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#meowy christmas
kahpao · 1 month
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I made a lil Nepeta ♦️ Equius christmas comic for a Homestuck holiday zine :33 I love when Nepeta acts like a cat haha, she is the ultimate cat girl and I love her 💚
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z-eddsworld · 3 months
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Meowy Cat-mas Christmas everynyan!!!
I don't have a drawing so have an ordement I made :33
And if you're not one for christmas then Happy Paw-lidays!!
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quinnmil · 3 months
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meowmaoz · 3 months
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I'm glad I redid my makeup yesterday because it came out a lot better the second round
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anika-ann · 1 year
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Merry Christmas (R.D.)
Type: one-shot, pre-Knives Out (no murder, Hugh)
Pairing: soft!Ransom Drysdale x reader          Word count: 3100
Summary:
It is that time of the year and you celebrate your first Christmas with Ransom. He promised you a soft gift and a hard gift. You’re pretty sure you know what the latter will be.
But about the former? Maybe you should be worried about what Ransom Drysdale sees as “Merry Christmas”.
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Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut because Ransom, French but in hot and endearing way, briefest angst (blink and you miss it), mention of anxiety, unhealthy amount of fluff
A/N: Loosely follows this fic, but can be read as a standalone; 
reader celebrates Christmas and gift-giving happens, but religion isn’t otherwise explicitly specified; divider by firefly-graphics 
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Slowly drifting into consciousness, you felt a smile tug on your lips; warm hand caressed your stomach, tender fingers drawing a circle around your belly button, lips pressing to your bare shoulder. A giggle escaped you at the tickly sensation, the plush lips curling up into a smile against your skin. The arm wrapped around you tightened, pressing your back firmer into your boyfriend’s front.
“Bonne matinée, mon bel ange,” Ransom whispered, voice still raspy with sleep, curling deliciously around the morning greeting.
“’s not fair to attack me so early in the morning,” you muttered, feeling heat stir in your belly, no doubt to his great satisfaction. Damn him, the charming bastard; he knew exactly how to push your buttons and him speaking French and calling you his beautiful angel pushed just about all of them at once.
His lips trailed up the side of your neck, eliciting a soft moan from your lips as you instinctively tipped your head back to accommodate his silent request for further access. His body felt perfectly solid and warm behind yours, skin to skin as a result of last night’s activities.
You had had troubles falling asleep, too worried about making the first Christmas with your boyfriend of eleven months perfect. Naturally, Ransom had had been quick to distract you, ensuring that the only thing you could think about was his name and just how well he could make you feel.
Having slept in his arms soundly, there was little to no space for anxiety now; then again, sex with Ransom was much more than only stress-relieving. Despite having plans for later which might end up with you in this very same predicament, you couldn’t find it in yourself to protest when his large palm squeezed your hip, a sweet and filthy whisper reaching your ears.
“I promised you a hard and a soft gift for today, didn’t I, angel?” he questioned as something very hard indeed made itself known against the globes of your bottom. “Let’s start with the hard one, shall we?”
In the very back of your mind, a memory of discussing gift-giving appeared, foggy and yet so clear.
The truth was, the expectations of your first Christmas had left you as excited as anxious, and the gifts – particularly their price – had had you zoning out and panicking for quite a few days. Until Ransom, bless him, couldn’t handle it anymore, deciding to confront you during one of your early December dinners.
“Alright, angel, I might not be the most perceptive guy ever, but I can tell something is bothering you. What’s wrong?” he asked you over your Thai take-out, watching with a funny mixture of caution and exasperation from across the table.
Startled from your thoughts, you didn’t manage to break it to him slowly or carefully – you just blurted it out.
“What are we going to do about Christmas?”
Ransom stared at you blankly, rendered speechless for a moment, several emotions playing on his face. As he tilted his head to side, it was carefully masked hurt that settled on his features.
“What do you… do you not want to celebrate together?”
“No! Of course I do!” you sputtered, horrified he could come to the conclusion you would abandon him to spend Christmas alone – or perhaps worse, with his horrendous family. That he’d think for even a second you didn’t want to share the lovely holiday with him. “I just… this is our first Christmas together and… this sounds so stupid, but I would never be able to afford the kind of gifts you’re probably used to and if you’re getting any ideas for me, I do not need a golden car or anything. So please don’t spend too much on me, I just…-“
You weren’t sure when your words started spilling from your lips so fast, but Ransom’s lips gradually spread into a beautiful smile, his hand covering both of yours on the table you didn’t realize you started to fumble with.
“Oh mon ange…” he hummed, running his thumb over your skin, “to be honest, you could give me an empty box or a bow around your wrist and I wouldn’t care. That’s… that’s enough.”
“But-“
“But nothing. Yeah, I’m used to luxurious gifts from my family,” he shrugged, releasing your hands in order to rise to his feet and circle the table. “But you know what they really meant besides money in a different form? Jack shit…”
“Hey now-“ you scolded him, not liking how he completely dismissed what others could only wish for – even if you wholeheartedly agreed it wasn’t about how pricy a gift was, but about how you cared for the person receiving it, actually thinking before picking the first thing you saw.  
“Sorry,” he uttered, placing his palms on your shoulders, dropping a gentle kiss on the top of your head, causing your eyes to flutter at the affectionate gesture. “As for the other thing, how about I give you something soft…”
His lips brushed your temple this time, his right hand moving to warm the skin revealed by the neckline of your blouse, deft fingers slipping under the hem and under the strap of your bra and lower, petting the soft skin of your breast.
“Ransom…” you sighed blissfully, cursing yourself for giving in so easily when his mouth moved to suck at the column of your neck, his left hand cupping your breast and squeezing softly.
Focus, you needed to focus, this was a serious talk-
“… and something pretty hard.”
You giggled, the sound breathy as you felt arousal flush your underwear, Ransom’s quick fingers pinching your nipple.
“Ra-an, I was being serious.”
“Uh huh,” he hummed, smiling against your skin before retreating and pushing your chair back and turning it around, “so am I.”
Any potential protests were stolen from your lips when he silenced you with his own, gentle but firm grasp on your jaw, angling your head for better access, tongue slipping into your mouth and coaxing every rational thought to disappear from your mind. The fingers of his right hand trailed down your sternum, over your stomach, until they reached their destination, pushing your legs apart so he could kneel between them, releasing your mouth only to pull at your skirt.
“Ransom-“ you protested half-heartedly, words dying in your throat when he pushed your already soaked panties to side and ran the pad of his index finger up your slit, looking up from his position with one corner of his lips mischievously quirked, eyes large and almost innocent despite his pupils blown wide.
“Shh, shhhh.”
Your head fell back, your body melting against the chair, legs falling apart willingly as Ransom placed a trail of kissing up your thigh, speaking his last words so close to your core his warm breath tickled your sensitive spots and had your hips thrust forward.
“Ne t'inquiète pas, mon ange… ne réfléchis pas. Détends-toi…”
At that time, you had obeyed his order, lost to the blissful sensations, letting go of your worries – much like now.
The memory faded as quickly as it appeared, Ransom’s wandering fingers slipping between your legs, caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh higher and higher, his wicked touch not quite reaching where you had begun to ache for him the most.
“Ran… please…”
“Mm… such a good angel, so responsive, so polite…” he muttered, laying his palm over your lower belly possessively, fingertips almost brushing your sensitive bud, causing your hips to buckle into his hand and whimper. “Don’t worry, what my girl wants, she gets.”
Foolishly, you trusted his promises and he brought you right to the edge in no time, only to retreat his fingers just as you were about to tip over; instead, he filled you up and had your reach for the stars together, mouth on yours, a filthy kiss tasting of love and need muffling your cries of ecstasy.
Out of breath but feeling sated and thoroughly adored as Ransom held your close to his body still, nuzzling into your hair, a wide smile spread your lips. Something told you it would stay on your face for the rest of the day.
“Good morning, handsome. Merry Christmas,” you whispered, turning to face him, kissing him lightly on the lips.
A twinkle in his eye told you more about his happiness than the slightly smug smile.
“Already feeling merry.” You scowled at him half-heartedly when he pinched your ass cheek and soothed it with a caress. His smile softened. “Merry Christmas, angel.”
“Atta boy.”
A few minutes of lazy cuddles and wandering hands later, a warm Christmas pyjama on, you went to prepare hot chocolate as Ransom sneaked into the living room to place his gifts under the tree you had decorated a week prior. Then, it was your turn; your heart skipped a relieved beat when you didn’t find but two boxes there, neither of them excessively big. You hoped no gifts awaited you outside or something; even as you knew that it would mean nothing less than Ransom wanting to shower you with affection. He had grown so much as a person and worked hard to chase away the demons of his childhood, but sometimes still struggled with accepting love or showing it in other ways than throwing money around without thought. And that was alright; it was a work in progress and you’d be there for him every step of the way.
Since he had promised you something hard and something soft, you had decided to follow the theme: something soft and warm, something hard and then soft and warm again. A silvery cashmere sweater, a hardcover from his favourite French author (maybe hoping he’d read to you from it, turning your brain into much in the process) and… well, you in a lingerie with a bow tied around your waist, holding a satin bathrobe closed around your body before the reveal.
But only because he had mentioned the bow around your wrist.
“I think I caught a Christmas elf mid-work,” Ransom commented with a sly smile in his voice, causing you to snap your head back to him, seeing exactly the expression you had imagined on his face – and the two steaming mugs of hot chocolate with the right amount of marshmallows in his hands. “Oh, nah. It’s just my angel.”
You silently snorted and grinned as you rose from the crouched position by the tree, making your way to him.
“Smooth, Ran.”
“I try,” he shrugged, his smile turning a little bashful.
As he placed the mugs on the coffee table, you tugged at his slacks to pull him in for a quick peck and a selfie in front of the tree to remember years down the line what your first Christmas was like – first of many, you hoped.
He kissed your temple, humouring you and posing for the photo.
“Thank you.”
With a sigh, his arm wrapped around your waist to pull you to his side. “You make it easy to smile for the camera.”
Looking up at him as your heart hummed softly, you kissed his cheek and you whispered a gentle ditto.
“Now, is it time to open the presents?” he demanded, grinning with almost child-like excitement.
For a guy who claimed Christmas had been about expensive gifts that had always meant nothing, he sure seemed like he couldn’t wait to open his – then again, perhaps the change of circumstance was precisely the reason. Ransom Drysdale, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, couldn’t wait to get a taste of normal, less shiny but much more carefully hand-picked gifts.
You could melt on spot faster than the marshmallows in your festive drink at such sentiment.
“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
It turned out your boyfriend wasn’t only impatient to see what you had bought him – but also to see whether your face would light up at what he gifted you. He was pleased with the sweater and the book, clearly more than touched you had remembered his favourite kind of reading; but he was downright ecstatic to see your eyes turn a little glassy at the diamond necklace he gave you.
Was it a little excessive? Maybe. Was it randomly bought when he had seen the biggest rock around? Not at all. The angel wing charm was delicate, peppered with the tiny gems, reminding you of the endearment he had so lovingly addressed you with – and how precious you felt under his gaze.
He clasped it around your neck proudly, dropping a gentle kiss above the thin chain.
“Told you I’d give you something hard,” he muttered, voice carrying a trace of smugness at tricking you into thinking he had just meant a certain part of his body.
Bravo. You should have given him more credit.
Then, the soft gift: a sweater dress in the colour of one of his favourite jumpers. To match, he said. You simply wrapped your arms around him and whispered the sincerest thank you, chest brimming with affection when this time it was him whose tears actually spilled over. He clung to you, tender and strong at once as you shared a cathartic moment of serenity and genuine love, filling your heart to the brim.
Both of you jumped when a doorbell burst your tranquil bubble. Ransom snapped from his haze in an instant, scrambling to his feet and drying his slightly damp cheeks.
“I’ll get it, I’ll get it-“ he muttered as he stalked away, leaving you suddenly cold and confused.
You just sat there, mouth ajar, but didn’t get the chance to protest as he was already at the front door. Shaking your head, you reverently ran the pads of your fingers over your new piece of jewellery, before reaching for your mug to finish your sweet treat. Distantly, you heard Ransom talk to another man – surprisingly calmly, not annoyed in the slightest at the interruption. Suspicion started bulling in the back of your mind.
But then there was a little shuffling and finally Ran’s footsteps again, softened by his fluffy socks. You placed your empty mug back on the table, expectant.
Ransom walked into the room backwards, eliciting a surprised laughter from your lips at his bizarre behaviour – until you realized his front was obscured from view that way. He only grinned when your eyes narrowed at him suspiciously.
“Ransom, baby, this better not be keys to that golden car I mentioned not wanting in your hands,” you commented, growing genuinely worried.
His smile only widened.
“I promised you something soft, remember?”
You slowly rose to your feet, heart picking up a pace. Oh God. He really did have another gift for you. Lord help you all.
“That was the sweater dress, which I adore by the way…?” you said questioningly, only causing Ransom to shrug.
“Good. But… surprise?”
Three things happened at once.
Ransom finally turned around.
The thing in his hands let out a tiny but unmistakable sound.
Your hands flew up to your mouth, a small shriek escaping you.
“Oh my god, Ran!” you squealed, feet moving of their own accord to inspect the bundle of blue-ish grey fur in his large hands, a tiny paw stretching your direction, instantly making you coo on instinct. “Aww, hello baby. Look at you, such a pretty thing---”
Your head snapped up to Ransom’s face, horror seizing you for a moment.
“We are keeping this baby, aren’t we? We aren’t only like… borrowing him—or her. You wouldn’t do that to me, right?”
Right??
Ransom observed you with equal amount of amusement and fondness.
“Yes, we’re keeping her. And you get to name her, of course,” he assured you softly as you offered the kitty your hand so she could familiarize herself with it. She curled herself into a tighter ball, causing you to immediately retreat. “She’s practically a clean British Shorthair, but she’s a little shy at first.”
He manipulated the kitten into one of his large palms only, using the other to scratch behind her ears – and like a charm, she started purring, nudging his wrist with her tiny nose.
You’d be jealous if you weren’t so baffled at the trust the allegedly shy animal was showing him. And if you weren’t melting like a butter at the sight of the teeny tiny kitty in our boyfriends’ large but gentle paws.
“I’ve been stopping by for about two weeks. She’ll warm up to you too,” he explained, effectively stealing your breath. He had thought about this. He had planned this. He had intended this beauty with large honey-coloured eyes to be the soft gift the whole time. “Come on, petit chaton, time to meet your new favourite human.”
Your cheeks hurt as you smiled wide at Ransom’s soft words; you entered a new plane of existence when he actually placed the purring bundle into your eager hands.
“Oh my gosh, look at you, you’re so adorable and so so soft,” you cooed, feeling tears burning in your eyes when the kitten nuzzled into your touch, then leaned back against Ransom’s skilful fingers massaging her back. “Thank you so much, Ran. I love her.”
He smiled sweetly at you, fingers never ceasing the pets. All of sudden, you figured she was as much of a gift to you as to himself – to you both, together. The unspoken commitment was impossible to ignore, the magnitude of the gesture not escaping you. Once your hands wouldn’t be full, you’d smother Ransom with kisses.
“You’re welcome, angel.”
He led you back to the couch, reaching for his drink before putting his arm around your shoulders; you let your head fall to his shoulder, feeling so thoroughly happy you had trouble wrapping your head around it.
And then, eyes on your newest family member, your brain shaped the strangest response and you chuckled.
“What?” Ransom questioned, a smile in his voice as he looked down at you.
“We’re not having a merry Christmas.”
“We’re not?” Ransom wondered, genuinely confused and mildly panicked.
You shook your head and grinned at him. “We’re having a meowy Christmas... aren’t we, Austen?”
Ransom silently snorted, but leaned in to kiss your temple and caress the kitty again, humouring you.
“Meowy Christmas, Austen. Meowy Christmas, angel.”
He snorted to himself again, but you didn’t mind one bit, loving the pun. Without disturbing Austen, you captured Ransom’s lips with your own, hoping to pour at least half of love you felt at the moment into a single kiss.
“Meowy Christmas, Ran. I love you so much.”
His eyes shined, crinkles in its corners, as he bowed his head to steal another kiss.
“Feeling’s mutual, mon ange. Felling’s mutual.”
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Mics masterlist
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Thank you for reading! This was originally written for @chase-your-dreams-away, but I hope you all enjoyed nevertheless 💕 Happy holidays to all ✨
Dictionary of Ransom:
 - Bonne matinée, mon bel ange. – Good morning, my beautiful angel
 - Mon ange – My angel
 - Ne t'inquiète pas, mon ange… ne réfléchis pas. Détends-toi… – Don’t worry, my angel… don’t think. Relax.
P.S. - the original ACTUAL headboard to this fic 🥰
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mydonkeyfeet · 3 months
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bizarreandlonelygirl · 4 months
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Meowy Christmas from me to you 😼🎄✨
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isoleucille · 3 months
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Meowy Christmas everyone 🎄🎄🫶🏻🫶🏻
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lichlichen · 1 year
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stay warm! 🥂
(secret santa gift for @queryyy my beloved of their oc Valentina 💕)
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whimsywoo · 3 months
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kawaiikaychu · 3 months
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Meowy Christmas.
He Will Return Next Christmas.
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pufftheninja · 3 months
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Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays! 🎄❤️💚
My commissions are open! If you’d like to commission me, please fill out the form here. DM me if you have any questions. 🍙💜
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rickey207 · 3 months
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Chainsawmas day 18: Meowy/Nyakko
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ohmywowtv · 4 months
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Meowy Christmas! Cute Christmas cats! We made this video for cat lovers AND Christmas lovers! Enjoy!!
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squishlamb · 1 year
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meowy christmas!!! 🎄
get it as an xmas card here!
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