his dream christmas present in the window display of a bright shop, hidden behind frosted glass and cold air.

he sits up again, scooting close and opening his arms once more. this time, you oblige, throwing yourself onto him and wrapping your arms around his neck. now he’s the one with his back flush against the mattress, soft as a cloud of cotton candy. he laughs, and it rumbles through his chest when his hands find the back of your head and he tucks your head beneath his chin, cradling your neck.

"without—" punctuated with a kiss to the top of your head, "you." satoru finishes, and you can hear the grin in his voice, cheery as a christmas carole. his arms snake around your waist, squeezing lightly as one hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt to gently rub your back. his fingers against your skin feels like the touch of a butterfly, wings like stained glass.

"how about this, pretty? we can make more together." he suggests, resting his chin on top of your head. you're smushed into his chest, the printed material of his christmas light t-shirt scratching your face, and the only thing you can manage to breathe is the cheap cologne you bought him (you don't understand why he uses it when he could afford the best of his own), but suddenly you can't bring yourself to mind. so you nod, and he chuckles.

"d'ya still wanna do cinnamon?" he asks softly, slipping his free hand into your hair to play with the strands, holding you close and cozy in his embrace. the burning heat of friction between your numb hands or a roaring fireplace don't compare to the warmth he brings you, soft and sweet and painfully human. and you can't really make yourself feel upset at the pretty boy with snow-white hair holding you anymore.

"nah. let's do peanut butter chocolate chip." you hum, muffled, and he laughs, hearty and full, the kind that makes his entire body tremble a little. and you can feel it, so you tilt your head up to peer up at him. there's a stray pine needle in his hair; must've been from your hazardously decorated christmas tree. he looks down at you and smiles, brushing your hair from your eyes and leaning in to kiss your forehead. it’s like a crimson wax stamp sealing his love letter to you.

he cuddles you close, tufts of his soft hair tickling your face like a tacky christmas sweater. "sounds unhealthy. but whatever you want, baby. santa's gonna give you all you ask this year." and this time, he doesn't use the mistletoe as an excuse to brush his lips against yours when you move to pick the pine needle from his hair. he smells like vanilla, swirled like espresso with a hint of cinnamon.

he may have enjoyed his cookies and milk without you, but there's nowhere else he’d rather be— no one else he'd rather share the rest of his time with, be it baking, decorating, or lazy naps in each other’s arms. after all, half the jolliness of the holiday season comes from being with you.

fish analogies went crazy… happy bday gojo !!! my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

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little-pondhead · 1 year

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Some fic because I love your au, Fenton is gender brainrot, and little baby dan cracks me up. Full disclosure, my only familiarity with DC is DP crossover fanfic, and a Batman movie I fell asleep during. (If I had a better grasp on the characters I would totally write more :(( i love interactions) also sorry for the weird spacing. Idk why tumblr did that

~~~~~~~~

There was an empty cardboard box on the table of the Justice League’s main conference room. Taped on the top flap, next to a doodle of Fenton’s logo, was a jump drive.

Heaving a sigh, Batman plugged it in and pulled up his screen on the projector. The drive, which was named “little baby dan’s evil playtime”, contained two files; WATCH_ME_FIRST.mp4 and its-a-secreeeet.pdf. He clicked on the video file, and immediately the projector filled with a blurry close-up of Fenton’s goggles.

After a moment of fiddling with the camera, Fenton stepped back, giving a cheery wave. His lab coat and goggles were a pastel pink, which was new. “Heeeeya, Bats! Whoever else is there! If you’re watching this, you probably weren’t there when I dropped the box off, aaand it’s probably empty.”

He clapped his hands together gleefully. “And Connie, if you’re there, this is payback for cussing around my daughter.” Batman was instantly relieved that Constantine wasn’t on base. Hopefully the situation wouldn’t require Constantine’s expertise. (Or any of the Justice League Dark. Fenton seemed determined to drive them all to an early grave with his casual refusal to acknowledge the supernatural air around him.)

“Now, as you’re all heroes, I’m sure you’re all familiar with the whole,” Fenton paused for a moment, as if searching for the proper words. “”You ate a burger on a Tuesday or something equally inane, and it kickstarted a series of events that led to you going insane and evil and murdering 95% of the Earth’s population and now you must fight your evil alternate self, because your time-controlling cryptid Peepaw said so,” shtick, so I’ll skip the backstory. Say hi to Dan!” Fenton grabbed the camera, and Batman quickly jotted down several notes about the concerning number of things the boy had just said.

The camera swiveled around to show Nightingale, holding a strange beast in a manner that reminded Batman of an “elongated cat meme” Nightwing had shown him when he was still a Robin. The creature bared a maw full of razor sharp fangs at the camera. Nightingale adjusted her grip to hold the creature’s paw and make it wave, which evoked a deep growl.

“Haha, he’d kill me if I did that. Dan likes Nightingale much more than he likes me.”

“Because the worst she has ever done is attempt to shoot me.”

The camera had moved, so Batman couldn’t visually confirm that the deep voice had come from the creature, but the voice didn’t match any of Fenton’s previously revealed companions. “Yeah yeah, her aim sucked back then.” Fenton gave the camera a toothy grin that was only slightly less unnerving than the creature’s. “Dan’s not technically me, he’s much more like Dani, actually, but the world would probably end again if we left him with his other... What did you call him?” Fenton glanced offscreen.

“Bane of my accursed existence.”

Fenton chucked. “The other half responsible for his existence.” Batman added more notes to his file. “So, yeah, Clocky left him with us for a bit to help along his rehab. But a certain psychologist-in-training I know says that repressing rage isn’t healthy, and even without a lot of his powers, he can wipe out most of a city in- what, an hour? We tested it. It was around an hour.”

Everyone present shared a look of deep concern. As if able to see their reaction, Fenton quickly held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t worry! Clocky reset it. Approximately zero people have died from Dan in this timeline.”

“Yet.” Came a furious rumble from off-screen.

“Yes, you’re very scary.” They heard Nightingale coo.

Fenton laughed. “Yeah, we need him- and all of you, -out of our hair for a bit while we concoct more evil plans, and you’re all the least likely to die to him, so you get to babysit! Thanks!”

He reached to shut off the camera before pausing and turning away. “Foley! Which of the furries is the one who really likes animals?”

“Man, do you realize how that sounds out of context?” Foley laughed. “I think Tim said it’s the little one. Damian?”

Fenton nodded and turned back to the camera. “Don’t let Damian try to adopt Dan. Or anyone. Dan will bite their hands off. I mean it!” To emphasize his point, he removed one of his hands.

Batman sighed and added “ability to remove limbs” to a list of Fenton’s powers.

“I’ll include a list of “tasks”” Fenton’s disembodied hand made finger quotes, “we gave Dan to keep him occupied. There’s some at the bottom for you guys. They’re mostly just blatant abuse of his powers for the sake of fun and science. I’d appreciate it if you’d let him mark things off the list and add notes on how it goes. Or you can do it. Or I can steal your cameras. Your choice.”

He thought for a second. “I think you’re supposed to leave, like, pizza money or something, but I don’t think you can get pizza delivered to space. Anyway, thanks for letting me blab your ears off while Dan’s probably committing war crimes for twelve minutes. For your sake, I hope he inherited my interest in space. Good luck! Thanks for babysitting!”

Waving with his still detached hand, Fenton ended the video. Batman closed it and opened the PDF as the few other members present murmured amongst themselves. Most of the pages were filled with a curling script Batman didn’t recognize. The fourth page had a huge, bolded header, reading JP TASKS.

The door opened and shut in half a second as the Flash burst in. “Superman!” The speedster wailed. “I can’t get this thing off of me!”

The Flash waved his arm around, sending small droplets of blood flying as he tried to dislodge the creature sinking his teeth into the speedster’s arm. Batman raised an eyebrow beneath his cowl as Superman quickly lent his super strength in attempt to pry the creature’s jaw open. Dan didn’t budge.

Well, he could certainly see the family resemblance been Fenton, Dani, and Dan. Shaking his head, he turned back to the list.

Task 1: Find Dan. He’s probably attacking someone.

He highlighted the text and crossed it out. This was going to be a long shift.

[Anon, this is me crying over the wonderful gift you have given me. You bastard.]

---

"Do you think Fenton's regeneration powers extend to his..." Green Lantern frowned, trying to remember the word the kid had used but coming up blank. "I dunno. But do you think if we cut off little Dan here, he'll heal back up with no problem?" He gestured helplessly to the scene in front of him. Flash was still screeching about the beast on his arm, and now Superman and Wonder Woman were trying to pry him off. Batman was standing to the side, silently bemoaning the lack of quiet. He just wanted one peaceful shift. Just one. Please.

"I'd like to see you try, hero. And I'm not little." Dan spoke, startling all of them. His grip on Flash's arm tightened, making the speedster squeal before releasing the man and spitting out a mouthful of his blood. Batman noticed that his mouth didn't move despite the clearly spoken words. In fact, when Dan closed his mouth, it was like he didn't have one at all.

"So you do speak!" Superman marveled.

"Of course I do. I am not unintelligent, unlike you lot."

Despite his pain, Flash still made sounds of protest that everyone promptly ignored.

Superman flushed. "I just wasn't sure. It was hard to tell in the video."

"Ah, yes. The video that the Fenton menace sent you. Was there a note for me in the flash drive?"

"Uh, no." In one of his less finer moments, Green Lantern stuttered over his words and moved in front of Batman, obviously lying. Dan merely growled and flew through both men, heading straight for the giant monitor. Batman barely suppressed a shiver. Density shifting? Might as well add it to the list. He could see Martian Manhunter, who was in the back of the room, tilt his head at the display.

Dan ignored the room as he used his entire body to manipulate the computer mouse and scrolled back up to the top of the page. Staring intently at the scribbles no one could make out, the heroes could do nothing but shoot each other nervous and confused glances. More than a few of them jumped when Dan chuckled deeply. Honestly, his tiny body was at complete odds with his baritone voice.

"Maybe rehab will be fun if he's letting me do this." Dan sneered, flashing their reflections a sharp fang. No one wanted to ask what exactly he was in rehab for. The little beast turned his gaze to Batman. "You are the one called Batman, who rules the cursed city, correct?" The dark hero nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. "Excellent. You will be my chaperone for now, just as Fenton decreed it. Good luck, mortal man. Pray, I do not destroy your home a second time."

Without any time to unpack that conversation, Dan promptly disappeared from view. Some blinking text caught his attention, and Batman scrolled back down to the English text, glancing at the next few items on the list.

Task 2: Do not let Dan read his portion of this letter until you have a way to track him. There is no containing him.

Task 3: Keep him with a chaperone at all times. (If you can)

Task 4: Do not let Dan back into Gotham unless you're fine with a sudden decrease in the clown population.

Task 5: Take him for a walk in Death Valley. He likes hunting lizards.

Task 6: Make sure he goes down for his 2pm nap every day.

Task 7: He'll ask for it, but do not give him any burgers for mealtime. It upsets his stomach.

Task 8: Dan gets ONE(1) sweet after dinner before brushing his teeth. Those green pop rocks Batman always carries will do fine; he likes those. :)

A sudden alarm blared from his wristwatch, making Batman tear his eyes away from the screen, indicating an emergency at Arkham. This time, Batman actually sighed out loud. There was more to the list, but right now, he really needed to find their new charge before he killed the Joker, from the sound of it.

#pondhead replies #anon let me kiss you on the mouth (platonically)#danny phantom #little baby man danny #except he's dan #supervillain danny au #god i can't get the elongated cat meme image out of my head #you are a genius #if you didn't catch it gotham was the city he destroyed #what did fenton tell him to do you ask?#well dan is very good at hunting #causing chaos and bringing certain peoples to justice all over the world #like a reverse santa #he also gave dan permission to go buck wild on the joker if batman brought him to gotham #if batman didn't STOP his escape to gotham #that counts right?#long post #dpxdc

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7s3ven · 4 months

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SANTA, TELL ME. draco malfoy

( master list )

IN WHICH… Draco Malfoy no longer enjoys Christmas, especially not when he has to stay at Hogwarts while all his friends are gone. But a certain bright-eyed Hufflepuff is glad to keep him company.

( draco x hufflepuff! reader )

“Santa, tell me if he really cares. ‘Cause I can’t give it all away if he won’t be here next year.”

—

Draco couldn’t remember when he had started to dislike Christmas. Maybe it was during his second year when he had to stay at Hogwarts for the winter and ever since then, he was required to do the same every year.

Draco mindlessly stared at the wrapped gifts his parents had sent him early. The cold Slytherin room was empty, everybody but Draco at home with their families.

The blond teenager was curled up on the soft couch, listening to the fire crackle and watching as the logs burned. Having had enough of wallowing in self pity, Draco slipped into a thick blazer and walked out of the common room.

He wandered around the halls, the sound of loud and joyful laughter catching his attention. He peeked out of the window, his nose slightly wrinkling when he saw Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. They were with two other girls that weren’t that annoying know-it-all, Hermione Granger.

Draco recognized one of them as Y/N L/N, a Hufflepuff who was unusually good at potions. The other girl was a dark-haired Ravenclaw with a stern beauty that contrasted Y/N’s soft features.

The group of four were playing in the snow, throwing it at each other and laughing when their noses turned red from the cold.

Y/N wore her yellow scarf which sorely clashed with her tight blue and white striped blouse, greyish-brown skirt, and puffy white jacket. She seemed to have fleece lined tights on because she wasn’t shivering.

Draco tore his eyes away from the happy friends and frowned. Even with his companions, they were never that carefree. But how Draco wished they could be. It must be great not having to worry about your every move and who you were friends with, who you liked, and who you were going to marry.

In a way, he envied Y/N. She was a pureblood brought up by muggle parents with no harsh expectations or demands.

On paper, she was a sacred pure but in every Slytherin’s eyes, she would always be an outcast. She was at every prestigious party in her bright and stunning yellow dresses, effortlessly sticking out like a sore thumb.

Draco released a sigh and ran a hand through his blond hair. He didn’t know what to do with Blaise and all his other friends gone. He had heard Nott was going on a trip to Paris. Wonderful.

Pansy was going to Italy.

Crabbe and Goyle were planning to visit a famous restaurant in London.

Millicent Bulstrode was going to New York.

And Matteo… the poor son of Lord Voldemort was stuck in the same orphanage his father had landed in decades ago. In the same room too.

Draco walked with no destination in mind until he ended up at the front gates of Hogwarts. He looked up, staring as the snowflakes dropped. Slowly, he stepped forward into the thick snow. He sank down into it and the cold offered a strange sense of comfort.

He had not been planning to go outside so he was wrongly dressed. Draco shivered slightly as the snow landed on his pale face. His cheeks were flushed red and his hands felt frozen. He wouldn’t be surprised if they were.

“You’re going to catch a cold.”

Draco hadn’t even noticed Y/N approaching him, her scarf in her hand. “If you plan to stay outside,” She uttered, trying to hand him the yellow clothing, “At least wear this.”

Draco looked her up and down, wondering why she was even talking to him. All he did was bully her friends, at least the ones in Gryffindor. Draco and his posse seemed to leave everybody else alone.

“You helped me last month. So I’m returning the favor.” Y/N brightly smiled and Draco felt his face heat up, much to his dismay.

Draco thought for a moment before he realized what Y/N was talking about. It was true, he had helped her but only because that boy who was trying to flirt with Y/N was making a fool of Slytherin and he didn’t approve of making girls uncomfortable.

“Ah.” Draco murmured, staring down at the scarf. He slowly reached out to grab it. “He deserved it.”

“Matteo punched him.” Y/N piped up, reminding Draco of what had happened. Yes, Matteo had punched the idiotic boy while Draco stood on the sidelines, merely watching. “His nose started bleeding. I’m all for defending people but was that necessary?”

“He’s done it before. Matteo only wanted to teach him a lesson. Sexual harassment is no joke. That boy has tried peeking up girl’s skirts so my statement still stands. He deserved it.” Draco uttered it more firmly this time.

“Where is Matteo anyway?” Y/N looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of the brunette boy. “I thought he would’ve stayed behind.”

“I’m not sure why he went back to the orphanage.” Draco wasn’t the best at small talk, especially not with friendly people. But Y/N didn’t seem to notice as she rambled on.

She was relatively good friends with Matteo. She was one of the few who could get away with talking to him and not receiving a glare in return.

“He told me he was staying behind but maybe he didn’t want to be alone again, since he assumed you were leaving too. He kind of envies you and your family trips. He’s envious because you actually have a family.” Y/N paused, slowly covering her mouth. “Ah… I wasn’t supposed to tell you that… sorry.”

She lifted her head, locking gazes with Draco. “You’ll… keep this between us, right?” She sheepishly smiled, “I swear I don’t usually spill people’s secrets…”

Draco shrugged. “I wouldn’t be able to do much with that information anyway.” The blond hair turned around to walk away, but he realized he was still holding Y/N’s scarf. “I changed my mind. I’m going back inside. I assume you’ll be staying out here for a while so take this back. We don’t want you to freeze.”

Draco wrapped Y/N’s scarf around her neck, nodding. There was a slither of a smile on his lips before he spun around and strutted off.

“Why were you talking with Malfoy?” Harry approached Y/N as soon as Draco left.

She hummed in surprise and slightly jumped. “What? Oh. He’s not so bad. He’s actually… somewhat nice.”

Harry scoffed and rolled his emerald green eyes. “Malfoy? Nice? As if. Anyway, we’re going to walk around the pine woods. Wanna join?”

Y/N shook her head and beamed. “No. I’m good. I’m a little tired so I’ll see you inside.” Harry smiled back at her before jogging over to Ron and Anna, the Ravenclaw girl.

Y/N pushed past the large wooden doors, walking back into the warmth of the Hogwarts castle. The fire in the Great Hall crackled as Y/N entered, intent on warming her hands. But she found Draco standing in front of the Christmas tree, staring at it in wonder and awe and sadness.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Y/N snuck up behind Draco, startling him.

“Jeez! Merlin’s sake, L/N, don’t sneak up on me like that!” Draco stormed out of the Great Hall while Y/N poured and huffed.

“Hmph. What’s his problem? He was fine before.” She shook her head in annoyance as she warmed her freezing body by the fireplace. “Slytherins really are bipolar…”

Though, Y/N couldn’t help but feel sorry for Draco. She knew he was the only one in the common room because Matteo had told her everybody always went home. Pansy confirmed it.

Y/N and Pansy weren’t close but they had worked on a group project together and for along relatively well. Unbeknownst to Y/N, Pansy tried her best to hate the kind Hufflepuff but she never could.

Y/N could hear footsteps approaching the hall and assuming it was Harry, Y/N didn’t turn around. She should’ve because as soon as she caught sight of blond hair in a reflection, she knew it was Draco.

“Come to yell at me some more?” She asked, a joking tone to her question.

“You helped decorate the Great Hall, right?” Draco inquired, getting straight to the point.

“Yeah, I guess so. Why?”

“I need you to decorate the Slytherin common room.” Draco held up a pouch of money, “I’m willing to pay.”

Y/N glanced at him as he jingled the coins. She shrugged. “Nah. I’ll do it for free. Let’s go!” She linked arms with Draco and dragged him to the supply closet where the extra decorations were being been kept.

“Why do I need to help you?” Draco grumbled as Y/N shoved the boxes into his arms. She huffed.

“What? You think I could carry all this by myself? Hey,” She poked Draco’s shoulder, “There’s things even I can’t do alone. Besides, you’re strong. Use it for something helpful.”

Y/N turned away, which relieved Draco because he refused to let her see his flushed cheeks.

“Wow, it really isn’t decorated at all. That’s surprising, especially on Christmas Eve. The Hufflepuff common room is almost too shiny with all the tinsel.” Y/N looked around the Slytherin Chamber in disappointment. At least they had their Christmas tree up, though it was a very sad and bland one. She frowned. “How do you guys live like this?”

“I helped you carry the boxes. I trust you’ll be able to do the rest.” Draco dropped the boxes full of decorations and hurried off.

“Huh? Wait! You don’t expect me to do it alone! I need to socialise! I’ll die if I don’t talk to people!”

Draco slammed his dorm door shut, making Y/N sigh. “He’s only nice when Matteo is around.” She mumbled, “Does he have a crush on him or something? I wouldn’t be surprised. He keeps turning down girls, even Pansy. And she’s gorgeous.”

Y/N sorted through all the tinsel, sighing. “I suppose if I were a boy, I’d go for Pansy. Or Hermione. Maybe Luna?” She picked all the green tinsel strings, making sure to leave every single red-colored one in the box.

“Daphne Greengrass or whatever her name is would be a good choice too.” Y/N uttered as she wrapped the green tinsel around the stair rail. “Hm, who else? Ah! Cho Chang! Cedric sure is lucky to be dating her. I’m almost jealous!”

Y/N sighed as she hung ornaments on the lonely Christmas tree. “Ginny would also be on the list I guess. She’s a total badass. Why won’t Harry notice her? If I were him, I’d fall in love instantly.”

She checked fireplace, and made sure to add some more wood to the flames to keep them ignited. “Pansy, Hermione, Luna, Daphne, Cho, and Ginny. A strong lineup. What about the boys? Matteo is handsome but I only see him as a friend. Lorenzo I would get with. Cedric? Maybe. Oliver? Yes. Dating Harry or Ron would be a little weird so maybe not. Besides, I ship Hermione and Ron.”

This went on for quite some time. Y/N had made amazing progress while talking to herself. The chamber was almost unrecognisable. Draco, who was cooped up in his room, clenched his jaw. He was covering his ears, trying to ignore Y/N’s annoying rambling.

But she kept talking. Over and over again. About useless topics too. Finally, Draco had enough. He pulled open his door and was about to yell something until he heard Y/N mention his name.

“Draco? Hm… I don’t know. Am I supposed to call him Malfoy? I feel like we’re on relatively good terms. Would I date him? A solid maybe. He’s so handsome but he’s a little bipolar. If only he was a little nicer. I wouldn’t mind kissing him.”

Draco slowly lifted his head, hanging onto every word Y/N spoke. If he was a little nicer… she’d kiss him?

“I’m going out. The room looks great. Thanks, Y/N.” Draco hurriedly grabbed her hand, pressing an innocent kiss to her knuckles before he hurried off.

“Did he… just say thank you?” Y/N huffed in disbelief. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard his say that.” She looked at her hand, still able to feel the ghost of Draco’s lips against her skin.

Draco had never been a nice person from the start but he figured the way to Y/N’s heart was to get on neutral terms with Potter.

Speaking of the devil, Draco could see Harry, Ron, and Anna walking into the castle.

“Morning, Potter.” Draco uttered as he passed the trio, trying his best not to scowl. “And Weasley and, I’m sorry, I don’t know your last name but I like your black hair.”

Once Draco was out of earshot, Ron and Harry shared a disturbed look. “Was he… poisoned or something?” Ron asked, “I prefer when Malfoy’s mean! It’s scary when he’s nice.”

“Hey, guys!” Y/N jogged towards her friends, wildly waving at them. “Have you guys seen Draco?”

“Yeah. He went that way. But he was acting super weird. What did you say to him to make him greet us and tell Anna he likes her hair.” Ron scoffed, “Or did you slip a potion into his drink?”

“Huh? I didn’t say anything!” Y/N exclaimed. She paused. “Oh… well, I did say I would kiss him if he was a little nicer. But I was talking to myself.”

“Bloody hell, Y/N.” Harry uttered. “Malfoy probably fancies you.”

“What?” Y/N tilted her head to the side.

“If you think about it, it makes sense.” Anna retorted. “I mean, he’s always trying to talk to you. He doesn’t bully you and he seems to stay away from bullying your friends as well. I mean, Harry and Ron and ‘Mione excluded.”

Y/N sighed. “That doesn’t prove anything. Do you know where he went? I need to ask him about the decorations. I’m decorating the Slytherin chamber.”

“He walked outside. Probably to Hogsmeade to go on a shopping spree for himself.” Ron quietly scoffed.

“Tell me if you see him, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Y/N walked back to the chamber, staring at the work she had done. The Slytherin common room looked much more comforting and welcoming now. She smiled proudly, placing her hands on her hips.

“Looks good, Y/N.” She happily high-fived herself. Y/N sat down on the couch, slightly slouching. She waved her wand around while mumbling a small charm, smiling as snowflakes floated around.

Hours eventually passed and Draco still hadn’t returned. Y/N had finished decorating and she had refurbished the fire as well. She was so bored she eventually found a way into Draco’s dorm and cleaned it too.

“Santa, tell me, if you’re really there. Don’t make me fall in love again if he won’t be here next year.” Y/N quietly sang, humming the beat to the muggle song. She had went to fetch Hermione’s gift, a small radio that played all kinds of songs. Y/N was enjoying it very much.

She grinned as she happily swung her legs. She stood up to check on the fire, slightly dancing.

The chorus played again, and this time Y/N sang louder.

At that time, Draco walked in. He froze, watching as Y/N surprisingly hit all the high notes in the Ariana Grande song.

Draco slowly smiled, strutting towards Y/N. He tapped her shoulder, “You’re a good singer.” He complimented her.

“Oh… thanks. What took you so long? I finished ages ago.”

“And you didn’t leave?”

“I, uh… didn’t wanna leave you alone.” Y/N sheepishly smiled. “Oh, what’s that?” She pointed at the bag in Draco’s arms. “A gift for your friend?”

“I guess you could say that… but she’s not really my friend. More like someone I owe.” Draco held out the bag, shoving it into Y/N’s hands. “For you. Merry… early Christmas.”

Draco looked away, trying to his his reddening ears.

Y/N tilted her head to the side before she opened the bag, gasping softly. “What the… Draco… this must’ve cost a fortune.” Inside was a freshly pressed Burberry blazer.

“I overheard that you were going to Paris in Winter next year and it snows there occasionally, so I bought you something to keep you warm.”

“Oh… it’s lovely, Draco.” Y/N smiled, feeling the fabric. “I love it. Thank you… so much.” She couldn’t contain her laugh of happiness.

“That’s not all.” Draco reached in, pulling out a jewelry box. “Vivienne Westwood.” He uttered, showing her the beautiful silver necklace.

Y/N gasped again. “You didn’t have to do this… you spent way too much money, Draco.”

“I wanted to do this. Consider it my thanks for decoration. It looks great. Turn around so I can put this on you.”

Y/N slowly spun around, feeling Draco’s cold hands against her neck. He gently pushed her hair aside, lingering for a moment too long. He put the necklace around her neck, carefully clasping it.

“Thank you.” Y/N grasped the pendant, smiling. “I love it. And I love the blazer too.”

Draco was still standing behind her, not wanting to move as he inhaled the smell of her sweet perfume.

“Y/N.” He whispered, “Can I…” Draco hesitated, “Can I kiss you?”

“What?” Y/N turned around in shock, staring at him with wide eyes. Draco, misunderstanding it as rejection, frowned.

“Sorry. I just blurted it out. I didn’t mean it.”

The clock in the common room loudly chimed as it reached twelve o’clock, a reminder of what day it was now. Christmas.

Y/N reached out, grabbing Draco and pulled him forward. She quickly kissed him and shyly pulled away, her cheeks flushed bright red just like Draco’s ears.

“Merry Christmas, Draco.”

#harry potter x reader #draco malfoy #slytherin #hufflepuff #gryffindor #ravenclaw #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #harry potter fanfiction #hermione granger #ron weasley #hogwarts mystery #one shot #all i want for christmas is you #santa tell me #christmas special

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mabaki · 4 months

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HOORAAAY ITS WINTERSDAAYYYY THAT MEANS ALL THE FREE DRINKS AAAAYY Have a shirtless Mbk santa because why not i need more excuses to draw him shirtless ALWAYS

#gw2 #guildwars2 #guild wars 2 #sylvari #mabaki #my art #sketch color #wintersday #IM FRICKIN LOSING IT no im not LMAO wanted to draw something festiv #A QUICK SKETCH I TELL MYSELF #A PINUP SANTA I TELL MYSELF #BUT NOOOOOOOOO I END UP DOING THIS WHATS WRONG WITH ME maaaaaaaaaaan #anyway i hope y'all EXCITED FOR HOLIDAY AND VACATION Y'ALL #YEAAAAAAAAAHHH HOOORAAAAY ITS WINTERSDAYY SHUT UP FROSTY

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blooming-smiles · 4 months

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sfm secret santa gift for @tinyabbey !!! i had so much w/ this piece ^_^ i like the idea of trencil and boris making amends and hanging out after the habitat (and im sure trevor is just as suspicious of them both to nat’s dismay asdhjh)

#smile for me secret santa 2023 #sfmsecretsanta2023 #smile for me game #s4m #boris habit #trencil varnnia #nat vancey #trevor garbo #lil habby #also side note if u cant tell the stuff trevors pouring is salt #bloomart

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httpiastri · 5 months

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santa tell me with liam and “you just lying there and looking pretty is enough for me” 😏😏

liam 🥺🥺 thank u for sending this in sweetheart aaaaaa all of my liam fics have gotten stuck in my drafts for so long, finally time to post something……

"liam- fuck!"

the filthy sounds leaving you has your boyfriend smiling into your folds, humming in satisfaction. your hands grasp the bed covers as a wave of pleasure washes over you, your vision turning black and your mind growing hazy.

liam's touch is soft and innocent now, much unlike how he's been up until this moment and much unlike how your body responds to it. his thumbs brush the insides of your thighs, lips leaving sweet kisses leading up to the skin right below your belly button as he helps you come down from your nth climax of the night.

you'd missed him so badly ever since he last left. his warmth, his comfort, his touch. when you told him that you hadn't been able to come since he last left, none of your toys or your own touch being as good as his, you hadn't expected to end up like this; already fucked out by just his fingers and tongue, your body completely worn out on his first night back. he had been away for f1 and super formula duties for too long, so many weeks without any time to come home. you were practically starved of him – and he wanted to make up for it.

pride swells in his chest at the way your legs shake and your chest heaves for air, a little grin growing on his lips as he moves his hands up to stroke the sides of your ribs. "there we go," he hushes, lips trailing up your stomach. "you're doing so good..."

when you open your eyes, he looks so content, like he's so lucky he's won the lottery. in his mind, he has – to have this beautiful view before his eyes is something only the world's most lucky man could wish for. it all drives him crazy; your pretty lips slightly parted, your dazy eyes and your flushed cheeks.

a drop of your cum rests on his bottom lip, and you let your thumb swipe across it before landing on the side of his cheek. you pull his face down to yours and kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue when he licks into you. liam must have some kind of superpower of never getting tired because even now, when he's jetlagged and exhausted after working so much, his entire focus is on you and your body. his hands move up and down your body, thumbs dipping inside your bra and gently brushing over your sensitive nipples. you reluctantly part from the kiss, keeping him close enough for his lips to brush yours as you speak. "my turn now," you tell him, hands palming his broad shoulders as you blink up at him. you then move them further down, fingers grazing his abs before reaching the hemline of his boxers.

but, liam shakes his head. he sits down on his heels, hands wrapping around your wrists. "no way."

"hey," you start, frowning. "you've done so much for me..." you wriggle your hands out of his grasp, reaching down to wrap one hand around his dick and letting a thumb rub over the tip through his underwear. "let me give you something back."

he lets out a shaky breath at the feeling, eyes shutting instantly as he leans forward to grab your sides again. your hands around him for the first time in so long feel so much better than he remembered, and he throws his head back slightly, showing off his beautiful neck and the way his adam's apple bobs when he gulps. he lets you pump him a couple of times as his grip grows firmer, basking in the sensations spreading through his body. but when your hands move up to pull his boxers down, he stops you again. "you're sweet, but no. you don't need to."

you stare up at him with a puzzled look.

"you just lying there and looking pretty is enough for me." you swat at his shoulder, a faint blush reaching your cheeks. you're just about to argue when he shuts you up by leaning down to kiss you again. he presses against you harder than before, the way his hips brush against yours drawing out a whine from the back of your throat. he pulls away, giving your nose a quick peck. "will you let me fuck you properly now, my pretty girl?" he asks as he nudges his tip against your entrance, only a thin layer of fabric separating the two.

you hang your arms around his neck, batting your eyes at him. you can't stop the pout from reaching your lips. "please, liam."

and who is he to deny his girl when she's begging so nicely?