#Fic: Snowflakes and Sleigh Bells

[chicgeekgirl89]

Summary: A nightmarish White Elephant gift haunts Carlos for the entire holiday season. Rating: M (no sex, but like...heavy on the implied) A/N: Is this a Christmas fic? Yes. Is it now January? Also yes. But Christmas is a feeling you can have anytime! Read on AO3

“Noooo!!!” 

There’s a collective shout of protest from the entire group as Mateo snatches a mug full of handmade chocolate from Paul and returns smugly to his seat on Owen’s sofa. “I got it for you boo,” he says, smiling up at Nancy with such a lovesick expression that it prompts another groan from everyone.

“Cap that’s not fair! People shouldn’t be allowed to steal gifts for other people!” Marjan protests. 

“You’re just mad because now Paul’s gonna steal your bath bombs!” Mateo tells her, not looking the least bit sorry.

“Yep,” Paul says, hopping up and plucking the bag of bath bombs from her lap.

“Cap!” Marjan protests again, trying to grab it back and failing.

“There is nothing in the rules that says you can’t steal a gift with the intention of giving it away once the game is complete,” Owen says calmly.

“Is there anything that says how unfair it is that the couples get to take home two gifts?” Marjan grumbles, crossing her arms and sinking back into her chair petulantly.

“Maybe you should bring a boyfriend next time then,” Mateo shoots back.

“Okay enough children,” Tommy says calmly from where she’s sitting next to Judd and Grace. “Marjan you get to either steal or pick a new gift.”

“Fine,” she huffs and rolls her eyes. “I will take a new gift.”

Owen’s annual White Elephant party has been in full swing for a couple hours. The food and drinks have been flowing all night and they are deep into their gift exchange. Tommy holds a gift certificate for a local movie theater, Carlos stole a set of ornaments from Nancy two rounds ago, Judd has managed to wrangle a set of freezable beer glasses back after three steals, and Grace has threatened bodily harm to anyone who tries to take the gift card for a pedicure that she unwrapped to start the game. 

It’s been a night full of laughter and holiday spirit, much needed after the last few months. T.K. is snuggled into Carlos’ side, his eyes full of light and happiness. The relief Carlos feels at seeing him enjoy this time with friends and family is palpable. 

“Fine,” Marjan says, putting on that air that says she’s “rising above” even though she’s likely still harboring bitterness inside. “I will choose a new gift.”

She opens a gift bag with snowflakes on it to reveal a “Grow Your Own Avocado Kit” that mollifies her. “Okay Tommy, you’re up,” T.K. says. “Are you stealing or opening?”

“I think I will open,” Tommy says, reaching for a flat-ish gift that’s wrapped in the standard Amazon gift wrap. “I like an element of surprise.”

She puts on a face of fake contemplation and shakes it lightly. “Hope it’s not breakable,” Judd teases. 

“Doesn’t sound like it,” she says, pulling the packaging off. 

She and Grace both realize what it is at the same time and their eyes go comically wide. “Oh…my,” Tommy says as Grace clears her throat and shifts a little, clear amusement on her face.

“What is it Tommy?” Nancy asks, craning her neck to try and see.

“It is um,” Tommy turns it around for everyone to see, “an adult advent calendar.”

For a long moment the only sound in the room is Michael Bublé crooning on about white Christmases and sleigh bells. And in that moment, Carlos should realize that he’s doomed. But he’s too relaxed and full of holiday cheer to realize his fate has been sealed. So instead he sits there in blissful ignorance and doesn’t realize that his fiancé, cuddled sweetly in beside him, is already plotting a course of action that is going to ruin his holiday season.

“Well,” Owen says finally, “that is…an interesting choice. Who um, who decided to bring that gift?”

“It was me!” Mateo says proudly. “My buddy got one last year and said it was awesome. He and his girlfriend really enjoyed doing the activities.”

Carlos winces. Poor Mateo. The kid really doesn’t get it sometimes. 

“Babe,” Nancy says patiently. “What do you think an adult advent calendar is for?”

“I don’t know,” Mateo says, obviously confused by everyone’s reactions. “Like drinking wine and stuff? Things for adults.”

“Mateo, can you really not think of another meaning for the word ‘adult’?” Judd asks.

He wrinkles his forehead in confusion and then it clears, his mouth forming an “o” shape. “Oooooh, adult like…ADULT.”

“There it is,” Paul says with a nod.

Marjan leans over Tommy’s shoulder. “Twenty-four naughty challenges for every fast day,” she reads aloud. “Every fast day? What the hell does that even mean?”

“I think it means this came from a country where English isn’t the primary language,” Grace says in amusement.

“Oh god, Tommy, I’m so sorry!” Mateo says, looking horrified.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Tommy says with a laugh. “I don’t think I’ll be getting much use out of this as a single person, but it’s the thought that counts, right?”

The group gets a good laugh at Mateo’s expense and the game moves on. Owen opens a gigantic Hershey bar and immediately goes on a rant about how sugar is a metabolism killer before trying to foist it off on Judd to give to Charlie, and then Marjan steals Grace’s gift card and all hell breaks loose for about ten minutes as vicious gameplay ensues. Carlos loses his ornaments and ends up with the Hershey bar, which, if nothing else, will make his nieces and nephews happy, so it’s not too big of a loss. 

When the dust settles everyone is left with a gift except for T.K. “What’s it going to be T.K.?” Judd asks. “Are you taking the last gift or choosing to restart the violence?”

T.K. looks up at Carlos, a wicked smile on his face and Carlos’ stomach lurches. “Please don’t,” he says.

“Don’t what babe?” T.K. asks innocently.

“You know what,” Carlos says, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. 

Because somehow, in all the chaos, Tommy still has the sexy advent calendar. Apparently no one else is interested in “naughty challenges for every fast day.” But T.K. is always up for naughty challenges. And embarrassing the shit out of Carlos. 

“What are you two whispering about?” Nancy asks suspiciously. “Are you crafting some master plan for stealing these bath bombs? Because you can pry them from my cold dead hands.”

“Relax. I don’t want your bath bombs Nance,” T.K. says in that voice he uses when he’s about to ruin Carlos’ life. It’s the one that’s obnoxiously casual with hints of mischief and delight and it sends fear shooting through him like nothing else.

“Okay well we don’t got until New Year’s, pick a gift T.K.!” Judd says.

“If you insist.” T.K. stands and walks toward Paul only to do an abrupt about face and grab the advent calendar from Tommy instead. “I think we can probably find a way to have some fun with this at our place.”

Carlos dies. He literally dies. He can feel his face going fire engine red. He wishes he could sink into the couch and disappear. He knows T.K. is sex positive. He knows that that entire 126 is far more aware of the intimate details of their bedroom life than he would like. He knows. But rarely does he have to see it flaunted so blatantly in front of his face. In front of his soon to be father-in-law’s face. 

Right now Carlos is also sex positive in that he’s positive they’re never having sex again.

T.K. plops back down next to him and opens it up to a random page. “Ooh look at Day Eighteen babe!”

“I wanna see Day Eighteen!” Mateo comes running and leans over Carlos’ lap to take a look. 

“Don’t look at Day Eighteen, skip right to the end,” Nancy says, snatching it from T.K.’s hands and riffling through the pages. “Game in Santa? Is that like a threesome? Do you have to hire a Santa actor? That feels like something that should have been booked months in advance.”

“Santa actors are indeed very busy this time of year,” Owen says. “And I’d imagine a Santa willing to participate in a threesome is going to be much more expensive than your standard mall Santa.”

Carlos slumps lower in the couch and covers his face with his hands. This is a nightmare.

Carlos is on shift the next day when his phone buzzes with a text message. He and Lexi are on desk duty, working on end of year paperwork. Other people might be unhappy about it, but as much as Carlos enjoys the more active aspects of his job he also finds paperwork soothing. It’s like putting things to bed and tying it all up in a neat little bow. 

Lexi does not agree.

“Whyyyyyy are there so many forms?” she moans, dropping her head dramatically onto her desk, dangerously close to her coffee cup.

Carlos automatically reaches over and moves it to safety. “You’re going to have to do them all over again if you spill coffee on everything.”

“No I won’t. I’ll just send them in covered in coffee stains. That’s admin’s problem.”

“Your desire for perfection is admirable,” Carlos teases her, picking up his phone to find T.K. has sent a picture of their sock drawer. Everything is neatly aligned and perfectly in place, just the way he likes.

Thanks for doing the laundry babe, he texts back. 

Three little dots pop up immediately followed shortly by a second picture, this time of their spice cabinet. Carlos frowns in concentration and zooms in a little bit. “Did he refill all the spices?” he asks under his breath.

“What was that?” Lexi asks, clearly eager to be distracted from her work.

“T.K.’s home today and he’s sending me pictures of his chores,” Carlos says, showing it to her before typing back, Busy day huh? Thanks.

Their sergeant calls them in for an impromptu meeting after that and Carlos doesn’t get to look at his phone again until lunchtime. A third picture greets him, this time of their vacuum, lines apparent on the carpet where T.K. has done some vacuuming. Carlos chuckles to himself, amused by his boyfriend’s antics. Thank you? he responds. What’s with all the extra chores today?

He knows something’s up when T.K. begins responding immediately. Even through the phone he can sense T.K.’s eagerness and glee. Whatever’s going on, T.K. is very proud of himself and probably about to make Carlos just a little crazy.

It’s Day Seven.

Carlos stares at the text, his mind drawing a blank. Day seven of what? December? What does that mean?

He texts T.K. back asking as much and receives yet another picture in reply. Carlos has to bite back an incredulous laugh when he realizes it’s a page from that stupid advent calendar telling them to send suggestive texts to each other throughout the day.

This is your version of sexting? he types out, trying not to smile too obviously. The spice cabinet and the vacuum? Very hot.

The reply comes immediately. No, it’s your version of sexting. This is my version of sexting.

The dots disappear for just long enough that Carlos gets distracted by a couple forms that need his signature. When he absentmindedly checks his phone again a few minutes later his jaw drops.

T.K. has sent a selfie of himself in front of their bathroom mirror. His shirt is unbuttoned, chest fully exposed, his belt and the button on his pants undone so they’re slung low on his hips with the waistband of his boxers peeking out tantalizingly over the top. And his face, god his face. Most of the time T.K. looks like a giddy little boy. But with his head tipped back, eyes half closed, mouth slightly open, god, he looks like… 

Fuck.

“Carlos? You okay?” Lexi asks, bringing Carlos crashing back into the present and his current location.

He shifts a little and immediately turns his phone screen off. “Yeah, just um, just need a break I think.”

She nods. “See? Told you. All this paperwork is bad for you.”

“Yeah,” he says, clearing his throat, heat still pooling in his midsection. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Don’t rush. The paper’s not going anywhere,” she says.

He slips into the locker room, checking to make sure no one is around before locking himself in one of the bathroom stalls. He taps T.K.’s name and it takes only one ring before his boyfriend is picking up. “Hey baby.”

“Jesus Christ T.K.,” Carlos says. “I’m at work.”

“I’m aware.” T.K.’s voice is full of delight. 

“You’re going to kill me,” Carlos says, letting his head fall back against the cool metal of the stall wall.

“Mmm might you be a fan of the advent calendar after all?” 

Carlos huffs. “No. I have,” he checks his watch, “four more hours before I can get home to you. I very much do not like the advent calendar right now.”

“Four hours huh?” T.K. says. “I can send a lot of sexy text messages in four hours…”

“T.K. I swear to god, do not keep sending me stuff here. I’m going to turn my phone off.”

It buzzes as he speaks and he pulls it away from his ear to see yet another text message. “Just one to remember me by then,” T.K. says, his voice flirty. “I’ll see you when you get home.”

And then he’s gone, leaving Carlos alone and turned on as hell. He sucks in a breath and tries to give himself a stern talking to about professionalism and decency.

It barely works. 

He equal parts wants to worship T.K. and murder him.

He can’t help himself. He opens the last text. Couldn’t resist, it reads and then there’s a picture of T.K. in nothing but his boxers, lip caught between his teeth, his free hand so suggestively placed that Carlos considers faking sick and rushing home as fast as he can.

Instead he hardens his resolve. Two can play at this game. 

He flicks through the pictures on his phone, settling on a selfie he took a couple weeks ago. He’d really been feeling himself after a heavy lifting session and snapped it in the gym bathroom. His shirt is pulled up between his teeth, his curls messy and sweaty in a way he knows T.K. thinks is sexy as hell. You can just make out the faint outline of a bulge in his shorts. 

Carlos smirks as he sends it, then turns his phone off without waiting for a reply. He has to make it through the rest of the day and that’s not going to happen if T.K. keeps texting.

When his shift is over he stops at the grocery store to grab more cheese and a salad to go along with the pasta they’re having for dinner. He gets home a little after six, his mouth watering at the smells of tomato and garlic that are swirling from their loft out into the hallway. “Hi!” he calls as he steps inside and slips off his shoes.

“Hi.” T.K. steps out of the kitchen, an apron over his clothes and an amused smile on his face as he gives Carlos a welcome home kiss.

Carlos rolls his eyes. “Dinner smells good.”

“Should be ready in a few minutes.” T.K. watches as he sets down his work bag and starts looking through the mail that’s on their console table. “Have you checked your phone lately?”

“I turned it off,” Carlos tells him. “You were extremely distracting and I didn’t think I could make it through the rest of my shift if you kept texting.”

T.K. takes a step closer, false casualness coloring his voice. “You might want to take a look.”

Carlos sets the mail down. “If I look at more dirty pictures of you now we’ll never eat dinner. And I’m starving.”

“I think my dirty pictures are the least of your worries,” T.K. says, glee lighting up in his eyes. “Your picture on the other hand…”

Carlos smiles as he pulls his phone out and powers it back up. “Oh you liked that huh?”

“I definitely liked it. And so did everyone else.”

“Everyone else? What are you talking abo—“ Carlos’ eyes go wide as forty-six missed messages pop up onto his screen. The most recent one is from Judd, and when he opens the text thread he finds that—

“Yeah, you sent your revenge thirst trap to the 126 group chat babe,” T.K. tells him.

Horror fills Carlos from top to bottom as he scrolls through the messages.

“Whoa, what is this, Thirst Trap Thursday?”- Paul

“Dang, do you lift bro?”- Mateo

“Oh Carlos, sweetie, I think you sent this to the wrong person.” -Tommy

“Okay Officer Hottie!”- Nancy

They go on and on, everyone chiming in at one point or another, including Owen, who offers to hook Carlos up with his supplement regimen the next time they’re at the house and culminating in a text from Judd asking everyone to stop forking texting, his phone hasn’t stopped buzzing for an hour.

Carlos has never been more mortified in his entire life. “Oh my god,” he says.

“Deep breaths. You’re okay,” T.K. says, patting him gently on the back.

Carlos pulls back and glares at him. “This is your fault!”

“Pretty sure I didn’t send my sexy pics to the wrong group thread. How is it my fault?”

“You and that stupid advent calendar! This never would have happened if you’d just let Tommy keep it!”

“It’s one picture Carlos. Everyone will have forgotten about it by tomorrow.”

(No one forgets. They bring it up all the time. They blow it up to poster size and hang it in T.K.’s locker at work. They send a graffitied version of it to Carlos on his birthday. The following year’s white elephant exchange includes a copy in a garish frame.)

Carlos crosses his arms over his chest. “We’re getting rid of it.”

T.K. snorts. “No we’re not.”

“Yes we are!”

“It’s my gift! You can’t throw away a gift!”

Carlos clenches his jaw. “That thing is trouble T.K. I don’t want it around anymore.”

T.K. steps closer. “That’s funny. Because usually you like it when I get into trouble.”

“Do not start with that.”

“Come on baby,” T.K. says, his tone flirty and suggestive. “We were having a pretty good time with it before all this.” He runs a finger along the buttons on Carlos’ shirt. “I thought that picture was hot. And I like that everyone knows this beautiful body is all mine.”

God help him, something inside of him unspools when T.K. talks like this. “Your dad saw it. And Tommy,” he protests, the embarrassment lingering.

“Tommy sees bodies all the time at work,” T.K. says. “And my dad really doesn’t care. Honestly it’s kind of surprising he didn’t send a selfie back.” He looks up at Carlos through his lashes. “Let’s have dinner and then I’ll make you forget about anything except how hot we both are, okay?”

He must be the weakest man alive. “Okay,” he says. “But you have to promise me that that stupid calendar will stay between us from now on.”

“I promise,” T.K. says, patting his chest. “Only the two of us will know anything about it.”

“Good,” Carlos says in relief.

A couple weeks later Carlos comes home from Christmas shopping, struggling to find his keys as he exits the elevator with an armload of bags full of gifts for his family and T.K. He’s so focused on trying to extract his keys from his pocket without dropping anything that he doesn’t notice their front door is slightly ajar until he’s reaching toward the lock. 

He immediately goes on high alert. T.K. had texted he was on his way home five minutes ago. There’s no way he could have gotten here so fast. And even if he had, there’s no way he would have left the door ajar.

Carlos carefully sets down his bags and pulls out his phone as he eases the door open a little further, peering carefully inside. There’s music blasting and the smell of cookies in the air. Are they being robbed by the Keebler elves?

He ventures in a little further, body tense and ready for a fight, when out of nowhere there’s a blood curdling scream and he has to duck as a mixing bowl comes flying at his head. “Whoa!” he yells as it crashes to the floor behind him, splattering something all over their entryway.

“Carlos?! What the fuck?!”

He looks up to find his sister staring at him. “Cesca! Oh my god!”

“You scared the shit out of me!” she yells angrily.

“You scared the shit out of ME!” he yells back, rubbing his chest where his heart is still thundering away.

“Why is everyone yelling?" Adriana appears from the bedroom looking confused and mildly annoyed, giving him his second heart attack of the last three minutes. 

“Why are you both in my house?!” he asks incredulously. 

“We’re baking cookies,” Francesca says, as if this is totally normal and acceptable.

“Don’t you have an oven at your place?” Carlos asks.

“It’s broken,” Adriana tells him, as she walks around the couch and then spots the mess the mixing bowl left on the floor. “Cesca, what the fuck? We’re going to have to make the icing all over again.”

“He broke in and scared me! I had to defend myself!”

“I didn’t break in, this is my house!” Carlos says. “And you left the door open!”

“Sorry you have a weird ass bougie slidey door that’s difficult to close,” Cesca mumbles with a roll of her eyes as she returns to the kitchen.

His heart finally returning to normal, Carlos steps outside and retrieves his bags and then firmly closes and locks the door behind him. He’d prefer if his cousin and sister were on the other side, but getting rid of them is harder than getting rid of Christmas card glitter. He’s just going to have to accept their presence in his home until they get tired or bored and leave. 

“Why didn’t you just go to Mom and Dad’s?” Carlos steps around the sticky mess on the floor to deposit his purchases on the couch before going in search of a towel to clean it up.

“We did,” Adriana says. “Your mom kicked us out.”

Carlos picks up the mixing bowl and swipes a finger along the icing inside, popping it in his mouth as he heads toward the kitchen sink. “Why would she kick you out for baking cookies?”

His eyes land on the kitchen counter and he stops dead in his tracks. Every square inch is covered in gingerbread people, some of them already decorated, some of them still plain brown. But decorated or not, one thing is very, VERY clear. Every. single. one. is having sex.

“Tía Andrea claimed it was pornographic,” Adriana says, picking up a piping bag to add some details to a pair that are doing it doggy style. 

Carlos feels like he’s having an out of body experience. His sister and cousin have always pushed the envelope of decency a little bit, but this is another level entirely. And he’s completely trapped. If he expresses dismay they’ll call him a prude. If he says nothing, he risks this happening again. 

“We call it The Caramel Sutra,” Francesca tells him. “It’s for our Christmas party.”

“You and T.K. are invited, by the way,” Adriana says. “It’s on Friday.”

“I think we’re busy,” Carlos says, his voice strained. Does he yell? Does he run? Does he go in the bedroom and shut the door until they leave? 

“Oh my god, not you too,” Francesca says with a roll of her eyes. “That’s the same look Mom had on her face right before she started yelling at us to get our smutty cookies out of her kitchen.”

“I mean, they’re pretty…aggressive,” Carlos says.

“They’re just cookies,” Adriana says. “Don’t stand there and pretend like you’re some kind of prude. We know what you and T.K. get up to around here.”

She picks up something off the counter and waves it at him. Hot dread spikes through him as he recognizes the god damn Sexy Advent Calendar. “Where did you get that?” he asks.

“It was on your bed,” she says. 

Damn it T.K.

Despite his best efforts to get T.K. to forget about the calendar, he’s given in a few times and allowed his boyfriend to use it to spice things up. Most of the suggestions are ridiculous, but Carlos has to begrudgingly admit that a few have been kind of fun. Still, he hadn’t expected anyone else to see the stupid thing.

“Why were you in my bedroom?” he asks, trying to keep his voice even, still not rising to the bait they’re dangling in front of him. 

“I was using your bathroom,” she says. She flips a couple of pages. “Did you guys try Day Nine? Oooh Tía Maria is going to make you go to confession for that one.”

“What’s Day Nine?” Francesca asks, wiping her hands on a towel and leaning over to see. “Oh god. Wow. Do you have that hip flexibility?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Carlos says, unable to stand it any longer. “Give it to me.”

He holds out a hand but Adriana pulls it back. “No. I’m getting ideas.” She pulls out her phone. “Hold still.”

“Now what are you doing?” he asks.

She lifts the calendar and snaps a photo of it with him in the background. “Perfect. I’m going to hold onto this in case I ever need it for blackmail.”

“Adriana, give me the calendar,” he demands in his best police officer voice.

It does not work. 

She flips another page. “Oooh lap dance on Day Twelve! Nice that T.K. got to revisit his stripper roots on that one.”

He lunges for her, his hand closing around air as she darts away from him into the living room. “Adriana I am not kidding!” he yells as he follows her.

She runs around the couch, facing him down on the other side as she flips another page. “Tell us Carlos, what is your ‘free naughty wish’?” 

“My current wish is that you leave here and never come back!” he says, feinting to the left and then dashing to the right to try and catch her.

She squeaks and evades him again by climbing up onto the couch cushions, holding the calendar high above her head. 

“Get down from there! No shoes on the furniture!” Carlos yells.

“Throw a pillow at him!” Francesca says from where she’s mixing new frosting and watching the entire situation unfold.

He turns around sharply and glares at her. “Shut up!”

“You shut up!”

He changes course and stalks toward her. “Oh hell no Carlitos,” she says, cutting through the dining room and holding the mixing bowl threateningly above the floor in front of Lou II’s aquarium. “I will drop this on your carpet and I will not feel bad about it.”

“Day four seems messy,” Adriana says.

“Stop reading it!” Carlos yells.

“Um, hi?” 

They all turn toward the once again open loft door to find T.K. standing there, his work bag in hand. 

“T.K.! You’re here!” Francesca says in delight.

Carlos uses the momentary distraction to vault the couch and snatch the calendar from a shocked Adriana. She lets out a squawk and topples into the cushions as he lands on the other side, triumphant. “Hey babe,” he says, slightly breathless. “Welcome home.”

“This looks fun,” T.K. says, that gleam in his eyes that says he’s going to be of absolutely no help to Carlos. 

Everyone dreams that their family will get along with their significant other. Sometimes Carlos dreams that T.K. would get along a little worse with his.

“T.K. I need to know, who was on top when you did Day Thirteen and do you have regrets?” Adriana asks.

“Our personal life is none of your business!” Carlos hisses at her.

“Then why did you leave your sex-vent calendar out in the open?”

And that is when Carlos loses it. He’s sixteen years old again, the two of them invading his privacy, and he reacts accordingly. “IT WASN’T IN THE OPEN IT WAS IN OUR BEDROOM AND YOU’RE NOT EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE HERE AT ALL!”

There’s a brief moment of silence as they all process his outrage. And then, “T.K. want a cookie?” Francesca asks.

“I would love one,” T.K. says. “But I think your brother might combust if I don’t talk him down a little bit first.”

She shrugs. “They’re here when you’re ready.”

“I’m fine,” Carlos snaps when T.K. walks over to him.

“Mmmm okay,” T.K. says, amusement on his face. “Come on, come here for a minute.”

Carlos follows him into the bedroom and stands stiffly with his arms crossed as T.K. shuts the door, giving the illusion of privacy even though his sister and cousin can probably still hear every word. “This is why we should have gotten rid of this thing!” Carlos yell whispers at his boyfriend, shaking the calendar angrily. “You can’t leave it lying around! My family has no boundaries! They wander in and out at will! This is our private sex life and I don’t want them to be a part of it!”

“I know,” T.K. says calmly, prying it gently from his fingers. “I get it. I’ll make sure it gets put away where no one can find it.”

“Thank you,” Carlos says, releasing an angry breath. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to come home to this.”

“Carlos I am familiar with the ways of your sister and your cousin. It doesn’t surprise me anymore to come home and find them hanging around.”

“Does it surprise you that they broke into our home to bake pornographic cookies in our oven?” Carlos says bitterly.

T.K.’s eyebrows rise. “That…is a little surprising, yes.”

“Well that’s what’s happening. So, yeah.”

He sits down on the bed and tosses the calendar down beside him. T.K. steps forward until their knees bump together. “You know what might help?” he asks gently.

“What?” Carlos asks, still feeling moody and pissed off at his family.

T.K. rubs a hand up and down his arm, that gleam back in his eye. “If we try out Day Sixteen again.”

Carlos flashes him a sour look. “I hate you.”

“But you loved Day Sixteen,” T.K. says, pushing a hand into Carlos’ curls. 

That’s true. And T.K.’s sweet smile and bright eyes and the way his fingers feel in Carlos’ hair make his stomach do that stupid flippy thing that always happens when T.K. is around and he feels himself teenage angsting a little less. But then he glances down at the advent calendar beside him and remembers what a nightmare it’s been.

“I don’t think we should use it anymore,” Carlos says.

“Not even for Day Sixteen?” T.K. tries.

“We don’t need a calendar for Day Sixteen. We already know how to do it.”

T.K. sighs. “Fine. You win. I will get rid of the advent calendar.” 

“Really?”

“Yes. Really. It’s clearly bothering you, so I’ll make it disappear.”

A smidgen of guilt flitters through Carlos, but the relief at not having to worry about the unpleasant side effects the calendar seems to bring them overpowers it. “Can you get rid of my sister and cousin too?” He realizes he sounds whiny, but he’s too wound up to care.

“I will.” T.K. says. “But it might take a little while. You know how difficult it is to get them to leave.”

Carlos sighs. “I know.”

“And your mom would probably want us to invite them to stay for dinner.”

“Ugghhhh,” Carlos groans. “Fine.”

T.K. steps back and holds out a hand. “Now come on. I’m actually dying to see these cookies.”

Carlos lets T.K. pull him to his feet. “I knew you would be.”

Noche Buena has always been chaos at his parents’ house, and it’s only gotten crazier since his sisters started getting married and having kids. Their family seems to expand by at least ten people a year and everyone has an open invitation to show at up at any point throughout the night.

Carlos goes over early to help with tamale assembly. The house is already full of family even though it’s early yet. His sisters are all here with their husbands and kids, and a few cousins, tíos, and tías have shown up to help with food prep too. He smiles as he listens to his mom and Tía Maria argue over how much salt to use in the masa. They have the same argument every year and every year the tamales are exactly as good as the year before no matter how much or how little salt they put in. 

He’s stirring what equates to a vat of sauce when the doorbell rings. “I’ve got it Andrea, your hands are full,” Tía Lucy says as his mother searches in vain for a towel on which to wipe them.

She disappears from the kitchen and seconds later he hears her exclaim, “T.K.! Feliz Navidad, come in, come in!”

“T.K. is here?” The words are spoken nearly in chorus and the next thing Carlos knows he’s been left completely alone as every woman in the house flocks to the front door. When they return they have his boyfriend in tow. 

“Now you know that you are family in this house, no more ringing the doorbell mijo,” Carlos’ mom is chastising him as they walk in, the rest of the group murmuring their agreements and insistence that he simply walk in and out at will like everyone else as they return to their food prep duties.

“I’ll remember for next time,” T.K. promises, even though Carlos knows full well that he won’t. 

“T.K.! Come taste this!” Lucía, one of Carlos’ middle sisters, holds out a cookie toward him.

He takes it dutifully, his eyes finding Carlos’ and sparkling with joy. Sometimes Carlos feels like his family is some kind of zoo exhibit, wild and crazy and amusing to anyone on the outside. But T.K.’s brightness and exuberance have fit seamlessly into the mix. In fact sometimes Carlos thinks T.K. fits in better than he himself ever has. 

“Ay, let the man kiss his boyfriend. They haven’t seen each other in hours,” Teresa says over the chatter, her Mrs. Claus apron fluttering as she bends over to check on things in the oven.

They let him through the crowd and Carlos pauses his stirring to give T.K. a brief peck on the lips. “Welcome to the crazy,” he says with a smile.

“I love the crazy,” T.K. reminds him.

“I know,” Carlos says, warmth filling him from head to toe. “Don’t let them talk your ear off. Oh,” he lowers his voice, “and definitely do not answer if Tía Maria and Tía Dolores ask you whose pozole is better. It’s a trap.”

“Got it,” T.K. says, giving him a mock salute with his un-cookied hand.

“Carlos! The sauce will burn! Stir!” Tía Maria calls out sternly and Carlos quickly returns to his duties. 

T.K. is pulled away after that, plied with food and drinks and taken to the living room for conversation by most of the tías. “Mom, go with them,” Elena urges. “We’ll handle things in here.”

“There’s still so much to do,“ his mom protests.

“We’ve got it,” Lucía insists. “Go.”

She looks reluctant, but removes her apron. “Don’t let Adriana and Francesca touch the masa.”

“Hey!” they protest at the same time from where they’re seated on the counter’s barstools, both of them halfway through their second glasses of wine and doing absolutely nothing to help.

“You heard me,” she says, giving them all a warning look before disappearing out the door.

Carlos switches hands, his right arm aching from stirring. Teresa sidles up to him. “So,” she says. “How’s the advent calendar working out for you?”

Carlos whips around. “I’m going to murder you!” he says, holding the dripping spoon out like a weapon at his sister and cousin. He should have known they wouldn’t keep it to themselves. 

“No murder during the holidays,” Teresa tells him.

“What?” Francesca asks. “She asked how you guys were doing. What was I supposed to say?”

“Literally anything else,” Carlos tells her through gritted teeth.

“I think it’s fun,” Lucía says. “You’ve gotta keep things interesting somehow.”

“But not too interesting. That’s how you end up like this,” Elena says, rubbing a hand over her pregnant belly.

“Good thing Carlos and T.K. don’t have that problem,” Adriana says. “All fun and no consequences.”

“Tell us about Day Nine,” Lucía says, her eyes sparkling. “That sounded very fun.”

“Since when did we become a family that discusses our sex lives?” Carlos asks, feeling suddenly hot and short of breath.

“Oh we’ve always talked about it,” Elena tells him. “You’ve just never gotten to be part of it because you’ve never brought a boy home before.”

“Sh! Shut up!” Teresa hisses, all of them going quiet as Tía Maria reenters the kitchen. 

She looks at them suspiciously. “Your mother wants the green tablecloth with the poinsettias on it.”

“I’ll get it,” Francesca says, hopping off her bar stool and opening a drawer next to the pantry. “Here you go.” She’s doing this fake sweet innocent thing with her face that makes her look even more guilty.

“Gracias,” Tía Maria says, still eyeing them all as if she knows exactly what they were just talking about. “Carlos, you’re not stirring.”

“Sorry tía,” he says, quickly turning around and going back to work. 

She gives them all one more look and then leaves. Carlos puts his spoon down and turns on his sisters. “And that is just one reason why I don’t like talking about my sex life. Are you trying to get me lectured on Christmas Eve?”

“God don’t be such a prude,” Adriana says with a roll of her eyes, popping a chocolate into her mouth and talking around it. “You’re over here gatekeeping the good stuff from us.”

“I’m not gatekeeping anything,” Carlos says. “You could get that stupid calendar on Amazon if you really wanted it. And we didn’t even finish it anyway.”

“Uh oh. Trouble in paradise?” Elena asks.

“Did one of you get a sex injury?” Francesca wants to know.

“God I can’t remember the last time I had a sex injury,” Lucía says wistfully.

“No!” Carlos says. “I told him we had to stop because everyone kept asking us about it.”

There’s silence in the kitchen. “You quashed your boyfriend’s holiday sex fun?” Teresa asks. “Yikes Carlos. Not good.”

“What a Scrooge,” Adriana mutters.

And odd mix of guilt and embarrassment floods through him. “I—it was—“

“Someone literally handed you a book of Christmas sex ideas and you turned it down,” Francesca shakes her head. “I’m ashamed to call you family.”

“Rejecting your partner can be very damaging to the relationship,” Lucía says as if she’s reciting from a self-help book. “Especially at the holidays.”

“I really don’t need your advice thanks,” Carlos says, even as her words hit home. Has T.K. been feeling rejected? He hasn’t seemed off or upset but��sometimes T.K. is really good at hiding things from him.

“Just saying this is Texas. There are plenty of other Carlos Reyeses around if T.K. feels like you’re not respecting his interests,” Francesca tells him right before she drains her wine glass.

“Okay, we’ve made the poor boy suffer enough. Let’s leave it,” Teresa says, finally taking back the reins of peacemaking oldest sister. “But seriously Carlos,” she says, leaning closer so only he can hear, “you should live a little. Before you know it you’re old and married and have to schedule sex on Google calendar between karate classes and PTO meetings. Take advantage while you’re both still young and fun.”

Carlos feels stricken. He continues stirring automatically, but as soon as he can persuade Lucía to take over he goes to find T.K. 

His boyfriend is laughing at something Tía Lucy is saying and Carlos pauses for a moment to appreciate how natural T.K. looks sitting with the rest of the Reyes clan. If T.K. thinks organizing their sock drawer is the sexiest thing he could possibly do, he is deeply, deeply wrong. Seeing T.K. fit into their family like he’s always been there is a massive turn on.

But there are more important matters at hand so Carlos pulls himself back to the moment and interrupts. “Hey, sorry tía. T.K., can I talk to you for a second?”

“Ooh some Christmas secrets? Or are you two off to kiss under the mistletoe?” Tía Lucy asks, the sparkle in her eyes matching the one Lucía had earlier. “Wait! I have some in my pocket you can use.”

“That’s okay, we’re good,” Carlos says, waving her off as T.K. gets to his feet. “We’ll be right back.”

T.K. follows him up the stairs and down the hall to his childhood bedroom. “Everything okay babe?” he asks when the door is shut securely behind them, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Did I make you feel rejected?” Carlos asks. “When I said no more advent calendar?”

“Rejected? What are you talking about?” T.K. asks in confusion.

“I told you no more advent calendar. Did that make you upset?” 

“I mean…it was kind of a bummer,” T.K. admits. “I was having fun and I thought you were too when you weren’t sexting our friends or chasing your family around the loft.” He shrugs. “But it’s fine. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” T.K. says, patting his stomach reassuringly. “Come on. Tía Lucy was about to tell me about the time she went paragliding in Hawai’i.”

T.K. heads out the door and back to the party, leaving Carlos to relive the kitchen conversation on his own. All he can think about is scheduling sex on Google calendar. Which sounds exactly like something he would do. And he absolutely does not want that to be their future. 

Maybe his sisters are right. Maybe he is too much of a prude. 

Carlos looks around and spots his dad’s printer. Before he can second guess himself he grabs a piece of paper and goes to work. 

XXX

T.K. is woken by soft, but persistent kisses. He inhales deeply, eyes fluttering open, gritty with lack of sleep. “Hey,” he grinds out.

“Merry Christmas,” Carlos says softly, pressing another kiss to his lips, then sliding his body over until he’s draped across T.K.’s torso. He trails kisses across T.K.’s collar bone, around his pec, and then back up to his neck.

“Mmm, that’s nice,” T.K. says, shifting a little bit to get more comfortable.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

They’re crammed into the full size bed in Carlos’ childhood bedroom, but T.K. doesn’t mind a bit. It means they have to snuggle close, cuddling each other while they sleep.

Last night they’d donned matching pajamas and stayed up late playing games with Carlos’ sisters and brothers-in-law after the kids went to bed. T.K. had stuffed his face with tamales and buñuelos and laughed at the antics of the Reyes children. They’re a special kind of chaos and it’s very funny to see his calm, sweet boyfriend absolutely lose his shit over a board game. 

T.K. skates a hand across Carlos’ bicep and up the back of his neck, toying with the soft curls he finds there. “What time is it? Do we need to get up?”

Carlos shakes his head. “I don’t hear the kids yet.”

T.K. blinks a few times and squints so he can focus on the alarm clock next to the bed. “Carlos!” he squawks. “It’s five o’clock in the morning!”

“I know,” Carlos says, nuzzling into his neck.

“Baby.” It comes out on a long suffering groan. “We’ve only been asleep for like four hours.”

“We need to take care of the final day of the advent calendar before everyone wakes up,” Carlos tells him softly, his nose brushing against the shell of T.K.’s ear.

T.K. frowns and pulls back a bit, forcing Carlos to lift his head and look at him. “The advent calendar is done. The last day was yesterday.”

“Mmmm, are you sure about that?”

“Yes?” T.K. says in confusion. “It was Game in Santa. Which we couldn’t figure out.”

“You know I’ve always thought it was kind of lame that you don’t get anything from an advent calendar on the twenty-fifth,” Carlos says. “It seems like you should get an even bigger gift.”

“I think that’s the point. You get something every day and then all your Christmas gifts on the twenty-fifth,” T.K. tells him.

“I don’t like it,” Carlos tells him.

T.K. snorts. “I’ll be sure and submit your complaint to the advent calendar council.”

“Good,” Carlos says, nuzzling down into his chest again. “But for now, I think you should check the advent calendar and make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

“The advent calendar is at home.”

“Is it?”

“It should be since you made me swear on my life that I would hide it away from any prying eyes.”

Carlos rolls away from him and reaches over the side of the bed, dropping a piece of computer paper on his chest. “Carlos what on earth?” he asks with a laugh.

“Take a look,” Carlos says, a smirk on his face.

T.K. reaches over and turns on the bedside lamp and squints as he reads Carlos’ bold handwriting.

Day 25: Fulfill a Fantasy.

He looks up at Carlos, a questioning look at his face. “What does this mean?”

“What do you think it means?”

“I—-I have no idea. You’re going to have to spell it out babe.”

Carlos pushes up onto an elbow and uses his free hand to grip T.K.’s hip, stroking his thumb back and forth right along the waistband of his pajama pants. “You stole Adriana’s phone last night.”

“You saw that?”

“I did,” Carlos says. “You deleted the blackmail photo she took of me and the calendar, didn’t you?”

“Very good detective,” T.K. says with a chuckle.

“You took care of me,” Carlos says, his voice low. “I think you deserve something special for that.”

He pulls T.K. closer and kisses him, firm and insistent, his mouth warm and wet and it sends sparks flittering through T.K.’s core. He pulls back for a second. “Are we going to have sex in your childhood bedroom?”

“Mhm,” Carlos says, diving in for another kiss.

T.K. lets him go for a second and then pulls back again. “We’re not allowed to have sex in your childhood bedroom. You tell me all the time that we’re not allowed to have sex in here.”

“I know.” Another kiss.

“Then what—?” 

“Isn’t it one of your fantasies to have sex with me in here?”

“I mean yeah but—“

“Well,” Carlos says, trailing a finger down T.K.’s bare stomach so that his muscles jump and twitch under his touch. “Let’s consider this a one-time special Christmas gift. But you are going to have to be very, very quiet.”

“What if your sisters walk by?”

“The door is locked.”

“What if your mom walks by?”

“T.K. do you want to do this or not?”

God he’s so turned on right now. Carlos’ fingers dip beneath the line of his boxers and T.K. arches into his touch, letting out a moan that Carlos immediately swallows in another kiss. “Yes,” he says breathlessly when Carlos releases him from it. “God yes, yes, yes.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“This is going to get us both on the naughty list,” he says.

Carlos laughs. “I think I can deal with that for one year.”

Tagging some people who might be interested in reading: @lemonlyman-dotcom, @liminalmemories21, @carlos-in-glasses

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Snowflakes and Sleigh Bells

It’s the annual Christmas fic in the Lab Nights and Christmas Lights series, in which Belle and Gold both work at the same hospital - usually over Christmas. The fics detail each of their Christmases together, and this is the fifth in the series. 

Summary: Belle and Gold are celebrating their first Christmas with their new baby, and as usual, Aunt Elvira is around to make sure that everything is perfect. 

Rated:  G

The previous installments in the series can be found here. 

====

Snowflakes and Sleigh Bells

Christmas had always been Belle’s favourite time of the year when she had been younger, and now that she had a family of her own, it was definitely back to being at the top of the list of celebrations. Christmas with a baby, however, was proving to be something of a challenge. Rosie was coming up for four months and was getting to the grabbing everything that looked interesting stage, especially when Belle was walking around the house with the baby against her shoulder. At first, Rosie had been content with just grabbing Belle’s hair, something easily resolved by Belle keeping her hair in a ponytail all the time. Then, though, the sparkly Christmas decorations had gone up and her little fingers had made a beeline for the baubles whenever they were in reach. General consensus had been to keep Rosie as far away from the tree as possible.

When Belle looked back to the first time she had seen this Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, that first Christmas when Rum had invited her for Christmas dinner with him, Bae, and Aunt Elvira, she couldn’t believe that so much time had passed. Four years had gone in the blink of an eye. So much had happened during that time. She and Rum had begun their relationship, become engaged, got married, and now had a baby. Bae had started university, and Belle still couldn’t get over how the fourteen-year-old she had met that first Christmas had grown into the young man he was today. Aunt Elvira, well, she was just the same as she had always been, and it was good to know that some things never changed. Belle continued to gaze at the tree, holding her daughter close. The tree hadn’t changed either. Always the same decorations, the same fairy (knitted by Aunt Elvira) in pride of place at the top, the same tangled strings of lights. Since moving in with the family, Belle had been privy to all the same yearly arguments between Rum and his aunt about where the decorations should go.

It wasn’t as if Belle’s touch was completely overlooked in their Christmas decorating, but the tree itself had always been Elvira’s domain, with Rum rarely daring to break any of her traditions. As good-natured as Elvira was in all aspects of their lives and as incredibly influential in Bae and Rum’s lives as she was, Belle was more than happy to let Elvira keep the Christmas tree. Presently her train of thought was interrupted by the arrival of the woman herself in the living room, wiping her hands on a tea towel as she flopped onto the sofa beside Belle.

“Well, everything’s ready, we just need to wait for the errant nephew to arrive. He did promise that he would be home on time, and if he ruins Rosie’s first family Christmas, then I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”

“Right now, I don’t think Rosie really cares whether Daddy’s home on time or not.” Belle looked down at Rosie’s sleeping face, tucked in against her shoulder. She probably ought to put her down in her Moses basket, but Belle loved holding her daughter whilst she slept, the slight weight of her little warm body was a comfort to Belle as much as Belle’s touch was a comfort to Rosie. At least her maternity leave meant that she didn’t need to worry about working over Christmas like Rum did. He was working a regular day shift today and ought to be home in time for dinner, and then they would open their presents afterwards, having a Christmas evening rather than a Christmas day. It had been the strangest experience, waiting for him; she had never yet worked a different shift to him at Christmas except if he’d had to go in for an emergency, so whether they were at home or at the hospital, they were generally always together.

Bae popped his head around the living room door. They had seen comparatively little of him whilst he had been home for the holidays; Belle knew that he had a lot of reading to be done and papers to be written for when he went back, but she had also found out that he had found himself a girlfriend and was spending most of his free time talking to the mysterious Emma. No doubt Bae would divulge more details when the time was right, but thus far he was keeping tight-lipped, probably for fear of Aunt Elvira finding out and causing some form of embarrassment for him.

“Haven’t you started on the Prosecco yet, Aunt Elvira?” he asked.

“Well, you know your father doesn’t like me getting it started without him.”

Bae raised an eyebrow. “That has literally never stopped you before.”

“I know, but I can’t share it with Belle this year,” Aunt Elvira said, before giving Bae a Cheshire grin. “Besides, I’ve got something far better than Prosecco.” She shook the glass of gin and tonic that she was holding, making the ice cubes rattle, and Bae rolled his eyes.

“Sometimes I wonder how you managed to live to be nearly eighty,” he said.

“Gin is the secret to a long and happy life, Bae,” Elvira said sagely. “This is a philosophy shared by medical professionals!”

“I don’t think Ella Furrier counts.”

Ella was a nurse and colleague of Belle’s from the emergency department, and a good friend of Rum’s. Tales of gin-soaked antics were never very far away when Ella was around, and it was really no wonder that she and Elvira got on so well.

Bae just rolled his eyes and left the room again as there was the sound of the key in the lock, and moments later, Rum appeared, his cheeks and nose pink with the cold.

“I get the distinct impression that it’s going to snow tonight,” he muttered darkly as he entered the living room, still shivering, but his dour expression soon melted on seeing the Christmas tree with all the gifts under it, and Belle and Rosie in their matching Christmas jumpers, and he gave a warm smile. “Merry Christmas, my lovely girls. Yes, even you, Aunt Elvira.”

He came over and kissed the top of Rosie’s head gently before planting a rather more passionate one on Belle. Aunt Elvira cleared her throat pointedly and Rum rolled his eyes, pecking her cheek and wishing her a Merry Christmas before he left to go and wash the hospital off him. Now that Rum was home, Christmas could truly begin in earnest, and Belle reached over to take a peek out of the curtains. There was no sign of any snow yet, but she could make out heavy clouds in the sky overhead, and there was already frost on the ground outside. A white Christmas would truly make everything perfect, and as Aunt Elvira went to go and sort out the turkey, Belle crossed her fingers that snow would fall before the evening was over.

X

Whilst Christmas was Belle’s favourite holiday, Christmas night had become her favourite part of that holiday. It was on Christmas night four years ago that she and Rum had first kissed and she had first been welcomed wholeheartedly into his family. The food had been eaten and the presents had been unwrapped, and everyone was in that lovely calm and sleepy, satisfied state, that nothing could mar or change. It was almost midnight; Bae had gone to bed, although would likely spend the next couple of hours talking to Emma, and Elvira had vanished off upstairs citing some kind of mysterious errand that was either trying to eavesdrop on Bae’s conversation or was trying desperately to work out what she’d done with the gin and tonic jelly sweets that she’d hidden from herself before Christmas.

“You know, if she doesn’t come back soon, I’m going to get worried,” Rum said. “We might have to get up a search party. On the other hand, it is nice to have some peace and quiet to ourselves for once.”

“You know, Aunt Elvira is a lot shrewder than we give her credit for,” Belle pointed out, snuggling in closer to Rum’s side on the sofa. “She’s probably hidden herself away upstairs for the express purpose of giving us some time alone together.” She peered over Rum’s shoulder to where Rosie was sleeping snugly tucked up in her Moses basket beside the sofa. She had spent most of the evening watching presents being opened with great excitement, even if she couldn’t quite grasp what was going on yet, and she would wake up wanting a feed soon enough, so despite Belle’s sleepiness, she didn’t fancy going to bed just yet.  For now though, it was just her and Rum, and she felt that they really needed to make the most of all the cuddling time that they got together. Rum’s arms came around her, pulling her in closer onto his lap, and Belle nuzzled in against his neck.

“I think that this has been the best Christmas with you yet,” she said. “Everything’s complete now. We’re together and we’ve got Rosie, and Bae and Aunt Elvira are here, and if I’m not very much mistaken, it’s started to snow.”

Rum twisted in her embrace to look through the gap that Belle had left in the curtains and groaned. Belle batted his shoulder playfully.

“Oh come on, it’s not like we have to go anywhere in it for a couple of days, and I think it’s fitting that Rosie’s first Christmas should be a snowy one. We got her that cute little snowsuit with the reindeer ears just in case, and you know it’s not going to fit her this time next year. Tomorrow we’re making a snowman.”

“I’m really not sure that Rosie’s old enough to quite understand the concept of snow-based construction yet,” Rum said.

“Fine, you can stay inside away from the snow and I can explain to Rosie the mechanics of building the perfect snowman.”

“We’re not going to get enough snow for a snowman, we never do.”

Rosie waking up and giving a snuffly little cry put an end to their argument, but Belle knew that as soon as they woke up the next morning, if there was still snow carpeting the back garden, they would start it up again. With any luck she could get Bae’s assistance in the snowman endeavours. He had always loved the snow, and hopefully he had not grown out of it since becoming an adult.

“I still can’t get over how blue her eyes are,” Rum said softly, stroking Rosie’s cheek as she nursed. “She’s going to be your spitting image when she’s older. Breaking hearts just like her mother.”

“I’ve never broken anyone’s heart, thank you very much,” Belle said. “Besides, she’s got your nose, so I wouldn’t rule out your influence just yet.”

The snow was continuing to come down thick and fast, and Belle had to spare a thought for their colleagues manning the emergency department over the Christmas period, who would no doubt be dealing with various weather-related incidents on top of all the festive drunkards they usually saw in and out of A&E every December. Rum was just rocking Rosie back to sleep again when Aunt Elvira returned.

“Where’ve you been?” he asked her. “We were about to get the snow boots out and go looking for you outside in the blizzard. I thought a yeti might have got you.”

Aunt Elvira just gave her nephew a look. It seemed to be a look that ran in the family and Belle couldn’t help but end up if Rosie was going to inherit it as well. To be honest, Belle couldn’t decide if the thought of Rosie ending up anything like her great-aunt was a worrying or a welcome one.

“I was on a secret mission,” Aunt Elvira said cryptically. “It didn’t help that I couldn’t remember where I’d put it, but perseverance paid off.”

“Are you going to tell us the nature of this secret mission?” Rum asked.

“I’m getting to that, keep your hair on.” Aunt Elvira pulled out a small wrapped parcel from behind her back and handed it over to Belle. The tag read, in Elvira’s small, spidery script: To Rosie, on your first family Christmas, with all my love, Aunt Elvira.

“She’s a bit too young for it yet, but tradition is tradition,” Elvira said, and Belle looked up at Rum in confusion.

“What’s this about?” she asked.

“I don’t know…” Rum began, but then he tailed off and glanced over at the Christmas tree, looking at it intently, and realisation dawned. “I know. Open it.”

Belle unwrapped the gift carefully and held it up to the light, and suddenly she understood as well. It was a Christmas tree ornament, a delicately painted wooden Santa’s sled, complete with a team of reindeer, and Rosie’s name in curlicued letters.

“I got one for Bae for his first Christmas too,” Elvira said, nodding towards the tree where a matching ornament was hanging near the top.  For the first time since the tree had gone up, Belle noticed a gap where a bauble usually hung, and she knew that Aunt Elvira had left it purposefully for this new addition to her festive decoration. “It’s only fitting that Rosie gets one too.”

Belle hung the ornament in pride of place and Rosie, cradled against her father’s shoulder, reached out to grab it in her usual fashion. Belle took her little fist before she could cause any damage, kissing the tiny fingers.

“Merry Christmas, Rosie. Welcome to the family.”

[readyforthegarden]

Just Hear Those Sleigh Bells Jingling - J.M.K.

Synopsis: A cozy, quintessential and slightly rustic Christmas with Josh. A roaring fire, a bowl of chestnuts, and some sugar plum fairies dancing in your heads.

Warnings: None, jut pure holiday fluff!

WC: 2963

A/N: Dedicated to my @lunaindigoraven for being so wonderful and amazing, putting up with me losing my mind over these four men and being one of the best people here. I'm so happy and lucky to have met you and I hope you love this as much as I loved writing it!!

Sam’s Holiday Fic // Danny’s Holiday Fic // Jake’s Holiday Fic

🎄🎄🎄

"Babe! It's snowing again!" your delightful laugh rang through the rustic cabin as your wide eyes took in the flurries of snowflakes flittering down from the sky. Josh wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as he gazed out to the winter wonderland with you. "It's so beautiful."

"It is." Josh agreed softly in your ear, kissing the shell of it lightly. "Come on, come finish the tree with me." you let him pull you away from the window and into the living room of the cabin. Twinkling lights adorned the Christmas tree, a gold beaded garland and a silver tinsel one wrapping around it to the top where a golden starburst shone. A few baubles were already hanging from the branches, and you hurried over to the tub of decorations, rifling through for the next ornament to catch your eye.

"Oh, this one is so dainty!" you grinned, gingerly picking up the hand blown glass bulb. It had red glass poinsettia flowers pulled around it, and you were certain you'd break it if you breathed on it wrong.

"I love that one." Josh took it from you gently, attaching a small hook. "It should go front and center, the lights catch the glass so beautifully." He held it up to the tree, and you saw what he meant as the glass glittered and shined in front of the small lights. The two of you continued to decorate the tree, taking small breaks to refresh your spiced apple toddies and eat a snack off the rustic charcuterie board you'd both made earlier in the afternoon.

Popping an olive into your mouth, you stared at the tree, focusing and unfocusing your eyes to find any blank spots that needed an ornament. Josh stood next to you, crunching on a mini toast as he regarded the tree with the same scrutiny.

"Something's missing..." he mused as he chewed, and you nodded in agreement.

"Maybe we need to fluff the tinsel garland again?" you suggested with a shrug. Josh skewed his pursed lips to the side as he thought, and you had to fight the urge to lean over and smooch him, how cute he looked when he was perplexed.

"Let's take a little break, make some actual dinner, and come back with fresh eyes." Josh supplied after a few moments of silence. You nodded and took the hand he offered, letting him tug you along to the kitchen. Josh hummed under his breath as he helped you put together a quick Christmas Eve Eve dinner, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with a few sugar cookies on the side. You both sat at the table in silence as you ate, both trying to come up with what was missing.

Now that you thought about it, something felt off in the entire cabin. Maybe the lights were too dim..or too bright? The garlands were hung meticulously over the doorways, but maybe they weren't the right shade of evergreen?

"What do you think everyone is doing?" Josh asked softly, staring out the window at the piling snow. You broke off the arm off a santa cookie, munching on it quietly.

"Jake is probably trying to strangle Sam with a garland because he won't let him play any christmas music after 1981, while Ronnie films it. Your mom is making sure everything is ready for her Christmas Eve dinner and your dad is hiding in his music room, away from the chaos." Josh snorted a laugh that made you giggle even more than you already were.

"You and I would be the good kids, helping mom and actually decorating." Josh sat up straighter in his seat, priding himself on being a perfect child. You scoffed.

"We'd be up in your old bedroom, trying to be as quiet as possible so no one misses us, because you can't keep your hands or lips to yourself for more than ten minutes after you've had some Kiskza family recipe eggnog."

"Sue me, I've got a beautiful woman, and the Christmas spirits make me want to get my holly jollies off." Josh shrugged. You balled up your napkin and tossed it at him, faux appalled at his words. "Hey!"

"Ew, holly jollies?! That's gross." you grabbed your empty plate and stood up. "That's it, you've ruined Christmas."

"Oh no!" Josh followed you to the sink, placing his plate with yours in the basin and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you tightly back against him. "How can I make this right? How can I save Christmas?" you thought over his question for a few moments.

"Well, according to movie logic, you now have to get me to believe in Santa again, while winning a holiday baking contest and putting on a Christmas showcase that will save the orphanage from closing."

"I-I don't think I can do all that..." Josh held back his laugh. You pouted and thought it over a bit more.

"Hmm, Charlie Brown Christmas and you refresh my drink for me for the rest of the night?"

"That I can do." Josh pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your temple and headed out to the living room to start the movie. You quickly washed and dried the dishes and hurried to the living room, nearly tackling Josh onto the couch and getting cozy under the fuzzy throw blankets. He cuddled in close and made sure you were absolutely comfortable before starting the short movie.

The two of you finished out the night watching more classic movies, sometimes getting up to place another ornament on the tree or fluff the branches. As the two of you got ready for bed, the feeling of something missing was still there, and both you and Josh could see the slight sadness behind each others smiles.

While he left you alone to go double check the doors were locked, you snatched up your phone, opening the text thread quickly.

To: Jake, Papa K,

“Something is missing this Christmas, and I think I know what. How would you guys feel about coming up to the cabin and spending the holidays here together? Surprise Josh?”

Jake: “you’re already sick of being alone with Josh, huh?” you rolled your eyes and went to type a snarky response back, but Kelly messaged back.

Papa K: “having everyone together again would be amazing, we’ll be there!”

Unbeknownst to you, Josh had a similar idea.

To: Mom, Sam, Ronnie,

“Christmas isn’t the same without the family. We both feel it. Come up and spend a snowy holiday with us?”

Sam: “I knew you couldn’t be away from us for more than a day.”

Ronnie: “Say less!”

Mom: “I’m already packing! We’ll see you tomorrow!!”

You heard Josh’s footsteps coming back up the stairs and quickly set your phone on the nightstand, running to the en-suite bathroom and quickly snatching up your brush, running it through the ends of your hair like you’d been getting ready for bed the past few minutes.

“Babe?” he called out as he entered the bedroom. You peeked into the bedroom and he smiled at you once he saw you. “Ready for bed?”

“Yeah,” you smiled softly, setting your brush back down on the counter, and shutting off the bathroom light. You made your way to the big, cozy bed and slid in on your side, shimmying under the covers until you were pressed against Josh’s side right in the middle.

Josh wrapped his arms around you, snuggling into you and pressing soft kisses to your lips after turning off his bedside lamp.

“It’s so quiet.” you mumbled into his chest once you scooted even closer.

“I know.” Josh agreed. “We’ll play our Christmas music really loud tomorrow and clink our glasses a lot to fill the gaps.”

“I’ll sing along really loud, too.” you chuckled, knowing your voice was less than lovely, and Josh laughed, rumbling you on his chest and squeezing you tightly.

“I’d love to hear it.” he promised. “Goodnight, Sugar Plum.”

“Goodnight Joshy.”

🎄🎄🎄

“Just hear those sleigh bells jingling a-ring-ting-tingling tooooo!” Josh bellowed in a lower register, making you laugh as he spun you around in the living room as he sang along to the Carpenter's Christmas album. “Come on it’s lovely weather for a sleigh-ride together with yoooouuu!”

“It’s one in the afternoon, and it’s still too early for this.” you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, before tugging away from him and scooping up your coffee mug from the coffee table, and taking a long sip. Josh took the mug from your hand, taking a gulp as well and shrugged.

“You coffee lovers don’t have any natural perk.” he shook his head. “But you’ll need it later.” you paused as panic set in. Did he see the texts to his twin and dad? He used your phone to switch the music a little bit ago, it’s possible. You took a small breath and gave him a small smile.

“Why’s that?” you asked, your heart beating out of your chest, nervous that the surprise was ruined. Josh just grinned and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in close.

“Because, my lovely, silly Sugar Plum,” he began, “We have to stay up and catch Santa.” he tapped the tip of your nose with his index finger.

“Oh, you wanna stay up all night? Try and and catch the big man? I don’t think I can stay up that late.”

“Oh I have a few ideas on how I can keep you up, my love.” Josh smirked, leaning down and kissing you gently. You let the kiss progress, sliding your hands in his hair the shaved sides tickling your fingertips before they wound into his loose curls. Things were about to get a little heated when the sound of car doors slamming broke you two apart, both looking towards the large picture window in the living room.

Two large vans were parked out front next to Josh’s jeep, and people were behind the doors, grabbing things from the car. You looked at Josh, and he looked at you right back, then both of you at the same time said “Surprise!”

“Wait, what?” Josh asked as you laughed. “No, I surprised you! I asked mom to bring everyone up!”

“No way, I texted your dad and Jake!” Josh grabbed you and pulled you into a hug. “It didn’t feel the same without everyone.”

“I know, I was feeling it too.” He mumbled before kissing your temple. “C’mon, let’s go greet our merry guests!” you both moved to the door, throwing it open just as Karen was coming up the steps, a large roast pan in her arms.

“My baby!” she cried, moving towards Josh. He grinned and held out his arms, waiting for a hug and a kiss from her. Instead she plopped the roast pan in his arms and moved around him, wrapping you in a big hug and kissing your cheek. “Merry Christmas honey! Are you surprised?!”

“Thank you Mama, I am! It seems like Josh and I had the same idea! Do you need any help bringing stuff in?”

“Oh no, we didn’t bring much. Sam! Put those bags in the kitchen and once we’re settled you and Jake come help me with dinner!”

“Oh, you don’t have to cook, Mom.” Josh adjusted the pan in his arms, wrapping an around his mother and giving her a greeting kiss.

“Hush. I’m going to cook Christmas Eve dinner like I always do.” Mama K laughed. “Now take that to the kitchen and preheat the oven to three hundred and fifty degrees. If I don’t get that bird in now we won’t be eating until tomorrow morning.”

“I wouldn’t say no to that breakfast.” Jake smiled, lugging in suitcases, his partner behind him. You moved to grab one but when he let go, he swept you up in a hug, squeezing tight. “Thanks for inviting us up.”

“Of course. Christmas isn’t the same without all the Kiszka’s.” you gave a hug to his partner as well and ushered them into the house.

“Damn right!” Ronnie and Kelly bounded through the door way, shutting the cold air out behind them and gathering you up in a big hug before moving into Josh once he was back in the foyer. Once everyone was inside and settled, the noise of the everyone’s voices, the classic holiday shows on the TV turned up over the music playing in the background, you glanced over to Josh as you helped Mama K prepare her stuffing, cutting up celery as he and Jake picked over wines to serve with dinner. He met your gaze and rolled his eyes, wearing one of the biggest grins you’d seen on his face in the past few days.

“I’m going to show you the secret ingredient that makes my stuffing so amazing.” Mama K leaned over, whispering to you. “Not even Sam or Jake know this secret.”

“Are you sure I should know before them?” you looked surprised you looked at Sam who was peeling sweet potatoes at the table. “They’re your kids.” Karen regarded you for a moment, looking to Josh and back to you again, a soft smile on her face.

“You’re also one of my kids.” she said softly. “My mother’s intuition says you’re going to be around for a long, long time.” you blushed, looking up and catching Josh watching you and his mom interact with a smile on his face. “The secret is extra butter.”

“Just…butter?”

“Salted butter. About a tablespoon more than what you think you’re supposed to use.” Karen winked. “Makes all the difference.”

“Extra butter. Got it.” you nodded, crossing your heart and swearing yourself to secrecy with a wink. The two of you, with the help of Jake and Sam finished preparing dinner, moving everything around just in time for the turkey to be done as Ronnie and Jake's partner set the table. Once everything was on the table, you all sat down, squeezing the large family in at the small table. You were sandwiched between Josh and Sam, trying to serve yourself as both boys piled your plate sky high with food while talking to you and talking to each other.

"You gotta try my sweet potatoes." Sam said, spooning a big serving onto your plate. "The traditional casserole is too sweet, so i like to to slice them up, and do a cinnamon and honey glaze on them."

"They look and smell amazing, Sam." you smiled at his grin when you complimented his dish. "I can't wait to try them."

"I can show you how to make them, too." he offered, excited to share a recipe with someone other than Jake.

"I'd love that!" you reached over and squeezed his forearm gently. Josh cleared his throat, catching everyone's attention as he stood up with his glass of wine.

"Before we eat, I would like to give a toast." he started. "I've always considered myself incredibly lucky for the family I was born into. There's always been so much love and support for all of us and we never went without. I never really realized that something was missing until I found this one right here." he put his hand on your shoulder, looking down at you with a loving smile. "I can't believe that you tried to surprise me with my family on Christmas Eve so we could spend the holidays together."

"Well, you also had the same idea, so the surprise didn't really work out." you scrunched your nose up with a small, embarrassed smile. Josh shook his head.

"You still managed to surprise me, believe me." his hand came up to cup your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek before addressing his family again. "And that's what the holidays are all about. Family, whether blood or found, and being together with good food and good spirits. So I want to raise a toast to family, and all of us being together tonight, thanks to this little Sugar Plum Fairy. So I ask that we all raise our glasses to Family, and to our Sugar Plum."

"To Family and Sugar Plum!" the table echoed, and your face felt like it was on fire as you heard Kelly mumble something to Jake about you being another fine addition to the family after his sip of wine.

Dinner was amazing, the turkey was perfect, Sam's sweet potatoes were decadent, and Jake's mashed potatoes were perfectly seasoned and mouth watering. But the star of the show was truly the side of stuffing, Mama K being right about the extra butter. After dinner was cleaned up, everyone gathered in the living room, Ronnie stoking the fire in the fireplace while Jake and Kelly sat with a guitar and a harmonica, playing bluesy versions of classic Christmas carols.

"Hey," Josh came up behind you as you leaned agains the doorframe, his hands resting on your waist. You leaned back into his embrace, feeling the second glass of wine lulling you into a dreamy state of mind. Josh could tell by your body language, and held you closer. The spicy musk of his cologne enveloping you made you cuddle in closer.

"Hi baby." you turned your face and smiled up at him. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. "What are you doing?"

"Just enjoying the most perfect Christmas I've ever had." he sighed happily. "My family, my love, all in one place."

"This has been pretty amazing." you agreed. Josh swayed you gently to the beat of the music, humming softly in your ear. After a few moments, his mom called you both over into the living room and you and Josh got cuddled up amongst the family, enjoying the snowy night with the warmth of family.

Taglist: @lunaindigoraven @lvnterninthenight @allieisacrybaby @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @shutupdevvie @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvf @gretavanfleetposts @gardenofgreta @streamsofstardust @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @joshkiszkas @jakewhorecore / @tlexx @fictional-duchess @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @josiee-gvf @ascendingtostardust @joshkiszkatoothgap @andeejoness @gardensgatedaisy @kdarling1

[jatp-adventevent]

🎄 JatP Advent Event 2021 ⛄

Even if it’s a little late to launch it, here is a JatP Advent Event for 2021! Posting will start 1st December and will end 24th December ~

How does it work?

This is pretty simple: you have prompts for each day and you can post whatever you feel like creating for this day. You don’t have to do all days, and can post as many things as you want per day. Arts, Fics (Drabbles, One Shot, Long, Multi Chapters, Sonfic, no limit), Graphics/Gifs or even Playlist, Moodboard or whatever you can imagine (even cakes), you can post it. The only rule is it has to be JatP themed.

There is one prompt per day, you’re free to interpret it as you want. It doesn’t have to be Christmas themed, even if the prompts are. You can use just the title, or just one, two or all of the keywords. It’s up to you, just have fun ~

Don’t forget trigger warnings and use proper tagging, so it can be safe and enjoyable for everyone!

A collection will be available on AO3 too. Stay tuned!

Please, use the tag #JatPAdvent2021, so we can share your work and you can @ this blog too ~

If you have any question feel free to contact us!

The Prompts

Here are prompts for each days. Enjoy ~

Happy creating!

Day 1 – Dirty Advent

Waiting, Chocolates, Eggnog

Day 2 – This Bread is Baked

Cookies, Gingerbread House, Burn

Day 3 – Christmas Spirits Club

Cryptids, Elves, Magic AU

Day 4 – Late Last December

December, Last time, Angst

Day 5 – Edge of Eve

Christmas Eve, Preparations, Stocking

Day 6 – Finally Snow

First Snow, Snowflake, Hope

Day 7 – Get Frost

Jack Frost, Frosting, Getting Cold

Day 8 – Holidays are where my Holly is

Holidays, Holly, Decorating

Day 9 – I got the Tinkle

Bells, Singing, Dancing

Day 10 – Julie and the Snowmen

 Snowball Battle, Snowman, Ice Skating

Day 11 – Kiss Tall

Mistletoe, Kissing, Tree

Day 12 – Long Wishlist

Letter, Writing, Shopping

Day 13 – My Name is Rudolph

Reindeer, Red Nose, Costume

Day 14 – Naughty or Never

Naughty or Nice, Pranking, Helpers

Day 15 – The Other Side of Nutcracker

Ballet, Workshop, Twisted

Day 16 – Scrooge and the Presents Pushers

Nightmares, Coal, Scrooge/Krampus/Grinch

Day 17 – Candlelight Reflection

Candles, Matches, Warmth

Day 18 – Sunset Claus

Secret Santa, Exchange, Family

Day 19 – Crooked Tin Soldier

Toys, Tales, Dreams

Day 20 – Unsaid Santa

Secret, Confessions, Regrets

Day 21 – Voice of an angel

Carols, Angel, Miracle

Day 22 – Wrap up

Wrapping paper, Blanket, Dressing up

Day 23 – You got nothing to gift

Late Gift, Forgotten Ones, Boxing Day

Day 24 – Zero flying sleigh

Sleight, Fun, Shooting Star

[mimilind]

A Yuletide Reunion in the Shire

Summary: In an alternate universe where the whole Fellowship – and Sméagol – survive and find happiness, Yuletide is coming up and Frodo invites them to a reunion in the Shire.

Pairings: Boromir x Nellas (less known Tolkien elf), Sméagol and Lol-Nani-Ogg (Drúedain OC), Legolas x Kat (human OC from modern Earth).

Word count: 3060 words

Note: This was originally written as a bonus chapter for my long fic Cat of the Fellowship but can be read standalone since it contains no spoilers (except that everyone lives – which it already says in the tags). If you want to know how they all survived you can read the fic. :)

Tags: Christmas fluff, Fellowship reunion, friendship, everyone lives AU, fix-it, some making out, pregnancy (only mentioned).

Image Credits: Old Christmas cards by Jenny Nystr��m

❈❈❈

A Yuletide Reunion in the Shire

In a jingle of bells, they arrived in Hobbiton shortly before Yule. Nellas and her husband’s sleigh was the most fancy one; it was of black wood with gold lanterns and comfortable seats covered in rabbit fur, and drawn by a pair of headstrong chestnut stallions she had named Fred and George after a tale from her friend Kat's world. They had bought the sleigh in Rohan when the chilly winter rain they started out in changed to a heavy snowfall and made it impossible for their carriage to go further.

Beside them traveled Kat, Legolas and Gimli in a simple sleigh pulled by the horse Arod, then came Aragorn and Arwen’s royal one (but still less fancy), and last in line followed the smallest one where only the noses of Lol-Nani-Ogg and Sméagol peeked out through thick furs and blankets. The sleighs were flanked by two war horses and their riders; the rangers Éowyn and Faramir.

The horses trotted along the main road through a sprinkle of fluffy snowflakes, breaths forming clouds in the frosty air. 

“How lovely,” Kat exclaimed. “It looks like a Christmas card.”

“A what?” Boromir’s voice formed a cloud as well. 

He was very handsome in a fur clad hood, eyes bright and cheeks pink from the chill. Nellas resisted an urge to cover his face with kisses while telling him over and over again how much she loved him. She was learning the fine art of self-control and figured she had become rather good at it the past year.

“It is a kind of letter but with a picture. In my world we would send them to each other this time of year and they looked just like this.” She indicated their surroundings with a gloved hand: the trees shrouded in white; a robin chirping in a branch; a group of hobbit children dressed in bright coats, scarves and hats laughing and playing in the deep snow.

“It is beautiful,” said Arwen. “Such a lovely town.”

The houses in Hobbiton were dome shaped with round doors and windows, and the largest, nicest one was situated on a hill. They tied the horses outside and opened the garden gate.

A hobbit had been clearing a path from the door to the road, now he looked up with a huge grin. “Oh!” He tossed the shovel aside and hurried down to greet them. “My goodness, you came. The whole Fellowship will be reunited at last!”

“Of course we came.” Boromir squatted so he could hug him. 

“When you wrote about your wedding we just had to meet your wife and congratulate you belatedly,” Faramir added, squatting next to his brother.

“Well met, Samwise Gamgee,” said Aragorn, bowing elegantly.

“Strider! Uh, I mean, King Elessar! We didn’t dare hope you would be able to leave your responsibilities at court.”

He grinned. “To you, it will always be Strider, dear Sam. And I left Minas Tirith in the capable hands of my vice-steward. After all, I am king here as well and it is good to travel through one’s realm every once in a while.”

“Come, come, let's get you all inside. Mister Frodo will be thrilled, and my Rosie too, I’m sure. How was the journey?”

“Long.” Arwen yawned.

“Cold,” said Lol-Nani-Ogg from the depths of her hood.

“Fun,” Kat objected. “I love to see real winter again! In Ithilien it mostly rains this time of year.”

Frodo must have heard their voices, for the round door crashed open. “You came!” He nearly slipped down the stairs in his eagerness to join them. “You all came!”

A somewhat chaotic reunion ensued, with many hard hugs and happy exclamations of ‘long time, no see!’, ‘you look well!’, ‘has it really been more than a year already?’, and when they finally went inside there was another bustle as they crowded in the hallway, heads low under the hobbit sized ceiling while their outer garments and luggage were taken care of and rooms assigned.

At last everything was sorted and the guests urged to get changed and rest after their journey while the hosts prepared a festive meal. 

Nellas curiously entered Boromir’s and her room. It was small and snug, with thick curtains, an open fireplace and a human sized bed that must have been bought specially for the occasion. The quilt on the bed was made of strips of fabric in many different colors sewn together, forming an abstract pattern.

“Shall we try the bed?” she suggested.

Boromir smiled. “Good idea.” Stretching out on his back, he bounced on it experimentally. “Mmm, soft. A nap is just what I need.”

She frowned. “I did not mean sleeping.”

“No? What did you mean then?”

“I meant–”

His hearty laughter interrupted her and she jumped on top of him, straddling his broad chest. “You knew what I meant from the beginning,” she accused.

“Aye.” His eyes sparkled with mirth.

“You are always teasing me.” She tried to tickle him as punishment but failed because of how easily he caught her hands and held them.

“Always.”

“Lucky for you I love you anyway.” 

“I do not deserve it.” Still with her hands caught between his, he flipped her on her back and locked her arms above the head. “Now, were we going to try the bed?” 

“Yes, please.” She closed her eyes expectantly as he cupped her face and covered her lips with his. 

The kiss was intense from the beginning; Boromir’s emotions were always near the surface, especially his desire. As their lips moved together, he pressed himself against her with untamed passion while his large hands roamed her curves.

She reciprocated by stroking his shoulders, feeling hard muscle under the rough wool, and wished he would take his tunic off so she could revel in the sight of his bare chest.

Leaving her lips, he began a trail of needy kisses down her neck. His breath was cool against her heated skin, making her heart race and her body ache with want. 

He reached her neckline and opened the first button. “I like this dress,” he mumbled huskily. There were buttons all the way to the hem.

“I… chose it… with you in mind…” she replied breathlessly as he popped them open one by one. “But now it is… your… turn… to undress.”

He pulled off his tunic and shirt in one swift motion. “My pleasure.”

She looked at him with admiration. “No. My pleasure.”

❈❈❈

Sméagol regarded the bountiful table suspiciously. “It is all cooked,” he whispered to his wife.

“I can see that, and don’t you dare be rude about it.” She gave his cheek a quick peck, taking the edge off the words. 

The fat hobbit came over, carrying a plate laden with some whitish, fluffy mess. “I made mashed taters for you.”

Lol-Nani-Ogg gave Sméagol a warning look. “Smell good and look good,” she said in broken Westron. She had never bothered to learn that language entirely since they mostly kept to themselves, and at home they spoke Drúedain.

Sméagol forced a polite smile. “Yess, very nice.”

The hobbit had noticed his wry face and his grin became broad. “I’m only teasing you. Look, here is Rosie with your fish – raw and wriggling, just the way you like it.”

Sméagol regarded the plate of glistening trouts hungrily, relieved and pleasantly surprised. Turning back to the fat… no, to Sam, he said with warmth: “Thank you. We lovess fish.”

Sam patted his back. “Don’t mention it.”

More guests were filing in now, the taller ones bending their heads to pass through the doorway. Luckily the room was spacious and the table large.

Last of all entered Merry and Pippin, neighbors of Master Frodo. Sméagol didn’t know them very well, but they had been in the Fellowship too and seemed quite popular with the others for they caused a loud and hearty round of greetings.

When at last they were done and everyone was seated there was still one empty chair. The nice king looked at it, eyes brightening expectantly. “Is that for…?”

Frodo beamed at him. “Yes, indeed.”

The door opened a final time and a bearded old man walked in, hitting his head first in the door beam and then in the chandelier. “Why, your house keeps getting smaller, Frodo!” he grumbled.

‘Gandalf!’ exclaimed everyone – except for the elves, who exclaimed ‘Mithrandir!’. So typical of their kind, always wanting to be different.

The wizard’s arrival meant more greetings. Sméagol glanced at the fish plate, stomach growling. Was it never time to eat? He was starting to regret accepting Master Frodo’s invitation. Only to think, he could have been nicely tucked in at home with his wife, having all the rice-and-raw-fish cakes he could eat and perhaps taking a stroll by the river in search of birds’ eggs, but instead he was here among strangers, ravenous and feeling out of place.

Frodo rose, calling forth silence by tapping his glass with a knife. “I bid you welcome to Bag End and to this reunion. I am overwhelmed and happy all of you made it here! It feels just like when the Fellowship was formed, but even better now with the addition of so many new friends. But, no more talking; you must be starving, so without further ado: let us eat!”

Finally! Sméagol sent the master a grateful look and grabbed a slippery trout, sinking his sharp teeth into the tender meat.

The meal became more pleasant than Sméagol had anticipated; the food and drink soon revived him, and the others took turns talking about their adventures so nobody seemed to mind his silence. Part of their tales were quite interesting too, particularly the one concerning the master and Sam. Apparently the evil wizard Saruman had escaped from his tower after the war and settled here in Bag End, from where he did plenty of mischief in the country before Frodo and his friends returned. But they fought him bravely, leading hundreds of hobbits to battle and finally driving him out. In the end Saruman’s own servant sliced his throat before he too was killed, and that had been the end of what was now known as the Scouring of the Shire.

This had happened a month or so before Yule the previous year, and during spring the hobbits had worked hard to rebuild everything and restore the broken land. Sam had spread dirt that was a gift from the elf queen Galadriel, and thanks to its elven magic this year’s harvest had been the most bountiful ever in the history of the Shire.

“And part of that is what you are eating now,” he said, indicating his beloved mash.

“The potatoes are really quite good, love,” whispered Lol-Nani-Ogg. “You should try them.”

Tentatively Sméagol took a small spoon. The white fluff melted on his tongue and to his surprise the mellow flavor was really pleasant, with a perfect balance of salt and butter. 

He sneaked a look across the table. Sure enough Sam was watching him with a decidedly smug smirk.

“Not too bad,” Sméagol grudgingly admitted. “But we likess fish better.”

“We do,” agreed his wife, flashing him one of her radiant smiles that always filled his chest with happy flutters. He would never understand what she saw in him, but he was not complaining. Though he knew he didn’t deserve it, the Creator had blessed him in his old age and made him a very lucky man.

When everyone had eaten their fill they moved the chairs closer to the fire and as evening fell they continued talking. Sam served mulled wine and Kat – Legolas’ strange wife who used to be a cat – told them a Yule tale about a child in her world that was the son of the Creator, and something about a stable and a star.

“... and later he was killed as punishment for our crimes. So now everyone has been forgiven for all the bad we ever did, or will do in the future.”

“We are not from your world,” said Boromir. He looked a bit sad about that. 

“I think it works in Middle-earth too. That the worlds have the same Creator.”

He smiled wistfully. “I would argue there are many who do not deserve pardon.” He didn’t say it, but Sméagol got the impression he was talking about himself.

“Nobody deserves it,” she agreed. “But we get it anyway.”

“I believe you,” said Boromir’s brother.

“And I,” said Lol-Nani-Ogg unexpectedly.

Sméagol felt his throat grow a little too tight as the face of his dead best friend floated up before his inner eye. 

Forgiveness… could he really have that?

“Let’s tell riddles now,” said Pippin cheerfully, breaking the serious moment. “I can begin. When young I’m sweet in the sun, when middle-aged I make you gay and when old I’m valued more than ever. Who am I?” He winked and sipped his mulled wine.

“Peregrin Took, your timing is awful,” the wizard muttered, but not unfriendly.

The rest of the evening went by quickly and Sméagol could not recall many times he had enjoyed himself more. When he went to bed that night he reflected that he no longer regretted coming; he had almost forgotten how great it felt to have friends. 

Exhausted after the eventful day, he dozed off with his wife in his arms and slept better than he had in years.

❈❈❈

A cold heap of snow hit Kat squarely in the shoulder. Darn elf; archers shouldn’t be allowed in snowball fights. His aim was uncanny. 

“Twenty-two,” called Legolas’ smugly across the field.

“We’re still one ahead of you, lad,” shouted Gimli back at him, dodging as another ball was hurled his way. The dwarf used his own, special tactic; he preferred to catch his opponent and wrestle them down so he could pour fistfuls of snow directly in their face.

“Over here!” Éowyn waved for Kat to come down into a trench Boromir was making. She had nearly as good an aim as Legolas so she was a useful ally, and Boromir’s brute strength came in handy for the digging part.

Soon Team Éowyn had an effective battle machine going: Kat was speed-rolling hard balls, Boromir provided her with snow for building material and Éowyn launched a continuous barrage on the enemy so fast her gloves became a blur. At the other side, Legolas, Aragorn, Faramir and Nellas were forced to huddle in their snow fort, unable to fight back in the relentless bombardment.

This was Gimli’s cue. Sneakily he advanced on them from behind and pounced on Legolas. “Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven…”

It would have ended with victory for Team Éowyn if not the hobbit team had unexpectedly chosen that moment to attack. Everyone had forgotten about them because they had spent so long digging snow tunnels rather than engaging in the war.

“For the Shire!” they yelled in one voice, jumping up from the ground in several places at once. Between themselves, Frodo, Sam, Rosie, Merry and Pippin easily bested the surprised enemy leaders and had soon poured so much snow down their clothes they became chilled to the bone.

“I yield,” said Boromir between chattering teeth. 

“Me too,” said Aragorn.

“I count forty hits for the Shire,” said Merry. 

“Only thirty-five for us.” Gimli shook icicles from his beard.

“Victory!” yelled Pippin, making a funny little dance. “Well done, team.”

Legolas left his protective fort and stretched out a damp, gloved hand to Kat. “Peace?”

“Just a moment…” She swiftly produced the snowball she had kept hidden behind her back and threw it squarely in his chest. “There. Even!”

“Sneaky.” He caught her in a wet hug and kissed her with cold lips. 

“Come everyone, let's go in and have a second breakfast,” said Frodo. “I prepared chicken soup before we went out; it should be ready now.”

When they hustled inside, they found Gandalf, Arwen, Sméagol and Lol-Nani-Ogg comfortably drinking tea by the fire. 

The wizard gave the disheveled, shivering warriors a disapproving look. “Fools.”

“Foolissh, indeed,” Sméagol huffed. “We doesn’t like ssnow.” 

After a change of clothes and with her belly full of hot soup, Kat joined the group by the fireplace, taking a seat in Legolas’ lap to save chairs. 

Her heart felt full as well; full of warmth and love, and completely devoid of the stress she remembered from every Christmas in her old world. Here nobody bothered about costly presents or advanced home decorations. She could simply be. Just enjoy the peaceful silence, the pleasant company and her husband’s warm, comforting arms holding her close. It was all she needed.

Kat rested her head against Legolas’ chest, listening to his calm heartbeat and the occasional crackle from the fire. Her limbs were pleasantly tired after the morning’s snowball fight. 

After a while her eyes landed on Rosie Cotton. Sam’s wife was a charming hobbit lady, pretty and cheerful, and had entertained the others with an endless supply of riddles yesterday. But didn’t her stomach look slightly swollen? Under the thick winter clothes it was hard to see clearly.

She sent a silent thought to Legolas via the renewed mental connection they had discovered on the wedding night: Don’t you think Rosie looks a bit on the heavy side? Bellywise, I mean.

Aye, they are expecting. Sam told me yesterday.

And you didn’t tell me? she scolded.

I was busy.

Kat had to grin at that; the previous night had been rather intense. The crackling fire, warm colors and low ceiling in their cozy room had kindled romantic feelings.

She thought more about that night, eyes still lingering on Rosie’s discreet bump. As usual they had taken measures to prevent a such, but maybe… 

I suppose it’s a good time to have a baby now that there is peace in the world, she thought tentatively.

Legolas' arms tightened around her and he buried his nose in her hair, breathing in her scent. Aye, it is a good time.

I have suddenly become a bit tired. She faked a yawn. Time for an afternoon nap?

Good idea. He gave her forehead a soft peck.

Shortly thereafter they left together, hand in hand, to share another moment of sweet love and hot passion – this time without precautions.

❈❈❈

A/N:

Happy holidays! This is a standalone bonus chapter for my long fic Cat of the Fellowship. Welcome to read the full story on AO3 or FFN if you like. :)

[wendimydarling]

The Magic of Christmas

Title: The Magic of Christmas

Summary: Henry and the Reader go Christmas shopping.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x First Person Reader

Word Count: 722

Warnings: You’ll die of soft nostalgia and Christmas magic. 😍

A/N: Hello everyone! Here is my other fic for @toomanystoriessolittletime​‘s Christmas Writing Challenge! The original prompt was “Shopping, hot chocolate, kisses in the snow”. The song is Snowed In, by Conor Matthews (which I will share in today’s song post for my 25 Days of Christmas Event). I am absolutely in love with everything about this little ficlet, so I hope you will be too!

There’s nothing quite like Christmas. 

Every year, a mysterious filter hangs thick in the air, casting a sparkling hue on everything in sight. The feeling begins the moment November arrives but, if you’re anything like me, you want to give Thanksgiving it’s dues, which makes it excruciatingly difficult to wait for Christmas until afterward.

But finally, finally that magical time of year arrives. Nostalgia plays from every radio station, twinkling lights and evergreen forests turn the faces of dull-looking storefronts into cheery windows of hope and joy, and a chill sets in that turns noses pink, yet no one seems to mind. The atmosphere feels softer, strangers are kinder, and it’s as if the whole world is privy to some form of inside joke that leaves us with a shared sense of warmth.

A blanket of white covered the trees and bushes as we made our way carefully over the wet cobblestones, our arms loaded with bags of stocking stuffers, candy, and gifts to place under the tree. One particularly beautiful reindeer family made of glass was—thanks to Henry—nestled securely in brown paper, embarking upon their journey to a new home on my mantle. Henry’s arm was linked in mine, a sturdy and intimate support to cautiously assist me around or over slippery patches of ice as we continued on our merry way. 

Every now and then I would look up at Henry and he would look back, drifting snowflakes alighting in his curls and kissing my lashes in my attempt to memorize this moment. He had the biggest grin on his face, boyish charm aligning his features into the epitome of perfection. Ever the furnace, Henry’s green wool sweater and worn leather jacket were enough to regulate his temperature while I, on the other hand, was bundled in the warmest peacoat I owned, complete with fur cowl. 

We passed a group of carolers dressed in festive holiday attire, pausing to listen as they began a new song. 

There’s powder on the roof There’s tinsel on the trees City shining like Manhattan Storefront sleigh bells ring Everything is right For at least a couple weeks Sidewalk careless families laughin’ Now there’s just one thing

The gentle melody was so pretty, I couldn’t help but sigh and lean my head against Henry’s shoulder. He surprised me by taking our bags and setting them down on a nearby park bench, bowing slightly to me when he turned and offered his hand. I suppressed a giggle, shaking my head gently and accepting his request; he spun me once before catching me by the small of my back and I smiled brightly as we began to sway.

Can we slow it down This season can get so busy I’m grateful for the ones I love But if there’s one thing that I’m wishin’

I couldn’t help but romanticize how picturesque we must look to those watching. A full head taller than me, his dark coat against my pink and cream reminded me of the old black and white movies I grew up on where the heroine would be pressed up tight into the hero’s chest, desperate for a kiss. It was a pretty thought and I found myself subtly casting glances around us to see if someone was recording. 

Henry’s hand guided my face back to his, catching my eyes with a simple look that told me it was just us, no one else could possibly interrupt this moment, and we didn’t need a picture to remember it. He leaned down and surrounded my mouth with his, the gentle taste of peppermint and chocolate still on his lips.

I just wanna be snowed in with you This Christmas, this Christmas Sittin’ by the fire just me and you This Christmas, this Christmas If I got you here with me, then let it snow We’ve got nowhere to go I just wanna be snowed in with you This Christmas, this Christmas.

This, my friends. This right here: shopping for presents, dancing in the snow under the twinkle of lights with Henry, our breath steaming the air, our bellies full of chocolate and our hearts full of love; the anticipation of surprises, the excitement of seeing our families, and the promise of at least one day where the world isn’t falling apart.

This is the magic of Christmas.

[spiderman-homecomeme]

🎄Twelve Days of Promptmas🎄

It’s that time of year again, my friends! It’s nov. 1st!! 2020 Promptmas is here!!!

Under the cut there will be a list of concepts (caroling, baking, mistletoe) and a list of various pieces of dialogue! From these, you can make your very own prompts for each day! You could choose a concept, some dialogue, or maybe two concepts and a dialogue option, etc. Mix and match ‘em! You can write a small, three sentence fic, or something 10k and beyond! Whatever you want! We’ll start posting on December 14th, all the way up until Christmas Day!

Happy Writing!! 🎄

Concept:

Gift wrap

Shopping

Caroling

Gingerbread house

Lighting the Menorah

Mistletoe kisses

Fake dating at a family Holiday party

Baking

Decorating

Baby’s first Holiday season

Snowed-in

Watching Christmas movies together

Cold, sleepy cuddles

Making latkes together

Snowball fight

Ice skating

Picking out the perfect tree

Putting up lights

Fireplace cuddles

Secret Santa

Going to midnight mass

Ugly Christmas sweater party

Stuck at the airport on Christmas Eve

Holding hands while walking in the snow

Marshmallows

Hot chocolate

First day of Hanukkah

Playing dreidel

Peppermint

First snow

Outsider POV

Cross-country road trip

Drunkenly singing Mariah Carey

White Elephant gifts

Building a snowman

Work rivals forced to plan a holiday party together

Thermoregulation

Snow angels

Paper snowflakes

Apple cider

Superhero shenanigans ruining plans

Naughty or Nice

Roommates

Awkward family photo

Mall Santa

Opening presents

Meeting when last-minute gift shopping

Identity reveal

Sledding

Canon nudged to the left (Holiday Edition)

Eggnog

Homemade ornaments

Going on a sleigh ride

Making a holiday dinner together

The true spirit of the holiday season

Driving around looking at Christmas Lights

Candy canes

Festive MATCHING PJs!!!

Only one bed

Fuzzy socks

Festive enemies to lovers

Home for the Holidays

Christmas morning

Mittens

All bundled up

Christmas markets

Getting ready for Santa

Winter power outage

Holiday smut

winter proposal

Friendmas

Icy sidewalks

Getting a cold

Meeting the family

Kid fic

The only single people at the holiday party

‘Twas the night before Christmas

Apart for the Holidays

Late night shopping

board game shenanigans

Dialogue:

“Do you mind?” “What? I’m cold.”

“Do not throw that snowball.”

“No peeking!”

“Hey! Those cookies were for Santa!”

“Will you help me light this?”

“All I want for Christmas is you!” “You’re Jewish.” “So?”

“Your hands are freezing!”

“That ornament doesn’t go there.”

“You look like Rudolph.”

“Oh come on, don’t get your tinsel in a tangle.”

“It’s hand holding season.”

“The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear!”

“You didn’t think I’d let you spend the holidays alone, did you?”

“It’s snowing!”

“Listen, Santa doesn’t have to know about this.”

"You’ve ruined my favorite sweater!”

“It’s Christmas Eve, so that means I get to open a gift!”

“If your hands get cold, you can put them in my pockets.”

“Do you like it?” “I love it.”

“Are the lights out?” “No, I love sitting in the dark by myself.”

“Oh, I know exactly what you’re trying to do. But you will not ruin my Christmas. Not again. Not this year.”

“Is that a candy cane in your pocket or are you just--” “Yeah, do you want one?”

“Usually it’s just a kiss under the mistletoe...”

“It’s freezing out here! Let me in!”

“I want latkes.” “It’s eight in the morning.”

“I can think of one way to warm you up.”

“I love you, but your taste in Christmas music is horrible.”

“We’re stuck in here, aren’t we?” “Yep.”

"What’s Christmas really about?” “VENGEANCE!” 

“Hug me!” “Why?” “I’m cold and I love you!”

“Let’s make snow angels!” “How old are you?”

“No, no, no. You’re the reindeer this year. I get to be Santa.”

“Why are you staring at me?” “Nothing... You just look really cute right now.”

“The cookies! They’re burning!”

“There. All bundled up.” “I can’t move my arms!”

“Who wrapped this?”

“Stay in bed. It’s warmer.”

“Keep doing that if you wanna end up on the naughty list.”

“But it’s Christmas!” “...It’s November 19th.”

“You do know that Santa’s not real, right?”

“Is that... mistletoe?”

“Bah humbug!”

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Man, I need to slow down on the eggnog.” “It’s not even spiked?” “...Oh”

“You did all this for me?”

“You have frosting on your face.”

“I’m bringing the holiday cheer to you!”

“Where’s all your holiday spirit, Scrooge?”

“Why are you under the tree?” “Because I’m a gift.”

“Don’t let the fact that I’m freezing my ass off out here fool you; I’m having a great time.”

“You know... the older I get, the more and more I can relate to the Grinch.”

“I’m sorry, but you make a terrible Santa.”

“Where did you get that sweater?”

“Wake up! It’s Christmas!” “It’s 6 am, go away!”

“I can’t believe you dropped the turkey.”

“Do you wanna build a snowman?”

“Ha, this gingerbread man looks like you.”

“But baby, it’s cold outside--” “Absolutely not.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“National Lampoon wishes they had a Christmas this chaotic.”

“Why are the gifts wrapped in ______?”

“I thought this was supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year?”

“If you sing Jingle Bells one more time...”

“Next year we’re going to Florida.”

“No, you can’t change your name to Santaman.”

A note that while this is not just for Spideychelle, this is NOT for pedophiliac or incestous ships. 

Feel free to tag me in your creations! I’d love to see what y’all come up with! HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

[badassbabeparker]

An elfish Christmas (T.H)

A/n: Happy Christmas Eve! I hope you all have an amazing Christmas/day! This is a fic i had an idea for and ran with and I hope it’s okay 😂 I’m also planning on a part 2 but it will be after the holidays so lemme know if you’d still read it. I also hope the read more works cause I’m doing this on mobile 😅

Summary: Tom Holland is an elf from the North Pole and he works on making wishes come true every Christmas esepcially for one special person. That is until they end up on the naughty list and Tom is determined to find out what went wrong even if he breaks every rule in doing so.

Pairing: Elf!Tom Holland x reader

WC: 1.6k

Warnings: none i don’t think :)

It was the most wonderful time of the year. The small village was bustling with people preparing for the festive season. Even the string of lights that hung on every corner all year round seemed to shine brighter. The villagers themselves couldn’t believe it existed once the snowflakes fell, and made every inch seem to sparkle.

Tom was one of those people, more specifically called elves. He’d been born here at the North Pole, and that’s where him and his family had stayed. Of course, elves always had the option to leave, but it was very rare that anyone would actually want to. At Santa’s village you could get christmas all year round, hot chocolate for free and by being an elf you got the joy of making someone else happy. That’s what Tom loved most.

However, elf training was no easy feat. Firstly, you started off making tiny things such as wooden blocks or acquiring something like legos, and then when you moved up to a senior elf you could do much more magical things with presents. It used to be easier, when all a kid wanted was a rocking horse or a doll; but now it was all about technology that only a senior elf could manage. Each elf was also given specific people to make presents for, the number of which grew as they advanced in training.

Tom was still only an elf in training, meaning that he was limited to what he could make and he was only given one person to make presents for.

“Y/n L/n.”

Tom reread her name off the nice list as if trying to commit it to memory. He smiled and his ears perked up, turning slightly red as he saw her picture. She was beautiful. He shook his head and quickly pushed that thought to the side as he read her list.

Over the years, Tom worked hard to make Y/n’s wishes come true and every time he succeeded. She made him smile whenever he got her letters of thanks or what she wanted for next year. He sometimes wished that Y/n could know who he was because he was sure they would be friends, but she could never know. He was just an elf, someone that not many people even believed in anymore.

Eventually, Tom’s hard work got noticed and he worked his way up to become a senior elf. He had been so excited as he put his new hat on with extra jingle bells and made his way to the senior elves workshop. As soon as he entered he was already rushed off of his feet by someone who showed him to his work station and gave him a high pile of papers.

“What are these?”

“They’re your letters kid, get to work.”

Tom’s eyes went wide as he looked at the large pile of letters he had to read. He grabbed a hot chocolate and started his way through them, his mind keeping a look out for the familiar scrawl of Y/n’s writing. It took him all night until he finally reached her letter.

Even though Y/n was older now, she still wrote letters to the North Pole and Tom liked to daydream that it was because of him.

He smiled as he read her list. As usual, her wishlist was full of books and some technology that he could finally get for her but there was one thing that caught his eye. Y/n had asked for her prince charming to find her with a “lol” after. Tom’s face contorted in confusion as he thought. Maybe she was asking for a disney related item or something similar. And what did lol mean?

He’d even asked his brothers what it meant but they hadn’t had much clue either. That was until Sam whacked his arm lightly and laughed.

“She’s asking for a boyfriend mate.”

Tom’s cheeks started to blush without him even realising. “A-a boyfriend?”

Sam nodded and looked at him almost in sympathy.

“But that’s- that’s not something we can do.” Tom stuttered, his brain whirring. He always wanted and tried to make those wishes come true especially Y/n’s.

“We can’t do everything.” Harry, his other brother shrugged, sipping on his hot chocolate. Tom sighed and shook his head.

“There has to be a way.” Tom spoke with such determination that Sam was slightly taken aback.

“You can’t make people fall in love.”

His brothers both gave him a look and he knew they were right. From what he knew about love it happened spontaneously, it was never forced or made. It definitely wasn’t something that could be made in a workshop. And yet, Tom didn’t give up.

He tried everything he could, read every book on the shelf as if it might help him on soulmates and love but he couldn’t find any solution. Tom didn’t know Y/n’s soulmate and it was so far out of his jurisdiction that he felt lost if he tried to look.

So when the time came on the day before Christmas Eve to finalise the presents, Tom sighed and wrapped up her other gifts before signing a letter. He apologised for not being able to deliver on his promise and that he hoped she would find her prince charming one day, whoever it may be.

Letters weren’t usually allowed from elves so Tom snuck it into one of her presents before finally delivering them to Santa’s sleigh. As they went off on the night of christmas eve along with the other presents he had worked hard to make and give, he felt a little tinge of nerves creep into his brain.

He hadn’t been able to deliver her wish. What kind of elf did that make him?

Luckily everyone understood why the present had been hard to acquire and put no blame on him whatsoever even if Tom did upon himself. Y/n was still happy with her gifts and Tom hoped she’d read his letter.

The few years after that followed, Y/n’s letters to the north pole became more frequent and were always delivered to Tom as if she knew him. It was like having a penpal, and with each letter both their smiles grew wider. Tom worked harder to grant her wishes and even snuck a few more letters into her gifts but he became busier and he had less time to focus on her. He had even got accused of favoritism which he needed to prove wasn’t true (even if it was).

His letter became far and few until eventually they stopped all together and so did Y/n’s. She even stopped writing her christmas wishes.

Tom was confused and upset, searching through his pile of letters again thinking he might have missed her but he came up short yet again. He asked one of the other elves who looked at him sadly.

“You didn’t hear?”

“What?” Tom asked, looking desperately at the elf. His mind went to the worst scenario and he hoped that you were okay.

“She’s on the naughty list.”

Tom’s eyes widened before running over to the lists and scanning for her name. Sure enough he found it in big red letters and underlined. She was on the naughty list.

Tom shook his head, feeling confused. This wasn’t the Y/n he knew. Something must be wrong, he was sure and Tom felt a determination to help her and find out what it was.

He went to his brothers first seeking advice. They looked genuinely worried for Tom as he paced around the room, running his hand through his curls and wringing his hat in his hands.

“What if the list is wrong?” Tom asked hopefully, already knowing the answer.

“It’s never wrong Tom. He checks it twice.”

Tom sighed and flopped down, pushing away the hot chocolate that Sam tried to hand to him. His brothers exchanged a worried glance.

He thought about the people he had known from the naughty list; criminals, bosses, even some world leaders but not someone like you who was kind and genuine. It didn’t make sense. Tom knew you deserved presents and love and he’d be damned if let this slip out his hands.

“I’m going to go and find her.”

“What?!” His brothers exclaimed, both looking at their old brother as if he had gone mad. Tom only nodded and smiled with a new sense of determination before heading off to pack. Sam and Harry both followed him, asking questions but he only assured them it would be fine and closed the door to his room.

He wasn’t sure what he needed. He’d never been anywhere other than the North Pole. It couldn’t be that much different, he thought.

Tom packed what he could think of; candy canes, marshmallows, some spare clothes, a few of Y/n’s letters, a toothbrush and a few other snacks to keep him going.

Tom knew he had to go before anyone could stop him or change his mind so he hugged his brothers goodbye and left a letter at his workstation telling them he was taking a few days off. He knew they wouldn’t be overly joyed and he could get demoted but there was nothing more important than saving someone’s christmas spirit, Samta had said that himself. And Tom wasn’t sure why but to him in that moment you were his priority and he was going to help you.

He hopped onto one of the trains that lead out of the north pole, something that senior elves could use for supply runs. He took a deep breath and watched the snow fall as the train began to move. With one last longing look he waved goodbye to his home and started to reread Y/n’s letters.

~~~~~~

Permanent - @eeyore101247 @geminiparkers @darlingspidey @ameelia @calltothewild @parkerpeter24 @rebekkah4766 @peaches-parker @tom-hlover @parker-hollandx @call-me-baby-gir1 @cosmicvibecheck @outshineallthestars @theliterarymess

Tom Holland ~ @teen--marvel @musicalkeys @spideyspeaches

[jaskierswolf]

The Christmas Elf (pt.3/5)

Read the rest on AO3 and tumblr - Geraskier fic featuring Christmas Elf!Jaskier.

____________________

“Where on the holy star have you been, Jaskier?” Poinsettia snapped, her face was redder than the trimmings on her hat. “And with the Christmas Spirit, no less! What were you thinking?!” She squeaked indignantly.

Poinsettia was unusually tiny for an elf. She came up to Jaskier’s shoulder, even with her hat and her bell. Her hair was bubblegum pink and she had eyes like a chocolate reindeer, but Jaskier was well acquainted with her short fuse. She was a lot of anger bundled up in bells and sugarplums. Jaskier had still been a young elf when Poinsettia was appointed head elf by Santa. She’d been lighter back then. Spirit was still used freely back then and the elves had been the joyous singing delights that the humans thought they were. More recently the North Pole had been rather dour, and Poinsettia was the perfect example of that.

Jaskier rolled his eyes and pulled the snow globe out from behind his back.

“Just saving the North Pole Realm, you know, business as usual. Wow, thanks Jaskier.” He mimicked her squeaky voice, seriously how had she ever become head elf? “Oh, no. No problem at all. Just doing my duty, boss!” He bowed dramatically and presented her with the globe. “My lady.” He winked and licked his lips.

She gasped and snatched the globe from his hand. He smirked and stood up to watch her as she gazed into the snowy landscape trapped inside the globe. He tilted his head and brushed his fringe from his eyes and he saw a shimmer of Spirit glow under her fingers.

“But how?” She whispered as if speaking loudly would drain the Spirit from the globe. She gripped the globe in one hand and with the other she created a small flurry of snow flakes that danced between her fingers.

Jaskier shrugged. “A happy accident and a little bit of love.”

Poinsettia scoffed. “Love? Jaskier, we’re Christmas elves. We don’t fall in love.”

Jaskier put his hands on his hips and snorted indignantly. “Oh yeah, and who told you that?”

“Well everyone knows that.” Poinsettia insisted.

“I don’t.” Jaskier grumbled and tossed his fringe. “In fact I know the opposite to be true, dear sister. We can and do fall in love.”

“I have to tell Santa.” She muttered to herself, holding the globe to her chest, and scurrying off towards Santa’s Grotto.  

“Oh hey now, hang on!” Jaskier yelled and ran after her. Filavandrel’s lute slipped off his arm as he ran and he stumbled as he tried to stop the precious instrument from clattering to the ground. “Oh no you don’t!”

He cradled his beloved instrument in his arms and then looked up. Poinsettia was gone.

He frowned and stuck his tongue out, picturing Santa’s Grotto in his mind. When he was certain he had it, he let the Spirit loose and he was lost in a flurry of snow. When it cleared Santa was peering down at him.

He was not the jolly old man that kids thought he was, not at that moment.

“Jaskier!”

“Hello Santa, old friend.” He mumbled and gave him a wave. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“You just frost hopped.” Santa pointed out. “Care to explain?”

“I, well, it was an accident.” He spluttered. “I may have, sort of, stolen the snow globe.”

Santa nodded as if he’d expected this answer. “You travelled to the realm known only as the Continent.”

Jaskier gaped at the old man, nay the legend, before him. “How?”

“The snow globe is ancient magic, Jaskier. It is linked to me no matter what form I take.” Santa said gravely. “From the old gods, to St. Nicholas to Santa Claus. I know where the snow globe is throughout time and space.”

Jaskier let out a stream of syllables that should have been words.

“You have done well, little buttercup, but there is sadness in your heart?” Santa’s voice was all warmth and cinnamon sugar.

Jaskier couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t actually angry!

“I, umm, well, yeah.” He admitted. “I’m afraid I think I left part of my heart behind, sir.”

“Then what are you still doing here, elf?” Santa laughed his famous hearty ‘Ho ho ho’ and shoved Jaskier fondly.

Jaskier stumbled a little and squeak. “Wait what?”

“You returned the snow globe full of Spirit. Now off with you! Take a reindeer and go!” Santa chortled.

Jaskier was still staring. “A reindeer?” He repeated.

“Your heart is waiting. Come back in Winter. I have no doubt you’ll have plenty of new winter tales to share with humanity.” Santa pushed him gently from the Grotto. “I trust you have enough Spirit stored to enchant a reindeer, but be a good fellow and leave Rudolph. I won’t admit to playing favourites but he’s my favourite.”

“Yes Santa.” Jaskier mumbled.

“Oh and Jaskier!” Santa called before he could leave. “Take this.”

Jaskier watched in awe as a large snowflake formed in Santa’s hand. With the other hand, the old man gently tapped the top point of the snow flake and it burst into a flurry of snow. When the snow flurry cleared there was a second snow globe. It was barely a quarter of the size of the original but it was definitely a snow globe.

Jaskier whistled a low drawn out note and carefully took the tiny globe in the palm of his hand. “How did you do that?” He asked.

Santa just winked and tapped his nose. “Away with you, young elf.”

Jaskier grinned and turned on his heels. He conserved his Spirit and ran off towards the stables, waving to Poinsettia as they crossed paths. She was still gripping onto the original snow globe for dear life as she ran to the Grotto and seemed quite surprised to see him running in the other direction.

“I’ll see you in December!” He called. “I have to go!”

He didn’t wait for a response.

By the time he reached the stables he was panting heavily, and his lungs and legs were burning. “Oh fuck.” He grumbled and leant against the nearest stall. Rudolph’s red nose butted him in the head. “Oi!”

Rudolph’s nose didn’t glow like it once had but maybe this year with the return of Spirit, it would shine again.

The reindeer snorted and Jaskier scratched him behind the ears. “I’m not allowed to take you, dearest Rudolph, but I’ll be back in time to pack the sleigh. I promise!”

In the end he chose one of the younger reindeers, one that hadn’t yet been donned with golden bells and one of the special reindeer names.

“I suppose you need a name.” He said fondly as he stroked the reindeers feet, the Spirit pouring from his fingers over the hooves.

The young reindeer huffed.

“I shall name you… Greg!” He announced with glee. “A far better name than Roach. Who calls their horse Roach?”

Greg whacked him over the head with his small antlers.

“No?” Jaskier pouted. “Oh fine. How about Pegasus? You will be flying after all.”

Pegasus seemed to quite like that and nuzzled against Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Ok then.” Jaskier sang. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

Pegasus snorted again and Jaskier hopped on his back.

“Ho ho ho!” Jaskier laughed in his lower register, trying to impersonate Santa. “Merry Christmas!!”

Pegasus shook his antlers but kicked off the ground and they were off. Jaskier wasn’t sure how Santa or the reindeer knew the way between realms, Jaskier normally got distracted by the stars whizzing past his head when he was on the sleigh, but Pegasus seemed to understand exactly where Jaskier wanted to go and soon enough the now familiar stars of the Continent faded into view.

He grinned and stroked the reindeers neck. “Good boy, Pegasus. We’re home.”

________

Geralt had barely made it out of town before there was a surge of magic and blinding lights. He drew his sword without thinking and pointed it at the twinkling lights on the path in front of him. The only thing that stopped him from attacking was the strange jingle of bells.

Jaskier’s bells.

But it couldn’t be Jaskier. The elf had only just left him to go back home. The empty feeling in his chest was proof of that, a dull ache that wouldn’t go way no matter how many healing potions he took.

He scoffed. How had the bastard managed to get under his skin so easily? It had only been a few months, but he was so unlike anyone Geralt had ever met. So open with his love and affection that Geralt had let his guards down before he’d even noticed.

The lights in the sky grew brighter and Geralt snarled, holding his sword steady towards the crackle of magic.

To his great surprise a reindeer came barrelling into him. He dropped his sword and leapt to the side of the path, rolling to break his fall.

“Fuck!” He cursed and he scrambled back to his feet, only to be knocked down again by a jingly bundle of green and red.

“Geralt!!” Jaskier cried happily.

He scowled but wrapped his arms around Jaskier almost instinctively as he lay on the hard ground.

“You’re back.” He hummed not quite believing that Jaskier was there in his arms.

The way the elf had been talking, Geralt had assumed Jaskier would have been away for months, at least until after winter. Apparently winter was a crazy season for the Christmas elves, but here he was, back on the Continent.

“I’m back!” Jaskier agreed and pulled back from the hug just enough to stare down at Geralt with light shining in his eyes.

Geralt furrowed his brow. “Thought it would be longer.”

Jaskier pouted. “And I thought you’d be pleased to see me.”

Geralt scoffed. He was about to pull the elf down into a kiss when they were interrupted by a long set of antlers forcing their way between them.

“Oi!” Jaskier grumbled and pushed the reindeer’s snout away. “Pegasus no!”

The reindeer stamped its hoof and Geralt heard Roach’s answering huff.

“You have a reindeer?” He asked incredulously.

“I’m a Christmas elf, Geralt! How many times do we have to go through that? What else what I have, a motorbike?”

Geralt frowned.

“Oh never mind, you won’t understand.” Jaskier answered Geralt’s unasked question with a jingling wave of his hand and then helped pull them both to their feet.

“I am glad you’re back.” Geralt admitted and smiled faintly at the way Jaskier seemed to light up with his whole body. “Just wasn’t expecting it so soon. I almost ran you through with my sword.”

“Nonsense!” Jaskier rolled his eyes and swatted Geralt’s arm. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Hmm.” Geralt agreed, not on purpose at any rate.

“And Santa was proud of the work I’d done here. He sent me back to keep up the good work. Ooh look!” Jaskier pulled a miniature snow globe from his pocket. “I even have my own personal snow globe now.”

Geralt peered at the tiny globe. The scene in this snow globe was different. The original globe had had a small village of tiny snow covered cottages and even smaller figurines of people running in the streets. If Geralt didn’t know better, he would have said that this one was a miniature Kaer Morhen, but that was impossible. Jaskier had never seen Kaer Morhen. Geralt was certain he hadn’t even mentioned his home or the other witchers.

“What’s that?” He asked as he poke the glass.

Jaskier shrugged. “Some old castle. Something Santa picked out I guess.”

Geralt frowned. “Hmm.”

“So where to, witcher?” Jaskier grinned as he hopped astride his reindeer. “What adventures do we have in store? What ballads will I be writing next?”

Geralt grunted and mounted Roach. He didn’t answer Jaskier’s question. Truth be told he didn’t know where they would be heading next. He would follow the path until he found a town with a noticeboard or Destiny intervened.

“Come on, Roach.” He kicked his horse into a trot, knowing Jaskier would follow.

What he wasn’t expecting was for Jaskier to fly, literally fly, past him in a blur of sparkling glittery light, laughing melodically?

“I’ll race you!” He trilled from a couple of feet above Geralt’s head.

Geralt had no hope in winning against a magical reindeer but it was a race. He loved races. Roach loved races. He groaned and spurred his mare on. “You’re on.” He growled and they both sped off towards the horizon where the sun was just beginning to rise. 

[ryqoshay]

Promptober-2021: Happy Life: Making X... mas?

Primary Pairing: YohaRiko Rating: T Words: 661 Prompt: Christmas Parent Fic: Happy Life Time Frame: December 1st of Riko’s 2nd and Yohane’s 1st year of college (?)

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Author’s Note: Entry for Oct 25th’s prompt

Summary: YohaRiko make X... mas

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“<Making Christmas! Making Christmas! La La La!>”

Through the bedroom door, Riko heard Yoshiko singing in English, and rolled her eyes. Somehow, it didn’t surprise her in the least that come December 1st, the supposed fallen angel would be hard pressed to give up on her love of Halloween.

“<Cause when the full moon starts to climb>” The singer continued as Riko listened, amused. “<We’ll all sing out, It’s Christmas time! Hee! Hee! Hee!>”

“Yocchan?” Riko knocked.

“Kyaaa!” It sounded like Yoshiko tripped over something inside.

“Are you alright? I’m coming in.” She opened the door…

And stopped in the liminal space between hall and bedroom.

Amber eyes scanned the room before her. She had expected a decoration or two, but her girlfriend had gone all out. Shadows danced around, cast by a slowly spinning LED lantern on which Yoshiko had apparently stuck holly leaves to randomly block the light. A vampire owl, complete with cape, fangs and… Santa hat?, perched on a pile of at least twenty bones and pinecones, its irises contracting and dilating as though focusing on various things as its head turned. Threads of silk intertwined with thin red and green ribbons to form webs everywhere, one even had a pulsating cocoon at its center. That was all just what Riko noticed first.

And at the center of the merrily spooky festival was Yoshiko, sprawled across the pedestal that normally held her vintage crystal ball. Yoshiko appeared to have caught the ball, preventing it from hitting the floor. However, in doing so, left herself in a precarious position, face on the floor, rump in the air and skirt shifted as such to give Riko the hint of a candid camera angle.

Riko ignored the twist in her belly as she stepped forward and knelt beside her girlfriend.

“Are you alright, Yocchan?”

“I’m… fine?” Yoshiko twisted enough so she could look up at Riko. “Could you take…?”

“Yeah, sure.” Riko took the crystal, righted the pedestal and returned the ball to it before helping Yoshiko to her feet. Geez… She quickly reached forward to adjust the bodice of the other girl’s dress to maintain a modicum of modesty.

“Thanks, Riri.” Yoshiko grinned, adjusting her outfit further, jingle bells jangling as she did.

And oh gods, the outfit… Riko allowed herself a moment to take it all in.

Starting from the head, Yoshiko had both reindeer antlers as well as devil horns attached to the same headband. Tiny red skulls stood in for holly berries in the décor around her side bun. Strands of hair had been sprayed to look like metallic tinsel. The bells she heard earlier were also skull shaped and were attached to a ribbon choker. A black sleigh tattoo was on one shoulder while a green bat hovered below her collarbone on her other side. One forearm was wrapped in black fishnet while the other in sheer red fabric lined with white fur. One angel wing of red and a demon wing of green sprouted from her back.

The strapless bodice Riko had just adjusted was mostly black leather, with white, snowflake cut lace hung on silver chains as accents, as well as more white faux fur. Yoshiko’s waist sported another ribbon secured with a bow and more skull bells. Her red skirt was arguably the most normal part of the attire. And her legs mirrored her arms.

It was all… very, very Yoshiko.

And Riko couldn’t take her eyes off her. Each detail she noticed causing more to stir within her.

“Riri?”

Riko gave into the raw desire and pulled Yoshiko into a tight embrace before pressing their lips together. For a brief moment, Yoshiko seemed to reciprocate. But then…

“Uhm… Riri. We can’t…” Yoshiko pulled away. “We’re live…”

Riko turned to see the two things she had missed earlier. A laptop screen, with rapidly scrolling text. And a camera, pointed right at them.

Riko fled the room like a bat out of Hell.

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Author’s Note: I typed the bit about Riko’s amber eyes and immediately remembered that being a prompt from earlier in the month. And then decided to see how many others I could work in.

Also, I had a lot of fun coming up with the description for Yohane’s outfit. And I really want to see her in it. I’ll probably look to commission someone to draw it at some point; got a few other ideas ahead of it though.

[bolinshipskorrasami]

Like a Comet Pulled From Orbit

Author’s Note: Alright ghouls, gals, and gents. Been working on this fic all week to beat away the angst that AoaW left me with! My first (and probably only?) Lumity fanfic, minimally edited. I honestly have no idea how it turned out, I’ve been staring at it too long. But I hope someone enjoys it!

Read here on ao3 if you prefer!

Summary:  Luz takes Amity to see the musical Wicked in the human world. Conversations about shipping and drawing of fanart ensues, which helps both witches come to some long overdue realizations.

Like a Comet Pulled From Orbit

The winter air was crisp and cold as Luz exited the theater. Her nostrils burned for a moment as she breathed it in and her body adjusted to the difference from the warmth of the building. She glanced over towards Amity who was adjusting her scarf tighter around her neck, just a few steps behind her.

“So, what did you think?” she blurted out excitedly, unable to contain the question. She had been watching Amity’s reactions almost more than the show itself throughout the performance – Luz couldn’t help it. She was excited to share this with the other witch. For one, it was Amity’s first trip to the human world with her, so she wanted it to be a perfect and amazing experience for her friend. For another, Luz herself had seen Wicked on at least two other occasions with her mami. And listened to the soundtrack almost as endlessly as she had read books one through five of Good Witch Azura. Experiencing it through Amity’s reactions was like experiencing it for the first time all over again.

Amity didn’t answer right away, her brow creasing in that cute way Luz noticed it did whenever she was thoughtfully contemplating an answer to one of Luz’s questions. Luz always admired the amount of thought Amity put into her answers, so she always tried to give Amity the patience she needed.

In the meantime, she watched the crowd dispersing in the street and caught a snowflake with her tongue. It had started to flurry while they had been in the theater and a thin coat of snow littered the sidewalk and street around them. The way the snowflakes danced in the glow of the evening streetlights reminded her of her first light spell in the Boiling Isles. Despite being in the human world, Luz felt like tonight held so much magic within it, if only she could read the glyphs around her.

“It was really interesting… The music was so beautiful… you know, we don’t have music like that in the Boiling Isles,” Amity’s voice brought Luz back and she turned to face the green haired girl once more. Snow was starting to stick to the dark blue beanie she had borrowed from Luz to hide her ears – a detail they both might have forgotten, if not for Luz’s mama mentioning it on their way out the door. Luz thought it was a shame Amity had to hide any part of herself – but she did have to admit that her friend looked very adorable in the beanie. She might just have to let her keep it…

“Luz, are you even listening?” Luz’s attention snapped back to find an amused expression on her friend’s face. She returned a sheepish smile. “Sorry! Yes! I was also just thinking, we should find someplace warm to talk!” Okay, not exactly what she had been thinking, but close enough. She did notice Amity’s face was turning pink from the cold. Amity nodded in agreement.

“I think I know the perfect place, c’mon!” and with that, Luz grabbed Amity’s gloved hand and began to pull her down the snowy street.

 ***

 “After you, Miss Blight,” Luz said as she opened the door to the coffee shop with dramatic flair and flourish, giving an overexaggerated bow as she gestured for Amity to enter. Amity, for her part, rolled her eyes but let out a small giggle, which warmed Luz’s stomach more than any coffee probably could.

They approached the counter together, and Luz began going over all the different drinks and giving her recommendations. Amity looked very overwhelmed. Luz gave her usual order of a caramel macchiato (made with almond milk, of course) with extra expresso. When the barista looked to Amity, she simply said “I’ll have one of those, too.”

Luz grinned and took out the cash her mom had given her before they left. Amity took out her own coin purse at the same time. Luz laughed and placed her hand on Amity’s, pushing the bag back down. “My treat! I don’t think they take snails here,” she whispered behind her other hand. She watched as Amity’s cheeks reddened and she mumbled a thanks.

They sat down with their drinks a few minutes later. The coffee shop was fairly empty, which made sense given how late in the evening it was. It felt nice to have Amity’s attention all to herself in such a warm, cozy place, away from the commotion of the Boiling Isles, away from school.

“So, did you have a favorite song?” Luz asked, slurping at her whipped cream.

Amity blinked rapidly, as if she was coming out of a dream. “What?”

“From the show,” Luz added, realizing her mind had probably jumped from point A to point Z as it sometimes did.

Amity’s cheeks glowed as she replied, “Oh, right… Well… all of them were so good, it’s hard to pick a favorite.”

“I know, right?!” Luz agreed, nearly spilling her drink in her excitement. She caught it just in time and Amity’s laughter rang out prettier than sleigh bells. The sound made Luz’s insides squirm and for a moment she wondered if they had put dairy in her drink by accident.

“But… if I had to pick… I really liked that one near the end that Elphaba and Glinda sang together. I thought it was sweet.” Amity looked down at her drink as she finished her thought. She had taken the cover off and was swirling it around, as if she were in the oracle track trying to read a crystal ball or tea leaves maybe. “What… is this exactly?”

“It’s deliciousness in a cup! Try it!” Luz responded, taking another gulp. Amity sipped slowly, with the kind of poise Luz only ever saw in commercials when people drank beverages. How did she do things so gracefully anyway? She watched Amity’s reaction with the anticipation of someone watching their favorite grudgeby team go for a goal.

Amity’s face lit up like the stage lights in the opening number as she let out a drawn out “mmmmmm” of satisfaction. “It’s good, right?” Luz said for confirmation, grinning ear to ear.

“It’s so different from anything on the Boiling Isles!” Amity agreed. They sat in a moment of silence, enjoying their drinks.

“Don’t you find it kind of… sad though?” Amity said suddenly.

Luz tilted her head in confusion. “Did you already finish your drink? I can get you another one –”

Amity shook her head, smiling at Luz’s reaction. “No, I meant the show. I mean, Glinda lost her best friend…”

Luz considered this. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right, that is sad. But I mean, she had still had Fiyero!”

“Yeah, I guess… I don’t know, their relationship seemed kinda of… contrived. I mean, one minute he’s with Glinda about to get married and then he suddenly runs off with Elphaba?”

“No way! He was inspired by her the whole time though. And when they saved that little lion cub together… I mean, talk about romance!”

Amity scoffed, “Yeah, but Elphaba and Glinda had so much more chemistry, even when they were singing about how much they hated each other-”

Luz gasped, genuinely surprised but understanding now. “You’re a Gelphie shipper?!”

Amity looked like she didn’t know whether she should deny this as some sort of insult or defend it to the death. Probably because she had no clue what Luz was talking about. “A what now?”

“You know, Glinda and Elphaba, Gelphie. It’s their ship name!” Luz pulled out her phone and typed furiously until she had several bits of fanart sprawled across her screen. She held it out in front of Amity’s face.

“Oh,” was all her friend replied, her mouth accentuating the syllable as it stayed in place and her golden eyes darted across the screen. She regained her composure after a few moments, blinking rapidly.

“Well… yes. I suppose I am a… Gelphie shipper then,” Amity sat up straighter as she said it but her face held something that was difficult for Luz to read. Funny how she could read magical glyphs from an enchanted island but her friend’s face was, at times, absolutely indecipherable. “Is that… bad?” Amity asked, and Luz realized she hadn’t responded in an appropriate amount of time.

She gave a laugh, hoping to dispel some of the tension. “No! Of course not. I mean, who doesn’t love a good old-fashioned Enemies to Friends to Lovers trope, amiright?” Luz waggled her eyebrows suggestively for emphasis. Amity tried to hide her smile in her coffee cup, but Luz could tell her plan had worked.

The commotion of chairs scraping the floor and being stacked on tables suddenly penetrated their little bubble, reminding Luz how late it was. “We should probably get going – I wanna make one last stop on our way back to my house!” She informed Amity excited, standing and putting her coat back on.

“Lead the way, oh fearless champion,” Amity replied, a more reserved imitation of Luz’s gestures from earlier. Luz smiled and took her hand, leading her out the door. They weren’t even outside completely before Amity’s face was already pink from the cold again.

 ***

 Amity’s heart was beating so fast and hard as she followed Luz through the strange hard and slippery roads of the human world. She wondered for a moment if maybe coffee was poisonous to witches… then again, Luz hadn’t let go of her hand even after they had exited the coffee shop, walking quickly and excitedly chattering as they went. She supposed that could have something to do with it.

Luz pointed out different things that Amity might not be familiar with and normally Amity would be fascinated to learn about this strange new world. But the hand holding was very distracting. And her heart was very loud. And it was all a little overwhelming, but she really didn’t want it to end. She watched Luz as she spoke about human things like cars, traffic lights, and a thing called “Santa” they passed by. He appeared to be some sort of… demon maybe? He rang a bell and smiled too widely and made a strange sort of howling noise. Luz paid him a tribute – perhaps for safe passage across the road? - of the strange papers she carried around that seemed to act as the equivalent to snails in the human world.

“Where are we going?” Amity finally asked as Luz paused her tour guide-like speech to look both ways before tugging her across the road toward a small park they had passed on the way here.

“It’s a surprise! Don’t worry, we’re almost there,” Luz squeezed her hand reassuringly, excitement dancing across her features, making the warm brown of her cheeks glow in the moonlight.

As they entered the park and Amity began to look around, she realized it wsn’t moonlight at all. It was what looked to Amity to be a million different stars – or maybe they were light spells? – glowing in the trees all around them. Some of them sparkled in a kaleidoscope of color – red, green, blue, yellow. It was absolutely dazzling, unlike anything Amity had ever seen.

“Oh wow…” was all Amity could manage to say, staring in awe at the scene around them.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Luz said proudly with a big grin, as if she had personally produced all these little lights for Amity.

“It’s… amazing. What is this place, Luz? I thought you said the human world didn’t have magic?” Amity took her glove off and reached out her hand to hesitantly hover over the enchantment of the trees.

Luz gave a chuckle. “It’s not magic – well, I mean, not like on the Boiling Isles. These are Christmas lights. They use electricity like the streetlights around town.” Luz reached out and placed one in Amity’s hand, as if sensing her uncertainty. Amity pinched the light between her fingers, feeling its fragile little warmth against her skin.

“How strange,” she commented. “Everything here is so wonderfully strange…” Amity’s voice trailed off as she continued to look around her. The collective brightness in the trees lit up the space around them in a hazy glow. It made the whole moment feel more like a dream than reality.

“C’mon, there’s more to see! This path will take us closer to my house, too,” Luz said, breaking Amity out of her trance. Luz grabbed her arm this time, tugging her along.

As they walked, the lights morphed into different shapes and figures. Luz explained this was all for some human holiday and pointed out some of the different symbols for Amity. A candy cane. A reindeer. A gingerbread man (that one she was pretty sure that one was actually a demon from the Boiling Isles, but she didn’t mention it). Amity wasn’t sure what was more beautiful – the glorious and picturesque glow of the lights with the snow falling around them onto the trees; or Luz as she spoke excitedly about each light picture, sometimes elaborating with a story about her mom or growing up in the human world. Amity never wanted it to end.

***

By the time they got back to Luz’s house, it was late and they were both exhausted from all the walking and being in the cold for so long. Luckily, Luz’s mom – Ms. Noceda (who Amity had learned earlier, was not in fact, named Ms. the Human) – had already made up their sleeping arrangements in Luz’s bedroom. She asked them how the show was and while Amity said a few things here and there when asked directly, she mostly let Luz do the talking. Ms. Noceda was very warm and kind to her – which was more than she could probably say for how her parents would ever treat Luz. It made her feel a bit guilty, that she couldn’t return the same favor to Luz. But she tried not to think about that.

Which, as it turned out, was very easy once Ms. Noceda turned in.

“Buenos noches, mija. Good night, Amity. See you both bright and early!” she said as she kissed Luz on the forehead and waved at Amity. They were both in their respective sleeping bags on the floor beside Luz’s bed. When Ms. Noceda flicked the lights off, hundreds of stars lit up the ceiling of Luz’s room. Amity was left alone with the sound of her own obnoxious heartbeat. Where she was expected to sleep. Next to the girl she liked. Why had she agreed to this again?

“I still can’t believe you got your parents to say yes to a sleepover in the human world!” Luz whispered conspiratorially.

“Heh, yeah, I mean, no big deal…” Amity said, glad the lack of light would hide her blush. She may have left out a few details. Like how she had, in fact, used a combination of blackmail and bribery on Edric and Emira in order to get them to produce an illusion copy of herself for bedtime and breakfast. She was going to be doing their chores for a very long time.

“You know, I think this is my first real sleepover,” Luz said. Amity looked at her, surprised. “Really?”

“Well, I mean, there was that one time Willow, Gus, and I used the Moonlight Conjuring to take the Owl House for a drive…” Amity laughed, remembering the look on Boscha’s face when she had seen that on Penstagram. Not that hers had probably looked any different.

“But, I’m not really sure that counts, since we didn’t get much sleep,” Luz continued thoughtfully.

“You didn’t have any sleepovers with any of your human friends?” Amity asked, still somewhat surprised by this revelation.

“Heh… No. I didn’t really… I don’t have any human friends, really,” the tone in Luz’s voice pinched at Amity’s heart a bit. In all the time they’d known each other, she had never really thought to ask about Luz’s life in the human world or her other friends. And now she knew why Luz herself had never mentioned any, either. Instinctively – whether to comfort herself or Luz, she wasn’t quite sure – Amity reached hand out to grasp one of Luz’s.

“Well, I’m glad we’re friends, Luz,” Amity said. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be brave enough to tell Luz everything she felt for her – it felt too big, too fragile. She was too afraid of it breaking. But she needed Luz to know this truth at least. That she mattered. That she was grateful to have her around.

Luz’s eyes widened in surprise at first, but a warm smile quickly followed as she squeezed Amity’s hand back. “Me too. Even if you are going soft on me, Blight,” Luz replied playfully. Amity rolled her eyes and yawned, which made Luz yawn too.

They laid there, eyes drooping heavily as sleep began to take them both. The small part of Amity’s mind that was still conscious enough to have a coherent thought realized that Luz hadn’t let go of her hand, even as her breathing slowed and she began to snore quietly. In that moment, as she let herself drift off to sleep, she decided that even if she had to do Ed and Em’s chores for the rest of eternity, it was totally worth it.

***

The next day, Luz kissed her mama good-bye – she still had a week left of winter vacation and that meant more time at Hexside. That was part of the deal – as long as Luz kept her grades up and didn’t cause too much commotion at human school, her mami had agreed that she could spend vacations learning magic in the Boiling Isles. She and Amity packed up their things from their sleepover and met Eda at the portal. She gave them a ride to school on her staff. Luz was sad to leave the human world behind if only because she had really enjoyed showing Amity around. Amity had seemed so relaxed... Maybe it had been stepping away from the pressures of her life in the Boiling Isles.

School that day was hard to sit through. This wasn’t unusual for Luz, but it didn’t usually happen during her classes at Hexide. Her mind kept drifting away from the lectures and into the magic of last night. Watching Amity take her first sip of coffee, listening to Amity talk about the show, watching her experience Christmas lights for the first time…

“Hello, earth to Luz!” suddenly a hand was waving in her face. She blinked before looking at Gus and Willow.

“Wha- Sorry! What’d I miss?” Luz asked. Gus and Willow exchanged looks.

“You mean besides all of class?” Gus said. He looked down at the paper in front of Luz, which she had been doodling on.

“You better not zone out like that in Magical Plants today. We’re dealing with man-eating mandrakes today!” Willow said with a nudge. “What were you drawing anyway?”

Luz looked down at her latest creation. “Oh, it’s just characters from that musical Amity and I saw last night…” Luz suddenly felt like she wanted to hide it, like it was a private secret she wasn’t quite ready to share with the rest of her friends. Which was… weird. That was probably a weird feeling to have, right? She nonchalantly slipped it into her bag and stood up to move to the next class with her friends. Willow gave her a funny look but didn’t say anything more.

“Well I’ve got High Level Illusions next – what about you guys?” Gus asked as they walked into the hallway.

“I’ve got abomination next,” Luz said excitedly. She swore she saw Gus and Willow exchange another look. Then again, maybe she was reading too much into it.

“We’ll see you and Amity at lunch then?” Willow asked. Luz nodded, high fived Gus, and practically ran down the hallway to her next class, just barely avoiding a hall monitor as she went.

***

Abomination class went by much more quickly than the rest of her day had and she had even managed to pay attention to most of the lesson. There was the occasional distraction, like whenever she looked over to Amity who sometimes chewed on her pencil when she was thinking through an answer. She also must have gotten distracted when mixing her abomination ingredients at some point, because while Amity’s looked absolutely perfect, Luz’s had come out with an extra head and oddly misshapen. It wasn’t a total loss though, since she had managed to get Amity to laugh by trying to get her abomination to reenact one of the scenes from the show from last night.

She walked Amity to her locker after class – Amity’s abomination carried both their books – and they were first to their lunch table. While waiting for Gus and Willow, they talked more about the finer points of the musical.

“So, how was your date in the human world?” Willow asked as she and Gus sat down across from Luz and Amity.

Luz almost choked on whatever mystery meat she was eating for lunch today – she pounded her fist on her chest to clear her throat. “Date?” she choked out. Is that- did Amity think- had she really missed…?

She heard a strangled gasp from beside her and turned to look at Amity, who returned her gaze. Her face was as red as a specific shade of eye shadow she’d seen Eda wear once. She was pretty sure it was called apple blood – or maybe it was vampire blood? In any case, their eyes darted between each other and Willow, both stunned into silence.

Willow’s eyes widened, as if she just realized her mistake. “Oh – I just mean, um-“ whatever excuse she was going to use to save them all from this mortifying moment, Gus put a stop to it just then as he arrived at their table and took his seat next to Willow.

“Hey Luz! Do you have time to stop by after school today and check out some new artifacts I found for the H.A.S.?”

Luz finally swallowed the mouthful she had dislodged from her throat. “Sure!” she said. She then proceeded to shove way more of her lunch into her mouth than she should have, cheeks full as a chipmunk’s before winter.

“I- I just remembered um, I have a meeting with Principal Bump about my class schedule – I gotta go!” Amity stood up abruptly, bumping the table as she went. She disappeared down the hallway with alarming speed. As she moved, something dropped out of her bag, fluttering to the floor.

“Amity wait! You forgot-” Luz tried to call after her, but she was already gone. She bent to pick up the paper – there was a good chance she’d run into her later in the day and she could give it back to her then…

But as Luz looked at the paper in question, it was as if a firecracker went off in her stomach and her mind blanked out, like static on a TV, before the entire picture snapped back on, clearer than it had ever been. “Oh cramity…” she muttered to herself, realization flooding through her.

Gus and Willow, having witnessed all of this, shared a glance with each other. “Are you and Amity okay?” Gus asked, a puzzled look on his face.

“Yeah… I might need to raincheck you on the HAS meeting though, Gus! There’s something I gotta do after school today! I’ll explain later, gotta go!” and with that Luz launched herself from the table, vibrating with excitement and purpose.

As she fled the cafeteria, she heard Gus’s confused reply. “Sure! Good luck! Wait… what’s a raincheck?”

 ***

The school day could not end fast enough for Amity Blight. She needed to get as far away from this ultimate place of humiliation as quickly as possible. She considered skipping out on her afternoon classes altogether – Ed and Em did it all the time, for crying out loud! – but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Fortunately, she didn’t have any classes with Luz, Willow, or Gus on her schedule for the day, which was a relief. But what about tomorrow? She thought to herself. Maybe she could convince her parents that she was sick with demon flu? Maybe she could just convince them she should transfer schools altogether… that seemed like a perfectly reasonable solution to this whole crush problem, right?

When the last bell finally screamed, signaling dismissal, she didn’t even go to her locker to put her books away. Too much of a risk, running into Luz again. She needed more time to think, figure out what to say. She had acted way too weird when Willow said the D word. Why hadn’t she just played it cool and waved it off?

She didn’t see Luz and co at all as she made her way out the front doors, for which she was thankful. But ofc ourse that luck only stretched so far as Ed and Em came sidling up beside her.

“Mittens! How was your date night with our favorite human? Did you ask for her hand in marriage yet?” Em cut right to the point, looping their arms together.

“Yeah sis, tell us everything!” Edric’s arm fell over her shoulders as they sandwiched her in, leaving no room for escape. “Leave no details out! Well, except for your smooching, we don’t need to hear about-”

Amity could not handle this right now. She felt her face heat up to what could only be described as an unhealthy degree, embarrassment and anger both boiling over.

“QUIT IT!” she shouted, her arms flying outward, knocking the twins away from her. Everything starts feeling like too much and Amity feels pinpricks behind her eyes. She can’t go home, not like this. Not with Em and Ed teasing her the whole way. “I gotta go study at the library, let mom and dad know I’ll be home later,” Amity says quickly, willing her voice to stay steady as she speeds up her pace.

“Oh c’mon Mittens, was it something we said?” Edric shouted after her. She didn’t stop to reply, just kept her eyes forward, determined to get to her destination as quickly as possible.

***

As soon as she walked into the town library, Amity felt a sense of relief wash over her. She took a deep breath, the scent of paper and dust covered books grounding her. The quiet atmosphere settled her nerves. In here, she felt safe. In here, she can breathe and clear her head of the day’s troubles.

She spent some time just wandering through the stacks, keeping an eye out for new additions in her favorite sections. The anxieties of her day begin to shed little by little, clearing her mind enough for her to rethink the events. Maybe things weren’t really as bad as she had initially thought. Afterall, Luz could be pretty oblivious. There was no reason to lose her head about it all – it’s not like Amity herself had called it a date, after all.

Amity finally found herself in front of the romance section and, after looking around her to be sure no one saw, she tugged at “The Lone Witch and the Secret Room.” Yes, everything was going to be just fin-

Amity froze as she entered her sanctuary and the shelf slid shut behind her. Her bag dropped out of her hands and her eyes widened.

“Luz-”

“Hey Amity!-” they both spoke at the same time, their greetings smashing together awkwardly.

“What are you-”

“I wanted to see-” they both started and stopped again. The absurdity of it all helped ease some of Amity tension and she let out a laugh. Luz followed suit, taking a step closer to where Amity stood still by the doorway.

“Amity, hey, I’m sorry I know this is like, your space and everything. I just… I didn’t know where else to look for you after you left during lunch today…” Luz finally broke through to explain. Amity shifted her weight from one leg to the other, feeling a big guilty. So she had noticed her abrupt exit.

“Leave lunch? Oh, yeah, well, you know, I had to uh, I forgot to turn in my abomination assignment, and I didn’t want it to be late, you know-” Amity grasped for any words that would make this scrutiny disappear. Luz simply raised an eyebrow.

“Did you say you had to meet with Principal Bump…” Luz started and Amity felt her heart lodge itself somewhere in the pit of her stomach.

Luz suddenly shook her head, “You know what, nevermind! It doesn’t matter. What matters is, you dropped this.” Luz pulled out a folded piece of paper, moving into Amity’s space even more now.

Amity took the offered paper and while she unfolded it, she couldn’t help but be reminded of the time Grometheus the Fearbringer had taken her most cherished note and ripped it to pieces right in front of her. The paper, when unfolded, revealed her most recent self-indulgent drawing – a picture of Luz in a black hat and matching black robe standing arm-in-arm with a poorer rendition of herself in a huge blue gown and sparkling tiara. Amity was sure her face would explode with the amount of blood that rushed to it in that moment.

“Luz- I – I can explain-” she began to stutter, her hands gripping the paper tightly. Her vision started to blur just a little and she had the horrifying realization that she might just start to cry. How could she have let this happen? Why in the world would she keep this in her bag? Why hadn’t she realized –

“I think it’s some of your best work,” Luz’s voice derailed her bleak train of thought.

“Wait… what?” Amity’s eyes snapped up to look at the human girl in from of her. Her brown eyes twinkled warmly in the dimly lit room.

“Yep! But, I have to say I don’t quite agree with your characterization,” Luz said matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” was all Amity could manage. Her stomach dropped again and she readied herself for the rejection that was surely coming her way. It would be okay, at least Luz seemed like she would still be her friend, and that’s really all she needed anyway. As long as their friendship was still intact, she could handle this, even if it hurt.

Luz pulled out another sheet of paper. “Yeah, as much as I hate to admit it, I really don’t think I’m Elphaba, the most powerful witch in all of Oz,” Luz placed the second paper over the one Amity had been holding to reveal a new, unfamiliar drawing. Two figures faced each other in a somewhat reverent post, hands clasped between them as they stared at each other. This time, Amity was clearly drawn as Elphaba, her green hair poking through the black witch’s hat, her black robe billowing dramatically in what was clearly supposed to be the wind. Across from her was-

“I’m clearly the Fiyero to your Elphaba,” Luz finished, gesturing to her likeness which was dressed in green suspenders and button up with a scarecrow hat upon her head.

“You… think that I’m Elphaba?” Amity asked incredulously. It was not even the most important question to be asking in that moment, but it was the only one her mouth and brain seemed capable of producing together. She was holding a drawing… that Luz had made… of her. Of them together. Oh.

“Well, yeah, it’s that obvious? I mean, you’re a powerful witch, she’s a powerful witch. You both have that cute, goth look going on for you. Plus, she cares about fairness and I know you like to pretend to be indifferent, but I know you secretly care a lot about those things, too.”

Amity continued to stare at the picture, afraid to look away. Her brain continued to short circuit. Did Luz just call her cute?! “And you’re…”

“Fiyero, yeah! I mean, he is kind of her fearless champion and all that. Plus ‘maybe I’m brainless, maybe I’m wise…’ you know, it took him a while to figure it all out, too.”

Amity’s eyes snapped up from the drawing at this. Was Luz saying… what she thought she was saying? Luz smiled and in a perfectly Luz way, continued on a different train of thought.

“Anyway, I took some artistic liberties with the outfit. I liked the suspender outfit better, but thought the hat really tied it all-”

“Luz,” Amity interrupted. “Luz, it’s perfect. Thank you.” Before Amity fully gave her body permission to, she threw her arms around Luz and squeezed her tightly. Luz hugged her back without hesitation, a rumble of a laugh coming from her chest.

“That’s what girlfriends do,” Luz said quietly. Amity pulled back suddenly, still maintaining contact with her hands grasping Luz’s forearms.

“I mean – only if that’s what you want, of course. I didn’t mean to assume, I just meant-” Luz’s face went through about several different emotions so quickly, Amity couldn’t help but double over in a hearty laugh. All the pressure and uncertainly she had been feeling melted away, leaving her feeling like she was light and airy.

“Sorry, it’s just-” Amity tried to reel in her mirth and catch her breath, forcing words out, “-I’ve been trying to tell you all this for the past year and today you just… show up and call me your girlfriend. It’s just so… you, Luz.” Luz grinned self-consciously, blushing for the first time since Amity had entered her secret hideaway.

They stared at each other, this newfound revelation hovering between them, it’s own little spell casting them in silence. Amity was suddenly aware of her heart pounding in her chest again as she watched Luz take a step forward towards her. “Can I…?” Luz asked, in the same soft tone she had used that night in the woods when she had offered to take the weight of Grom off Amity’s shoulders.

Amity nodded slowly as she followed, leaning in to close the gap very slowly, her eyes fluttering as they closed. This was magical, she couldn’t believe she was here, with Luz, and Luz liked her back and they were about to-

“OOOOOH, Mittens in busted!”

All at once, bright light and noise crashed into the room from behind Amity as Ed’s voice broke through he enchanting atmosphere she and Luz had created for themselves. The jarring burst of their bubble caused Amity to jump forward, feet tripping over Luz’s and causing them both to topple to the floor. She landed on top of Luz, her head bumping Luz’s as she did so. “Ow – Luz! I’m so sorry!” Amity exclaimed, rubbing her forehead with one hand while she tried to push herself up with the other.

Luz let out a gasp of breath, “It’s ok! I’m good,” she said as she sat up on her elbows. She raised an eyebrow as she added, “Though I do believe you’ve fallen for me, Blight.” A cheesy grin spread on Luz’s face.

Before Amity had time to respond to that, she heard the sniggers of Em and Ed, still standing in the doorway. She shot up and whirled around on them. She really did need to find a new hideaway, didn’t she?

“YOU TWO, why are you here?! Get out!” She wished she could summon a fire spell without the fear of burning down the whole ancient library.

Emira walked past her and offered a hand to Luz, who was still on the ground. “Now, Mittens, is that anyway to treat your new girlfriend?” Edric for his part threw an arm around Amity’s shoulders and ruffled her hair. “Would we really be good siblings if we didn’t come check on you? After all, you were looking so sour after school! We were worried!”

“Yeah, but it looks like Luz beat us to it! Who knew the human had game,” Emira said, throwing an arm around Luz and giving her a wink. Luz’s cheeks turned pinker than Amity had ever seen them. She glowered at her sister and shoved her brother’s arm off.

“Get. Out. Now. Or I swear, I am going to summon the world’s biggest abomination to kick your-”

“Alright, alright, we’ll give you two love birds a few minutes. But mom really does want us home soon, Mittens,” Emira said, surprising Amity. She and Edric headed towards the doorway again, laughing together as they went. At the door, Ed shouted over his should, “Just remember to save room for-”

Amity took the nearest book she could find and threw it after him. He dodged gleefully and disappeared around the corner. She turned back to see Luz trying to hide her laughter behind her hand. She wasn’t doing a very good job, but the sight made some of Amity’s annoyance fade away.

“You know, I really should be getting back to Eda’s… King gets grumpy when I don’t come home and give him tummy scritches and Eda will probably be worried since I wasn’t at school to get picked up. I’m surprised they haven’t sent a search party out yet…” Luz said apologetically.

Amity sighed, but nodded. “Yeah, I really should get back home, too.”

Luz shifted her bag back over her shoulder, bouncing from one foot to another. “So… I’ll see you tomorrow at school? Maybe afterwards, we can do some Azura Book Club stuff?”

Amity felt herself brighten at the invitation. “Yeah, that sounds grood. I mean, good, uh great! That sounds great!”

“Okay, it’s a date,” Luz said happily. Then she moved forward and wrapped Amity into a big, squeezing hug, practically lifting her feet off the ground in the process. As she set her down and moved back, Amity felt the unmistakable feeling of Luz’s lips brushing against her cheek. The warmth of the contact spread until her whole face was on fire. Luz looked at her and smiled bashfully. “See you tomorrow, Blight,” and with that, she made her way out the door.

Amity stood there, frozen to the spot, her hand coming up to touch her cheek, as if she could catch the sensation before it fluttered away. Wow.

The moment was broken when, 5 seconds later, Luz came rushing back in.

“I almost forgot!” she said as she snatched up the drawings that had been scattered to the floor. She shook the one that Amity had drawn. “Can I keep this? It’s really good!”

Maybe it was the casual compliment or lingering effects of Luz calling her her girlfriend – her girlfriend – or just the adorable way Luz’s face just looked so genuine, but Amity experienced an unexpected surge of confidence. Before she could overthink it, she stepped forward, took hold of front of Luz’s school uniform, and pulled her into a kiss. It was a quick kiss – short, soft, and sweet. But when she pulled back, she felt satisfied to see Luz sufficiently dumbstruck, eyes widened and cheek turning pink.

“Yes. But only if I get to keep yours,” Amity said, plucking the other sketch out of Luz’s hand. Luz blinked slowly.

“Yeah, you can kave it. Keep it. You can have it!” Luz stuttered out her reply.

Amity grabbed her things, slipping the picture carefully into a book before putting it into her bag. She walked over to the doorway before turning back to Luz. “Coming?”

Luz nodded, following her out. They walked hand in hand out of the library and for once, Amity found it easy to ignore the twin’s teasing.

[platypanthewriter]

Yuletide Fic 5/5

Part One/Two/Three/Four/Five Read them as I post here, or all at once in Ao3 under peterqpan

What hadn’t occurred to Billy while planning for Santa was how long he and Steve would have to lie silently, waiting for the whispers around them to subside. The kids kept eating the Santa cookies, and then getting up to get more, and Will had the giggles about something. He kept wriggling out of the sleeping bags to put on more Christmas carols.

El kept sitting up at the slightest noise, staring suspiciously out the window, and Max wasn’t helping, all “What was that? Did you hear something?”

Jonathan’s shoulders shook suspiciously over on the couch, but at least he was quiet.

Steve didn’t let Billy throw anything at Max and El, and when Billy started to suggest knocking Dustin and Will out with blunt force trauma instead, Steve cupped his face with both hands, smiling at him in the light of the tree. They were scooted down far enough in the zipped-together sleeping bags that the edge shielded them from sight, their knees touching, and Billy let his eyes close as he leaned into Steve’s warm hands.

“Love you,” Billy whispered, almost inaudibly. “See, it’s romantic now.”

“It’s always romantic,” Steve whispered back, which Billy should have expected, honestly, from the man he’d had to flee earlier because he was professing his love loudly in the grocery store over Billy’s choice in mustard.

“Loser,” Billy sighed, squirming closer, and biting back a laugh at the feeling of Steve kissing his forehead, and his ears, and across his cheeks to his eyelids, and down his nose. Billy reached out and grabbed his boyfriend by the back of the neck, pulling him into a real kiss, but soft, so the kids couldn’t hear. “Merry goddamn Christmas,” he whispered, under the annoying, tinny tones of Marie and Donnie Osmond, apparently taped from the TV special. Steve snorted a laugh against his lips, and Billy could feel him grinning.

“Thanks,” Steve whispered, and Billy stroked his thumb over the base of Steve’s skull, and the shell of his ear, feeling the muscles move as he smiled.

“All I did was get out of your way,” Billy whispered. “But I get you tomorrow night, Harrington.”

“No, you—you did all this,” Steve whispered back. “I wouldn’t’ve thought of inviting the Byers. Or the tree. You invited Dustin.”

“Dustin invited himself,” Billy pointed out, and Steve nodded, squirming closer.

“You said it was okay,” he whispered. “I’d be...this’d be every other Christmas,” he laughed, a little catch in his voice, and pressed in for another kiss, murmuring against Billy’s lips, “Except for you. Love you. Babe. Billy Hargrove.”

“...I haven’t even killed you a reindeer yet,” Billy told him, his face so hot he could feel the blood pounding in his ears. “Jesus.”

“I love you anyway,” Steve whispered, kissing his face again. “I’m generous that way. Y’know. Even to losers who can’t even bring me a reindeer.”

Thank god, Billy thought, turning his head to kiss deeper, tasting frosting, and feeling Steve tremble against him, panting for breath. Thank god he shut up about loving me. Thank god he loves a loser who doesn’t bring him reindeer. He slid his hand up inside Steve’s shirt, under his sweater, and felt his breath hitch. Steve slid a socked foot over, hooking Billy’s leg by the ankle to sandwich their knees together, so their bodies were close enough to feel warm.

“Let’s sing carols,” Dustin said loudly, and Steve scrambled away, sat up in the zipped-together sleeping bags, and beaned him with a pillow he yanked off the couch, which had the fortunate side effect of dumping Jonathan Byers' ass on the floor. He yelled.

Billy should have expected the thankfully brief pillow fight, in which Will got the giggles so bad he fell over, Dustin took a three-pointer in the face from Max, and Jonathan Byers threw pillows at Steve, missing every time.

El smacked everyone indiscriminately, and Steve tried to be some kind of stealth ninja slithering around on sleeping bags while Billy called out plays like a sports announcer, but after they all flopped horizontal again, panting, the kid’s giggles finally petered off, and then there was silence.

It was time.

“How come I didn’t get a home run,” Steve whispered as they retrieved El’s bike from where Hopper’d slid it under the table, as Jonathan tiptoed off for the stockings.

“Didn’t hit the ceiling beam,” Billy whispered back, making it up as he went along. “Gotta hit the ceiling beam before it drops on somebody.”

“I should have got a penalty shot when they all ganged up on me,” Steve huffed, sitting out Dustin’s Commodore 64 games, and Will’s new markers. There was a photography book for Jonathan, and Billy waited until Steve wandered off to stick the two albums he’d bought him kinda behind it— Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, and The Police: Synchronicity. Steve used one of his dad’s ski boots to make an ash print by the stove, before helping Jonathan prop stockings up not-too-near the fireplace, so the chocolate inside wouldn’t melt by morning.

Max had new walkie-talkies too, and Billy sat them out with mixed feelings, wondering who the second one would go to—her mom?! He hailed Steve over to have him write a note, too—Dear Max, it said, I have given your step-brother Billy a little Christmas spirit, so he’ll drive you to get a skateboard repair kit.

“Why am I writing it,” Steve hissed.

“She knows my handwriting, dingus,” said Billy, knowing she didn’t believe in Santa, but also buying in, a little, to the illusion.

Steve looked at him for a long second, and then yanked him in for a kiss.

They’d barely climbed back in their sleeping bags when Billy heard bells, and thought really, Hopper? Fuck you. Really?!

El sprang up, stumbling sleepily over Dustin and Will to the window, and from their grunts and muttered expletives, possibly doing internal damage. “Bells,” El mumbled, squinting outside just as they all jumped at the loud thud, and scraping noise, and El turned to stare at Max and yell “It’s his sleigh! It’s his sleigh!” before peeling off to run out the back door to stare up at the sky as Max fixed a sleepy, but extremely suspicious, glower on Billy.

“The fuck was that,” she hissed, and Steve said “Santa!”

“Go away, Santa, too early,” Dustin mumbled, and Billy’s liking for the kid grew three sizes that moment.

“It’s not even two in the morning,” Steve whispered, laughing, and pointing to the digital clock on the VCR, but Mrs. Henderson, Joyce, and Susan all stumbled downstairs, shivering and blinking sleepily, followed by Hopper.

He hummed as he put the kettle on, rubbing his hands together as his kid froze outside like The Little Match Girl, looking for Santa in her pajamas, and Billy finally went to the door with Dustin and yelled “El! Get in here, you’ll freeze!”

She yelled something back, but it got lost in the arctic wind, until she ran back, shivering, and held out a half-eaten carrot like she’d found the Holy Grail. “They dropped this!” she whispered, and Billy dropped a blanket on her head, and walked away to stand by the fire as Dustin pulled her inside, and Will saw his Santa-given markers and yelled.

Steve came up and threw his arms around Billy, either out of joy, or the realization he needed to stop his boyfriend from murdering the sheriff.

The kids all milled around the tree, Dustin’s fingers actually twitching towards the games, but they all noticed the time, and stared warily at their parents—except El, who was wrapped up in a blanket in the arms of the main offender, her snowflake-patterned socks sticking out as she yelled something muffled about Santa.

“Guess we’re opening presents now!” said Joyce Byers, grinning as she watched Jonathan catch sight of the photography book, and Will sitting, cross legged in front of his markers, his eyes wide and fixed on their target. El found her bike and yelled, snatching the note, and Max frowned at the handwriting over her shoulder, then fixed a startled frown on Billy, who shrugged. Max's eyes narrowed as El ran to show Hopper the note, and Billy looked away, watching Dustin rub his face briskly and trundle over to sit under the tree.

Dustin passed his mom a package, grinning up at her, and she crouched to hug his head.

“You’re all insane,” Billy whispered, warming to the idea of Christmas, a bit, as El passed him more hot chocolate, even though Jonathan immediately ruined everything by putting the Rudolph Christmas special on the VCR.

“Euuuugh,” Billy groaned, leaning his head against Steve’s.

In the ensuing melee, Billy ducked around flung Star Wars toys, Legos, what looked like a camping tent, a Ghostbusters baseball cap, and a rainbow of hats and scarves from Mrs. Henderson, who’d apparently made some for everyone there.

“How’d you have time,” Joyce breathed, running her fingers over a pattern in brown and green, and Claudia Henderson shrugged.

“Dustin’s cousins never send thank you cards anyway,” she said, grinning and handing packages to Billy, Steve, and Hopper.

Billy squeezed his, blinking at her, and she patted his shoulder. If Claudia Henderson could brave the wrapping-paper explosion, so could he, he figured, so he edged around to grab Steve’s stocking, and handed it over. “I’m giving this to you on one knee,” he whispered, and Steve blinked at him, then stared down at the stocking.

Instead of pulling out orange after orange, as Billy’d anticipated, Steve dumped it over his lap in a shower of fruit and walnuts, and burst out laughing at the ring-pop Billy’d stuck in the bottom. He yanked the wrapper open and put it on his finger, admiring the huge cherry candy gem, and leaned to whisper “I do.”

Billy flushed and scrambled away to find his actual presents for his boyfriend, rather than watch Steve stare into his eyes, swirling his tongue around his ring-pop, his mouth already red from the food coloring. Billy scrambled half under the tree and yanked out the first aid kit, and the cold-weather kit with handwarmers and foil blankets, and passed them up to Steve, who looked startled unwrapping them, then fond.

“I’ll be ready for anything,” he said, and Billy snorted.

“Can you be ready for anything in Hawkins?” Billy shot back, and Steve beamed at him.

Billy’s Santa presents for Steve, the albums, had been snatched up by Will and Jonathan, he realized after crawling around. They surrendered them after arranging some copies in trade, and Billy handed them over to their proper recipient while Steve stared at the pile of presents growing around him, and agreed to give one of his new walkie-talkies to Dustin.

Which made sense, Billy thought, it wasn't like Billy even knew how to use the damn thing. He didn't even know if he lived close enough to Steve for the damn thing to work, and it was probably more important to Steve that the kids could find him when they found monsters.

Steve was wearing one of his new mittens on the hand without the ring-pop, and the matching burgundy scarf, and Billy sat and watched him as he opened the note from Joyce, inviting him for New Years, and grinned at her.

Billy forgot he was in the middle of the whole Christmas mess until Max punched him in the shoulder, and shoved the note Steve had written in front of his face. “This true?” she asked, scowling. “You’re gonna take me to buy a skate kit.”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging, and she stared.

“Santa is real,” she muttered, crawling back over to where El was trying on her new bike helmet.

Steve pushed his haul aside, pausing to blink at a wrapped package from Susan, and waved Billy over as he slowly ripped it open. Two packaged Hot Wheels cars spilled out into his lap—a BMW and a Camaro, and Steve looked delighted. "They're our cars," he whispered, grinning at Billy, his eyes sparkling in the lights from the tree as he ripped the cardboard off the backs, and touched their front bumpers gently together.

Billy shoved them down, hissing, "Don't make our cars kiss."

"But they're in love," Steve whispered back, bumping them together again, and Billy leaned his face in his hand and groaned.

He glanced over at Susan, sitting next to Max and El as El told his stepmom about things you could put in bike wheels to make noise. He couldn't picture Susan Hargrove going through the toy aisle, finding their cars, and he wondered for a wild moment if Max had, but that was even harder to picture. Steve kissed the cars bumpers together again, making a smoochy noise, and Billy elbowed him. He couldn't figure out what the cars had even been for—she wouldn't have given them to him—so the remaining option was Susan had shopped for Steve, intending the whole time to give him little toy cars in a mismatched pair.

Steve put both cars in his hand, their undercarriages pressed together, and rolled their tires together with a sly grin, and Billy smacked his hand again, reddening. “Okay, so,” Steve said finally, “—I didn’t know you’d want to come.”

“It’s fine,” Billy laughed, but Steve shook him gently by the shoulders.

“No, it’s not, but I gotta find you something better than what Bradley's Big Buy had, okay. All I got you was this—” he pushed a squishy package into Billy’s hands, and Billy ripped it open to find a soft sweater, clingier than the horse blanket Steve had pulled over his head earlier. “It’s the color of your—no, it’s not,” Steve said, squinting into his face, and Billy started snickering as Steve grabbed him by both arms and pushed him closer to the tree, then pulled him back, then walked him through the all the sprawled kids and around the other side. “There,” Steve said proudly. “It’s the color of your eyes.”

“I can’t see them,” Billy reminded him, grinning, and Steve stared at his mouth, licking his own lips, then groaned quietly in the back of his throat and stalked back to the couch, sucking on the ring-pop.

“Billy,” said Susan, holding out two rectangular department-store boxes with fancy bows, and Billy bit his lips together and sat down right where he was, lifting the lid on the top one. It was a button-down like he liked, the same brand he was wearing, in a deep oceany blue, and he bit his lips together, frowning into the box.

“Neil was busy, so I told him he didn't need to...supervise the shopping,” she said. “It should be the right size.”

Billy nodded, putting the lid back on, and opened the other, bigger box to see a wool coat, thick but tailored. He narrowed his eyes and put it on, and Steve whistled like a goddamn train. Billy ignored him, tugging at it and zipping up the front, and for once, dressed for the outdoors, didn’t feel like he was wearing an entire mattress tied to his chest. “...thanks,” he said, feeling his face heat, and avoiding looking up at her face by testing the size of the pockets.

“Don’t freeze to death,” Susan told him, sighing, and handed him his stocking. He pulled out Mr. T’s Candy Cups, and Nerds, and some oranges, and Starburst, and then felt something thick. He thought this better not be a fucking bag of coal, after she said she didn’t even think it was funny.

It was a pair of socks, warm and soft, and he considered them for a second before placing them in his lap, and reaching in to find a cassette of David Bowie’s Let’s Dance. He was just pulling out some Twix bars when Max dropped next to him, and he pulled his candy back towards him, narrowing his eyes at her.

“I got my own candy, dipshit,” she said, rolling her eyes, and fiddling with her new, shiny walkie-talkies. "The hat's warm."

Billy grimaced. "We'll get you the board repair kit."

"...he told you not to buy it, didn't he," she said heavily, and Billy winced, opening his mouth.

“Everybody done?” Joyce yelled, and Max opened her mouth and closed it again, gripping the walkie-talkie, but Joyce walked by and patted her shoulder, calling out, “Everybody done with presents? Okay! Go the hell to bed.” Max scuttled away to her sleeping bag, and Joyce prodded Hopper in the side, which he ignored. She cupped her hands around her mouth, shouting up at him. “Bedtime!”

“It’s morning,” Dustin said, snickering, but he covered a yawn, and Will walked over to his side of their shared sleeping bags, his arms filled with loot, and collapsed in a smiling pile.

“Fine, fine,” Hopper said, clapping his hands. “Everybody back to bed! G’night!”

Max opened her mouth, frowning at him, then sighed, and lurched tiredly to her feet, stumbling away. Steve came over and sat in her spot, throwing his arm around Billy, and sucking his ring-pop, and they sat and stared at the tree as the kids crawled back into their sleeping bags, Rudolph’s dad was terrible on the TV, and the adults all shuffled back upstairs.

“Love you,” Steve whispered.

“I heard those were invented to stop kids sucking their thumbs,” Billy whispered back, flicking Steve's hand with the ring-pop.

“It’s definitely been handy when I wanted to suck on things,” Steve said agreeably, and Billy choked, coughing, as Steve slurped away at his cherry ring-pop, looking smug.

Billy woke the next day alone in the sleeping bag, and tender where he’d rolled on his belt, and where the seams of his jeans had sanded his legs. He groaned into the soft blue-green sweater he was using as a pillow, and smelled food .

Nancy’d shown up, he found out, when he sat up like a groundhog blinking at the sun. She was on the couch with Jonathan, flipping through a different photo book in black and white. They both blinked at Billy, and then waved silently, and he waved back, looking around for Steve, and hoping Steve’s ex and her new beau didn’t try to include Billy in their conversation.

Steve was running back and forth from the kitchen, carrying plates and wearing an intent grin, and Billy watched him for a few minutes before clambering out of the sleeping bag. The others were rolled up, he noticed, and tried to zip his apart. He caught the ties in the zipper, somehow, and was trying to figure out whether he could just roll them together when Will dropped to sit next to him, eager to leverage his sleeping-bag-taming knowledge for copies of all Billy’s music.

Billy considered, aware of Nancy and Jonathan trying not to watch him repeatedly lose his battle with a squishy inanimate object, and finally agreed. “You figure this shit out and I’ll copy you the new Def Leppard,” he whispered, and Will hugged him, which was just—weird, so he waited until it was over, and walked away, trying to fix his hair by feel.

Lucas and Max showed up that afternoon, Mike was there, Billy registered vaguely, giving all the appropriate compliments to El about her bike, and Billy dozed on Steve’s shoulder in a turkey coma and let the Christmas carols float over him.

Just after he thought they’d left again, the floor pounded as Max stalked up to him and slapped the new walkie-talkie in his hand. “Everybody else has one,” she said, glaring at it, turning on her heel, and stalking off. Billy stared after her, wondering whether she honestly couldn't find someone to give it to. He'd seen Lucas', and it was twice the size.

“Ooo, I have one!” Steve said excitedly. “We can talk when you can’t get to the phone!”

Billy glanced up at him, and back down, imagining being able to call Steve when his door was padlocked from the outside, and bit his lips together. He nodded, and cleared his throat. “I, uh, yeah. I’ll...get some batteries.”

“I’ve got some,” Steve said, squirming away, then dropping beside him again to hand over an eight-pack of Energizers. “Dustin gave me some for mine.”

“...might use this thing a lot,” Billy said warningly, flicking the buttons, and Steve laughed.

“Good, I don’t wanna feel needy.”

Before everyone left, Billy got hugs from Joyce and Mrs. Henderson—he couldn’t think of her as Claudia, not when she was wearing an apron and reminded him so much of Mrs. Claus—a companionable shoulder-squeeze from Hopper, and a tense smile from Susan. El asked whether they could come back next year, explaining how Santa got lost sometimes without woodstoves, and Steve nodded seriously, agreeing to everything she said.

Jonathan shook Billy's hand like an awkward nerd, while Will tried to convince them to hang out and listen to music together, until El started questioning them all about music, and Hopper drug her away. As Jonathan, Will, El, and Hopper stumbled off in a hand-holding chain like Billy's paper-doll garland, Billy felt a tap on the shoulder, and turned to see Joyce Byers again.

"Jonathan and Will showed me the car," she said. "It looks really nice."

"They vacuumed it," Steve said, laughing and waving his hands, and Billy rolled his eyes.

"Steve fixed it so your battery will charge right, and changed your oil," he reported, and Steve laughed, grinning, then went wide-eyed as Joyce hugged them both around the necks, yanking them down even though she stood on her tiptoes.

"Thanks so much, you two," she said, sounding a little choked. "You're such good kids. You're such good kids."

Steve made a weird noise in his throat, and Billy's eyes skipped the stinging and went straight to blurry with tears, so he pulled away, clearing his throat, and made a show of lighting a cigarette.

"A-anytime," Steve said, laughing a little unnaturally. He folded his arms, unfolded them, and bit his lips, and Joyce squeezed his shoulder.

"Thank you," she said earnestly, and he nodded.

Billy threw an arm around him as Joyce walked away. Dustin glanced between Billy and Steve and saluted, laughing and shaking his head, and Nancy waved again from the car window. Steve waved back.

“We look like the parents in a Christmas special,” Billy said, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Steve, and waving at departing cars. "Like a sitcom." Steve snorted a laugh, wiping his eyes.

After they’d all gone, Billy leaned in the doorway between the kitchen and the front room, watching Steve pick up a couple pieces of wrapping paper, and sigh. He sat under the tree, holding a piece of Mrs. Henderson’s ugliest wrapping paper, covered in brown and orange angels that looked like a hollow-eyed Strawberry Shortcake. Steve stretched it flat, and bit his lips together, before crumpling it, his shoulders a little bowed.

“...you don’t think Chriatmas is over, do you?” Billy asked, wandering closer.

“What?” Steve laughed, his eyes lowered. “I mean, it’s still the 25th. I guess. Christmas until midnight.”

“Yeah, that too,” Billy agreed, coming up behind him to reach around with both arms and take the sad crumpled Christmas paper away. He tossed it behind the tree, and Steve snorted a laugh, leaning back into his arms. “But we haven’t even gotten our best present yet,” he whispered, letting his breath tickle Steve’s ear, so he shivered. “This is the part I’ve been waiting for.” Steve opened his mouth, shrugging, and Billy yanked him around so they were nose to nose. “I got the biggest present under the tree,” Billy hissed, “—and I’ve been so patient, don’t you dare tell me Christmas is over now.”

Steve grinned at him, wide and delighted, and Billy squished his face with both hands, making his grin kissable.

Having had plenty of time to plan, Billy grabbed one of the sleeping bags, unrolled it, and tossed it under the tree, towards the fire. Steve pulled him over for a deeper kiss this time, soft and exploratory, as though he didn’t know every hitch of Billy’s breath, and the way he trembled when Steve bit gently at his lower lip, and let it pull through his teeth. “Jesus god of reindeer,” Billy whispered muzzily, and Steve burst out laughing.

“What,” he said. “What?”

“You,” Billy said hoarsely, and cleared his throat, trying to remember his script. “You wanna put on, like, your Christmas songs. Or—or movies. Or something.”

“...you wanna fuck me to Rudolph?” Steve asked, looking a little weirded out, and Billy gritted his teeth, and committed, for the sake of love.

“You want your Christmas shit playing when you get presents, right.”

“...jesus,” Steve whispered, head cocked like Billy was crazy, but beaming all the same. “Uh.” He flushed, biting his lips as he narrowed his eyes at the TV and VCR, and then the tape player. “Uh, just music, maybe.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about Rudolph,” Billy grimaced, imagining the little reindeer’s nasal tones, and the nitwit misfit song. “I mean, if you want to, but I’m gonna...good thing I already know how fucking weird you are—”

“I didn’t come up with—with this Rudolph sex orgy idea,” Steve hissed back, poking him in the chest.

Billy shrugged, rubbing it. “I really don’t know what’s weirder about that than listening to, like, The Carpenters, or John Denver and the Muppets,” he said, waiting while Steve blew the dust off the record player, and frowned between The Jackson 5 Christmas Album and A Partridge Family Christmas Card. “Or those,” Billy said, making a face at little Michael Jackson, and sitting on the sleeping bag, waiting while his dick strained against the inside of his jeans.

“Just don’t think too much about it,” Steve muttered, crouching down to put on A Partridge Family with pink cheeks, and Billy waited until the speakers crackled and Mr. Partridge started singing to grab Steve around the waist.

Billy pulled his boyfriend's butt half into his lap, where he could slide his hands up Steve’s sides, lifting his sweater and shirt, and kissing the skin between his shoulder blades. Steve laughed, and leaned his head back against Billy’s shoulder for a kiss. Billy gave him one—then two—then stared at Steve’s startled grin, and sighed, brushing their lips together as the magnetic pull hauled him back in, and Steve gave a muffled laugh and a contented noise deep in his throat, closing his eyes. He tasted sweet, like the cookies he’d been eating, even sweeter than usual, and Billy groaned and shoved Steve forward again in order to push his sweater and shirt up over his shoulders, white from winter, and scattered with birthmarks. Billy kissed a few of them.

“Better keep me warm,” Steve whispered, curling up in his arms, and Billy pulled him in as tight as he could, burying his probably goofy-looking grin in Steve’s hair.

“Oh, I’ll warm you up,” he whispered, and Steve snickered, relaxed against him as Billy slid his hands around Steve's waist, and down to undo his boyfriend’s jeans. Steve groaned, shivering as Billy pulled his cock out—it was already satisfyingly hard in his hand, and Billy rubbed the edge of his thumb across it, so Steve grunted and squirmed in his lap. “...guess the Partridge Family really does it for you,” Billy whispered.

“Shut your face,” Steve mumbled, panting. “You do it for me, we could be—we could be listening to like. Bird calls, I don’t give a fuck—”

“You saying Tweety Bird gets your motor running,” Billy whispered back, and Steve elbowed him, mostly hitting sweater.

“Fuck you,” he hissed, his hips jerking so his dick bumped against Billy’s thumb again, into his hand, and Billy squeezed it, the wetness letting his thumb slide easily over the tip. “Oh jesus,” Steve whispered. “God…”

“Lay down,” Billy said, biting his shoulder gently, and Steve arched against him, groaning. “Come on, your majesty, I’m not even done unwrapping you yet.”

“...nerd,” Steve snorted, panting, but he let himself be pressed back onto the sleeping bag, his cock sliding against Billy’s hand as Billy held him down, gently, by the lower belly, tugging his jeans off. Steve bent his legs up to let Billy yank the legs off without having to move, and Billy laughed as he tugged Steve’s socks off, and tossed them away. Steve grinned up at him, his face lit by the lights on the tree, making him look a little starry.

“There,” Billy said, rubbing his free hand up Steve’s thigh. He leaned in to kiss his boyfriend’s naked dick, and Steve yelped, moaning in the back of his throat.

“What—about you,” he grunted, his voice a little rough. “You gonna raw me in your jeans?”

He sounded hungry at the thought, and Billy filed that away for later. “Nah,” he whispered, swinging a leg over so he was sitting across his boyfriend’s thighs. “Thought I’d make you watch me, for a bit,” he said, sliding two fingers in his mouth, and sucking on them.

Steve muttered “Oh, shit,” and propped himself up on his elbows.

“Now you got me in this damn...Mr. Rogers sweater,” Billy said, keeping his voice low as he drug his fingers down it, Steve’s gaze fixed on them as his dick leaked.

“Don’t talk about Mr. Rogers, gross,” he whispered, and Billy grinned, swinging his hips a little from side to side so Steve's naked thighs could feel the warmth of his ass through jeans. “Jesus,” Steve muttered, clenching his fists as Billy slid both hands around his own waist just under the edge of the sweater, lifting them up underneath against his sides, and Steve laughed a little unevenly, his eyes widening.

Billy lifted the sweater a little more, running his fingers lightly over his abs, and then his pecs as they flexed with his arms up in the damn sweater, and Steve swallowed visibly. Billy pulled the sweater off his shoulders and head, shaking his hair back, and flexed his arms as he pulled the sweater sleeves off.

Steve threw his head back laughing. “Love you,” he said, always picking the weirdest times.

“We’re boning to the Partridge Family,” Billy hissed, instantly irritated. “If this fuckery isn’t love I don’t know what is.”

“I know,” Steve said, his smile soft even as his cock dripped on his belly. “Thanks for boning me to the Partridge Family.”

“Shut the hell up, I’m stripping,” Billy growled, and Steve started laughing again, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes, and Billy swore and leaned in to kiss him, flattening him to the ground, and wiping the wetness away from his boyfriend’s eyes with his knuckles. “The fuck is wrong with you,” he muttered, and Steve snickered, sniffling. “You want me to hurry up?”

“No,” Steve laughed, swallowing a suspicious gulping sound, and Billy frowned harder. “I just like this,” Steve whispered, laughing, his eyes welling up again. “I like this Christmas.”

“Are you gonna do this every year?” Billy asked in horror, imagining his boyfriend crying through sex while puppets wailed in the background, and Steve laughed harder, wiping his face.

“You saying you’re gonna bone me under the tree every year?” he asked, and Billy felt his face heat. Steve grinned, reaching up to tuck Billy’s curls out of his face, behind his ear. “In sickness and in health?”

“Why are you so weird,” Billy groaned, rocking his hips, so Steve grunted, closing his eyes. “Yes. Yeah. Next year we’ll fuck to Frosty, can I get back to stripping now?”

“Yeah,” Steve laughed, sniffling. “I love you. Yeah.”

“Christ,” Billy muttered, wiping his boyfriend’s eyes and cheeks again, his own eyes stinging a little—probably with embarrassment, he thought, fairly sure he was gonna get a half-chub every time he heard the Partridge Family playing, for the rest of his life.

Steve was still hard, at least—which was more disconcerting than anything—so Billy sighed, and rolled his hips again, as a reset. Every time he did, his fly brushed the bottom of Steve’s dick, and he groaned, rocking his head back against the sleeping bag. He was starting to sweat, and the light of the tree made him glisten.

“Look at me,” Billy told him, and Steve folded his arms behind his head to see. Billy ran his fingers up his new blue shirt—cupping his sides like his hands were Steve’s, and then running his hands up along the buttons to undo the first one.

“Never seen you with your shirt all the way on before,” Steve whispered, his eyes fond, and Billy snorted.

“Can’t let up on the advertising campaign,” he said. “Gotta show you the goods.”

“No, you don’t,” Steve reached down to squeeze Billy’s thigh through his jeans. Billy undid another button, parting the fabric over his collarbones, and running his hands down his neck, and Steve leaned his head on one shoulder, smiling up. “I’m not gonna...forget, jesus,” he whispered. “Never gonna forget what you look like, babe.”

Billy grabbed the sweater and leaned in to lift Steve’s head into a kiss, tucking the sweater behind it as a pillow.

“God,” Steve whispered against his mouth, running his hands over Billy’s half-unbuttoned shirt.

Billy sat back upright again, while Steve groaned and grabbed at his shirt as he pulled away. Billy undid another button, letting his nails scrape along his skin as he scooped his pendant into his mouth, swaying his hips. He slid his fingers down over the remaining buttons to brush over the edge of his belt, raising his eyebrows at Steve, who laughed, panting.

“Yeah, I’m watching, loverboy.” Steve leaned back on one elbow, smiling smugly, and Billy watched the low golden light on his boyfriend’s face and hair.

Billy ran his fingers over his fly, and down in his pants, tugging his shirt tails out one by one, and swayed his hips in a slow figure-eight as Steve bucked a little under him, grinning.

“Gonna be New Years by the time you’re done, jesus,” Steve said, his gaze riveted to Billy’s hands.

“Can’t keep it up, there, pretty boy?” Billy asked, arching his back as he undid the lowest button, and then parted his shirt like a curtain and undid the one above it to show his taut belly and the trail of hair leading into his jeans.

“Not the problem,” Steve said through gritted teeth, the fingers on his free hand digging into Billy’s thighs.

Billy stopped, looking down to unbutton his cuff and roll it up a couple of times, humming carelessly as Steve squirmed under him, smacking his leg.

“Hurry up, you bastard,” he demanded, and Billy smiled, unbuttoning the other cuff.

“You gonna ask nicely?” he asked, and Steve laughed, shifting under him with a grimace. “You’re leaking like a hose connection with a bad washer.”

“Shut up,” Steve hissed. “Like you aren’t making me.”

“Maybe I should stop,” Billy said, stretching so his shirt lifted.

“Please, please, you dickhead,” Steve broke. “My legs are fucking going to sleep, and my dick’s gonna explode—”

“Thought you loved me,” Billy said, licking his lips, and leaning in so his stomach brushed Steve’s dick. Steve yelped, groaning, and bucking up into the friction. “Isn’t that what you were saying earlier? King Steve, the chosen one?”

“Love you a lot more if you let me touch,” Steve growled, laughing. As Billy sat up, Steve reached out and yanked at his belt, and Billy laughed, smacking Steve’s hand away.

“Thought you didn’t want Christmas to be over,” Billy whispered, and Steve laughed harder, his cock dripping across his stomach.

“Yeah,” he admitted, leaning back with a shaky breath. “Yeah, I don’t. Never want this to be over.” His knuckles went white as his fingers tightened on Billy’s swaying thighs.

The Partridge Family switched to Winter Wonderland, and Billy’s side was warmed by the fire. He knew the light of it gilded his hair and skin as he flexed his bare forearms, sliding a finger under the leather strap of his belt as Steve groaned.

Billy flicked it out of the belt loops, tugging it off the tongue of the buckle and slowly drawing it loose over his fly. Steve twitched under him, swallowing back a noise as Billy’s jeans brushed his cock. “You want me to fuck you?” Billy asked, undoing the buttons of his jeans one-by-one so Steve could see he was going commando, and pressing his thumb and forefinger together in a tight circle over his own dick, so Steve’s bounced untouched on his stomach.

“Holy shit,” Steve breathed, looking him over, and Billy grinned.

“Want me to do all the work,” Billy whispered, swaying his hips with the music, “—so all you have to do is lie there?”

“Anything,” Steve said. “Love you, jesus.”

Billy’s hand stuttered, and he leaned forward again, bracing himself over Steve’s chest. “Tell me,” he said. “You want me to ride you? What?”

“I want everything,” Steve said, his eyes wide and soft, and then he grinned. “I mean, we got so many leftovers to get through. Whatever we don’t do now—”

“How can you be such a romantic and such a shithead,” Billy muttered, reaching down to squeeze his boyfriend’s hand.

“Fuck me just like that,” Steve said. “Your party jeans and that shirt. You look like—you’re a wet dream, jesus.” Billy grinned, cocking his head and licking his lips, and Steve laughed shakily. “Yeah, come on, asshole,” he whispered. “Billy.”

“Yeah,” Billy said, scrounging around in the back of the TV cabinet where he’d hidden the lube, and pulling the condom out of his back pocket. He squirted some lube in his hand, and pushed Steve’s legs up to slide his hand between them, watching him squirm against the cold.

“Warm it up, dickhead,” Steve muttered, grabbing his wrist, but as soon as Billy started sliding his fingers up and down, Steve relaxed, going boneless with one leg bent up, the other sprawled to the side. His eyes went half-lidded as he grinned up in the starry rainbow lights.

Billy watched him pant in the light of the Christmas tree, and smiled, holding Steve’s hips flat to the floor with one hand, and bending to slip his mouth over his boyfriend’s cock.

“Jesus christ,” Steve grunted, shifting under Billy’s hands, and Billy hummed along with the song, knowing he could probably shove on in, but taking it slow, swirling his tongue around Steve’s dick as his fingers worked. He rubbed over the edge of Steve’s hole, over and over, until he was squirming, red-cheeked, and biting his lips together, and he finally said “Jesus, fuck me, god—”

Billy lifted his mouth off Steve’s cock with a pop. “His majesty’s getting impatient,” he said, and Steve yelled “Yes, I fucking am.” Billy laughed, leaning his head against Steve’s knee, and then kissed it, before crawling up to kiss Steve’s mouth.

“Fuck you,” Steve muttered, panting, his skin gleaming with sweat in the light of the tree. “God…” he whispered against Billy’s mouth, whining softly, and Billy grabbed the sweater and shoved it under Steve’s back, pushing his legs up so Billy could push slowly in.

“Merry Christmas,” he mumbled, and Steve started snickering, grunting as Billy’s weight pushed the air from his lungs, but pulling him in for a kiss, bent nearly double.

“God, you feel good,” Steve grunted, as Billy narrowed his eyes, checking his boyfriend’s sprawled limbs for tension before thrusting his hips. “God, yes,” Steve moaned, kissing hazily at anything of Billy's he could reach.

It wasn’t so bad, Billy decided, boning Steve Harrington under the Christmas tree, and watching the Christmas lights reflect off his eyes. Even the music wasn’t too awful—he mostly tuned it out—until Billy went too hard, rustling the nearest branch of the tree as Steve writhed beneath him, and a popcorn ball smacked right between his shoulders and bounced off Steve’s knee, and they both had to stop while they laughed themselves breathless.

“Let’s do this every year,” Steve whispered into his shoulder once they’d finished, sweaty and smiling, and Billy snorted a laugh, pulling him closer.

“...yeah, okay,” he whispered back, running his hand around his boyfriend’s ass where it was still a little sticky, and considering Round Two. “You’re worth it.”

“Good,” Steve laughed, squirming closer. “You’re worth it too. This. Anything.”

“...love you too,” Billy whispered, hugging him close.

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Christmas without Miracles

I’ve fallen a bit behind on my contributions to @drawlight’s Advent Calendar, but behold!

One fic using two prompts so I feel less guilty!

This one takes place in the early 1800s. No specific location - just isolated, outside of England, and cold.

This is supposed to be a few years before the 1862 argument, but if you want to headcanon a universe where this happens instead of the 1862 argument, that’s cool, too.

06 - Sleigh Bells/07 - Silent Night (2,630)

Snow had started to fall.

Just lightly, each white flake twisting down from a sky dark with clouds.

All the usual nighttime noises – insects, animals rustling in the undergrowth, even the wind in the trees – were silenced. Just the gentle hush of snow accumulating, molecule by molecule.

Aziraphale knew he should be inside. There was a fire blazing in the hearth, the cabin bright and warm and empty. Two of the three would be an improvement on what he had out here, standing on the porch, looking across the rolling, tree-dotted hills.

Cold. Empty. Silent.

He hated the silence most of all.

--

Crowley didn’t hate snow, so long as he didn’t have to travel in it.

Walk, and your boots filled up with snow.

Ski, and you looked ridiculous anywhere outside the Alps. And in them, too.

Riding a horse was out – if he went the rest of eternity without ever sitting on one of those again, he’d be happy.

But anything with wheels was also out – carriages and wagons and carts could barely handle clean city streets.

Trains were good, if the tracks were cleared, but so far Hell had not been interested in his proposal to build a train line that stopped at every human residence in the world. Which was fine, that had only been semi-serious, anyway.

The only remaining option was to use some form of sled.

He glared at the…sled? Sleigh? Whichever. It was small, just enough room for one person, or a small pile of supplies, to sit in it the seat, but whoever drove it had to stand behind on the runners. It was pulled by some kind of long-maned pony or very small horse that looked like it had its own ideas about who was in charge.

The bridle and reins were covered in bells.

“Do you have one without the bells?” he asked, not even really hoping.

“Nope,” the man said with the cheerful joy of one who knows he has the transportation market cornered for the next few months. “Those bells let people know you’re coming even when they can’t see you. And anyway, they keep off the evil spirits.”

“So I’ve heard.” Crowley reached over and flicked a finger at one of the large silvery bells.

Chk-chk-chk

The whole line jingled, sending shivers up and down his arms, settling at the back of his neck.

He hated that noise most of all.

--

Too many frivolous miracles.

First, a letter full of such threatening language that only a trek through a revolution-torn city to find his favorite pastries – as well as a not-quite-chance encounter with a certain demon – had been able to calm him down again.

Then, a commendation. Congratulations on performing your job perfectly as always.

And now, a “meditative retreat” – five months alone to think about what he should and shouldn’t be using his powers to achieve. No miracles allowed.

A month and a half in, he’d decided – he hadn’t the faintest idea.

Take the most simple of duties: sometimes, he was assigned to keep a person safe.

Did that mean use a miracle to stop them from being injured? Or to heal them afterwards? Or was he supposed to guide them, miracle-free, as if he were another human? Do what seems best, he’d be told, but what seemed best to him never seemed best to anyone else.

Or protecting himself – his corporation, rather, since Aziraphale’s true self was rarely in danger. Could he use a miracle to avoid a dangerous situation? Heal himself from an injury? Was his body the same as a human body, or less valuable? Was all this a waste of Heaven’s resources when he could simply get a new body? How many miracles were equal to one body, anyway?

Questions he shouldn’t ask. Shouldn’t have to ask. He should just know. Angels received their orders, obeyed them, and chose the best course of action, because that’s what angels did.

Angels weren’t supposed to get confused.

But Aziraphale did. All the time. What did that make him?

--

Crowley preferred to do everything by miracle.

Need new clothes? Manifest them.

Need money? There it is.

Food? Never bothered to learn to cook. When he was hungry, he pulled fully prepared meals out of the nearest cupboard.

Hell rarely tracked exactly what he did, as long as he could demonstrate evil had been accomplished.

But they did track where he was, using miracles. It didn’t do to be more than a few miles from where you were supposed to be.

This wasn’t anywhere near Venice, which was a pity, because he’d rather like to be in Venice right now.

He stared around the bakery. “I don’t know. Just get me several things that are hot and edible.” He had a list, but it wasn’t helping. “Do you have a…stuffing? Or butter?”

“You can get butter from the general store,” the baker’s wife offered, putting together his packages.

“No. The shop person said they didn’t have any dairy.”

“He just meant milk and cream. They’ll have butter, and cheese if you want it.”

Crowley dragged the heel of his hand across his forehead. He’d lived in agricultural societies. He knew perfectly well that butter and cheese were both dairy. “Fine. I’ll go back. How about the stuffing?”

“You’ll want to make your own.”

“Really don’t.”

“I can give you a family recipe!” She started writing in pencil on the brown wrapping of one of the packages. “You’ll need ground beef, sausage…”

A few minutes later, Crowley opened the door to the bitter cold wind outside, making all the bells in the wreath jangle up and down his already-raw nerves.

Chk-chk-chk

He paused, cracked his neck, and kept walking.

--

Aziraphale finally had to return to the cabin, as the snow had piled up higher than his feet.

Only a single room – wood stove, table and benches, rug; there was a bed even though he didn’t sleep, a few pots and pans even though there was no food. 

No chair. No books. Well, one book.

Gabriel had left him a journal, and pen and ink. Encouraged him to write down his thoughts.

Aziraphale thought best when he was reading, talking, engaging with someone or something. For the first few weeks, he’d talked to himself a lot, arguing with the empty room, having mock conversations, even reciting poetry he had memorized.

But slowly the oppressive quiet had settled across his soul. And he found himself picking up the pen to write –

What? What could he write about? His doubts? His confusion? What would he even say?

When it got to be too much, he tried drawing, sketching out what he could see. That helped a little, but once he’d scribbled down images of the room, the hills outside, the one tree he liked to walk to…well, he was back to the same dilemma, what to write?

Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to list a few questions. Just so he could think about the answers.

--

Chk-chk-chk

The door of the last shop slammed behind Crowley, bells clattering. Shaking his head to clear it, he checked his list one more time. It looked like he had everything, though the ink was already smudging where snowflakes fell on it.

He settled the packages into the sled, tucking a blanket all around them, and pulled up the collar of his coat against the biting wind.

“Better leave room for yourself,” said the kid.

Crowley looked him up and down. Seventeen or so, son of the man who had rented him the sled and horse. He was supposed to drive it out and return with it.

“Nope. I’m driving, you’re staying.”

“That’s not how this works. We only have a few, and we need to be able to get supplies out in an emergency –”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Crowley handed over a pile of money. “This should cover the sled and the horse, in case I don’t come back. Plus a bit. Give it to your dad.” He considered the kid another moment. “You have, I don’t know, a girl you like? Boy? Anything?” The kid tried to give him a stubborn, blank look, but some of that pink wasn’t just from the cold. “Whatever, not my business.” Crowley handed over the rest of his money, saving only what he would need to get back to London. “Give him, her, or them something nice. Cheers.”

While the kid was still staring at the pile of money, Crowley climbed onto the runners of the sled and took the reins in both hands.

Chk-chk-chk

He felt that one in his stomach.

With another jingling of sleigh bells, he shook the reins –

And nothing happened.

“Go.”

Nothing.

“Move, horse!”

Now it was just embarrassing.

The kid leaned against the sled. “Are you sure? I don’t think you know what you’re doing.”

“Of course I don’t!” He jerked the reins back, trying to ignore the way the sound of bells hammered into his spine. “But no one can know where I’m going.”

With a shrug, the kid shoved the money into his pocket. “Pull on one side, gently, to turn. Not too sudden, it’ll tip over. Whoa to slow down, walk to go, and remember, you’re in charge.” He winked, and walked away with a swagger that wasn’t quite as good as the demon’s, but better suited to over six inches of snowfall.

Clutching the reins again, Crowley called: “Walk.  WALK!” He shook them hard. “COME ON YOU BLESSED HORSE, WALK!”

Nothing moved.

--

Once Aziraphale had started writing, it was hard to stop.

Page after page. Whatever entered his mind.

It was nice just seeing the ink flow.

Hearing the scratch of the pen fill the silence.

--

Crowley got off the back of the sled and walked up to the horse, grabbing it by the bridle. “Listen, here, you, I am in charge!”

The horse snorted and stomped directly onto his foot.

“Nghaa that was not – ugh!”

The horse shook its head, jingling the bells again and again until Crowley was ready to tear his own ears off, until Crowley let go and stepped back.

The horse lashed its tail.

“Look, fine.” Crowley grumbled trying to stand where the horse could see him clearly, despite the snow that was now falling thick. “You’re in charge if that’s what you want. But I need to get somewhere. I should have been there hours ago. Days ago. You are my only way of getting there. I have nothing to bribe you with. I promise, you get fed either way, you get brushed either way, and you will absolutely get enough apples and sugar to make you sick because I’m not doing anything else with those.”

He reached out a hand to touch the horse. He had lived in agricultural societies, but he was much more comfortable around the crops and plants than the animals. Still, rather to his surprise, the horse let him stroke its nose. “Please. This is more important than you can imagine. Just get me there.”

He stepped back onto the runners, picked up the reins. “Walk.”

The horse didn’t walk. It moved much quicker than that.

--

Aziraphale lay down his pen, wiggling his fingers after all that writing. There were a lot of words on the page. Perhaps he should read over them.

He found himself walking back to the door, stepping into the silent night outside again.

The snow was falling so fast it was almost a physical thing, blocking his view even where the light from the door should have been enough to see the edge of the woods. It spilled across the porch, piled at the corners of the cottage.

And still, everything was so quiet. Even the wind, which had picked up, seemed to carry only the flakes and not any sound –

Were those sleigh bells?

A moment later a horse came into view – one of the small, sturdy northern breeds – pushing on through the unbroken snow, pressing through the storm with determined strides, pulling behind it a small sled and clinging to the back of that –

“Crowley?”

“Whoa,” called the dark figure. “Whoa – I said whoa! We’re here!”

With a final jingle of bells, the horse stopped in front of the porch, and Crowley fell backwards, off the sled runners and into the snow.

“Crowley! What the Hell are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, Angel.”

“You’re supposed to be in Italy!”

“Yeah, I am. No, don’t worry, I can pick myself up.” He started to rise, then stumbled again.

Aziraphale rushed forward. “I’m – I didn’t realize – what’s wrong? What happened?”

“Bloody sleigh bells. Chase off evil spirits.” He clasped Aziraphale’s hand, pulling himself up. “I’ll be fine, just need to get a drink and warm up.”

“Of course, but – I don’t have any food or drink.”

With a very tired grin, Crowley tossed aside the blanket in the sled. “Happy Christmas, Angel.”

--

Crowley had needed to compromise on a few things.

He had the goose, and what he was assured were all the ingredients needed for stuffing and gravy.

Potatoes, brussels sprouts, and parsnips had been easy to find; and something he was almost certain was redcurrant sauce.

There had been no plum pudding this far from England, or mince pies, or fruitcake – though he wasn’t certain fruitcake was something you bought, it was possible all fruitcakes already existed and were simply eternally exchanged. He had managed to get a variety of sweet pastries.

Lots of wine.

And two bundles of books – the ones he had picked out at stops on the way, and the ones he had taken from the shop. Aziraphale shouldn’t have been surprised Crowley knew his favorites, but the demon was pleased at his smile either way.

There were two things to take care of first.

Crowley spied the notebook as soon as he stepped in. He only glanced at it long enough to see that Aziraphale had written a lot.

Then he picked it up and dropped it into the flames of the stove.

“Crowley! That was a private journal!”

“No it wasn’t.” He pulled off his glasses and glared at Aziraphale. “What did you think, they were going to let you keep that? Ask you to tell them the important parts? They left you here alone to write your own confession.”

Aziraphale clenched his teeth, didn’t say anything.

“I don’t like it.” Crowley grumbled. “They’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t know what’s changed.”

The other issue was the horse.

“No, I can’t have a horse in the cabin!”

“You can’t leave it outside, Angel, it’s a storm!”

“I thought you didn’t even like horses.”

“I don’t! But this one got me here and…” Crowley shrugged. “And it’s as much of a bloody-minded stubborn bastard as you are, so you’ll probably get along.”

Aziraphale sighed, and Crowley could see him start to give in. “How am I supposed to hide the fact that there’s been a horse in here when Gabriel gets back? We can’t miracle it clean.”

“Eh, just tell him some traveler lost in the storm stayed here a while. It’ll be true enough.”

--

And so, with the horse in the corner working through its feed bag and having the night of its life, Crowley and Aziraphale set about figuring out how to make a Christmas dinner.

It wouldn’t be perfect.

Neither of them had ever cooked without miracles before. There was immediately an argument over how one peeled a potato, and what exactly stuffing was for, really.

It wouldn’t be perfect.

But the jangle of the bells had ended, the silence had been driven from the cabin, and once again they were together.

And that, in a way, was perfect.

[swimmingnewsie]

Santa’s Address Book (A Big/Little Ice Bros Fic)

The first Christmas, they hadn’t known. Their parents were piloting internationally for Christmas Eve and had known as such a while in advance. So they celebrated the 23rd with cookies and dinner and instructions for Anna on where Santa’s presents were hidden. It was a calm before the storm they didn’t know was coming.

Anna was happy to be home with her little sister. There were no papers or deadlines to make. Elsa had just turned three on the 22nd and the magic of Christmas was alive and well. Anna was happy to take her sister everywhere: going to see Santa, walking around the snowy suburban neighborhoods, drinking hot chocolate and watching movies. It was wonderful, until it wasn’t.

They were spending Christmas day with Kristoff’s family. Elsa happily played with his younger cousins; Kristoff and Anna got some time to themselves in the hustle and bustle. She was almost asleep lying against him when she got a phone call.

A phone call from American Airlines. Their plane had gone down in the Arctic Ocean, crashed right into a glacier.

There had been an attempt to keep it from Elsa until the next day, but Anna’s tears fell without her consent, and the secret was out. It was bad enough telling her once, but Elsa was too little to really understand. It took several attempts for Elsa to really understand that Mama and Papa weren’t coming home from their flight, breaking Anna’s heart each and every time.

The year after was tough. Funerals, moving out of their parents’ house, custody battles, taking a sabbatical from school were only a few highlights of the year. But Anna was determined to make Christmas magical for Elsa. She decorated their new house in as much decor as she could manage. Weekend evenings ended in hot cocoa and movies. She was even able to take Elsa sledding on the big hill near Kristoff’s house.

But it wasn’t the same, no matter how hard she tried. Their mother wasn’t singing songs with them as they drove through town or their father swearing as he rigged lights outside their house. The sadness pooled inside her heart as she cursed the people who needed to go from Denver to Norway that night. She knew it wasn’t their fault, but it was easier to be angry at them rather than the multiple engines that had failed that night.

Kristoff helped. He had effectively moved into the little two bedroom house with them given how often he was around. He was there when Anna couldn’t pick up Elsa from preschool because meetings with the lawyers ran long or when Anna just needed a break. It helped that Elsa liked him too.

Christmas Eve, they laid in bed cuddling quietly. There hadn’t been much to say since they put Elsa to bed, waiting for Kristoff to put on his silly Santa Claus outfit and lay out presents for Elsa. The day had been good, even with the somber undertone. Anna didn’t want Elsa to remember Christmas as a time of sadness- to do that would be the most heinous act in her eyes. They had baked cookies for Santa, cooked spaghetti together, made snow angels in the yard, and watched Christmas movies until Elsa’s little eyes began drooping. It was all and all a great day. It felt almost like Mama and Papa were only on another flight if she didn’t think about it too long.

“Do you think we did okay?” Anna asked softly, breaking the silence.

“You did amazing,” he said, kissing her temple. “It’s going to be good, I promise.”

“I just hope so.” Anna curled inward towards Kristoff, soaking him his warmth and comfort. “I want to be good.”

“And it will be. And we’ll make it through tomorrow. One step at a time, one breath at a time. Just like we’ve done for the last year.” Kristoff rubbed a soft hand on her back.

Anna nodded. He was right after all. He usually was.

“Anna?” A little voice popped up from the doorway.

“Elsa? What are you doing up, baby girl?” she asked, moving in the bed. Elsa had a bit of a tendency of crawling into bed with them when she couldn’t sleep. She knew she should break the habit, but in reality Anna liked the closeness too. “Couldn’t sleep?”

The little girl shook her head before crawling into the spot between Anna and Kristoff. “Come here, snowflake. Cozy as a cocoon,” Kristoff said, bundling the toddler into the covers. Elsa gave a little smile, obviously comforted by the gesture.

“Anna?” the little girl said, looking up to her big sister. “Is Santa going to miss us since we moved from last year?”

Anna gave a contented sigh, happy that was the cause of her sister’s restlessness rather than other hard truths. This Anna could fix. “Nope. Santa and Mrs. Clause keep a very good address book. And remember you sent your letter with our new address? They certainly won’t skip us.” It was what their father had always told her as a little girl while they moved constantly due to their mother’s job in the Air Force. Christmas was always somewhere new, but Santa never left her behind.

Elsa nodded, content with the answer. It was clear she wasn’t as excited as she was the Christmas before. And before then she had been too little to truly enjoy Christmas. It hurt Anna’s heart, but what else could they do?

“But, he might if certain little girls don’t go to sleep,” Kristoff teased, tickling Elsa’s belly.

“No he won’t! Tell him, Anna!” Elsa laughed with a smile, a real smile.

“I dunno, sis. That’s what I was always told,” she teased right back. “Now you have to shut your eyes. And if you listen really hard you might hear sleigh bells.” Anna moved her sister to lie on top of her chest, Elsa’s favorite spot.

“Will you sing Mama’s song?” Elsa asked softly, curling up in her sister’s warmth.

Anna nodded and hummed softly. She rubbed Elsa’s arm with the gentlest of care, letting the little girl be soothed to sleep. It would never be like it was before. But they did they best they could. And that was enough.

“Merry Christmas, Elsa.”

[sanditoncreative]

Calling All Sanditon Authors, Artists and Content Creators!!

@sanditoncreative would love if you all would join us in kicking off our very first prompt challenge event, 12 Days of Sanditon!

When is it? - The challenge will begin Saturday December 14th and continue on until Wednesday December 25th

How do I participate? - Please choose one (or both) of the prompts below for the corresponding days. Anything is accepted - fic, aesthetics, fan art, edits, gif sets, moodboards, etc.

ANY AND ALL SANDITON SHIPS ARE WELCOME TO THIS EVENT! (even platonic ones).

Please make sure to @us here @sanditoncreative when you post your work so we can reblog your entry, and remember to use the corresponding tag: #12 days of sanditon, so we don’t miss anyone, as we’ll be tracking that tag during the event. Alternatively, you can submit you work directly to our blog.

PROMPTS

14th Dec: Snow and/or All is calm, all is bright

15th Dec: Sleigh and/or Night Divine

16th Dec: Stockings and/or Where the lovelight gleams

17th Dec: Caroling and/or When those blue snowflakes start falling

18th Dec: Roaring fire and/or Sleep in heavenly peace

19th Dec: Fur and/or Winter wonderland

20th Dec: Gingerbread and/or Tidings of comfort and joy

21st Dec: Mistletoe and/or The near and the dear one

22nd Dec: Games and/or Hang a shining light upon the highest place

23rd Dec: Tree and/or Each shining light, each silver bell

24th Dec: Dance and/or Merry Gentlemen

25th Dec: Gift and/or Tis the season to be jolly

* Your entries can be as loosely based on the prompts as you wish, they are merely a means of inspiration. This is meant to be fun and bring us together, as well as add a bunch of new content to the ships!

Late entries - we will accept late entries for any of the prompts up to December 30th, and aim to get the master list up between 1-2 weeks after the final day of the event.

If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to hit up our inbox! Give us a signal boost, and let’s get this party started!

x Mods Lori & Lis x

[tagsecretsanta]

From Fallenfurther

to @lenle-g

Secret Santa doesn’t own this fic, full credit to the author mentioned above!

Deck the halls

The year Gordon decided everyone had to wear Christmas jumpers to decorate the tree, John had headed straight back up to Thunderbird 5 and refused to come down. Gordon threatened to come up and decorate Thunderbird 5 for him, which John promptly pointed out was a health hazard. The last thing John had expected to see when he woken from sleep the next day was the metres of tinsel taped all over his sleeping quarters. Walking through the gravity ring was like strolling into Santa's grotto. Tinsel, snowflakes and baubles had been hung and placed everywhere. He had to empty a pile of tiny red baubles from his mug to have coffee and pull tinsel out of every limb on his clean spacesuit before putting it on. It turned out Gordon and Alan had launched Thunderbird 3 the moment his head hit the pillow and had worked non-stop to make sure he felt festive. Scott had just laughed at first, until John discover the fake snow that had been left in the observation room. The floating mess interfered with the projections making it impossible to monitor anything. Gordon and Alan were promptly sent back up to clear the worst of the mess, though they were allowed to leave some tinsel and snowflakes attached to the walls. They had also been instructed to bring him back, which they did, despite his complaints. Once out of his uniform, he was caught be Scott and Virgil, both in their own awful Christmas jumpers, as he stepped out of his room. Using the element of surprise to full advantage, they pulled his jumper over his head before welcoming him home. Ever since he'd come down when asked and donned the scratchy wool jumper begrudgingly. 

This year was no different. After telling EOS that he couldn't get out of it, despite her instance that she would stop his brothers from redecorating, John set the space elevator down on Tracy Island. As always, gravity made him a little unstable and he wobbled to his room. John stood in the shower letting the water wash everything properly. The shower on Thunderbird 5 was great, but there was a certain comfort to the one in his bathroom that couldn't be replicated. Drying off and donning his civilian clothes, John sighed. He walked over to the drawer where the jumper was kept. The wool wouldn't soften no matter how many times he'd washed it and no matter what detergent he used. John cringed when it scratched his face as he pulled it over his head. A glance in the mirror confirmed that Santa was still flying his reindeer drawn sleigh across his chest and the little metal bells attached along the reigns still jingled with his every move. Shaking his head, he headed down to the lounge to get this over and done with. 

Alan and Gordon were already in the living room, opening the boxes of decorations, fighting over what was to be hung where. John headed over to the one labelled ‘lights’, knowing that they would have been dumped back in the box last year by Gordon, so would need detangling. 

"Welcome back to Earth!"

"Glad you decided to join us, John."

John looked over his shoulder at his older brothers. Scott and Virgil were smiling at him as they carried the massive tree into the room. 

"Like I had a choice in this, though I'm glad to see you two are handling the tree this year, after last year's disaster!"

John looked over at Gordon and Alan as his elder brothers chuckled. Last year Alan and Gordon had got the tree and having decided it was too much effort to take it up in the lift, had tried to use the clamp on Thunderbird 2 to lower the tree to the poolside. The tree ended up battered, with branches broken and a fair portion of the needles floating in the pool. The sorry looking tree was stood in the kitchen while a new one was obtained. Thankfully they had enough baubles and tinsel to decorate the island twice over, so the tree still looked festive, even with a few branches missing. 

John watched as the tree was stood up to the side of the lounge. Pulling more lights from the box, John turned back to untangling before Gordon decided to decorate the tree without them. Once he'd freed a long chain of lights, John walked up to the tree where Virgil was standing ready. Virgil bent down allowing John to sit on his shoulders. John steadied himself as his brother stood. Leaning carefully forward, John reached out and started slipping the lights between the top branches of the tree. The needles were thankfully soft as they brushed against his skin. Virgil watched and slowly moved round the tree, though John swayed slightly, a little dizzy as his body was still getting accustomed to gravity. When they got halfway down, Virgil allowed John to get off, though stayed down to let Gordon, who had tinsel slung over both shoulders, clamber up and take John’s place. 

John continued around the tree, the lights slowly slipping through his fingers as he placed them. Gordon was soon following close behind with the tinsel just as John got to the last layer of branches. Gordon pushed under him, the trailing tinsel caused John to stubble back, arms pinwheeling. John managed to stay on his feet and stepped forward to avoid Scott, who was passing baubles up to Alan, who was on his shoulders. John went over to the large box labelled baubles and took out a smaller box of golden ones. He swapped it for the empty box that Scott was now holding. 

Gordon was grinning ear to ear, still decorated with tinsel, as he grabbed a box of shiny green baubles, before heading back to Virgil for another lift. John picked up frosty blue ones and started to put them on the lower branches, carefully keeping out the way of the others. Stepping back again to let Scott and Alan past, John stepped on a length of tinsel that Gordon had dropped. The bundle of shiny red decoration slipped against the polished floorboards sending John flying backwards. Instinct made him drop the box, which fell against his stomach as he landed on his bottom. The blue baubles bounced out the box and rolled around him. Every eye turned to John and laugher sounded out. John could feel the heat spread over his cheeks but couldn't stop himself as he joined in with the infectious laugher. Gordon was chortling so hard he was struggling to stay atop Virgil.

"You meant to hang the baubles on the tree, John, not yourself!"

His brother has fought to get the words out and Alan was sent into another sniggering fit. John looked down to see one of the shiny blue baubles had caught on one of the bells on his jumper. He shook his head, glad that the bauble had stopped the joke from being about gravity. He carefully picked the bauble off and placed it in the box, before he collected the others that were still within his reach. John headed back to the tree to hung up the offending baubles, before they could cause any more trouble. 

"Be careful John. Don't go too near the tinsel or it might conspire with gravity and trip you up again!"

John rolled his eyes. He just couldn't escape his brother's bad jokes. John stepped away from the tree and towards the boxes as the alarm sounded. Instinct took over, and he ran to his father's desk. His body was not quite ready for the sudden movement and he skidded into the side of it. John ignored the dull pain in his leg as he sat down and answered the call. 

"International Rescue, what's the situation?"

"Avalanche, French Alps, unknown number of trapped people."

"Stay calm. Get everyone you can to a safe location. Try and ascertain how many people are missing and if any of them had emergency avalanche equipment on them. Keep this line clear so I can keep in contact with you. Help is on the way."

John looked at his brothers, four solemn faces returned his gaze. The eldest was the first to speak.

"Unknown number of casualties. The more of us the better. I'll take 1, you four go in 2. John, get EOS to scan the area. We need deep thermal scans and look for any signals from any emergency equipment or beacons. The more information we can get the better. You'll monitor the situation from 2. Be prepared as time is of the essence in this situation."

John nodded before he turned to EOS whose hologram was now projecting into the room.

"Scans underway John. I'll send the data to Thunderbird 2's computer."

"Thanks EOS."

With that John stood, pulled the awful jumper over his head and threw it on the pile his brothers had made on the sofa. He fell into the bucket chair beside Alan. The tension in the room was palatable. Avalanches were personal and they never underestimated them. John took a deep breath as the chair lowered. He was known as the calm one, but it didn't mean he always felt it. Not being on Thunderbird 5 during a rescue threw him and he took another deep breath to bring his mind back into focus. Alan didn't mention anything, though when John looked at his brother, he recognised the tension that gripped the young man. John knew Alan had few memories of Mum, but it didn't stop the atmosphere from affecting him. The chairs separated and John hopped off when it paused and ran to the lockers. With practiced skill, he removed his clothes, squeezed into his spare suit and grabbed his helmet. He was back in the seat within minutes and it took him down, past the rail that led towards Thunderbird 3, and along towards Thunderbird 2's hanger. Alan's seat was slightly ahead, and John had to run to catch up with the other astronaut. They ran towards the waiting platform below Thunderbird 2. Gordon sprinted up just behind them and the three brothers were lifted into the green behemoth. John did a double take at the sight of the cockpit. There was tinsel everywhere. Well, it was everywhere where it wouldn’t be a hazard. Why Virgil had let Gordon do so this was beyond John's comprehension. 

"You like it?"

Gordon grinned straight at John. John took the co-pilot's chair, which was wrapped in golden tinsel. Virgil had green tinsel around his seat, which explained why it might be being tolerated. 

"It's festive."

John’s face displayed his displeasure and Gordon just chortled behind him. John reached up with one hand and scratched his neck where the shiny decorations were irritating his skin, while he brought up EOS's preliminary scans of the avalanche with the other. She has managed to find three emergency signals and two faint heat signatures. The priority was going to be on the people who didn't activate any emergency avalanche equipment as they were likely to have the shortest time to hypothermia. John contacted the original caller and got an update on possible numbers of trapped people and the current safe point where casualties and survivors were being rounded up at. John checked Scott's location then marked the roundup point on the map, along with a suggested place to land. He didn't need to tell Scott any more than that; his brother knew what needed to be done. A quick call to the local emergency call centre confirmed that local support was on its way. 

John kept his eyes on the data but let his hearing drift to the conversation his youngest brothers were having. They were debating how bad Christmas dinner was going to be this year. A shiver went down his spine at the memory of last year's dinner. A rescue had called them away, leaving Grandma to cook. Thankfully Brains had relinquished MAX so at least the half the food was edible, even if the vegetables had been a little overcooked. The turkey was still dry but at least it wasn’t frozen in the middle, and the gravy was tasty and abundant enough to make up for it. John was brought out of his musings by more dots popping up on the display. Scott had sent out the drones and their scans were detecting more faint heat signatures. A quick check of the inventory confirmed the spare heat cone had been brought and John quickly marked out which people needed the most urgent attention. Scott's hologram appeared between John and Virgil and silence fell over the brothers. 

"There are 13 people definitely unaccounted for. One group is using an older GPS application for locating each other. One of them is logging in now. I'm going to ping Thunderbird 5 from their phone, so John, have EOS hack it and superimpose the GPS data on what we already have."

"I’m on it, Scott."

"Alan and Gordon, you'll be in the pods. Follow John's instructions on who to rescue first. Virgil, grab the shovels and other equipment we'll need to start digging people out. I have a mountain rescue team here eager to help. You and I will work with them to get those closest to the surface out. Also bring five of the avalanche survival kits that Brains packed."

"Copy that, Scott" 

"John, head down to Thunderbird 1 and coordinate from there. There is a dog team on the way. I want you to collect as much data as you can, then help them scout the area for anyone we haven't been able to locate. The mountain is still considered unstable so everyone must have a survival pack on them at all time. John, there are spares in 1 if the dog team need it, but they should bring their own. I'll meet you on the ground."

“FAB”

Scott disappeared. They were coming up to the mountain now and the location Scott had chosen for Virgil to land popped on the screen in front of his older brother. John watched as Virgil surveyed the land before starting landing procedures. John flipped back to his screen. EOS had gotten the extra information from the app and three more locations popped up on the map bring the total to eleven. With two still missing the dog team was going to be essential for finding them. The moment Thunderbird 2's engines shut off Alan and Gordon were out of their seats and heading towards the module. John and Virgil waited for Thunderbird 2 to rise before standing on the platform which lowered them to the snow below. Scott stood below with five others who were wrapped up in professional snow gear. Virgil headed into the module, feet stepping onto the door seconds after it hit the snow. John left his brothers to their tasks and hurried down the hill towards Thunderbird 1. He ran carefully as his feet sank into the snow with each step. 

As John approach Thunderbird 1 the stairwell descended, and John smiled. He took the steps two at a time and grabbed a case from one of the craft's storage holds. He looked towards the pilot's seat where a hologram of EOS was hovering. 

"Thanks for the help, EOS. I'm going to set up base in the evacuation point so I can be there to meet the dog team. You'll only be able to communicate with written words. You'll download what I need to the computer when I turn it on, right?"

"Of course I will John! What kind of AI do you take me for?"

"The mischievous kind."

John left Thunderbird 1 and EOS secured her up behind him. He followed the footprints Scott had made to the safe point. A quick conversation with the woman in charge and John had a table set up. The 3D holographic map now displayed his brother's icons and the heat signatures of the other rescue crew, which EOS was now tracking. John smiled as the pods reached their respective heat signatures and started the rescue. John watched over the rescue like this for thirty-five minutes and got to see the first few rescuees as they were carried to the safe area where paramedics were ready to treat them. When the dog team arrived, John introduced himself. He handed them each a pad and headset so he could communicate with them and showed them how to view the grid he'd made of the area. With the team split in two and with the shovels on their backs, John watched the dog team leave to scout their respective grids. 

John sat back down and gazed at the map again. A quick communication with Scott confirmed that another two people had been rescued by them and they were heading to the next. John could see that one of the mountain team was bringing the next few rescuees down. John noted the deep breaths Scott tried to hide, so pulled up his and Virgil's suit stats. Both were a little warm, with increased respiration rates but all was with expected parameters. They would be tired later but were still fine to continue. Next on John's list was Gordon, who he knew kept an open line with Alan. A quick listen in on their communications showed that they were both focused on the rescue, relaying encouragement to each other. Speaking to them both, they each gave their progress updates, though Alan had to pause partway through as he had reached an avalanche capsule and had to jump out to retrieve it. Satisfied that International Rescue was performing as expected, John turned his attention back to the dog rescue teams. They had already cleared the lower quadrants which were less likely to have contained the missing people. The dogs were making great progress and five minutes later they had located one of the missing people. John sent Scott the coordinates, and he headed to them with two helpers, and allowed the dog and handler to continue searching. 

An hour and a half later the dog team had finished covering the avalanche area and fifteen people had been rescued. The pods were back in the module, all equipment had been returned and they were all debriefing at the safe point. All the survivors had been carted off to hospital, and the mountain rescue team was preparing to take down the marquee that had been erected. John was glad to shake hands with and thank the people who had helped them and smiled as Alan was allowed to play with the dogs. They were pets during the summer and the play they received was part of the reward they got for doing a fantastic job. After being dismissed, John trudged up the hill towards Thunderbird 2. A snowball hit his shoulder and he turned to glare at Gordon, whose proud grin almost stretched up to his ears.

“Don’t even think about throwing another one.”

John watched as the snowball in Gordon’s hand flew at Virgil. John rolled his eyes and shook his head. It was a success rescue. Part of him knew there could still be people unaccounted for, but the probability was slim. Virgil took the snowball to the back without complaint and just continued to head up the mountain. John knew he was exhausted. Alan and Gordon continued the snowball fight all the way to Thunderbird 2, still full of energy from being in the pods for most the mission. John kept an eye on them and ducked his head a few times to avoid being caught in the crossfire. Virgil reached the base of Thunderbird 2 first and summoned the platform down. John saw Virgil reach down, before he turned to face him. John could see the weariness in his older brother’s face, but there was mischief in his smile. Virgil threw the snowball and John watched as it hit the back of Gordon’s head.

“Hey!”

Gordon beamed at Virgil and John smiled too. Sometimes you needed a little brother to remind you to relax and have fun. John reached Virgil’s side and helped him pelt the younger two with snow. They were all laughing when the entered the warm interior of the craft. They all sat down in their respective seats, the tinsel already tickling John’s neck again. 

“What’s with all the laughter? What have I missed?”

Scott’s hologram floated in front of them all, a knowing smile on his face. 

“We just took our time getting to the two, Scott!” Alan’s cheerful voice answered, the snowball in his hands dripped on the floor. Virgil gave the small puddle a dirty look, and Alan looked a little sheepish. 

“Okay. Okay.” Scott laughed, “I’ll see you back at base.”

The flight back was uneventful, and John was glad to have a shower and be back in the warmth of the villa. Their suits may be able to keep them at a comfortable temperature, but there was still something about snow that chilled John to the bone. He walked into the living room and took a hot chocolate from the tray Scott was holding. John started to head to the stairs so he could sit on reading gallery, when Gordon stood in his way, the jumper in one hand and the other held out for his mug.

“We haven’t finished decorating yet and don’t think you can get out of wearing your Christmas jumper.”

John looked around the room at his family, all back in their own tacky Christmas jumpers, and sighed. He gave Gordon his mug and pulled the jumper over his head, before taking the drink back. John wondered how long he’d have to wait until they’d let him go back up to Thunderbird 5, knowing Gordon and Alan were about to go into full annoying younger brother mode as the finished putting up the Christmas decorations.