#<- santa clause activities | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

queenimmadolla · 11 months ago

Note

its maisie again

girl you arent getting any sleep ever cos on me

younger penny and wayne being in an absolute mood with reader because they saw her cheating on daddy…with santa claus 🎅

𝐈 𝐒𝐚𝐰 𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐬

(dad!eddie x mom!reader)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst and fluff, mentions of infidelity (no cheating), misunderstandings, implied sexual activity, hurt and a lot of comforting.

𝐚/𝐧: this started off as a little drabble and got way too long because, i dont know, i love them. nonetheless, i hope you all enjoy reading this. and as always, reblogs are appreciated and let me know how you all liked it (if you didn't, simply move on). merry christmas and happy holidays to you and your families! ♡ ♡ ♡

wc: 7.5k

“Penny…Penny…”

Your little girl stirred in her bed, a small groan escaping her.

“Penny, wake up!” Came another hurried whisper and finally the seven year old squinted her eyes open. She was scowling as she pushed herself up on her elbow, a fist rubbing her eye and pushing the curls out of her face.

“What?” She snapped at her little brother, the toddler perched on her bed next to her. He didn’t look remotely apologetic or sheepish for venturing into her room and disturbing her from her slumber. No, he looked nervous, clenching his tiny hands to his pajama covered chest.

He didn’t answer her right away, shifting uncomfortably in place with his big eyes on her akin to a puppy who had knocked over a vase and was now begging for sympathy.

Penny knew her brother needed a little more prompting so she sighed and sat up, hands in her lap.

“What is it, Waynie?”

He was quiet for a few more moments. Then, “....Sowwy.”

She also knew he hadn’t woken her up for no reason, “It’s okay. Did you have a bad dream?”

Wayne shook his head, short curls tossling.

“Nuh uh. I hadta go peepees so I gotted up and afta, I hud mommy in the kishen–”

“She was probably washing dishes, Waynie.”

Wayne shook his head again, this time with more urgency, “No, Penny! Mommy was talkin to Santa.”

Penny sat up straighter, any lingering sleep withering away as she became instantly alert and concerned. “Santa?”

Wayne nodded slowly in confirmation.

“But–But it’s too early!” Christmas wasn’t until next week, “What is he doing here? Does he make special visits? Are we in trouble?”

Penny let out a small gasp after the last question, horrified at the thought of Santa Claus coming to their home to tell their mommy and daddy how naughty they’d been.

But–but they hadn’t been! Penny had been a good girl!!!! . . . Mostly. And Wayne, too! But from the way Wayne was looking at her, he also must have had his doubts.

“What were they saying?” She demanded and he held up both of his hands and shrugged his shoulders up to his ears.

“I dunno! I camta waked you up.”

Well, Penny was going to get her answers. She flung her blanket off and hopped out of bed in her nightgown while Wayne climbed down after her, snug-footed covered feet landing on the carpet.

“C’mon,” she encouraged as she quietly padded over to her door and slowly turned the knob, holding her breath as she pulled the door open. When it didn’t creak, Penny let out a sigh of relief and crept out of her bedroom, down the hall with her little brother toddling after her.

Her eyes nearly flew right out of their sockets when she poked her head around the corner to see her mommy and Santa Clause standing in the middle of the living room, right by their christmas tree!

She hid against the wall, turning her head to gape at her brother who had a look of I told you so on his face.

They both peered around the corner once more to get another look at the scene, spy. Santa’s back was to them, but they could see their mommy’s face. She was smiling and had her fingers pressed to her mouth.

“Are you sure it looks okay?” Santa asked you, and you nodded, eyes roving over him.

“It looks great–much better than last years. I’m glad we tossed that one.”

“Is it, though? Because I still feel stupid.”

Then, to your children’s surprise, you wrapped your arms around Santa’s shoulders. And if that surprised them, then Santa placing his hands on your waist to pull you even closer should’ve sent them into shock. You only did that with their daddy!

“Well, I don’t think you look stupid. In fact, I find the whole thing kind of…hot. Coming down the chimney, leaving presents that’ll have those kids smiling for weeks, doing this to make them happy–it’s all so very attractive.”

“In that case, Santa’s not here just to make the kids happy.”

Penny and Wayne did not like the way Santa said that. Not one bit. It got worse.

“I think you should save that talk for Mrs.Claus, Santa.” But you were looking up at him through your lashes, a coy smile on your lips.

“What Mrs.Claus doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.”

Then Santa pulled you in, white gloved hand moving to cup the back of your head as you kissed him.

If your kids were shocked when you and Santa displayed affection, Penny and Wayne were ready to faint as you kissed Santa Claus!

Penny knew she had to get Wayne out of there, trying to quietly usher him back to his room but the toddler accidentally hit his elbow into the wall.

“Did you hear that?”

Penny and Wayne made a run for the nearest bedroom, Wayne’s. They scrambled under the blankets, settling and shutting their eyes just as the door opened, casting the yellow hue of hallway light into the room. They kept their breathing even as steps neared.

“Why is Penny in here with him?”

“He must have had a bad dream, he gets her sometimes. I’ve found them asleep in her bed a few times before.”

“Oh, that’s cute as shit.”

“I know–wait, get out of here. One of them might wake up and see you!” They heard their mommy hiss.

“Oh, crap!” Then heavy footsteps retreating from Wayne’s room just before their mommy’s loving touch tucked them in. Penny felt her press a kiss to her forehead before she could tell her mommy was leaning over her fake sleeping body to kiss Waynie, too.

Then your soft footsteps retreated and the door was quietly shut.

Wayne, the amateur, quickly turned to Penny and tried to talk but Penny shushed him and remained still for a few minutes. When she was sure her mommy wouldn’t be coming back, she spoke.

“Oh my goodness.”

“Bad wuds.” Wayne whispered, thinking of the swear jar on the kitchen table. And he couldn’t even go get it and have Santa put a dollar inside.

“Santa’s potty mouth is the last thing we gotta worry about.” Penny whispered back, staring up at the glow in the dark star covered ceiling as she replayed the image of her mommy kissing Santa Claus.

“Whudabout daddy?” Wayne asked, turning onto his side to face his big sister, little hand pressed between his pillow and his cheek.

Penny came to a grim realization, “We gotta tell ‘im.”

The next morning, when your kids came into the bedroom to wake you, they didn’t jump on the bed and lacked their normal enthusiasm.

Penny simply shook Eddie’s arm until he stirred, which pulled you out of your own sleep as you were laying on his chest.

“Good morning,” he rasped out, squinting through one eye at them with a smile.

Their reply were quiet mumblings of good morning. And when you leaned over Eddie, beaming at your babies, they didn’t smile back.

“How’d you guys sleep?” You asked, conjuring up the image of your babies cuddled up in your toddler’s new big boy bed. You’d wanted to fall to your knees and coo over how cute they were.

“Okay.” Then Penny just walked out of the room while Wayne lingered, watching her go before his eyes nervously returned to the two of you, who now looked confused.

“Hungwy.” Was all he said before he hurried after his sister.

When they were gone you pushed yourself off of Eddie and got out of the bed.

“That was weird, right?”

Eddie nodded mid-yawn, “She’s probably just tired still. You know how grumpy she gets when she doesn’t get enough sleep.”

“Takes after you.” You teased, just barely dodging a pillow tossed your way as you walked towards the bathroom, “Hey!”

After quickly washing up, and whacking Eddie awake with the pillow he’d thrown at you when you’d come out of the bathroom to find he’d fallen back asleep, you got started on breakfast.

Normally, your kids would be in the kitchen eager to help you, but Penny and Wayne remained perched on the couch, watching Looney Tunes cartoons.

“Is it a funny episode?” You called from the kitchen as you pulled the eggs from the fridge.

“They’re always funny.” Penny’s answer was blunt, she didn’t take her eyes off the TV.

“I’m not too fond of the earlier re-runs, never really found them all that funny until Bugs Bunny stopped looking weird.” You stated, trying to keep the conversation going. Maybe once you got them going, they’d come to be your little helpers.

No such luck.

They remained quiet until Eddie came striding out of the bedroom. The TV was all but abandoned as they jumped him with squeals of daddy.

Eddie bent over so Penny could climb onto his back while Wayne tried to swing and hang from his arm.

“I missed you, daddy.” Penny stated, arms wrapping around his neck from behind and she nuzzled her head against his.

“You missed me?” Eddie’s grin was clouded in confusion. He’d been a way for a solid week, three weeks ago. Corroded Coffin had opened up for some band they didn’t care for (and probably wouldn’t be associating with again, if the fight Gareth had with the guitarist was any indication).

But he’d been back since then.

“Yeah, I missed you a lot. Even Waynie did–huh, Waynie?”

Wayne didn’t reply, too focused on trying to hang onto his dad’s arm without falling. Eddie gently lowered him until his covered feet met the ground, and Penny was next.

With his legs back on solid matter, Wayne’s attention shifted to you. He ran over laughing, last night’s events

forgotten, due to a short attention span, while he wrapped his arms around your legs, chin resting on your legs with his head angled up at you.

That beaming little face warmed you right up. You abandoned the pancake mix to pick him up and he nestled against you, arms around your shoulders and legs wrapped along your rib cage.

“There’s my little love bug.” You sighed out in content, giving him a gentle squeeze. Your son giggled and tried to squeeze you right back so you entertained him, pretending to choke at the strength he didn’t possess which only made him laugh harder before you shifted him onto your hip–a mission in itself with how heavy your baby was getting.

“You wanna help me make breakfast?”

“Yeah!” He chirped enthusiastically. You turned your head to Penny who looked away a fraction of a second too late. With a harrumph, she stalked back towards the couch and didn’t spare either you or Eddie a second glance.

The two of you shared a confused look before Wayne was demanding your attention. He pointed at a wooden spoon on the counter and grunted.

“The spoon?” You asked, hand hovering over it as you waited for his confirmation. Wayne was getting better at words, but he still hadn’t mastered them very well. More often than not, he only spoke full sentences when he felt pressured to and sometimes that was too much for him, made him nervous. It was something you were working with him on and you’d noticed he spoke easier around certain people, namely Penny and his namesake, his grandpa Wayne (though to be fair, he and big Wayne didn’t talk much, just vibed in peaceful silence together, having to exchange very few words to understand each other).

He didn’t respond right away, just brought his fingers up to his mouth and stared at the spoon so you jostled him softly to bring him out of his head and it worked. Wayne grinned at you and nodded his head so you picked the wooden spoon up and handed it to him only for him to grab it and hold it out to his dad, practically stretching right out of your arms to do so.

Eddie gasped, closing the distance to take the spoon and his son right out of your arms.

“Are you telling me to get to work?” He asked, eyes narrowing at the toddler. Wayne laughed around his fingers, head bobbing as he nodded and Eddie let out a playful growl, lowering his head until his temple was pressed against his son’s.

Wayne didn’t find his dad remotely scary, not even a little intimidating. He only laughed harder with it trailing into a joyful sigh. The toddler pressed his forehead firmly against his dad’s to call his bluff.

Eddie gave in immediately, head falling back as he sighed in defeat before perking up, “Fine. You win. Again.”

Wayne was practically glowing with how hard he was smiling and it brought one to your own face as Eddie turned to you, cutie nestled against his chest with a tiny arm thrown over his dad’s shoulder.

“Where do you want us, baby?”

“Egg duty.” You flicked your chin in the direction of the carton of eggs, on the counter near the stove and empty pan.

His mouth dropped open in mock disbelief, “Your lack of trust in my cooking abilities is hurtful. You never let me make pancakes anymore.”

You scoffed, picking up the scraper you’d been using for the mix.

“Last time you were trusted with that, you put way too many chocolate chips in. Three out of the four of us were laid up on the couch with tummy aches for the rest of the day.”

Eddie pursed his lips as he fought a smile, eyes darting away to avoid your pointed look. The memory of him, Penny and Wayne groaning on the couch with bulging tummies and promises to never touch a pancake again was a fond one to look back on now that he wasn’t suffering.

“That was one time. Four times–baby, we all make mistakes.” He tried to reason, a boyish grin on his face. Eddie knew he wouldn't be winning this one and he was fine with that, he just liked to argue with you, loved the banter you threw back at him. His witty wife.

“You’re absolutely right, and you can mess up all the yolks you want. Except for Wayne’s.” He wouldn’t eat it if his yolk was broken in the cooking process, which was insane because you or Eddie cut his eggs up for him before serving him. It was almost like he had some sort of sixth sense when it came to them, knew when he’d been given an egg that’s yolk had been broken prior to being plated. After thoroughly testing his abilities, you both knew there was no way to fool him.

Eddie held up the wooden spoon in the hand that wasn’t holding Wayne.

“The f–,” quick glances were spared at the toddler on his arm and the little girl seemingly ignoring them on the couch, “-ffffreak am I supposed to do with this then?”

You placed your scraper down and picked up a nearby spatula, swapping the wooden spoon for it.

“Go crazy.” You teased, leaning in to give your husband a quick peck and cheek pat before you returned to your task.

You could hear Eddie talking to Wayne–or rather, narrating everything he was doing for him–and subconsciously, you offered the wooden spoon to your empty side, blinking a couple of times once you realized what you were doing and why the wooden spoon was out in the first place.

It was Penny’s favorite thing to use when helping you cook. She wasn’t at your side, at her usual place.

You craned your head to get a look at the couch, her curls barely visible from the top as she sunk into it. Maybe she was just outgrowing family cooking time.

You felt your throat get thick with something, eyes glazing over but you didn’t want to cry over breakfast and guilt her into helping you if she didn’t want to. So, you swallowed your disappointment and went back to stirring the mixture on your own.

As if she no longer felt your eyes on you, Penny got on her knees and craned her body around to peer over the couch, eyes filled with longing as she watched her family in the kitchen. She wanted nothing more than to join you but she couldn’t because she was mad at you. You all looked so perfect and happy but nothing really was. You kissed Santa.

You were only supposed to kiss her daddy. And Santa wasn’t her daddy.

You betrayed her and her daddy. You did a bad thing so you had to be punished, Penny wasn’t going to play with you, hug you or give you kisses ever again. It was a difficult decision for her to make, but there was no other way!

She turned back to the tv, its vibrant images ignored in favor of a head full of thoughts much too complicated for a child to understand. This was how it was going to be now, and something in her chest felt very heavy at the realization.

Penny refused to partake in any activities, locking herself in her room whenever you brought out something to do, be it baking christmas cookies as practice for the ones she and Waynie were supposed to make Santa, or helping with last minute decorations. She sat away from you and Eddie during the Christmas movie marathon, silently stewing in her misery–refusing to even look at you.

The day they were supposed to go see Santa at the mall, Penny made sure to stuff herself on her leftover Halloween stash of candy so she’d throw up, effectively keeping her family–namely you and her daddy–away from Santa.

There’s always next year. You’d chirped, helping her change out of her ruined clothes as she pointedly stared through you.

You’d obviously caught onto her change in demeanor, it was a major concern. Your spunky, outgoing little girl had become an overnight introvert, withdrawn. When you tried to talk to her, she brushed you off or claimed exhaustion, escaping to her room to avoid you. At first, you thought it might be something that happened at school.

A quick talk with her teacher after picking her up had confirmed her behavior at school had also taken a nosedive that week. She’d gone from playing with all the other kids during recess to sitting on the swingset alone. Her classroom attitude had dulled, she hadn’t raised her hand, talked to the kids at her table, nothing. The only other child her teacher noticed her interacting with was her friend Isabel. Miss Ripley said it appeared Isabel was comforting Penny.

The car ride home after that interaction was spent glancing at Penny through the rearview mirror and nibbling on your lower lip as you worried.

Was she just sad? Was it something else? Was your baby depressed? It wasn’t a warming thought, still, it was a possibility. You remembered the Charlie Brown Christmas special you’d all watched as a family the night before. The same sullen demeanor Charlie Brown displayed mirrored Penny’s behavior as of late perfectly. She either seemed a million miles away or looked like she wanted to be a million miles away.

One would think as Christmas neared, she’d be filled with excitement, sharing in the joy with her little brother but no. When Eddie talked to her, she’d perk up a little but anytime you tried to approach her, she shut down. Blunt answers and no excited chatter about the final week of school before Winter break. Nothing. She wouldn’t talk to you and it was really starting to worry you and Eddie.

In the end, after a long conversation between the two of you, you’d decided if this persisted past Christmas, you’d take Penny to see a child therapist, at least once, to make sure your baby girl was okay.

You had a feeling, mother’s intuition, that Penny was struggling with something big, even if just to her. You just had no idea how truly troubling the subject was for her.

Penny had grown more upset with you as time went on, but mostly, she was sad. At first, she was sure she had to tell her daddy about what she saw–but what would happen after?

Grown ups were complicated, she knew that much. Her friend Izzie’s parents had gotten divorced and Izzie said that meant she had two Christmases and two houses and two bedrooms along with a new step daddy. Even though Izzie didn’t seem all that upset about it, and raved about her two houses, Penny didn’t want any of that.

Penny didn’t want two Christmases. Penny wanted one Christmas. Penny wanted one house, one room, one family and one mommy and daddy. She didn’t want things to change. If she told her daddy, she knew everything would.

So, she couldn’t tell him. No way.

But she had to fix this. She had to!

And there was only one other person she could talk to, only one person who could fix it. Even if she was mad at that person, too, even if she had already tried her hardest to avoid having to be in the same room. She’d do anything to keep her family. Penny knew exactly what she had to do.

That’s how she found herself tucked into her bed, her blankie clutched to her side and fighting sleep on Christmas Eve.

You and Eddie had put her to bed hours ago, but she couldn’t sleep risk falling asleep or she’d miss her only chance at keeping her family together.

As the minutes ticked by, and the low glow of the Christmas lights lining the neighbor’s houses kept the pitch black from shrouding her bedroom, Penny’s eyes grew heavy. Snug like a little bug in her warm blankets, the sandman was calling.

Eventually, Penny dozed, chest rising and falling with her breathing. She dreamt of bright and colorful lights, chocolate chip cookies, and the comforting embrace of your arms.

She was pulled from them when she heard a dull thud. Her big brown eyes flashed open and she shot up with a start. For a moment, she had no idea where she was, nor even a sense of self identity as she wiped the drool from her cheek and smacked her lips together.

Her mouth opened wide as she yawned, hand reaching up to scratch at her head before falling onto her blanket covered lap. Just as fast as she startled awake, Penny fell back onto her pillows, nuzzling in as she prepared to go back to sleep.

And then her brain finally kicked into gear, reminding her of her task and she let out a gasp as she threw her blanket off of her, grabbing her blankie and rushing for her bedroom door.

It was yanked open in haste as her heart hammered in her chest, fearful she’d missed her chance to keep her family whole just because she’d fallen asleep.

Penny hurried down the hall, her footsteps surprisingly quiet. Before she even breached the doorway, she heard rustling.

And not just any rustling, it sounded like items were being placed under the tree in the living room. Presents.

This was it. This was her only shot.

Tentatively, she stepped out of the doorway and into the living room, mouth parting as the man in red came into view. Santa Claus.

For a moment, Penny was starstruck. The man she watched so many movies about, had heard so much about, who knew when she’d been bad or good, was right there. And he just so happened to be the man who kissed her mom. But he could fix it.

Without even thinking about it, she padded closer, until he was just a few feet away. Still, she couldn’t force herself to speak, couldn’t squeeze out so much as a peep as he placed another gift under the tree.

But she had to ask him.

Gulping down her fear, she finally spoke.

“Santa?”

Penny watched as Santa fell over over with a yelp, a few presents he had stacked near him toppling over him as he quickly squirmed onto his back, pushing himself up on his elbows.

She held her blankie to her chest, squeezing it tightly as she grimaced on his behalf. That looked like it hurted but Santa did a bad thing so it was okay.

They both stared at each other with wide eyes in silence and Penny noticed his beard had a stain on it. Icky.

“Wha-” Santa held up a fist to his mouth, clearing his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was much more gruff, “Penny, what are you doing still awake?”

Penny gasped, mouth falling open.

“You know my name?”

“Sure, I do. I know the names of all the children in the world. And…grown ups. Yes.”

Penny’s brows furrowed in thought, “Oh, yeah.”

Did he know she throwed up so they could stay home instead of seeing him at the mall?

Eddie carefully and slowly pushed himself up, adjusting the annoying padded belly belt thing he had to wear in a discreet manner so Penny wouldn’t notice his stomach was almost completely on his side.

Two years of dressing up as jolly ol’ Kris Kringle to shove the accumulated gits under the tree after Penny had almost caught the two of you putting the gifts under the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve, and Penny finally caught him in the act. He owed you twenty bucks. But what was she doing approaching him?

Eddie had entertained a scenario where she did catch Santa, but he’d been banking on her being sneaky about it, running back to bed to pretend she’d been asleep during Santa’s stop at their place. He’d expected to hear about it for the first time in the morning, while she was bragging about it. He never thought she’d just saunter right up to him–but Eddie was good at staying in character.

He didn’t suffer as a theater kid for the first two years of his high school sentence for nothing.

Once he was sure his costume was secure, he was able to move onto one knee as he regarded her, “You know, it’s far past your bedtime…”

He watched her eyes flicker to the floor before her big, beautiful eyes were on him again and filled with guilt.

“I know. I’m sorry, Santa. But I really needed to talkta you. I know you are a very busy man and you have to go to a kagillion houses, but I promise it’s important and I’m not ‘sposed to swear but I swear ‘cause that’s how important it is. Please?” The guilt in her eyes gave away to a sense of urgency that filled Eddie with alarm and he straightened as she leaned forward, eager to say whatever it is she needed to say. He had a feeling it would explain her behavior.

“I can make all the time in the world for anything, Penny. It’s a little trick of mine. Go on, ba-dear.” Dear sounded like a term of endearment a guy old enough to become a legendary figure for consumerism and myth would use, right? Yeah.

This was it. Penny got her chance and even though she was shaking in her fluffy socks, she persevered.

“I know it’s about to be Christmas, but-but I was wondering Santa, uhm–I was wondering if it would be okay that I could get something else for Christmas this year. In-Instead of my presents. I don’t want any toys this year, you can give them to the other kids. I just only want one thing instead.”

Eddie’s whole body stiffened, panicking at the idea of Penny freaking approaching Santa Claus to make a special request–and c’mon was he supposed to say no to her while dressed as Santa Claus–that she’d be disappointed to not see under the christmas tree because there was no way Eddie would be able to run out and get it, if he could even afford it.

“What is it you want?” Eddie was so tense he was clenching his asshole.

“I was wondering if….if my mommy and my daddy could stay together.”

Eddie was absolutely bewildered, soul damn near leaving his body before crashing back down into place. “I–I beg your par–hmn?”

Then, his little girl raised her chin, filling herself with bravado as she held his gaze, “I saw you kissing my mommy.”

Shoot him. Get a shovel, beat him with it, because it was all starting to make sense.

His eyes slipped shut as he chided himself, the fear he’d had regarding the unknown disappeared, replaced with an intense relief as he mentally beat the crap out of himself. Penny was withdrawn because she’d witnessed him kissing you, while disguised as another man, and it was tearing her apart.

Eddie couldn’t begin to imagine her emotional anguish all because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself and he couldn’t keep his tongue in his mouth.

He felt like shit. Eddie had to fix this.

“Kissing me—? Oh, Penny. You’ve got it all wrong. The only person your mother kisses is your father.”

The pinch between Penny’s brows returned, “But…It looked like you.”

“What? This?” Eddie glanced down at the red suit, pulling at the red jacket. “You don’t think I go down all those chimneys without getting filthy, do you? No, I get plenty dirty and your dad–a great deal of dad’s around the world, actually–had a new suit waiting for me. It’s usually every block or so that I’m replacing my suit. Yes, your dad must have been trying it on, making sure it would be perfect for me. I appreciate when they do that, otherwise, certain things might be riding up with each chimney I have to go down.”

Eddie watched as Penny’s features began to soften, her puzzled expression wavering before she giggled, imagining Santa getting a wedgie.

That didn’t explain…“How come he was wearing a wig like your hair?”

The two stared at each other in a brief silence again.

“Now, that, I can’t explain. I don’t know! He’s your dad, you should know why he’s so weird. You tell me.”

“He is weird.” Penny agreed, shoulders sagging as the weight of what she’d seen was lifted from her, because she hadn’t seen her mommy kissing Santa Claus. Penny saw her mommy kissing her daddy while he was making sure Santa’s clothes would be good enough!

“An odd creature, indeed.” Eddie agreed, happy to see his little girl was starting to come back to life, so to speak. “But he’s an odd, weird creature who loves you, your brother and your mother very, very much.”

All Eddie wanted to do was reassure her of his love but the corner of Penny’s lips turned down and her gaze turned watery, brown eyes shiny with distress as her head bobbed in agreement.

“Penny…” He mumbled, reaching to grasp her small dainty hand in his his gloved one as she whimpered and a hot tear ran down her cheek. Saying her name only seemed to make her more emotional, tears leaking from both her eyes as her lip trembled.

“It–It–hurted my feelings ‘cause, cause my mommy loves my daddy so much. She always says so, so it hurted that I thought she kissed someone else because–because–because she looks at my-my daddy with hearts in her eyes like in the car–cartoons.” Penny stuttered out, breath hitching as she cried and Eddie’s heart clenched.

He knew she was upset, obviously but he hadn't realized she was this upset about it. Working herself up in her head. His little girl was willing to give up presents, material things, to ask if he and you would stay together instead. That’s a huge fucking deal for a kid.

Eddie had never had a big opinion on his parent’s relationship. He’d been a little younger than Penny when his mom died and the only thing he knew for sure now, was that she deserved better than his dad. With the few memories he had of her, and from what Wayne told him she was like, he wasn’t sure why she even stayed with that deadbeat. Eddie certainly didn’t have a moment where he was willing to barter off toys he wasn’t going to get in favor of his parents staying together. If anything, maybe little Eddie would have asked for his mom to grab their stuff, and him, and leave his dad behind.

Penny had a better family life, you and Eddie made sure of that, and she was apparently willing to do anything to keep it when she thought she was about to lose it.

Eddie had to blink back the wetness at his own waterline as Penny continued.

“But–But it hurted my feelings to be mad and mean to my mommy more ‘cause I love her so much and she’s a good mommy! She cuddles me whenever I want and takes care of me when I’m sick and takes me a bath and makes me warm food and–and–and she plays with me and uses funny voices and kisses my–my owies and she says she loves me and she didn’t do nothing wrong!” Penny was full on sobbing now, dropping her blanket so she could free up her fist to rub at one of her wet eyes.

Eddie didn’t hesitate, he tugged her forward and she went willingly, throwing both arms around him as she cried into the fluff lining his jacket. Eddie held her to him tightly, his own eyes squeezing shut. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

So, this whole time Penny had been intentional with her behavior, purposely being cold to you because she thought you had kissed Santa Claus. But being upset with you, and treating you as she’d been, had also hurt her feelings because of how much she loved you.

Penny got mad at Eddie a lot, he liked to tease her a lot, and the emotion was never really directed at you. Even if you were punishing her with a deserved time out, she was more hurt than mad at you. And regardless of the punishment she’d run right back to you after stewing in her emotions, to make sure you still loved her even if she had been a little bad. You reassured her every time that there wasn’t a single thing she could do to get you to stop loving her. Eddie was sure Penny just liked to hear you say it.

What a mess. Next year, he’d force Uncle Wayne to be Santa. Just so he could be sure this wouldn’t happen again.

Eddie held Penny until her sobbing died down. When she started hiccuping, he pulled back and cupped her face in his hands, gloved thumbs catching the remaining tears and ridding her cheeks of them. Her big, sorrowful eyes were framed with long wet lashes. Reminded Eddie of a wounded puppy.

“Penelope, your mom loves you. Just as much as you love her and probably more.” If your I love you times infinities during an ‘I love you’ exchange with the kids (and Eddie) were proof, “What you thought you saw hurt your feelings, but your mom wouldn’t hold anything against you, especially if you were upset. All she wants is for you to be happy and feel loved. That’s what she asks for every year for Christmas.”

“Really?”

Eddie hummed in confirmation, caressing her cheek one last time.

“I miss her.” Penny admitted, wiping her eyes again as Eddie picked up her blankie and offered it to her.

“It’s a good thing you’ll be seeing her in the morning, isn’t it?”

Penny nodded and Eddie finally stood up, hands at the base of his back as he stretched and it popped.

“Let’s get you back into bed.” He held a hand down to her and she was about to slip her hand into his when she remembered something. She hurried over to the couch, dropping onto all fours to retrieve something from under it.

Eddie’s eyes widened when she pulled the fireplace poker out. Penny put it back into its holder by the fireplace they rarely used and returned to his side, immediately slipping her hand into his hold while he continued to stare at the poker, dumbstruck.

“Penny…uhm, what–what was that?”

“It’s a poky for logs, so daddy doesn’t burn his hands ‘cause he does whenever we use the fireplace.”

Okay, well, that wasn’t his fault. He had more control when he used his hands, the poker (stoker, whatever) just pushed one log further in but didn’t prevent the others from being nudged out.

“What, perchance, was it doing under the couch?”

Penny looked guilty, the tip of her sock covered toes stroking along the floor as she avoided meeting his eyes.

“...I was gonna kill you if you said no.”

“O-oh.”

Eddie felt a mixture of emotions at that revelation. He was greatly amused that she’d simply decided if the man in red who she thought ruined her family wasn’t going to fix it, she’d just get rid of him. He was also a little scared for his own life, and shocked that he might have been subjected to her beating him with it, had he said no or refused to talk to her in the first place.

“Okay...” Was all he could say before he led her down the hallway, still a little stunned.

Penny was exhausted.

When she climbed into bed, Santa tucked the big blanket in around her exactly how she liked and made sure to flare the bottom out so her feet didn’t feel trapped. He really did know everything.

“Goodnight, Penny.” He whispered, a hand stroking over the top of her head, mussing the curls there. For a moment, Penny thought he was gonna give her head a kiss ‘cause he leaned in then stopped. Penny was glad, that would be weird.

“Goodnight, Santa.”

And because Eddie couldn’t say it as himself, “And remember, your mom and dad love you.”

She beamed at him as he began to close the door, and when it was shut, Penny snuggled into her blankets and pillows, eyes fluttering shut.

She’d done it. Penny had planned to save her family, only to find out her family never needed saving. She was never going to lose it. Her mommy loved her, Waynie and her daddy and not Santa.

Penny was really glad she didn’t kill him.

She let out one big yawn, and promptly fell asleep.

—

After all the presents were under the tree, and he’d gorged himself a little on the cookies you and Wayne had made, Eddie made a big stink out of ‘leaving’ the house up the chimney (used the fireplace poker Penny had planned to take him out with to make a little bit of a racket), then he took off the heavy boots and quietly tiptoed to the master bedroom.

He sagged against the door once he made it. Jesus Christ.

What a night.

Eddie made quick work of getting out of the suit, stashing the costume in the back of the closet.

He didn’t bother throwing anything on, in fact, he slipped out of his boxers, too.

He watched you for a few moments, sleeping on your side, with your elbow propped on a pillow and your chin in your palm. You’d tried to wait for him.

Eddie’s lips twitched into a smile as he climbed into your side of the bed, slipping in behind you. He wasted no time, body pressing up against yours as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, lips trailing wet kisses from your pulse point, down to where your neck met your shoulder.

You stirred, letting out little groans as you tilted your head to the side. Always so pliant for Eddie, even when you were trying to break free of sleep’s hold.

“Eddie?” You slurred out. He hummed against your skin, tongue darting out for a taste.

That particular spot had your toes curling, but as your mind escaped the sleepy haze, you recalled what his mission for the night was.

“How’d it go?” You asked, shifting around until you were facing him. Once you were re-settled, he pulled you flush to him. If you weren’t awake before, the feeling of him semi-hard, pressed against the space between your pelvis and lower stomach certainly did the job. You hadn’t realized he wasn’t wearing anything on his lower half.

Eddie momentarily debated on giving you the rundown of tonight’s emotional events but decided against it. If you knew, you’d just beat yourself up. You never gave yourself the grace you deserved. Besides, he was positive Penny would be back to her happy, mischievous self in the morning. And after hearing her talk about how much you loved him—well, Eddie just wanted you.

“It was fine, same as it goes every year—but I’m thinking, with Santa being old and shit, maybe Wayne can fill in next year.”

He didn’t give you time to respond, ducking down to kiss you. Eddie worked your mouth open, letting your tongues dance for a while before his kisses trailed down again. When his lips met the straps of your tank top, he tugged impatiently on it.

“Baby, I don’t think you're catching on here. I’m naked, kissing you, all hot and bothered and for some reason, you still have your clothes on.”

You smirked up at him, your stare sultry through your lashes. “Well, considering I’m someone’s present, I’m waiting to be unwrapped.”

Eddie’s face scrunched up in confusion before you wiggled your eyebrows. When he pulled the thick strap of your tank top down your shoulder, it revealed a slim red satin strap beneath it. Lingerie.

“Oh, you’re most definitely on the naughty list this year.” He growled and you squealed as his hands slipped beneath the top, smoothing over the satin as he lifted the cotton away.

It was quickly discarded on the floor, along with the sweats you’d been wearing.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, two creatures were stirring and one even yelped.

─

Despite her late bedtime, Penny was awake the moment the sun was up.

Eager to see if everything was as Santa said it was, and to see you, Penny hopped out of bed and ran out of her room to wake Waynie up. Then after they brushed their teeth, they’d both jumped onto your bed to wake you (and the two of you were thankfully clothed, Eddie had to dress you himself after he was done with you in the hours of the early morning, you were too exhausted to even sit up on your own).

You and Eddie moved too slow for their liking, so they’d already developed a Christmas routine. By the time the two of you were fully awake and joined them in the living room, they were digging around the tree.

Penny put the present she’d been assessing down the moment you seated yourself on the couch with Eddie to watch them open up a few gifts.

It surprised you when she ran over and threw herself at you, arms wrapping around your neck almost tight enough to choke you but you didn’t care. Your arms wrapped around her little frame, too, confused at the 180 degree change in her behavior again, and more than happy to return her affection.

Penny’s eyes were blissfully shut as she tried to convey all the love for you she had in her little body, into the hug.

“I love you, mommy. You’re the best mommy in the whole wide world and I’m glad you’re mine.”

“I love you, too, baby. Always.” You promised, pressing a kiss to her forehead as a hand tried to smooth her wild mane down, though you knew your attempts were futile. Until she would let you do her hair, she’d just have to open her presents looking like she’d been electrocuted. Nothing but some water, a comb and hair products could tame it.

Satisfied, Penny released you from her iron hold to join her little brother on the floor.

You turned to look at Eddie, already finding his eyes were on you and he had a big, pleased, shit eating grin on his face.

He quickly leaned in, pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose and pinched your cheek before addressing his spawn.

“Alright, you two know the rules. Three presents now, the rest you gotta save to open when Grandpa Wayne and Grandma Maude come over.”

“‘Kay.” Waynie mumbled, more fascinated with the wrapping paper of the big box in front of him than its contents. It had little Santa’s all over it, and he was trying to count them in his head even though he was still learning his numbers and started making them up past the number five.

A lot of Santas.

Wayne made the same scrunched up face his dad made whenever he was perplexed.

“Santa….” He mumbled, before looking over at you and Eddie.

“Mama kissid Santa?”

All three of you gasped.

"Waynie!"

"WHAT?!"

"Here we go again..."

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amomentsescape · 1 year ago

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Hey, earlier I was suprised to find theres no Christmas themed slashers x reader so could I request just that with the reader and the slashers separately decorating, baking, movies, opening gifts etc? Thx

Slashers Doing Christmas Activities with Reader

A/N: You're so right about not having any Christmas themed Slasher fics! I was thinking about coming up with a Christmas prompt list for the Gotham and Slasher fanatics. If any of you reading this would like a prompt list, let me know!

Freddy Krueger

He's been ready for Christmas all year

I mean, have you seen his sweater?

He knows you've been excited too

So what better way to celebrate than to decorate?

And decorating with Freddy is unlike any other

He can create literal worlds for you

You want 50 Christmas trees in the living room? Sure thing

You want actual elves helping you out around the house? Coming right up!

Plus, Freddy isn't much for decor, so he gives you free reign on doing whatever you want

He most definitely will joke around with you though

He'll change the gold lights to red or have "Santa Clause" tied up in the corner of the room next time you visit

It's all in good fun, of course

You punish him by forcing a Santa hat on his head

Michael Myers

The only "good" holiday to Michael is Halloween

What's the point of Christmas anyways?

Show joy to others and share kindness?

Gross

But he's with you now, so he has to make you happy in some way or another

When you suggest decorating the house, he just sort of gives you that dead stare

But he doesn't disagree

He watches you hang lights up and set up little trinkets everywhere

He will help you with the heavy lifting or anything that involves being really tall

Silently complains about carrying an actual tree into the house though

He doesn't really get the Christmas joy at all, but if it makes you happy, then so be it

Jason Voorhees

Jason's love for Christmas has never truly gone away

In fact, he really appreciates this time of year since there are less run in's with rowdy teens during the winter

So when you suggest a Christmas movie night cuddling together, he's all in

Of course, you watch the films you both remember from childhood

But you also decide to introduce him to the world of Hallmark movies

Unsurprisingly, Jason has a thing for cheesy romance films

But something about the snow falling outside in the woods while a warm fire burns in the fireplace makes Jason feel all giddy

Even a slasher can't escape the joy of Christmas

Thomas Hewitt

One of Thomas's favorite things to do during the holiday season is to decorate the tree!

It's one of the small childhood memories he holds onto, and he's very excited to make new memories with you

He happily carries in the tree, refusing to let you do any of the lifting

And once it's set up, you both are digging through old bins to find ornaments and lights to hang up

You both even make your own special ornament to put on the tree!

And once it's all set up, he lifts you up so you can put the star on top

You both end up turning off all the lights in order to just admire the tree better, just casually chit chatting and sharing festive chocolates

Bubba Sawyer

It's surprisingly his idea to bake a bunch of Christmas treats!

He got so many ingredients

Cookies, cupcakes, pies, if you can think of it, Bubba wants to make it

Of course, there's traditional Christmas music playing in the background

Bubba goes a little crazy with the sprinkles

By the end of everything, the kitchen looks like a war zone

But with everything baking, the house smells amazing

Instead of dinner, you both eat your treats

Bubba has a sugar rush and ends up excitedly bouncing off the walls

You both end up crashing on the couch on top of one another

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms loves Christmas

He has several classical records of Christmas music that he likes to play throughout the month

He has you help him dig out the old decorations he hasn't touched in years

You almost feel weird touching them since each ornament is worth $100 or more

But you and Brahms do have fun setting up the tree and putting the pretty lights everywhere

He also finds some old books he used to read as a child

You both read the Christmas stories together, sharing nostalgic memories of what the holidays were like when you were both younger

It's just a very sweet and wholesome night

Norman Bates

One day, the living is as cozy and cute as normal

The next day, it's suddenly decked out in lights, candles, and a huge Christmas tree with several pristine gifts under it

You mouth was agape

Norman just stood back with an innocent smile on his face

You had no idea he would do all of this while you were out

But thankfully, you had a few gifts wrapped up for him too

With a lighthearted Christmas show playing in the background, you and Norman swap gifts and open them together

The home is filled with surprised laughter and "thank you's" as you both look at what was given

You two know each other so well

He must have been Santa since he literally got you everything on your list

Billy Loomis

Yep, you guessed it

Christmas slasher films

But of course, Billy knows that watching horror films 24/7 every holiday isn't exactly the ideal celebration

So he tries to balance it out

Buys (steals) several expensive gifts for you and wraps them up

He even buys a few candles in your favorite scent to help make the mood more festive

Orders take out for you both as well

This makes the movie marathon feel more special

He MIGHT even let you talk him into matching pajamas

He complains but secretly loves it

Stu Macher

Buys you two matching onesies

He also finds a homemade hot cocoa recipe he wants to try out

He does accidentally burn himself, but it doesn't change his mood any

He might not love this holiday as much as Halloween, but it is a VERY close second

He also manages to find the largest Christmas tree you have ever seen

It barely fits in the house

But when it comes to Stu, everything needs to be extra

You both spend the night flipping back and forth between lighthearted Christmas films and cheesy horror ones

Eric Draven

Christmas has always been a favorite for Eric

It's the one day a year where things are a bit calmer, and he gets to spend it lounging around with you

He definitely made Christmas into a week long event by giving you a different gift each day

Cooks you breakfast in bed

Is somehow even more affectionate during this time

Refusing to decorate the tree unless you are doing it with him

Finds a little Santa hat for Gabriel

He literally just spends the majority of the holiday being lazy and cuddly with you

Not that you're complaining

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yeoldenews · 1 year ago

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It’s Dear Santa time again!

Every year since 2010, I have spent the month of December posting children's Dear Santa letters.

Publishing letters to Santa in the newspaper first became widely popular in the late-1890s, though scattered newspapers did so as early as the mid-1880s. I believe this sudden explosion in popularity was at least partially the result of the famed "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Clause" editorial which was published in The New York Sun in September of 1897.

In large cities Dear Santa letters often acted as a method of getting needed clothing and supplies to impoverished children when parents might be ashamed to ask for charity. Subscribers to the newspaper could choose a child’s letter and provide the items they asked for. The most common requests were shoes and coats.

Sometimes newspapers offered prizes for the best letter (which I suspect often acted as another clandestine form of charity as the winners were often letters asking for basic clothing and school supplies.) Though these prizes could range from the ordinary (a sled or a doll) to the extravagant (a $20 gold piece or a live pony.)

Often local stores would enter children in a drawing if they mentioned the store in their letter - which on occasion would result in children hilariously name-dropping every store in town just in case.

Writing Dear Santa letters was also commonly an activity done at school, often following some rough form letter. These letters are fairly easy to spot as they often hype up what a good student the child was and include effusive praise for their teacher (who would likely see the letter before it was sent.)

So why have I spent hundreds of hours of my life over the last decade reading tens of thousands of these letters?

Children's voices are largely absent from the historical record.

Dear Santa letters offer an extremely rare opportunity to see history unfold through children's eyes - in their own (often creatively spelled) words.

1914′s “Remember the children in Belgium” becomes 1918′s “Please visit my brother in France”.

During the Great Depression the very common phrase “I know you’re poor this year too Santa” gives a glimpse into parents' attempts to explain to their children why they might not be getting as much this year.

1939′s “Be careful flying over Europe” becomes 1945′s “Since the war is over you’re making bb-guns again right?”

Requests for toy flying machines become aeroplanes become fighter jets become space shuttles.

Dolls and wagons become Shirley Temple merchandise become Erector Sets become Barbies and Star Wars action figures.

But through all these changes one thing remains clear throughout 130+ years of letters to Santa, despite the rapidly changing world around them - children have always been children.

I hope you enjoy these letters as much as I do! (All decade+ of posts are tagged “Dear Santa” if you’d like to see more than just this year’s selection.)

Hapy Holadays and Marry Crimes!

#as always - your tags comments and questions make the season so much brighter for me #and oh boy have I got some good ones for you this year #blogkeeping #dear santa #christmas #history #children #kids

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jeeyuns · 15 days ago

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walk with me y'all: chim sees how much buck's sad sack state improves each time he babysits or does activities with jee (because she's obviously made up of the BEST parts of a buckley and a han, be SO forreal) and casually schedules for buck to come over on friday for the newly minted 'han household holiday hullabaloo'

wherein the hans and one mopey buck get to snacking on appropriately-themed holiday food while watching 'the santa clause'. jee falls asleep before the next movie on the meticulous list chimney put together begins: 'love actually'. he gets a side eye from BOTH maddie and buck for slightly different reasons but then maddie gets up to quickly put jee to bed (this is apparently buck's first time watching the movie, even though it's tommy's fa-)

and buck is looking slightly less dour while bill nighy keeps flubbing 'christmas is all around'. he gets pulled into the charm of the 10 different plotlines surrounding heartbreak and wonder around love and christmas. around the 7th time chimney surreptitiously glances over, buck has a faintly whimsical look on his face while writer jamie stiffly learns portuguese in the crowded night languages class and tries to hide his smile. he MAY be a little too transparent because maddie nudges him hard with her toes

the patented hyperfocused state that chim has seen buck get into at times over the years gradually seeps in in the way his posture changes and his eyes track the grand gestures playing out on screen over the swell of the sweeping score. the popcorn bowl in his lap has been neglected for the past 12 minutes and chimney ALMOST wants to trade it for jee's tiny sparkly princess clipboard just to see if buck will start taking down the notes he so obviously has running rampant through his brain

chimney holds back a full-belly, knee slapping laugh until after buck goes through the song and dance of leaving, trying and failing to hide just how unfocused on the present he is, thoughts thousands of miles and 20-odd years away with the characters from the movie. he tells buck to text them when he's home and turns around to maddie's long-suffering eye roll and affectionate kiss on the nose before she sashays off to her own nighttime routine

he waits until AFTER he's cleaned up the living room and kitchen after their weekly movie night (he has restraint!) to open up the text thread he has with tommy. right below the read receipt to his "You called him Buck!?" he writes:

"I'm telling you this because I'm one of your long-term friends who knows you try to hide how surprises can make you feel uncomfortable no matter how much you try to hide how grateful you are of the act.

Buck is probably going to awkwardly Andrew Lincoln you Keira Knightley christmas carolers style OR earnestly Colin Firth you Portuguese cafe style. You're welcome and now you owe me double-time for saving your life.

'Just in cases' xoxo"

#911 meta #bucktommy #911 #teenie.txt #bucktommy fic

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femmehysteria · 11 months ago

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I'm doing a series of "Best Character Named X" polls where all the characters have the same first name but are from completely different media, feel free to send in name/charcacter suggestions, I'm posting one poll a day, check my pinned post for active polls

#best character named x #poll #game #scott summers #scott mccall #scott calvin #scott pilgrim #scot cavendish #scott tracy #x men #teen wolf #the santa clause #scott pilgrim vs the world #locke and key #thunderbirds

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danikamariewrites · 11 months ago

Note

Could I possibly request a Modern! Rhys x reader decorating for the holidays with their daughter and doing little holiday traditions like building gingerbread houses, making cookies for Santa, or going to see Christmas lights? Their daughter coming downstairs cause she heard “Santa” and she sees “Santa” kissing her mommy🤭

In my head, whether it’s a modern au or the canon universe, Rhys absolutely LOVES the winter holidays and will gladly go all out for those.

Holiday Preparations

Modern!Rhys x reader

A/n: I also think Rhys loves the winter holidays (especially since Feyre’s bday is solstice) and loves to make them special

Warnings: none

December 1st Rhys is pulling the decorations out of the attic and playing Christmas music

He’s always the one to get the family in the holiday spirit

While you and Rhys handle the bigger decorations you guys let Isla put out the smaller ones

Isla loves hanging the stockings herself, it’s so cute how proud of herself she is. Rhys lifts her so she can reach the hooks on the mantle and when he puts her down she stands back with her little hands on her hips smiling, “wow, good job everyone.”

Tree shopping is the last big thing to do

Rhys always gives Isla a piggyback ride as you look at trees

When you find your perfect tree Isla gets so excited. Rhys makes sure he picks her up so she can inspect every inch of it putting her on his shoulders last to make sure the top is perfect for the star

When it’s to to decorate You put the lights on while Rhys opens up the ornament boxes. Isla has more ornaments than the two of you combined

You and Rhys happily hand them over to your baby girl who loves each and every one of them

When it’s time for the Star Rhys puts Isla on his shoulders and you hand it to her

Sometimes you send Rhys and Isla out for new decor and baking stuff or for small gifts for friends and family throughout the month

Rhys bought a santa hat for him and an elf hat for her for running errands

She always giggles when Rhys puts the hat on her head and says, “let’s go little elf! Mrs. Clause needs stuff to make Christmas happen.”

Making gingerbread houses is the second most important tradition after decorating the tree

Isla loves sticking any and all candy she can on hers while you and Rhys compete to see who can make the better house

Decorating sugar cookies for Santa is another family favorite

“Not too much frosting, Santa doesn’t like them too sweet.” You roll your eyes at him since he’s doing this for his own good

You like baking and keeping the house smelling Christmasy all month. You love making sure there’s a Christmas treat for your family everyday

On the weekends you take Isla to do different holiday activities like looking at the lights, ice skating, and her favorite, the Christmas village and seeing Santa

You and Rhys help her write her letter and list (mainly so you guys know what she wants without having to decipher her handwriting)

You and Rhys wrap gifts while Isla is asleep and enjoy a few glasses of wine

The few glasses of wine lead to you two making out under mistletoe that Rhys holds above your head

Movie night on Christmas Eve is always a must. And you guys have matching Christmas PJs. You each pick one movie and you have to watch it. This year Rhys picked the newer version of the Grinch, you picked Home Alone, and Isla picked Beauty and the Beast the Enchanted Christmas (top tier movie go watch it)

When you two tell Isla it’s time for bed she insists on staying up to catch Santa, “No! I need to see him and ask him what he wants for Christmas!” “That’s very nice of you sweetie, but santa has so many houses to get to. Maybe when you’re older.”

She begrudgingly lets you and Rhys tuck her in

The next morning when she comes down stairs the look on her face is priceless! Rhys hugs you at the sight of your daughters excitement

“Merry Christmas, darling.” He whispers as Isla starts picking out gifts to open. “Merry Christmas my love.”

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #rhysand fanfic #rhysand headcanon #rhysand headcanons #rhysand x reader #rhysand imagine #acotar rhysand #rhysand acotar #rhysand #rhysand x you fluff #rhysand x reader fluff #rhysand x you

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lizaluvsthis · 11 months ago

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SPOILER FOR THE NEW EPISODE! CHRISTMAS WARS! SCROLL OUT IF YOU HAVENT WATCHED IT YET!!!!

"Hey Liz how'd that new christmas episo-"

*ME BREATHING HEAVILY*

Consider on Smg3 having a good point for hosting his own party (why cant he just throw a party with the dead memes? Like invite them in his cafe right aw-) thats exactly why. Dead memes cant re-enter the living realm. (Also the reason what happened during the 10th year anniversary episode because we DONT want that mess again?

So instead of dead memes he literally chose to host it WITH his new friends this time. Smg4's crew.

"But why tho? Didn't he hated them?" YES. but at the same time. Please dont forget his mere messages during IGBP on the line he says "But I've met your friends man..." again. Ask me WHY theres another reason he moved in next to four's castle?

(He doesn't want to feel alone again not only four was the reason but his friends too)

Okay but when after the castle and three's coffee shop got burned down by santa clause, where do you see that bright explanation from the crew.

AND LITERALLY. SMG3 IS ON TSUNDERE MODE ACTIVATION WHERE HE- BLUSHED- I mean its okay- its totally fine its perfectly normal.

Not for three. He never celebrated christmas in the early 2020 not even after the arc but four was kind enough to invite three in the recent years to make him have to experience whats special about it.

But three was too embarrassed from four's crew because they've shown alot of kindness towards him that he'd never experienced at all and this was his first time hearing it all out on them.

After he says "f-friends?!" He continues on playing "I'd rather die than have you guys as friends"

Which also meant he did. Almost. Die. Saving four.

Did you notice smg4 in this scene? Did you see the way he looked at three? Did you SEE how he giggled and laughed just by seeing his expression?

Heart tingles you know? And this IS also the first time he's done that.

Wait for it...

WAIT FOR IT...

WOW SMG4 THAT BACK HOLD AT THREE WAS SUPER SMOOTH I'M OBVIOUSLY BLIND TO MYSELF THAT I CANT "SEE" WITH MY OWN EYES.

And NOT ONLY THAT- EVERYONE'S REACTION WERE THE SAME PLACE EXCEPT WHO? MARIO.

WHO'S MOUTH IS OPEN AND MAKING A HAPPY EXPRESSION (that also means... HE HAD JUST WITNESSED FOUR BEING A F-KING FRUIT AGAIN-) (MARIO BEING A REAL SMG34 SHIPPER IS SO REAL)

Not only was it delicious- Three too was smiling at four, supporting his idea and not even LEAVING by his side. (Like have you noticed right after both of their places got destroyed- these two completely HAVE NEVER SEPARATED AND STUCK CLOSE TOGETHER?)

This also provens he's on the right role after all. His character development did improve his changing around his friends even after 2020th - 2022nd

Who knows that maybe four's crew knew that three wasn't so bad after all? That he was just in need of friends because he'd been so alone from time to time?

Still. He smiles. Not just for the holiday spirit, but to his new friends, and four to have on. (Mention of mario makes turkey for upcoming xmas episode four convinced EVERYONE from the crew including three, BUT HE NEVER LEFT BY HIS SIDE. Literally the moon is stuck with the sun)

Four and three? They both contacted atleast EVERYONE from town they know. (Even three never considered belle, whimpu, or the so called fake-other-versions of theirs who became his crew during 2020th wotfi he still has a heart to consider them all as being in part of his life.)

We never get a mistletoe scene sadly but we had a precious smg34 collection here...

Even after this hand taking, Three and Four looked at eachother together before they start to sway and celebrate the christmas holiday.

"Liz it's just two of them looking whats so important from that?"

You dont see these fruits being like that often, so its a very rare one in the new episodes. (Considered again. Three has gone soft. TOO soft for being with four's crew and being with... smg4...)

He wasnt even angry or done with this bs he still had that christmas spirit and all that matters is celebrating it with four and his other new friends.

OKAY THERE IM DONE I'M EVEN GONNA BE MORE ILL-

*insert audio losing pulse*

#smg34 #lizaluv #smg4 #smg3 #smg4 smg3 #mario #smg43 #smg7

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amethyst-draws09 · 10 months ago

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Head cannons for catnap!

Catnap has met sans from undertale before

He trips over his own tail sometimes because he’s silly like that

He dresses up as Santa clause on Christmas for the kids

He is just ungodly strong. He deadlifts boulders in his free time.

He uses his tail as a lasso. Mostly to catch his friends when they run from him

He sleeps in a box wherever he sleeps. Even if there’s the most comfy bed ever next to him

He sneaks up on dog-day during the night and scares the living shit out of him (this has caused dogday to basically play fnaf 4 irl during the night)

Dog-day is his bestest and most trusted friend

One time catnap caught dog-day stealing food off him, so he attached dog day to a big ballon and sent him off to the sky

He’s a coffee addict

He’s a beast at hide and seek

Catnap will sometimes just appear out of nowhere and then just despawn 2 seconds later

He is deathly scared of cucumbers and will actively hide from them. Hoppy knows this and pranks him all the time

He has a plushie of every smiling critter and he cuddles with them at night. (Bobby bearhug saw this and always teases him about it)

And finally at sleepovers he’s always the first one to fall asleep. Always

#dogday #smiling critters #catnap #poppy playtime #ask #ask me anything #bobby bearhug #hoppy hopscotch #text

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writingduhh · 1 year ago

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hear me out ok pookie

Jshlatt is like so big on his cats like they are his children fr. AND ESPECIALLY DURING CHRISTMAS HES EVEN WORSE.

Dragging y/n to get family Christmas photos done with matching sweaters

making the cats Christmas activities

wrapping them gifts and making sure they are in the other room so they can’t “peak”

making those salt dough ornaments with their paws each year because “honey look at them our babies are growing up 🥺🥺🥺”

he so soft I love him

OMH BABE YES HE SO WOULD 😭😭😭

▷ He’d definitely send out Christmas cards with a picture of you two (and the cats) in sweaters.

▷ I bet he’d take you and the cats to go get your picture taken with Santa clause….

▷ He hangs four stockings over the fireplace. You, Him, Jambo, and {REDACTED}

▷ Buying the cats their own “Christmas Tree.” Covered in cat toys … maybe catnip

▷ He buys you a few gifts, saying they’re from “The cats.” Or “The kids.”

▷ Cuddling up in front of the TV every night as he insists on showing the cats the Christmas ‘Classics’

▷ Has pictures of the cats hanging up on the tree

▷ Shopping for the cats just as if they were your kids.

"Y/n, look at this! Don't you think {REDACTED} would love this?" Schlatt asks, holding up a small toy deer and giving it a gentle squeeze, eliciting a soft squeak.

Smiling, you push the already half-full cart towards him.

"Oh, he'd absolutely love that," you agree, getting a closer look at the adorable stuffed toy.

“In the cart it goes.” He remarks, tossing it onto the ever growing pile of cat toys.

“Now, what do you say we move our way to the second isle.” He teases sneaking an arm around your waist as you walk.

#chuckle sandwich #chuckle sammy #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt hcs #jschlatt #hc #jschlatt imagines #jschlatt fluff #jschlatt x you #jschlatt imagine #schlatt hcs #schlatt x you #schlatt imagine #schlatt x reader #big guy

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imagine-that · 11 months ago

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I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause

One-shot #57 - Christmas cheer edition

Summary: Loki does absolutely everything to please you and your daughter. But is he willing to be holly and jolly?

Pairing: Loki Friggason x female!mom!reader

Warnings: obviously it is a Christmas themed read so if you are not interested in that, this piece is not for you. It also has mentions of children so if that is a sensitive topic, please be warned

A/N: HIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!! Long time no see!!!!! I’m very excited to be able to post this as I have not had inspiration to write again in such a long time. This is a favourite fic of mine and it only took 2 nights to write!!! As mentioned, it includes you, but also your daughter! In this fic there is no (your daughters name), the daughter is named Frigga (😇🥺). I just hope you enjoy it, and happy holidays!!!!!

"Love... this is ridiculous." Your husband says, staring down the red garments in his hands, holding it so far away from himself that it looks as though it had personally slapped him or something.

"Darling, you know Frigga asked for it. And did you see the look on her sweet little face when she did? She BEGGED to stay up late enough to catch him in the act Loki dearest. Aren't you happy she's picked up your knack for mischief?" You reply, imitating the look your daughter had in her eyes as she announced her goals for the night.

He groans, shoving his face into the Santa suit you had selected off Amazon.

"Why could we not have asked Thor to do this? He is a big oaf, just like this Santa Clause you mortals love so much. it would perfectly fit his loud and obnoxious tendencies." He offers, waggling his eyebrows to emphasize how much he likes that idea.

You stifle a giggle, putting down the stockings you were about to carefully hang 'by the chimney with care'.

"THAT, my dear husband, is because you would have thrown a fit if she dared to be more excited by her uncle than you." You argue, waggling your eyebrows right back at him, earning a sigh of dramatic despair.

Being a huge holiday fanatic, you were more than thrilled when Loki began very actively joining in on your Christmas festivities over the years, but especially once your daughter had arrived four years ago. She was his little princess, and whatever she liked, he liked.

Which of course, automatically meant that when she begged and begged to see Santa Clause do his job, your loving husband and her devoted father could never say no to such a request.

"You promised your princess a Santa Clause viewing love. Are you really going to let her down, or hand the task off to Thor like its a chore?" You joke, clutching your imaginary pearls at the idea.

He puts the Santa suit off to the side, giving you a devilish smile before tackling you into the bed, erupting you into a fit of giggles again.

"That, my loving wife, is never going to happen and you know it, do you not my little dove?" He growls lightly in your ear, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

You wrestle around, trying to release yourself from the gods hold, failing to do anything more than laugh.

"Alright, alright, I know you wouldn't dare. Please release me." You ask extra sweetly. He ponders for a moment, tilting his head every which way, earning an eyeroll from you. Finally, he gently lets you go, his fingertips coolly travelling down your hips before pulling away.

With a sound of annoyance and a look you only get when he is "forced" to watch any of the reality tv shows he so often pretends to loath, he stands and starts to unbutton his crisp white shirt, immediately starting to change into the soft red suit. You stare up as he puts on the padding to make him appear holly and jolly, your eyes filling with more admiration than ever before.

As Loki uses his magic to fake a head of silver hair and a bushy beard, you clap your hands together with glee.

"Honey she is going to adore this! And she will have no idea that it's her daddy all along." You squeal, already picturing the look of excitement you knew would be all over your daughters face once she thinks she's caught Santa Clause.

He grins just as big, the beard just barely hiding it. "Well, then this ridiculous look must have some real worth." He announces, pulling on the hat and letting out a loud "Ho Ho Ho" you never thought you'd hear from your husbands mouth.

---------------------------------------------------------

"Frigga" You hum, just barely shaking your daughter awake. Her hair, a curly jet black replica to her fathers, is wrapped in two braids, hanging above her head like an angelic halo perfectly fitting of her features.

"baby girl." You try gently, brushing stray hairs behind her ear. She lets out a groan of protest, rolling over to her side. You sigh, caving to your own mischievous side and yanking the blankets off of her legs.

"Momma." She whines, looking back over to you with a dark glare.

"I'm sorry I woke you up like this sweetheart but there's something downstairs you just have to see!" You whisper excitedly, stroking her back until her scowl dissipates to a look of curiosity.

The small child carefully sits up, grabbing out to hold your hand as she gets out of the bed.

"Is it christmas morning momma?" She asks sweetly, her eyes lighting up happily.

You chuckle before replying, pulling her up into your arms. "No not yet my girl, but it is still very exciting. Lets go see." You say, kissing her lightly on the forehead as you move out of the room.

"Where's daddy? He can't miss the excitement!" Frigga declares, making you laugh even louder.

"Papa went to uncle Thor's to bring their christmas gifts from us. That way we can all open them together tomorrow afternoon darling." You explain, her lips going to an o shape as she nods in understanding.

Together the two of you walk quietly down the stairs, into the hallway. You carefully stop at the bottom, poking your head around the corner to see a bored looking red covered figure by the fireplace. You give him a look, letting him know to jolly up.

"Now Frigga, you said you wanted to catch Santa delivering this year yes?" You whisper, glancing at her as she nods frantically. "Well in order to see him, we have to be super duper quiet and only watch ok? We don't want Santa to get scared and leave with all of our gifts." You instruct, and she agrees excitedly, putting a chubby finger to her lips.

You place her down on the floor, creeping around the corner just enough to see the tree and sitting on the floor, legs crossed. Gently you pull your daughter down with you, cradling her in your arms.

She watches in awe as the fireplace quickly sheds ash, a chubby figure appearing at the bottom. He crosses the room to where she left a plate of perfectly iced cookies the two of you had made the morning prior, gulping down all of the milk and letting out the ho ho ho you now knew he could.

"I can't believe papa is missing this." She murmurs, more to herself than to you. You stifle a giggle as santa-husband pulls all of the delicately wrapped gifts he had almost ruined before you stepped in out of the Santa bag on his back.

Your daughter is practically bouncing out of your lap, her excitement hardly contained. Your husband turns his head ever so slightly, only in real view to you, and sends a wink your way, making you wonder how you ever got so lucky. He fills every stocking, shovels down all of the cookies and leaves the sweet letter he wrote as santa for frigga on the counter. He snatches up the carrots and celery for the reindeer and lets out another merry christmas and ho ho ho before flying right back up the chimney.

"We gotta go watch him leave mama!!!" she begs as she runs to her coat hook anyway.

You simply smile and nod, bringing her outside again and pointing to the sleigh illusioned onto the roof.

Before she can ask any questions or say anything about the encounter, Santa is on his way to the next house. She instead lays her head lazily on your chest, hugging you tightly to her.

“Momma, do you think other kids will catch Santa?” She asks shyly, a sound of uncertainty in her voice.

“My darling, I think that they will try. But I don’t believe they will succeed as well as we have.” You promise, rocking her back and forth as you habitually did since she was a baby.

She nods, assured by your words and starts to shut her eyes, the late evening too much for her to bear any longer. She lets out a little yawn, and you plant one more long kiss in the middle of her forehead before bringing her inside, laying her down in her bed and saying a quick I love you before sneaking out the door and shutting it halfway behind you.

“So, was this Santa clause as exciting as our princess imagined?” A deep, calming voice asks suddenly from behind you, cause you to jump a little bit. He chuckles, pulling you into his chest from behind and planting a kiss on top of your head. You supposed he was where you got that from, passing it right down to little Frigga.

“She was enchanted my love. You were a hit. And don’t think I didn’t notice Santa wink at mom. Am I correct in assuming he has maybe a little crush?” You tease, turning and starting to pull him in closer by the collar of the Santa suit. He grins wide, holding you by your hips.

“Why yes, Santa thought mom was positively radiant. I must agree with him.” He purrs, finally pulling you all the way in and planting his lips hungrily on yours, earning a smile as you kiss him right back.

You two stand in the dimly lit hall, pressed together for what feels like an eternity, a little sliver of time kept just for you and him.

“This is her best Christmas yet thanks to you love.” You smile, stroking your thumb over Lokis jawline.

“Ah but if it were not for you my dear, we would not have her and I would not have my two brightest sunshines, so really you are the one who gave both of us the best Christmas ever.” He corrects matter of factly, earning a deep blush on your cheeks and an eye roll on top of it.

You quietly pull away, turning him around towards your bedroom door and giving a light push.

“Now you Mr, go and change into something less suitable of St Nick and more fitting for the king of mischief and go give your daughter a kiss good night.” You order, getting an eye roll of your own in return.

He follows orders, changing into the Christmas pyjamas you picked out for him, a pair in emerald green with gold embroidery of his initials. “I’ll be in in a moment my love, I promise.” He says, pecking you on the lips and making his way to her room.

You tiptoe behind, your reindeer slippers making you all the more stealthy, and carefully peek between the door crack, watching your husband admire your daughter before kissing her lightly on the cheek, silently thanking the universe and fate for giving you the most perfect Christmas gift of all.

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me-uglypretty · 2 years ago

Text

believe me

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Reader

Summary: Leigh finds herself enjoying a festive night with someone than being alone, where believing doesn’t feel like false tale of hope.

Warning: (18+), fluff | 5k words

| winter things | Notify | Navigation |

A festive holiday bloom cheers around, thrusting shades of Christmas merriments unto faces and places, pestering some into spitting verses that wakes their spirits than leave them in their own tranquillity. Jiggle bells chimes piercingly, overplayed music made jaded by radios and people striving in their festive cheers.

And Leigh Shaw, who ironically, doesn’t hate the holiday, but rather preferred the tranquillity aspect of it.

The fragments where she was left alone in her own space, without anyone ushering her into sampling Christmas cookies or festive themed perfumes, without her mother urging her to try on another ugly sweater while her sister slips pass easily with an excuse of work, without pretending that she wasn’t still dodging the idea of Christmas after the last was spend without him, and another year marks that loneliness in her chest.

Though, she had moved on—but festive seasons left her in an indistinguishable state.

Despite that, she had accepted Drew’s invitation for his annual white elephant party. Her friend insisted her attendance as compulsory which left her scowling at the small Christmas themed paper bag that held a large scented candle.

It most definitely wasn’t taken from her mother’s vast collection of candles.

Thus, she found an escape in the kitchen. Hope bubbling in her chest that peace would remain in her own vacant space, and she could for few hours, ignore her required attendance for Drew’s party.

“Honey, can you grab those papers for me?” her mother’s voice resonates from somewhere in the house.

Leigh’s eyes darts around the kitchen and fell upon the stack of papers. “Are you leaving now?” she asked, already taking the steps ahead to take those papers to her mother.

Amy appeared by the kitchen entrance with a large beige tote bag hanging from her shoulder. “Yes, those children have long wishes for Santa Clause this year.”

While she was wallowing in her own pity, her mother had volunteer at a Christmas event made for an orphanage which became a reoccurrence deed after her parents’ divorce.

“And who’s breaking the news to them that Santa isn’t real?” her nose scrunches at that.

Amy crossed her arms with an offended look on her face at the supposed dreadful words of her daughter. “Maybe you could write a letter to Santa to help with that attitude.”

Thus, her mother snatched the stack of papers from her with a victorious smile plastered on her face at her daughter’s shocked face. Leigh doesn’t budge from where she stood, staring at her mother’s form leaving their shared house.

In the silence of her home, Leigh contemplated the idea. Those youthful Christmas evenings which were pleasant and calm. She was seven then, always rousing in anticipation at every sound of bells, aiding herself into being good as naughty children aren’t allowed to enjoy their gift. Though, the spark of mischief does flutter about.

Amy conceived the idea of writing to Jolly Saint Nick as a fun activity for their family. Leigh was beyond trilled at that young age, unaware of fictional versus reality, and only relishing in sheer innocence.

Of course, the sparks of such glee faded after her parents’ separation.

“Oh, fuck it,” she expressed bitterly. The heavy stump of her feet reverberates throughout their typical American home’s agile wooden frame.

Leigh asserted herself an unpredicted task. The white paper she found on her work desk, a pen that was laid on the floor, and an old envelope with a strange yellow tinge. And there, in the comfort of her room, she sat by her desk, tongue peak at the edge of her mouth as she wrote with an undeniable fury in mind.

The letter was written with an imaginal speed, alternating between glaring out the window at someone’s hired Santa Claus, then at the messily laid items on her desk and settling on the piece of paper again. She knew exactly what she wanted to inform the jolly man, from what she had seen in the recent years to that of a folk tale not granting the worthiest wishes.

“Yeah, we’ll see what you think after this!” she was certain at that hour, he would read the fury filled confessional letter and would understand the utmost fury in her chest.

By the time she was slipping the letter inside the enveloped, and gluing it shut, her phone vibrates with a text. It diverted her sheer focus on the significant task which wakes a frown on her face, eyebrows furrowed, and lips pursed tightly.

Leigh was pained at every night glowing from faux light and the morning brighten by the sunrise, and atmosphere so optimistic, that she approached it as the worst symptom. But the envelope holding a letter to a fictional person, those were the seconds where she wasn’t in utter sorrow.

She persevered her clear avoidance for a second longer, then reluctantly checks her phone. A message indicating as a friendly reminder for the party in an hour. The reminder itself fuel annoyance from within, as she sighed, grumbled under her breath and pushed away the mess on her desk out of frustration.

Unbeknownst to her, the letter written in her own privacy and encompassed with a fiery anger, and perfectly folded in a stained yellow envelope, had miraculously fell into the Christmas themed paper bag which was untidily tossed on the floor. It daunts her silently for whatever truth it might carry or perhaps, a letter written in spirits of silliness than sheer hatred.

Leigh monotonous movement paid no mind to the fallen items nor the thought of ensuring her white elephant gift was in perfect condition. She wanted—needed the obscurity of a celebration to end before other requests for her labour were made.

The evening was essentially meant for relaxing, but here she was, mingling as her friend said, and meeting acquaintances to inform of her very much alive state. Despite the whispers observing her sadly, as though her mild happy mask might fall and they would expect to witness the bite of a widow.

Leigh couldn’t place herself in that head space. At least. not for that night. She was uncomfortable herself, and still, she vetted the best way to converse with others and hope the night ends sooner.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” the teasing voice of her friend appeared at her side, and a large arm fell over her shoulder. “I told you. It’ll be fun!”

She held herself from spewing filthy phrases at Drew. “Hmm, very nice. I’m loving the attention for this month’s widow, by the way.”

Drew muffled a laughter, his hand failing at this attempt as he releases the amused sound. “Oh god, Leigh, even death can’t stop your humour.”

“Because death doesn’t stop people from talking, Drew,” Leigh pointed out. “Anyway, when are we starting this? I have the house to myself and I would like some peace before chaos break loose.”

And with that—a loud voice echoes through the hall room, interrupting heaps of conversation, and those snacking to their stomach’s content.

“I’m sorry! Traffic was shit and I’m exhausted. I really need a drink and we can start this.”

In the blooming sound, mixes of cheers and greetings, Leigh’s attention was drawn to their recently arrived guest. There was a certain flair, appearing so out of breath and tired, but carrying the conversation around in such a tranquillity. She wasn’t aware of who had roused such attention, but she was curious to know why.

“Hey, you’re late again,” Drew exclaimed, and hauls Leigh to where their mysterious guest was chatting away. “I told you what time and look at you, arriving fashionably late.”

An excused smile traces the curves of your lips. “Traffic, Drew. It’s horrible and I don’t get how any of you haven’t lost your mind yet,” you explained, then your gaze fell upon those narrowed eyes, a chartreuse shade that seemingly drew your attention closer.

“Leigh, meet my business partner—”

You interrupted Drew as your hand extended coyly in greeting, followed by, “Hi Leigh, I’m Y/n.”

There seemed to be a decided difference between you and Leigh, only kept obvious as she stared at your hand, then meet the gaze of her friend and nodded her head.

“Are we starting this?”

Drew doesn’t prolong the greeting. He understood from very early on that her friend’s patience wasn’t something to tease. Instead, he smoothly led his friend to the empty space on the couch. The party attendees crowd around the same area, eagerly awaiting to exchange their gifts with another.

Leigh situated herself among festive cheers. The overplayed Christmas songs in the background and shameless voices singing off-key, entirely buzzing from the holiday that she wanted to barf in her absolute angst phase.

An announced was made in commence of white elephant. The brief explanation consisted of;

“On this beautiful evening, we are gathered here together. To share our warm embrace, our love and our appreciate. We have our special gifts under the tree. My handsome husband would pass the hat filled with number chits, so everyone picks one. Just one, don’t get greedy! Once that’s done, we’ll start calling out the numbers and you would get your amazing white elephant gift.”

Murmurs around enlightened her, the transparency of those only arousing for gifts more than the celebration of being together. It irks her as they chatted about a thousand different topics, incidents that had occurred which surely wake a glance at her direction, then the hope for those outside to have an equally pleasant Christmas.

After the hat had arrived at her side of the wide maroon couch which neither strangers nor acquittances decided on sitting beside her, only Drew and his husband weren’t treating her like an outcast—she forced a smile, picking a number chit out, and crossing her arms on her lap as they continued.

On the opposite, beneath the pale amber shine from a lamp, you were seated with an amused smile and waiting—then, you met her gaze, the sight of your smiling face made her shift her gaze to the table. Her chest felt unnerving under your gaze, like were people truly that drawn to your charm and were you truly thrilled by such obscurity?

Leigh remained with her riveted facade as the activity continued, regarding the knowing feeling of your firm gaze. She resumed a placid expression on her face while a gloomy calm whirl from within. She nodded her head when her number was announced, muttering her thanks, and cradling her square shaped gift.

Just few more minutes, she had reminded herself with the flickering hope that her freedom would be granted soon enough. And she wouldn’t have to contemplate you for whatever reasons she couldn’t rationalise nor be known to.

So, she waited, burrowing her mind into the miniature decorations on the table, some grazed by her fingers in sheer interest. At some point, she had completely redrawn herself from the happening around, and absentmindedly picked at the wrapping paper layered over her gift.

“And number 22! Oh look, it’s our late comer.”

The laughter that erupts, nudged Leigh’s attention ahead and where her gaze fell upon you. An apologetic expression displayed on your face as you muttered several excuses before receiving your gift. Unlike the rest, voices were ushering you into opening your gift with the reasoning of your recent arrival in town.

The small gift that was handed to you—in what miraculous way—was the same brilliantly considered gift by Leigh. The unmissable Christmas themed paper bag that she could perceived among cluster of people, as it was the same paper bag gifted to her by her estranged father, two years back.

It wasn’t anything—and yet, she was anxious. Her eyes widening by seconds that pass, and her gaze fixed on you. The motion of your hand removing the extra crumpled coloured papers inside, how your fingers twitches and the subtle reaction on your face at what you saw. It was confusion at first, till a grin appeared heartily.

A white candle, it was short but wide in size, entirely held by your hand as the other grips the Christmas themed paper bag. It was considered favourable in your gleaming eyes, inspecting it, and sniffing the scent with a satisfied smile.

Among the scene of your contented appearance and her face pulling in a smile, the murmurs wake in disdain sounds. Questions rose of the cost, sneering judgment at the gifted object, and condemning eyes assessing for the culprit on their cheap gift.

Their criticism had only ceased by the sound of your whistle, mockingly at those convicting faces. “A candle,” you muttered, tilting the supposedly offending object in your hand. “It’s funny. I was considering buying one of this, but I was quite busy and now…” you motioned toward the candle, “I have this.”

It was faint, the jiggle melodies drifting in the air and the grumbles of some. Rude, she heard one said. Someone else muttered, boring.

“I’m reading the room and it’s telling me,” you paused, fluttering your eyes for affect before staring absently at the Christmas tree. “It’s telling me that some people love showing off which is weird…isn’t Christmas about being grateful with what you have? Or I’m missing the whole point.”

A blanket of silence made your statement more thrilling, at least, for the captivated mind of Leigh. Perhaps, she wasn’t regretting the idea of attending her friend’s Christmas party. If drama was promised among self-praised and rich brats, she would had happily skipped her way into the party.

You were stunning at that, alluring them into your trajectory and waking the worse of their nightmares. To be called out in front of many, and your triumphant smile stirred a fuming crowd.

“Okay! We all love candles! Don’t we just love them? Let’s move on!” Drew exclaimed, diverting the attention from your outburst and hollering for his husband to announce the next number.

The attention on your form declined as the next number was revealed. Leigh watches warily as you slipped out from their mind and away from the room, without attracting the slightest attention. It propelled her curiosity, blooming furiously to know who and why you had reacted so differently than most, and why she was persuaded into needing to know you.

Leigh stood up with impatience. If the night was to end, it must end by her own preference. By that, the curiosity of which she followed, wide steps and poised body. Her eyes observantly tracked your whereabouts.

It seemed impractical. “I just have to thank this kind person for appreciating a scented candle,” she spoke to herself, the feeble attempt of steering away from her true intention in replace for deception.

A thud from a closed door, directed her towards the sound. Her wanted exit, and where you lingered outside, ignoring the cold wind and clutching the Christmas themed paper bag in your hand. An additional jacket was draped over your shoulder. You were making a desired exit from the party, the same way she desired.

Leigh announced her presence, the same way she would when she leaves them stunned.

“Hey, you,” she uttered with utmost irritation. “What— hey, why are you laughing?”

Leigh furrowed her eyebrows and her mouth gaped, she looked perplexed at the laughter that left your mouth. It does nothing, but made her stomach uneasy, dotting down the unfamiliar sensation in her chest as she approached you. Her ardent gaze fixed on you and gift you clutched to your chest, and the shake of your head, as if, you had changed your mind over something.

“I’m assuming you want this back?” you inquired, without irritation laced in your tone, but something softer and kind. A pointed gaze fixed on the Christmas themed paper bag.

She appeared surprised at your revelation. “How did you know?

“I have my ways,” you teased, straightforwardly extending your hand towards her direction. “Nice to meet you. I’m a big fan of your articles,” you praised her, then squinting your eyes, “You’re not wearing that magical eyeliner, are you?”

This wasn’t the expected conversation she formed in her head. It brooded her mind to what she assumed and what made her need to meet you. While the soft humming of a familiar Christmas song wobbles her heart, the muscle of your throat bobs with that, and it feels like a stroke of youth, the innocence and untainted joy.

There’s a certain spark in your posture, seemingly free from the world’s burden, and vibrant, so alive than the image of herself, reflected on a foggy mirror. And you smiled, mindful to her attentive eyes.

Leigh’s eyes dart the width of your face and hindered on your mouth, where your lips move, talking to her of something she hasn’t registered in her mind. “What are you?” she asked, taking another step closer and clasping your hand in hers.

It's strange—the warmth of your palm, the cold that seeps at the tips of your fingers, the softness of your skin, and the lines in between where she felt a little roughness.

You squeezed her hand, a split second, your gaze fell on linked hands before meeting her ardent eyes and drawing your hand back. “Drew’s business partner for his new gay bar or something, he hasn’t decided yet. So, eyeliner?”

It's even stranger, more so, when her lips curves with smile and her cheeks felt the unfamiliar stretch of skin. “Drew is always changing. He’s very indecisive,” she shared, her body relaxing as the hand that touched yours, pressed on her arm, a palpable itch surfaced. It’s nothing, she convinced herself in blunt falsehood.

Opposite her, contemplation rouse in your mind. “Want to get out of here? I think I saw a hot chocolate booth somewhere down the street,” you spoke with delight in your voice. “We don’t have to, but I think we could use something more exciting than this,” and you vaguely gestured towards where the sound of cheers could be heard.

Leigh played an indifference facade at the offer. “Sure, whatever,” she shrugged.

When the offer was accepted, you grinned, then shake your head, like a silent joke was made and you knew it better than her. But it doesn’t irritate her as most do, as it only increased her curiosity, and she undoubtedly followed your exit from the party she dreaded.

The night breathes a whiff of brilliance and a frosty touch which left throats drought, and thirsty for something warm. Leigh felt that dryness spread from her mouth to throat, and her hands, one holding the gift while the other grasped by the wind. Silence was conveyed between two with something in between, the impulse to speak and the warning to wait.

As soon as the hot chocolate booth appeared in your line of sight, the flair of excitement which she perceived as endearing, appeared with a thumb pointed at said direction while the distinguish warmth latched to her hand, made her motionless. Leigh doesn’t comprehend the touch of your hand over hers, neither did your consciousness reminded you the grasps of strangers.

The childlike manner in which you dragged her towards the booth, establishing a wordy thought of not missing out on something warm, and the soft chuckles that send waves of a new song to her heart.

An elderly couple greeted their new customers. The clasps of hands tighten as the order was made with clear description for the most favourable cup of chocolate drink. Neither Leigh or you, had acknowledged the differences in the night air. Not after ordering and paying while still holding a stranger’s hand, not after sharing a brief conversation about the weather, and only after a comment passed jovial faces, did she realise the unknown, and similarly, so did you.

“Aren’t they a lovely couple?” one voice claimed, sharing years of wisdom in an elderly tone, and the other returned with a soft hum. “Merry Christmas, and we hope you have many more Christmas together.”

The faithful event diverted Leigh’s gaze from the steaming cups to where her hand was linked with yours, the firm touch of something so different, the same that lifts the air she breathes, and upwards where a bemused expression settled on your face. Upon noticing her eyes gazing directly at yours, almost instantly, your hand fell from hers and an obligatory distance was made between two.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, embarrassment spread your cheeks with warmth. “Got a little carried away. You know, hot chocolate,” you nodded your head towards the brown recyclable cups on the counter, before taking one of them in the same hand that once held hers.

Leigh mirrored your action, grasping the cup with her free hand and taking a short sip. She smacks her mouth, tasting the sweetness that tickles her tastebuds, and played on her known unbothered facade. To further push her narrative, she waves her hand with the gift, dismissing the mistake, and nudged her head towards a vacant bench.

However, she found herself deeply invested in your bashful appearance, a vast difference than the peak confidence that woke annoyance within some. Your round eyes, curious and warm, gazed at everything that wasn’t remotely entertaining, while maintaining a clear distance and avoiding eye contact.

“So, you’re new here?” Leigh questioned, adjusting her body to the wooden bench, as you sat contentedly and take mouthful sips of your drink.

Your eyebrows knitted, “Is it obvious?” and the cup was set aside. “Well, I’ve been around,” you briefly explained before crossing your legs on the bench and turning to face her.

Leigh followed your movement, both sitting crossed legs on the bench and facing the other. A smile drew on her face at your antics. The anguish that enveloped her, cease to exist in that hour. It’s almost charming, she thought. The way words flew from your mouth in haste and settled in a heartily laughter, the kind that made her chest feel contented. Despite the look of disbelief on her face.

“Hmm, you’re definitely going to be the talk for weeks,” she enlightened, wiggling her eyebrows teasingly.

You winced at the reminder. “God, what was I thinking?” you murmured, shaking your head.

At the same time, two phares caught between two voices; you weren’t and I wasn’t.

It made Leigh amused. “You’re so cancelled,” she drew out each word slowly, and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I don’t care,” you shrugged, gaze lingering on her mouth then meeting her eyes. “Plus, I got a candle, a delicious cup of hot chocolate, and a pretty girl by my side. What about them? They have nothing but their prestigious party and pretending. So, I’m obviously the winner here,” you declared, straightening your back as you did.

“Obviously,” Leigh repeated, purposely ignore the compliment that made her cheeks warm, and you, seemingly grasping her teasing tone, repeated the same word. “Obviously,” you said with a fond smile.

Leigh had barely, for the longest time, looked at someone in such captivation. But you were sat opposite her, beaming at the shared conversation, gazing into verdant eyes, so perfect beneath the pale street lights and flickers of faux amber light from stores close by.

“I want to show you something,” she uttered in a whim. “I think you would like it,” she added, the whispers of her heart claimed for more; I think I like you too.

The suggestion left you no room for denial as you nod your head, overcome with excitement for her outstretched hand and the warmth that resurfaced when skins touch.

“I have a feeling,” you whispered, a childlike tone in your voice as she leans closer. “It might snow in California,” the sheer optimism in your voice, almost made her melt.

She doesn’t stop the brief chuckle that fell from her mouth. “You’re silly,” she indicated, squeezing your hand in hers.

And it’s right—the warmth that tickles her chest and yours, the blow of wind that whispers of something so sweet, the glaze of a festive holiday they speak so heavenly of, everything felt right.

The ocean whooshed a song, each wave resonating peace, and tranquillity carried forward to those stood by the structure raised above body of cold water—where Leigh breathes the air of salty and sweet, where your shoulder touched hers, and the pier buzzed for the encounter of two strangers.

Leigh always preferred to remain composed, and exercise her irritation in the privacy of her mind, unless provoked beyond concealing her genuine emotion. However, the feelings that woke with her each morning, and slept with her through the night, seemed like a feeble memory in her mind.

Why did she dread the holidays? Why was she happily immersing herself in your company?

“Aren’t you curious?” the sudden question in the air, made her shift her attention to you. “What’s in that box?” you pointed at the square gift still in her grasps.

Leigh squints her eyes, “Really? Don’t you have your own gift?”

“Ouch, sorry,” you huffed, appearing offended, while the round of your eyes remained with a glint that made her smile wider.

It never happened, it shouldn’t, but she passed the gift to you. “Open it, and I’ll hold this,” she takes the Christmas themed paper bag from you, but the tug from your hand hindered her attempt.

“No, what if you take back my candle?” you asked. “I mean, that’s why you came after me, didn’t you?”

Leigh pondered the question prodding through her mind. There was a liable reason on her intention that led to her tracking you down, accepting your offer and allowing you to lead her away from the dreaded party, and here, where the moon shone an enchanting glow across the night sky and reflecting flawlessly on the ocean.

Leigh takes a step back, her hand spread out on the wooden railing. She felt the coarse texture of worn timber, and the pulsing of her heart through her ears, but she hears the song of a peaceful ocean, and she thinks, this has been the most bliss she had felt in months, years, and just too long.

“I guess, you’re interesting,” she spoke with significance. “A new face, someone who’s not expecting something from me, I don’t know— it happens. Heck, maybe it was something in the drink,” she added the latter part impulsively, fearing a more in-depth confession to leave her heart.

Silence emits between two, and she glance at you, still staring ahead into the endless ocean. There was a quirk of your lips, like a smile teasing to curl and for her heart to drop, entirely surrendering to whatever made her feel better.

“I’m trying to play it cool,” you voiced out, Leigh’s gift placed on the railing while yours daggles from your hand. “But it’s really hard,” you paused, shifting your gaze to meet her.

The penetrating gaze troubled Leigh, but she forced a smile on her face, and for what unknown reasons, she felt the ache of rejection and feared it.

You slanted into her space. “I think you’re pretty,” you whispered. “Maybe, just maybe, I asked Drew if you were coming and…that was the only reason I went to that tedious party,” you confessed shyly, still maintaining eye contact.

Leigh looked at you, as though, the most unbelievable information was thrown her way and she forced to believe it—not that her heart gnawing for those words to escape, for the lump in her throat to fade, for you to come closer and for her to feel you, like how she wishes to know you.

She doesn’t know why, but the first start of it, seemed like the best as she uttered, “Just maybe?” and your smile widens to your round cheeks. “Just maybe,” you replied.

When eyes stayed gazing into each other, heart beats raised to the wondrous occasion.

“And how I can trust you?” she questioned, moving inches closer that she could almost feel your breath fanning over her face.

Then, she felt the familiar and wanting warmth that spread her hand, the same place where your hand rest.

“Like I said, I’m a fan of your articles, and I saw you at the office few days ago, kind of changed my life,” you admitted, “But of course, I tried not being weird about it— and here we are,” you lifted the Christmas themed paper bag.

Leigh doesn’t believe in faith or the universe’s mystical ways of working things out as her mother profusely believed. But a plague of hope pushes her further into your realm.

“Hmm, is this some Christmas hallmark movie?” Leigh turns her hand over, pressing her palm firmly against yours.

“Believe me,” you whispered, a sense of promise laced with your voice, and she fell for it—she believed you. “This is so much better.”

The most unexpected trust merged with a stranger, with you.

She takes a deep breath, and exhaled her worries. Then, the swift grasps of her hand in yours, pulling your body closer. The next act, an impulse press of lips, and she feels your surprised gasp, before your mouth surrendered and you were kissing her back.

She found solace there, without isolation or running off to another temporary escape, and it was you, the stranger who held her close and pressed bodies together.

“A Christmas miracle,” you claimed, slightly winded by the shared kiss. “Or whatever they say.”

The night continued from a fond encounter, an even sweeter kiss, and the touch that left her aching for days to come. A memory made for Christmases to come, better than the last, and perhaps, more beautiful than those fading images in her mind.

“Yes,” Leigh murmured, her hand that found space on your cheek, caress the skin beneath her touch.

Your eyebrows furrowed, confusion swirling in your mind for the answer of an unknown question. “What?”

It doesn’t feel embarrassing or sad, as she answered, “I am wearing that eyeliner.”

Confusion dissolved in your feature as the corner of your lips curls, not knowing to smile or to laugh at the sudden respond.

“Well,” you paused, feeling something wet dribble on your face as you lifted your head to face the sky. “It’s snowing…in California?”

The bewildered expression on your face made her laugh wholeheartedly to the extent of feeling the almost unknown ache in her stomach from laughing so hard.

“It’s rain, silly,” she teased, and kissed you with the utmost desire to feel you, every part of you.

There, where rain fell upon two, an unexpected weather forecast and an unexpected shower of love, where mutual feelings manifest for years to come.

Leigh observes your expression at that hour, for the next, till the morning came, and she felt the same. A growing sense of comfort and love. It fuels her chest to bring you closer with a promise to allow her heart to feel everything she dreaded, and to believe in love again.

And Leigh Shaw, who ironically, despised the idea of celebrating such festive things—found herself wrapped in your arms the following year, her chest bubbling with laughter from a joke shared as her family joined. The festive occasion marked the first year of a beautiful relationship.

“Of course, Leigh had a huge crush on me,” you murmured, pressing a haste kiss on her head.

Leigh doesn’t shift from her comfortable position. “Of course,” she repeated, teasingly slapping your thigh as you purposely conveyed the partly false narrative of your first encounter. “Of course,” you said,and when eyes meet, the love that blooms were promised forevermore.

And where love was found, still unknown to them was a letter hidden inside a paper bag—unopen and forgotten.

But the universe, majestic and all, works in mysterious ways.

Bonus: Leigh Shaw’s letter to Santa Claus—

Dear Satan Santa Claus,

What the fuck is up man?

Everyone’s so excited for you. Don’t people go lay in the snow or go ice skating anymore? I know, I’m from California, but what’s the fuck is up that you have everyone under you spell? I literally saw a mom fight off another mom for the last Santa statue.

You’re fiction. But people believe you more than the news.

I think people believe in fiction more than reality. It’ll be easier to cope, right?

If I pretend that I’m not miserable, then I would be okay. Maybe I can pretend that my life isn’t cursed. My husband, still dead, can’t bring him back, but maybe, there’s this stupid love that latch on to me and I’m happy. Maybe it’ll snow and someone will hold my hand.

I just want to believe in something or someone without breaking my heart again.

New flash; I’m still a widow in my thirties, without a purpose in life.

Tell me, old man, why are people so confident that you would grant their wishes?

You didn’t give me my parents back for that shitty Christmas. A fiction tale, that’s you.

Honestly, fuck everyone for thinking that I shouldn’t feel shit during this time and that I should wake up feeling happy.

And fuck you, Santa Claus. I will never forget the worse Christmases that everyone swore will get better after you came at midnight.

I don’t want gifts. I want to be happy for once without feeling like something bad will happen.

Okay. I’m done.

Yours truly,

Leigh Shaw.

(p.s. i never wanted a ken doll, i wanted two barbies)

#winter things #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x you #leigh shaw imagine

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