#@gtafest

[danidfordangercreativestuff]

gtafest valentine's day gift 2024

hiya, @hanajoyishere (i can't tag your blog for some reason)! here's your valentine's day gift for @gtafest. glad to see i'm not the only one who enjoys what tommy and lance had going on in vice city lol. that back stab hurt badly oml. i hope you enjoy this short piece i wrote. fair warning, it includes some homophobia since even though i like the idea of tommy having a thing for lance, i also think he would struggle with denial and internalized homophobia in general.

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. One of the first people I met when I came into town, one of the first guys who I considered a true friend, stabbed me in the back. The prick had taken the sharpest knife he could find, brandished it, and shoved it right through my back, spurting blood everywhere.

As I stand there listening to Lance speaking belligerently and even with some cockiness, I can’t help but take note of his appearance. Ever since I’d met him in that alleyway, I did actually think he was a good dresser. Even though I prefer dressing casual, even I can recognize a good suit when I see one. Not that that makes me a queer or anything. But…I also can’t deny that Lance is a good looking guy, and the way he carries himself, although annoying at times, is kind of charming in its own weird way. Too bad that was all bullshit at the end of the day. Earlier he looked playful and laid back, but now he’s just frowning and looking at me like this is his way of getting revenge on me. But why? Sure, I gave him a hard time here and there, but that was only because he needed to get off his lazy and ungrateful ass for crying out loud.

And then it hits me. He probably felt like he was being treated like crap under my shoes, like he was nothing compared to me. That’s not true, but he doesn’t know that. How could he? I’d be pissed too if someone talked to me like that. I’d string them up by their neck and watch them hang. But it’s not like I’m in love with the guy. Far from it. Being with Mercedes is all the proof needed to show that I’m straight. Who cares that I feel more connected to Lance and would charge into a fight with him no matter what. I ain’t no damn fag. Still, this hurts. More memories of us hanging out and talking come back to my mind: him laughing and me laughing along with him, us having each other’s backs when we took down that idiot Diaz, and me literally saving his life. Not to mention, why did he have to make that joke about us locking lips? Is he a fruit or something? 

Goddamn it, Lance…

Remorse for both what I did to him and what I know I have to do now washes over me. A part of me doesn’t want to do it, but another part is demanding that it must be done and that there's no other way, at least when it comes to being able to keep my sense of dignity and pride intact. I load my gun with a heavy heart.

I didn’t see this coming, but I should have, and now I have to deal with the consequences.

[miranita]

Here’s a little extra too for @nevergonnasimpyoumikey for the @gtafest 💖

[thenoman-sland]

Hi, @bazahabinga, I'm your Secret Santa in @gtafest! Happy holidays! Hope you enjoy what I came up with based on your ideas: Celebrating Christmas at Cluckin’ Bell. Niko lost a bet, by the way.

[bazahabinga]

@aquilaxyz Hello! I was your secret santa in @gtafest ! I took your idea of Trevor in a dress / something silly with these two and had Michael and him do some last minute Christmas shopping at the mall together! I hope you like it :D Merry Christmas / Happy Holidays!

[marmakar]

Hello @hanajoyishere ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

I’m your secret art buddy in @gtafest

I drew a melancholic Tommy Vercetti spending the holiday alone in his mansion (though it kind of turned into a "POV: you're drinking with Tommy Vercetti", haha) from GTA Vice City for you!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! ᕕ( ՞ ᗜ ՞ )ᕗ

[ridwwx]

Hi @dha1drated , I’m your Secret Santa in @gtafest !

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!

Young Michael and Trevor! :>

[iristhepng]

MERRYY CHRISTMAS !!!! @aflowerycorpse i was your secret santa!!! here are some chibis of the iv boys!!!!! 🫶🫶🫶

thank you @gtafest for putting together another awesome event !!! <3

[gtafest]

GTA SECRET SANTA 2024

It's time for another Secret Santa!

For those who don’t know, Secret Santa art trade is an exchange between artists and writers who create fics/fan arts/graphics for one another as a Christmas present. Secret means that you can't tell anyone what you are working on until it's time to post your work.

The theme is mostly Christmas, but you can also leave other kinds of prompts if you want. You can ask for gifts about any GTA games or even your original characters. The mod will do their best to match up everyone so that there is representation for as many games as possible.

NSFW prompts or themes so heavy that they could make people uncomfortable are not allowed. Always ask if you're unsure! Make sure your prompts are very clear on what you want. The form has a guide on leaving prompts.

You can join by filling in this form. It will only be available until November 15, so be quick! By November 18, you will receive the information of the person you're going to gift your work to. Then you will have until Christmas to work on your gift. If you can't stick to the deadline, you shouldn't participate, but in December, all Christmas themed GTA works that this blog gets tagged to will be reblogged! <3

The moderator will ask you for progress a couple of times before the deadline to make sure that everyone gets their gift. If there are any problems and you can’t participate any longer, contact the mod ASAP.

Feel free to reblog this post and hopefully, we get a lot of participants to light up the Christmas time!

Mod: @nevergonnasimpyoumikey

[aquilaxyz]

Hiya @danzinmfndaze! I was your Secret Santa in @gtafest <3 Recently I'm really into painting my nails so yeah, drew them just chilling and preparing for Christmas! Happy Holidays and I hope you'll like it! <3

[monarch-boo]

Hey @salidummay, here is your @gtafest gift! Happy VDay, have a good one!

The prompt I picked was about the three hanging out at a Valentines Day party, and I thought it would be fun to set it in the Maisonette.

Would Tony even want Niko and Johnny in there? I don't know, I just thought it would be fun to come up with how the Maisonette would hypothetically be decorated for VDay.

Simple lighting color changes and a couple of decorations, one of which being the lamps on the tables which kinda got blocked off by the guys so here's my brainstorming showing it!:

[mesetikpng]

Merry Christmas everybody !! Here's my secret santa gift for @Dune_Rune on twitter!! hope you like it 😝

@gtafest

[notmadsimon]

🌿 Happy Halloween, GTA fandom!

This is my work in mind blowing marvelous Lie Still Fanzine (2024) 🪨

> Make sure to follow the link to see the mesmerizing horror of other participants' fan art and fanfiction!

Special thanks to @nevergonnasimpyoumikey @thenoman-sland @gtafest for organizing this project 🎃

[miranita]

Heyoo @danidfordangercreativestuff , here is your secret @gtafest gift! Happy Valentine’s Day! Hope you like it!! 💖

[thenoman-sland]

For the summer fest, hosted by @gtafest.

[whichstoodonrockyshores]

"Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal."

Happy holidays to @iristhepng, I'm your Secret Santa for the @gtafest exchange.

There was a reason Niko was the designated driver for his loved ones. Inside of Packie’s damned red Comet, two men roared down the streets of Liberty.

His hand gripped the overhead handle, so tightly his knuckles were white. Niko felt his back crack as Packie turned harshly yet again. The tires squealed as they struggled to make traction on the wet road. Snow was falling, barely enough to stick to the ground, but enough to get the ground slippery. Liberty Rock Radio was blasting; something by Mötley Crue, and Packie loved it. He whooped and parked the car in Star Junction. He had a huge smile on his face, a rare treat. Niko finally let go of the handle, gripping his chest as he took a deep breath. 

And Niko thought he was a questionable driver, fuck.

“Only place open on Christmas is Cluckin' Bell, Niko. You in the mood for that?” Packie asked, looking in Niko’s direction. He turned the radio down and buttoned up his coat, ready for a Christmas walk around Star Junction.

“Sure. Maybe I should drive us home, though?”

“If you wanna. Just don’t crash my Comet. I spent my hard-earned cash on this, don’t want some Slav totaling it so soon,” Packie said, patting the steering wheel of his car. Niko rolled his eyes… This was Packie’s big purchase after the bank robbery. A brand new red Comet. Niko would never understand the American obsession with flashy cars. His favorite cars were ones with low gas mileage, cheap to fix, and simple to hotwire in a pinch.

“I won’t crash.”

“How am I supposed to trust ya, though? You don’t have a license.” Packie tried to hold the car door open, but Niko wasn’t having any of that. He shook his head and got out of the Comet by himself. 

“And you do. Enough said.”

“Can’t argue with you there, Niko-boy. Fuck me, it is cold…” Packie blew onto his hand, in a futile attempt to warm them. The other man grabbed his hand, not allowing time for doubt or hesitation. Niko knew how shy Patrick could be about the softer side of their relationship. He often insisted they weren’t even a real couple, just friends with benefits. 

That would only be true if the benefits stretched to include pizza dinner dates at Niko’s penthouse, or romantic walks around Meadows Park. Not that Niko didn’t see those as benefits… but he would never do that with a fling. Or even a friend. Nor would he do this with a friend. Holding hands while walking around Star Junction. 

“This place has changed a lot since I was a kid. Used to feel…realer, I guess,” Packie said, speaking in a quieter voice, looking at the painfully bright advertisements. The snow almost made the screens harsher to look at, the colors bleeding into Niko and Packie’s eyes, “Now it’s a fucking playground. Fake. And I heard they’re making it pedestrian-only soon. Fuck that.”

Niko nodded along. He didn’t care much for Star Junction, one way or another, but Packie clearly had some nostalgia for it. This was his home, after all, “Really? Why is that?” 

“Hell if I know. Change the city some more, why don’t they? Maybe next, they’ll replace the grass in Middle Park with astroturf. Go all in on the fakeness.”

Niko stayed silent, and simply nodded along with Packie’s complaints. The two entered the Cluckin Bell and ordered two Fowlburgers. It tasted like chemicals and shame like it always did. 

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, these things suck ass,” Packie stated firmly, chewing with his mouth open. He hardly even realized he was doing it, manners were never his strong suit, “But with you, it almost tastes good.”

“They do. I think that is just the extra Christmas chemicals they put in.”

“Damn right.”

They finished eating and returned to the cold, harsh outside. Packie stole Niko’s hand this time, neither commenting on the action. He led the way, past the red Comet, and further up the sidewalk. His lips were pursed, nervous, as he walked with Niko.

“Patrick, where are you taking me?” Niko queried, with a small grin growing on his lips, “You passed the car.”

“I know that! Just follow me. I, uh, want to show you… somethin’.”

Niko watched the shorter man walk swiftly. The wind blew directly in their faces, the snow in their eyes. Packie heaved onward and stopped at a small store. A small, decorative version of the Nativity scene, the kind both Niko and Packie had seen many times before. This one was not spectacular, or noteworthy at all.

“This is it?”

“Yeah. I’m an artist, Niko, I see things different.”

Niko coughed, shocked at both the man’s words and behavior, “You have never called yourself an artist before. What is it, Packie? Is this your way of asking if you can come to my apartment?”

Packie looked on, then away, like Niko had caught him in the act. So that was it. He wanted more time with his boyfriend, not wanting to return home to the chaos and vitriol that was waiting for him. Packie had skipped Christmas Mass and dinner to even be here with Niko; no doubt his mother was waiting back in Dukes to give him a long lecture about the importance of church, family, and Christ.

“You could have asked. Let’s go back to the car, warm up a bit.”

“Sorry. You know I suck at askin’ for shit,” Packie mumbled, walking swiftly with Niko back to the car. The wind was at their backs, this time, “Didn’t wanna get in the way of your Christmas. I thought you and Roman were gonna do shit together.”

“No,” he stated simply, “Roman is with Mallorie’s family. You know I don’t mind having you over, Patrick.”

“Yeah, but…” Packie groaned, “Fuck you. You’re too nice to me, damn prince, how am I supposed to act around ya?”

“Like yourself. How else?”

Packie had nothing to say to that, and nothing to say at all until the two returned to Niko’s Algonquin apartment. It was warm inside, and somewhat decorated. Roman had insisted on a Christmas tree, despite Niko’s protests that once it was put up, neither cousin would remember to take it down after the holiday season. The colorful fairy lights set the mood well.

“Nice tree, Niko,” Packie commented, taking his jacket off. He made himself comfortable on Niko’s couch.

“I don’t understand how your mother puts up so many decorations. I was sick of them after just putting this tree up with Roman.” Niko sat next to Packie.

“Ha, she usually makes us do it. Says it’s good for family bonding. Like us kids at home can get more fucking bonded,” Packie rolled his eyes, “Derrick didn’t show, shocker, I know. He’s done nothing but break Ma’s heart since 1988.”

“Still getting high on park benches?” Niko asked, always curious about Packie’s family. 

“Who the fuck knows. He doesn’t even answer my damn calls anymore.”

Niko nodded. Finally more comfortable on the couch, he wrapped an arm around Packie. Packie’s eyebrows tilted, anxiety-ridden, as he did the same. 

“You don’t gotta do all this…fruity shit with me, Niko. The touching and kissing, I mean. I don’t expect it from you,” Packie explained, “I’d almost prefer it if you didn’t. Then it’d be less real. This ain’t supposed to be real.”

Niko observed him. Tried to get a read on what Patrick was thinking. 

“I ain’t gay. Or, or maybe I fucking am! I’m so damn confused, about this, about everything! Fuck!” Packie yelled, irate at himself. He leaned on Niko, wanted his comfort, even if the desire was subconscious.

Niko was one to give him that comfort. He rubbed Packie’s shoulder, pulling him closer. Packie looked away, frustrated.

“I know you are confused. You’ve told me before,” he said, sounding tired, “I don’t have the answers you’re looking for, Patrick.”

“Of course you don’t. It ain’t ever that simple…” Packie leaned onto Niko. Their whole bodies were pressed up on each other, now. Niko nodded, picked up the remote, and flicked his television on. Neither felt like conversing at the moment, and the sounds of obnoxious commercials and a young Macaulay Culkin attempting to murder two bulgers filled the silence well.

“Is this a Christmas movie?” Niko questioned, not having seen many Christmas movies before. Especially not one that seemed strangely violent.

“Yeah. Home Alone,” Packie explained, looking a bit less frustrated, “Was always the only Christmas movie I could stand, ‘cause the kid is so violent. Every other one is too sappy and full of shit for me.”

“I could see you doing something similar as a child,” Niko said, smiling a bit. Packie chuckled, finally calming down and closing his eyes. He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small box.

“I got you a gift. For Christmas,” Packie mumbled, handing Niko the box, “Take it before I change my mind.”

Packie looked embarrassed. The color in his cheeks darkened to pink, and his eyes darted away from Niko. Whatever the gift was, it was poorly wrapped. The other man was shocked, Packie had never mentioned exchanging presents before.

“I didn’t know you would buy me something,” Niko said, smiling a little as he took it.

“Yeah. It’s a surprise, numb nuts, just fuckin’ take it.”

Niko rolled his eyes, ripped off the paper, and opened the box. It was a Swiss Army knife, small and practical. He couldn’t help but smile a little. An actual thoughtful gift was the last thing Niko was expecting, but…

“Do you like it?” Packie asked, a bit nervous, “I thought someone like you would appreciate that sorta thing. I know I do.”

“Yes, I do. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The couple made eye contact. That only lasted a few seconds before their lips smashed together. Packie was aggressive as always. His hands wandered to Niko’s shoulders, gripping tight. Niko groaned and pulled back after a moment. Packie had a cheeky grin on his face.

“You kiss like you want to suck my tongue out.”

“Yeah, and I’m amazing at it, ain’t I?” Packie said, smirking cockily.

Niko rolled his eyes, and kissed Patrick again, smiling into it. He kept it gentle, or he tried to. Packie pulled back this time, groaning.

“You kiss like a fucking queer.”

Niko didn’t respond to that accusation. They just looked into each other's eyes, a certain tenderness to the look. Packie had no more quips. He stayed quiet, for once, simply contemplating. He frowned, and hugged Niko, his head resting on the crook of the man’s neck.

“Merry Christmas. Don’t know if I’ve said that yet today,” Packie’s voice was softer than usual. Sincere in its meaning. 

“Merry Christmas, Patrick.”

[tacticalhimbo]

HAPPY HOLIDAYS @despitethecold ! I come bearing a gift for you, courtesy of @gtafest !

Your prompts were GORG and I loved them all, but I saw your suggestion of a very Lester Christmas(tm), and decided to give him some love because he's underrated imo <3

Also because complex holiday feelings and complex feelings surrounding disability... felt 😔✌️

But I promise this has a happy ending :} Hope you enjoy it!

WORDS: 1.1K FANDOM(S): Grand Theft Auto 5 WARNINGS: Mentions of Internalized Ableism, Post-Game Plot (Ending C/Deathwish)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Let me know if you’d like a more permanent copy of this, too! I’m always happy to provide a PDF version of the writings I do!

[NEOCITIES MIRROR]

Life keeps ticking. That’s what everyone says, isn’t it? That life’s some great climb; you only get one, so live it to your fullest! Hell, he brought into that ideal briefly–thought it would make things in his personal life better. But it didn’t. And now that the snow began to fall in the once tropical streets of Los Santos, and the neighboring homes began to glisten with multicolored strings and twinkling lights, Lester realized that yet another year had rushed by.

He was just another year closer to the inevitable.

It hurt when it’d hit him. Punched him in the gut as the realization sunk and kept sinking. It was going to be harder to get out of the house now, more than it already was given the crumbling steps in front of his home and the lack of reliable transportation now that… he was alone. Back to ol’ reliable: Solitude. Isolation. The status of a ghost, as everyone else had to go off the radar after The Big One™. What was done was done, and it was done for good. Michael and Trevor seemed to have made up enough to not kill each other in the end–truly a Christmas miracle, if one was to ask Lester–and Franklin decided that he was done with this sort of life. He struck gold, and decided after all the shit he’d been through… enough was enough. He wasn’t going to throw it all away because he got a luckier break than his counterparts. Or so Lester had thought, until he’d caught a glimpse of movement outside the door. A blip on the security screen. Tired hands reached up to adjust thinly-framed glasses, eyes squinting to account for the change in focus. When they did, a finger slid to enable the microphone.

“Franklin? What are you doing here?”

The bundled-up man outside looked around, then up to the corner. His head tilted until he’d noticed the camera staring back at him.

“Hey! Lester. What’s good man, was wonderin’ what you were up to. I was in the area and… you know, figured I’d drop by.” 

Not a lie; not the whole truth. The fact of the matter is… Franklin missed the camaraderie, despite the intense arguments and the chaos that often ensued. He missed the opportunity; the feeling of being busy and having a purpose beyond everything he’d settled into. One thing was certain enough, though: There was no way in Hell he was going home for the holidays. Denise would have his head if he’d suddenly shown up after fucking off to his new home in the hills–after all, she’d finally gotten what she wanted: peace and quiet and a home to herself. Lamar and him were still on rocky terms after everything, too. Sure, they’d more or less made up, but there was still tension in the air; a stiff sense of betrayal that’d left a bitter taste on their tongues. And beyond that… The Unholy Trinity were all Franklin really had. With them gone their separate ways, the best option–besides spending the holidays miserable and alone–was with the one connection he knew he had.

And it went both ways.

“Alright, fine, come in.” A few button presses. A click. The door unlocked and Franklin was more than happy to step into the warmth that’d awaited. Hands finally left his pockets, rubbing together rapidly to take it all in. The friction alone generated enough heat to warm his palms, whilst the interior’s stiffness brought the backs to an equal temperature.

“Surprised nobody else stopped by. Woulda thought…”

Lester wheeled himself from the computer and to the cluttered living area. When he got to the threshold, he felt along the wall until the hilt of his cane fell into his hands. He took a moment, adjusting the placement, before using it to pull himself up and lazily push the chair back.

“Michael’s been handling things with his family, and Trevor… well… he’s doing his own thing I’m sure.”

“You doin’ your own thing too?”

“Something like that. You know, I’m… surprised you’re here. Figured you would have found some chaos to dig yourself into.”

A lighthearted, albeit stilted, laugh from Franklin. “Nah… Flyin’ solo for now.”

Curiosity. “And your first thought was to come here to resolve that?”

Well, when Lester put it like that… it sounded pathetic. Sad. Bitter. And perhaps it was. The subtle disavowing of his own worth, and the subtle chiding of Franklin’s loneliness. There was recognition in it. An intimate understanding of what it felt like to be alone while the world around you kept moving. Franklin sighed and shrugged, finding himself skirting around the question in an attempt to guide the conversation elsewhere.

“Well, it’s on the way up to Mirror Park. When Lamar and I were kids, we’d always walk up that way and look at all the decorations people put up–’course I drove down here and parked somewhere else. Wasn’t about to haul my ass down from the Hills–but he’s got his own thing going, and sometimes walking alone’s just… you know, relaxing.”

“Can think as much or as little as you want, that it?” A subtle vulnerability; an acknowledgment of understanding.

“Exactly.” A pause. “You wanna come? Could be fun laughing at all the tacky blow-up Santas and shit.”

And as much as Lester wanted to say yes, he knew all too well going out in the cold and walking was not an option. Nowadays, walking was hardly an option as is; everything fucking hurt and the more he lingered on his feet idly chatting about the prospect, the more he felt like just laying down and trying to sleep it off. Was it the best way to manage the pain? No, but it beat the amount of medications he was taking just to ‘stay functional’ while overseeing the Unholy Trinity’s shenanigans. Now, it was down to the bare essentials, and even then…

“Look, Franklin, I appreciate the gesture. Really. But… Ah, fuck it.” 

It wasn’t worth rehashing. Not to him; Franklin, however, noticed the hesitation backing his words. The subtle but visible discomfort as Lester pressed on toward the door.

“Hey–hold up. Let me go get my car.” A pause. “Does your chair fold?”

He paused.

“That old thing? Never got around to getting one that could. Figured most of my work was done in-house and I’ve never been interested in going around the city and witnessing all these… whiny West Coast douchebags.” A subtle smile followed by laughter from Franklin.

“Man, fuck you–this whiny West Coast douchebag’s trying to be a good friend and this is the thanks I get?” A lighthearted jab–Franklin was already in the midst of pulling out his keys and stepping out the door. “Listen. I’ll go get my car, ride us up to the little lot by the park, and we’ll take it from there, yeah?”

“... Alright, fine. Only because you twisted my arm. And, uh, thanks Franklin.”