#I have a secret Santa project I have to finish

[hahskeleton]

he roams the margins of all my notebooks

Both Sunspot and GITM au belong to @venomous-qwille

lmao another art style change. I need to settle on just one- /pos /hj

I had fun with the lighting on this one

[supercantaloupe]

also so sorry but I though I would be done with this after that drawing but im not. im not

[harakanvarpu]

What's up?

I should post sometime.

[reikaryu]

a quiet new year’s eve with hoshi

fluff, established relationship, clingy!soonyoung, soonyoung is so cuddly I want to squish him, one swear, talks about marriage

this is my gift to @wabatle as part of the carat secret santa exchange! it’s rather late but things have been so busy recently ��� anywho, happy new year to everyone! and to emi, I hope we can get closer ☺️

This year’s plan had been a little different compared to previous ones. For starters, your outgoing introvert boyfriend was cramming all his end-of-year meet-ups into the few days preceding New Year’s. He wanted to spend New Year’s Eve all alone with you.

But even then, your day was spent huddled up in your shared apartment, atmosphere less lively than usual. Alexa was taking a well deserved break from blasting songs all day, save for the occasional dim of lights.

Soonyoung would normally be bitching and groaning at the lack of enthusiasm for the new year, but this time, he was perfectly content with spending it lowkey — so long as he got to spend it with you.

He climbed out of bed slowly, lifting the covers off of his slender body before setting his feet down on the floor. With little energy, he exited the bedroom, blindly following the faint sounds of your kitchen shenanigans.

When he arrived at the doorway, his eyes landed on your form, moving about the kitchen with mugs and spoons in your hand. His line of sight shifted to the container sitting on the island: Super Good Hot Chocolate (SAVE FOR SPECIAL DAYS!)

He chuckled at the memory of you scribbling down those words in marker. The mix wasn’t even that expensive.

Your serene bubble seemed to be disturbed at his low laugh. You spinned in the spot, staring at him like a deer in headlights. He was going to laugh aloud, but all he did was give a bright smile that turned his eyes into crescents.

Your tense form relaxed at the relief that he wasn’t an intruder. Turning your attention back to your little project, you mumbled, “Scared the shit out of me … Thought I was gonna have to sacrifice my hot cocoa …”

Soonyoung took light steps towards you, wrapping his muscular arms around your torso and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Hmm? What was that?” he all but hummed, finding comfort in the warmth you radiated.

Shaking your head, you dismissed his question and focused on making your drinks.

You had a foolproof plan in your head: finish up the sure to be delicious hot cocoas and cuddle with your boyfriend on the couch. Maybe turn on a show, or just ramble with Soonyoung.

But he seemed to have other plans. His eyes drooped, his breathing steadied and his hold on your body began to loosen. Was he falling asleep on you? Standing up?

“Soonie.” You prodded his head with a finger, praying that he was at least seventy per cent awake so you wouldn’t have to carry his heavy form to the bedroom. Soonyoung stirred, mumbling an incoherent “Hold still,” before smushing his face into the crook of your neck.

Warmth bloomed like a flower in your chest, settling right where your heart was situated. Heat travelled up to your cheeks, staining your skin a faint red.

Stumbling over your words, even though this had happened a hundred times before, you said tenderly, “Soonyoung, you— I can’t— Ugh … Whatever.” You gave up, sighing with a light shake of your head, but there was a smile on your lips. Soonyoung must have heard the fondness in your voice, because he pressed his face further into your neck.

You finished up the hot drinks with your boyfriend clinging to your body. Surprisingly, when you attempted to move the two of you to the living room, he obliged and followed your footsteps.

Fast forward to twenty minutes later, your legs were tangled with Soonyoung’s, bodies close enough to hear each other’s heartbeat. Your hot cocoas were left on the glass coffee table right in front of the couch, the steaming mug already halfway to emptiness.

“Babe?” you heard him mutter out beside you. With a snuggle closer to him, you acknowledged his call. “I can see a forever with you.”

The sentence caught you off guard, but you didn’t shift from your position. You replied the only way you knew how. “Me too, Soonie. But why so suddenly?”

He hummed in response, thinking about his answer. He didn’t know. He just said whatever was in his head.

“I thought about doing this every year with you,” he said with a smile that you could feel against your hair, “and then I thought: Hey, that doesn’t seem too bad at all. I’d love doing this with you every year. Hell, even every day.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his confession.

You turned in his embrace, staring up at him with adoration in your eyes. He smiled at you, and that feeling of warmth bloomed once again.

“Maybe propose to me first,” you suggested in lightheartedness, almost combusting at the expression on Soonyoung’s face. He hadn’t expected that, but his reply said otherwise.

“Don’t worry, I’ve been planning that since I met you.”

You were about to counter him with an accusation of weirdness, but he shut you up with a sweet kiss on your lips. You melted into him, unable to help the smile that spread across your lips.

Caught in each other’s love and affection, the two of you missed the fireworks that set off outside your window. But no matter — you’ll have plenty more to witness in the future.

hoshi will kiss you if you reblog ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ

[prolix-yuy]

Ah, but it's cold outside

Pairing: Modern!Pero Tovar x F!Reader

Summary: If you could throw Pero Tovar out of your bed and breakfast you would, but something more than your constant bickering keeps him darkening your door.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, fingering, PiV sex, consenting unprotected sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), cumming inside, allusions to oral sex (f receiving), Pero Tovar is Uncircumcised, pain kink, exhibitionism, slight degradation kink, enemies to lovers as self-actualization? We love to see it.

Notes: Happy Holidays @221bshrlocked! I am your not-so-Secret Santa for @pedrostories Secret Santa event! I love love LOVED your prompts and had to give you as many as I could possibly jam into one fic. Plus it's been a while since I've written Pero and I need that grumpy man to get his ass handed to him every now and then. I hope you enjoy!

With the wind howling outside and the lights flickering dangerously, the last person you want to see on your front steps is Pero Tovar. But you barely have time to register the dark-haired pain in your ass before he’s pushing past you and into the warm haven of your bed and breakfast.

“I wasn’t expecting you for another week,” you call over your shoulder, closing the door against the freezing air. Even when the latch clicks the force of the gusts still rattles the door. 

“I wasn’t expecting a warm welcome,” he huffs, swatting snow off his wool jacket to puddle on the floor. Rolling your eyes, you stalk into the kitchen for towels. 

“It’s late, what do you want?” you call from the other room, unable to stop yourself from twisting your mouth into a pretty fair imitation of Pero’s scowl. You’d just turned off all the lights, only the twinkling glows of Christmas decorations still lighting the main floor. 

“The road’s snowed out, I can’t see shit. I debated on whether it would be easier on my nerves to keep going or stop here.” He waves at your exasperated face when he catches the towel you toss. “I haven’t decided yet.”

The telltale frustration rises in your throat, and you swallow it down. “I don’t have any rooms, everyone’s hiding out from the storm.” Busying yourself with the late-night tasks you know by heart, Pero thumps along behind you.

“Believe me, I would rather be in my own bed than your ‘charming’ ones, but I am out of options. Anything. A couch. It’s too cold to sleep in the truck.”

There it is again, that seething annoyance climbing up your spine. You take in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before gesturing at the common room.

“The couch is the best I can do.”

Before you’re done speaking he’s striding in, shucking off his jacket to drape over a chair before kneeling by the dying fire. You’re about to scold him for kicking it back to life but if the power does fail the heat will be welcome. 

“I have to finish closing up, yell if you need something,” you add, his dismissive wave meeting your mocking wave back. The scrunch in your shoulders eases partway through the mess of dishes you’re washing, thankful that the silence of late nights is still yours even with the eerie howls and creaks of the storm surrounding you.

Yours and Pero’s relationship was barely that, if anyone asked. When he first came to town you were elated that a carpenter-handyman type was finally local. You had so many projects half-finished or begging to start in your bed and breakfast, a cozy Tudor-style house you bought at the peak of another career crisis. Thankfully this choice was a revelation, even with the tremendous undertaking. The pipes were of indeterminate age and prone to cracks, the noise of the radiators a heart-pounding alarm clock. The unpleasant odors of past smokers and bad cooks hung heavy everywhere you turned, but paint and YouTube videos and determination brought it up to a standard you were proud of. However, you didn’t want to know what electrocution feels like, or be chummy with the scent of carbon monoxide, so after a proper number of niceties and crossed paths you invited Pero over. 

The first day he darkened your door, you felt something wildly different than his entrance this evening. He was dark haired, roguish in an unfamiliar way. Simply dressed in jeans and a canvas jacket over a black t-shirt, his frame tugged against mouthwatering places you tried not to stare at. He was polite, wiping his feet at the door and setting his toolbox down gently. His accented voice was deep, sonorous, goddamn sexy. You had to focus on showing him the finicky electrical box and the concerning gas hookup in the kitchen to stop your mind from wandering to steamy romance novel plots. 

Then he started speaking, and it all went to hell. 

“You should take down the curtains too,” he hummed, the cadence almost masking the disdain before your brain snapped to attention.

“The…curtains? Are they a fire hazard?”

“No, they are ugly.”

Heat flooded your face, your teeth clacking together as you whipped to look at Pero. His face is the picture of disgust, and when he meets your eyes there isn’t a hint of embarrassment in them. “Did they come with the place?”

“No, they fit the aesthetic.”

“This is an aesthetic?”

You raised your eyebrows, hands on your hips but he didn’t back down one bit. He kept talking.

“I thought the furniture was from the previous owner. Cheaper, you know. You like it?” He looks around as if someone would back him up, but you just fold your arms.

“People don’t come to a bed and breakfast because it’s modern, they come because it’s quaint and charming and…”

“...cheaper than the Marriott…”

“And how would you do it then? Design the space for me, oh wise one.”

“Not how my grandmother would do it.”

Pero did not get your business that day.

Embarrassingly enough, he did get it three weeks later when your gas line started leaking. He critiqued how many mouse droppings were behind the stove and recommended an exterminator. You almost threw him out.

So if anyone asks, you and Pero do not have a relationship. You have a business agreement, at best. A begrudging one. He comes when you call - not quickly, of course, and it feels like a personal slight even when he insists he has many clients - and you pay him after haggling over the cost of the pipe or how long he actually worked for (he has a tendency to charge for his hour-long lunch breaks). He makes his snide little comments and you spit a retort back, and sometimes you swear you catch him smirking to himself after you deliver something especially sharp. 

As you dry your hands, you dwell maybe a few minutes too long on this. You’d never admit it in earshot of his big head, but there’s something incredibly freeing about talking to Pero. Sure, he criticizes and complains about anything he comes within five feet of, but he’s never cruel to you. He never speaks down to you, or makes you feel inferior because you don’t know something. Most of the time he explains what he’s doing so you can do it yourself, with only a few jabs thrown in for flavor. No contractor has ever treated you as capable before. Most try to talk over your or around the topic, and you have to smile and gently redirect them to understand that yes, you are aware of what an impact driver is and no, you think drywall screws would be overkill to reattach that molding. You’d rather snark at Pero all day then have one of those pillow-scream-worthy conversations again.

Shaking off the retrospection, you take a plate of leftover roast chicken and potatoes into the common room. Pero, as you expected, has stoked the fire into an almost concerning blaze but the warmth is welcome. He’s settling back into the well-worn couch and scrolling on his phone as you plop the plate on his lap. Your knuckles graze the top of his thigh when you withdraw, a nervous tingle dancing through your stomach.

What the hell was that about? It’s Pero, for fuck’s sake.

“Eat,” you order, rounding the couch to drop into the open space. If there’s one order Pero will never argue about it’s to eat, which he does with gusto and a nod in your direction. The crackle of the fire covers the ravenous chewing - even barely hungry he eats like a man starved - as you let your body relax into the cushions. All the guests are tucked away, breakfast is prepped and ready, and the silence is welcome. Unfortunately, it’s short-lived.

“I did not think you would be fully booked. I wouldn’t have bothered stopping by.”

It’s too late and you’re too tired to deal with this bullshit right now. You press the heels of your hands to your eyes.

“And why would you think that Pero? Because somehow I could never run a business this well?”

“That’s not…”

“Or am I not paying you enough? Are we about to have a heart to heart over hourly rates?”

“I am not…”

“Then fucking out with it then! If you hate being here, being around me so much, then just tell me why so I can stop trying to give a shit about it.”

The silence that follows pulls your hands from your eyes, and where you thought Pero would be glaring at you he’s…confused. Which is…also confusing.

“I thought this was fun,” he says, voice softening to a rumble that loses its edges in the fire. “The, you know, the back and forth.” He studies his hands, blunt thumbnail dragging along a knuckle. “Most people defer to me because I’m…” Gesturing at himself, what could be a brag instead is dripping with annoyance. “The men pretend to be in league with me, and the women laugh at everything I say. It’s so…boring.”

You’re frozen in place, brows knit as you let him speak, a tingle rising up the back of your neck and flooding your fingertips.

“Any bullshit that entertains me, I can do with them. But not with you.” He can’t meet your eyes, instead staring into the fire that paints the planes of his face in luscious amber. “You never let me get away with shit. I like that. I thought you liked that too. You always seemed to get…brighter when we were…” His hands come up and make little quibbling mouths, finally looking at you. 

Have you ever seen his gaze so bare before?

“I’m sorry, I misunderstood.”

Inside your body, a mounting wave of understanding and excitement fills your limbs. No one has ever praised your fire, your brightness, only wanting to tamp it down into something manageable and palatable. Now before you is a man who not only revels in it, but encourages it? You’ve never felt this thrum of excitement before, like holding a tuning fork against your sternum. 

“You did,” you say, the strength of your voice surprising. Rising to stand, Pero’s chin tilts, a supplicant before you. “Because if you had given me even an inkling of an idea that this was foreplay, I wouldn’t have held back.”

Much like your own revelation, you can see your words change Pero. His brow smooths before arching in tandem with his growing smirk. Hands coming down to grasp the seat cushion, his veins bulge against the creak of upholstery. He tilts his chin to you with shrinking obedience. 

“Then I am very interested in seeing you at your worst.” 

The words drive you to clench. This is dangerous new territory, but nothing could hold you back from striding headfirst into it. Two swaying steps place you in front of Pero, his knees widening to stand between. The new angle makes him lean back, exposing the tantalizing length of his neck dotted with delicate freckles. 

“I don’t know, Pero, you may not deserve that honor.” A giggle rises in your throat, letting yourself enjoy your new-found freedom. Saying exactly what’s on your mind without the nagging fear of being too much. By Pero’s expression, he’s enjoying it too. You wind up another retort, but his next words steal your breath. 

“Are you wet right now?” he says, tongue slipping out to lick at his lower lip. The crude statement slams heat into your face, and suddenly your hand is in the air and headed for Pero’s stubbly cheek. 

“Ah!” he scolds, catching your wrist firmly before you make contact. Your brain barely has time to register you were going to smack him! when he yanks you closer, catching yourself on the back of the couch.

“I knew you were sharp in many more ways,” he gloats, and you can’t decide if you want to try wiping that smirk off his face with your palm or your mouth. “I’ll ask again - are you wet right now?”

This is the precipice of desire and level thinking, your toes on the edge. Strong voices shout that this is crazy, foolish, ill-advised. You feel too good to pay them mind.

“Why don’t you find out?”

Hunger roars in Pero’s eyes but his movements are slow, steady as he helps you straighten to standing. The fire licks at your back, but his hands finding the waist of your jeans are scorching. Eyes flick up to you as he pops the button loose, thick fingers grasping the small zip to open it tooth by tooth. The challenge is to let him take his time, and you’re up for it. By the generous tenting in his pants he’s affected too. 

“What will I find if I take these off? Pretty little panties? Something lace? Nothing at all?” he husks, toying with the plaquet as he purposefully doesn’t look. 

“I think my previous answer still stands,” you retort, and your boldness earns you a rakish smile while Pero rolls your jeans down. The darkness of night shrouds your form, but anyone stumbling in could find you like this. Something tells you Pero likes it better that way.

“Perfect,” he whispers, and his hot breath ghosting over your mound raises goosebumps. 

“At this rate it’ll be morning before…” you tease, lips forming around a smile, but that morphs into a choked exhale when Pero deftly pulls aside your panties and slides his thumb over your clit. Your hands come to his shoulders, digging in as he traces an experimental circle. 

“I knew you were dripping,” Pero purrs, and words fail as two fingers slide through your folds to press at your entrance. “I want to fuck you on my fingers, is that amenable to the lady?” 

Staccato laughter punctuates your “yes” before he presses in, those hands you’d marveled at fitting into the hot clutch of your cunt just shy of painful. Then he curls them and you can’t stop the high-pitched whine that whistles out. 

“Just needed something to scratch that itch, hm? Needed a little finger fucking to relax?” he says, and even with your body responding beautifully to his slick rhythm you can’t let that go. One hand twists into his hair, wrapping locks around your fingers before squeezing. 

Like an electric shock Pero’s body locks up, mouth falling open and his hips undulating more than you expected. You tut at him, superiority flooding your brain even as your pussy drenches his hand.

“Tattling on yourself, Pero. Let your mouth run just a little and I’ll learn all your secrets.” His fingers redouble their efforts, thumb sliding over your clit as he coaxes your orgasm to the surface, but now his head is in your hands, nails digging into his scalp as he fights against succumbing to the pricks of pain.

“Devil woman,” he hisses with no fire. “Tell me what you want - fuck, you’re so fucking wet - tell me what you want to make you cum.”

Your mind races with possibilities - your slick smeared on Pero’s beard, his hands wrapped around your headboard, what his lips would feel like - but the mounting need in your chest is to be filled. 

“I want to fuck you. Right here.”

Pero curses colorfully, fumbling at his belt. You ease his hand from your pussy, the ache of the loss a yawning chasm but he needs both to yank off his jeans and boxers. Pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra, you’re nude and silhouetted by the dying fire. Pero is struggling with his shirt when he glances up at you, stunned into stillness. 

“Mierda,” he whispers. It’s said like a prayer, and at this moment you know why worship is addictive. Pero’s reverent gaze is a stronger aphrodisiac than any oyster could hope to be. He comes back to himself enough to yank the shirt over his head, revealing dark chest hair leading down to a healthy mess of curls surrounding his flushing cock. He fists it, sliding the foreskin down to reveal the deep purpling head slick with precum. Cocking your hip, you fake a loud sigh.

“Fine, I guess you have a big enough dick to act the way you do,” you observe, diffusing the weighty moment enough for Pero to scoff and smile. It’s new on his face, his scowl so everpresent, that you bask in it briefly. 

“Come sit on my lap,” he implores, reaching out to take your hand. After all the sparring, the gentleness puts you off-kilter, unused to being allowed both. 

“What are you, Santa?” you ask, straddling him and settling on his thighs as he rolls his eyes.

“Are you trying to make me lose this? Is it a little too intimidating for all your big talk?” Pero teases, stroking his definitely still very hard cock before tapping the head against your mound. 

“Don’t worry, I know how to get it back if you do,” you quip, dragging your fingernails lightly down his chest before he can retort. He reacts exactly how you’d hoped, muscles clenching and a bead of precum dribbling from his tip. “Do you like it when I make it hurt just a little bit?”

“Yes,” he groans, unashamed, unselfconscious, and your cunt throbs. “You can make it hurt more,” he says, eyes widening suddenly as you see him realize he said that out loud. Sliding closer to hover over his proud cock, you take another sweat-damp handful of hair and squeeze. His groans are growing in volume but you can’t bring yourself to care. You can blame it on the storm in the morning. 

“I’ll let you have anything you want if you’re a good boy for me.”

The whine he’s clearly embarrassed to have let out is cut off by a sudden inhale.

“Wait,” he gasps, hands digging into your hips to hold you above his cock. “I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on birth control,” you interject, “and I haven’t slept with anyone in…like, eight months.”

Pero’s hands knead into your flesh, eyes searching your face.

“I’ll pull out.”

You don’t even think about it.

“Don’t you dare.”

If what you saw was hunger before, what’s in Pero’s expression now is ravenous. His lips curl back into a snarl, eyes deep and dark. Suddenly his fingers are inside you, scissoring you open roughly as you pant into his ear. 

“Tell me to slow down,” he growls, but you shake your head. “Tell me…when I need to.”

“I need you, Pero, please, now.”

No longer holding you still, Pero’s hands guide you down onto his cock. The moment his head breaches a whole body shiver races through.

“Are you…”

“Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

He fills you until he’s in your guts, your lungs, surrounding you with his arms and his thighs below. The splay of his hands on your back makes you dizzy, head buzzy with hormones and his musk and every place he’s touching you in a symphony of pleasure. Faintly you realize he’s saying something, lips moving against your shoulder.

“Pero?”

“Can I kiss you?”

A few drops of clarity sharpen the mush in your brain.

“You’re inside of me and we forgot to kiss.”

Pero’s chest hitches once, then again, then the both of you are moving out of sync as hiccupy laughter overtakes you. He pants when you clench around him, trying to catch his breath until you both come back to your senses. 

“I was enjoying what you were saying too much,” he admits, leaning back against the couch. His face is shadowed but you catch the glint of his eyes, the wetness of his plush lips. How had you resisted them this long?

Pero beats you to initiate, pulling you down to press a kiss to your lips. It’s soft and chaste, his hands cupping your head as you part. But you beat him to return the kiss, pressing him into the couch with a deeper kiss, barely waiting for him to react before urging his lips open. He hums greedily into your mouth, letting you explore with your tongue before he fills you with his. It’s not long before his mouth is frantic, gripping your hips as he makes an experimental thrust into your cunt that breaks your lips apart.

“Pero, fuck,” you gasp, nails digging into his back as he thrusts up deep and smooth. You meet his pace, rolling your hips to grind your clit against him. Fighting for dominance, you finally push him back and ride him in earnest, lifting up over and over again to slam his cock into your cunt. He’s mesmerized by how your tits bounce, taking one in his palm to knead to tease your nipple as your orgasm creeps up your spine. 

“Fuck, Pero, you feel so good,” you moan, slowing to grind down, the friction of his pubic hair on your clit giving you the edge to pull your climax close. 

“You feel amazing on my cock. Are you close?”

“Yes,” you pant, using every inch of Pero to find that moment of bliss. “Fuck, yes Pero, I want to cum on you. Want to feel you inside.” It’s right there, you’re at the brink of tipping over.

“Fuck, yes, oh fuck, say my name like that. Say it when you’re cumming.”

Your nerves sing and your body pulses to the beat of Pero, Pero, Pero rasping from your lips. He’s growling something you wish you could understand but the blood is pumping too loudly in your ears. The only thing you register is the couch against your back as Pero flips you. He’s pressed long against your body, hips snapping into your cunt even as you’re so tight around him. 

“...beautiful, you’re so beautiful, can’t stop…” you faintly hear as the sensations of Pero’s hands roaming your body, his humid mouth at your neck, and the wet slap of his cock bring you back to your body. His thrusts are becoming erratic, right on the cusp of his own orgasm, when you dig your nails into his back and rake them down his spine. 

Pero’s orgasmic bellow is muffled in your neck as the throb of his cock empties inside you. You offer little scratches up and down his arms and shoulders as he comes down, hips pressing in deeper as he lets out satisfied groans. Finally he slumps, head resting on your chest as he catches his breath. 

The silence is back, the dimming fire combating the dark. This was by far the best fuck you’d had in ages, and in no small part due to the freedom to just be. But when the sun rises - hell, when the post-orgasmic haze lifts - what will this even look like?

Pero sighs and lifts up on his hands, easing his cock out before softly swearing and grabbing his shirt to wipe away the cum dripping out of you. 

“I might recommend getting this couch cleaned,” he muses, sitting up on his knees to look down at your loose-limbed body with a lopsided grin. 

“I don’t think we’re the first ones to do that on this particular piece of furniture,” you joke, enjoying the wrinkle of disgust on Pero’s face. 

“Then I definitely recommend a shower. And request a bedsheet.”

The statement is unassuming in a way that you needed. Yes, this is new and strange, but you’ve always embraced both. 

“You know, there is still one bed left in this bed and breakfast.”

Pero’s head perks up.

“The only problem is that it’s mine.”

A roguish smile dimples Pero’s cheek as he hovers over you.

“And what must I do to share it with you?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

END

"I ought to say, "No, no, no sir" Mind if I move in closer? At least I'm gonna say that I tried What's the sense in hurting my pride? I really can't stay Baby, don't hold out Baby, it's cold outside."

[nunehs]

(𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞)𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐕𝐢, 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐲𝐧

𝐕𝐢

-She definitely is a try hard in PE lessons

-One of those kids that skips lesson to go vape in the toilets

-She picked PE, Spanish and Business

-Has over 50 behaviour points mainly because she gets caught roaming in the corridor and talks back to the teachers when she gets sent out

-Been excluded at least twice

-Sleeps during business class, no one can convince me that it’s a fun subject

-Plays football on the astro EVERY lunch when it’s their years day on it

-Theres a sports after school club? She’s there.

-Only picked Spanish so she could go on the trips with Caitlyn

-She would be really good at math. She would get full marks on 99% of the tests.

-Tries to get the last clap in assembly

-One of those annoying kids that makes fart noises in the back if the class

-Always gets told off for swinging on her chair. She knows the cracked skull story off by heart

-Holds back a laugh whenever the teacher shouts at her

-Never has her jumper on, she’s always taking it off the minute a teacher tells her to put it on

-NEVER does her homework

- Whenever she gets sent out she repeats ‘What have I done?’

𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐱

-Picked Art, Design tech and Music

-Graffitis the toilet stalls. She writes those tables that say ‘What are you here for?’

-Throws paper airplanes across the class at people she doesn’t like

-Really good a science and doodles little diagrams on her test papers

-Has at least 20 behaviour points, but only because she’s about 10 minutes late to lessons he hates

-Always finishes her Design tech projects first

-Sleeps during form

-Throws wet toilet paper at the ceiling

-Has to leave the class during the minute silence to prevent her from laughing at the silent class (the music does that help her case either)

-Stabbed someone with a pencil in music, they we’re spamming the music button on the keyboards and it pissed her off

-Has 70% attendance and has a pastoral concern on her sims

-Has a collection of people’s Yr7 pictures on her phone for blackmail purposes

-Loudly shouts ‘MISS SOMEONE IS ONE THEIR PHONE!!’ and gets the person in trouble

-Is hated on by all the popular girls

-Did work experience at mcdonalds

𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐲𝐧

-Is never late to school or lesson

-She is that kid in English class that knows everything about the subject and uses complicated words that not even the teacher knows

-Perfect uniform and to top it off she’s the head girl

-Picked Italian, Triple science and Food tech

-Goes on every school trip possible

-She’s good at every subject that could possibly exist

-Reads out in assembly and wins nearly every awards assembly to the point that even she’s fed up of it

-Has never missed a homework and always completes her assignments

-Has a tutor that teaches her Italian because it’s one of the hardest subjects (out of the main three)

-Was once caught in a stall with Vi and managed to go without a punishment and instead got Vi in trouble saying she was ‘forced into the stall’

-Buys a ham sandwich every lunch without fail

-During secret Santa she buys her person the most pricey gift and they immediately know who their secret Santa was.

-Has 1 behaviour point but got it removed because it wasn’t her who did said thing

-Watches Vi play on the astro and has nearly had a football kicked at her face

-BEST mates with Mel

-Only good at certain subjects in PE, like netball and rounders.

-Makes the best meals in Food tech and has never burnt her food

[little-escapist]

This is my Secret Santa fic to wonderful, talented @esilher! Your art is so beautiful and has fast become an integral part of this nowadays tiny fandom. Thank you for providing us with cool scenarios in your art and that way keeping this fandom alive. I hope you enjoy this story and have a happy holiday time! Summary: Tattoo artist Kurt lives in Lima. Blaine is on his way to visit Cooper for the holidays. Snow storm hits and he gets stranded, so calls Cooper, who calls Kurt to save his little brother. Kurt goes to help and finds Blaine, drives him home and warms him up. Blaine is freaking out inside because this is Cooper's friend Kurt, and he's had a crush forever. Kurt is trying to not react to little Blaine all grown up. A/N: I haven't finished anything since last year's Secret Santa, so be gentle. Writing is took a lot out of me, but I did get it written, with a lot of help from @cerriddwenluna.

[zhxngii]

Alhaitham & Blade having a crush on you

❏ ( notes ) ; This is my gift for @yanqingisim for the Secret Santa event by @solarisfortuneia, I hope you enjoy it <3 ❏ ( contents ) ; PURE FLUFF! might be a bit of angst idk (surprise surprise.) , i tried to write these two tropes and I hope I did them well... sdjkhklasdme.

As Alhaitham's study buddy/research partner, he has a small (big) crush on you but doesn't know how you feel about him so he resorts to hiding his feelings.

How did he fall for you?

All it took was you truly being yourself around him. Usually, when he finishes a project with someone, he'd often hear them complain about how awkward it might've been or something along the lines of how frustrating his personality was... not that he cared though because in the end the project's done and he won't likely see them much.

You on the other hand... were a different case. He took note of how you tried to understand his side of things, not only yours, and how you tried your best to work with him despite how difficult or tiring it might've been. One thing he noticed was how determined you were with your research, and he found that attractive about you.

There used to be a point where he preferred to be alone but... you slowly became an exception as you two partnered up more.

What he does differently that gets your attention.

Alhaitham would eventually become aware of his feelings towards you, but isn't sure how you feel about him, so he'll keep it hidden away and to himself. Though, there will be a time he can't possibly just hide it anymore so what does he do?

He'll often start doing small things such as bringing his and your favorite snacks when you both take a break from all the work you've done so far. You wonder how he knew exactly what you liked and wanted at the moment at he just simply brushes it off by saying he just guessed... when really he took mental note of what you'd bring with you whenever you were with him.

Whenever you happened to catch him during his break, he puts his book down. Doesn't seem like such a big deal but... with anyone else, he wouldn't do as much as to spare a glance at them. He'd keep his eyes glued to the page he was on, not showing any bit of interest in the conversation that started with him since he wanted to be left alone already. But with you? The book can wait. You could've sworn that his eyes almost sparkle in a way whenever he looks up to see you.

Something cute he does.

Whenever you'd tell him a joke, he'll blush when you giggle at him. You find it adorable how when he doesn't get a joke, he'll often take it seriously and give such a long, textbook-based explanation. Once you explain to him, a look of embarrassment comes to his face but he'll laugh along with you at his own seriousness.

Blade's partner but the problem is that you two don't necessarily get along, he ends up developing a small crush on you, or rather a partnership as he would say in the long run.

How does he fall for you?

Blade wasn't very fond of you, the second he saw you he just didn't want you getting in his way of work. It didn't help how you two were often paired up with each other, on every mission no matter big or small, you two somehow were always stuck together.

He was always quite hard on you as your superior and he knew just how much you disliked him for how he treats you but the second you get injured... he gets worried sick. He knew you were strong on your own but knowing your clumsiness, he had to keep a close eye on you.

He's never once felt such the need to protect someone before, he thought it was just the way of a superior looking after the junior but... boy was he wrong. Soon it became more than just that kind of relationship between you two.

What he does differently that gets your attention.

He tends your injuries himself. Usually, he'd let someone else handle it, but he'd just do it himself as he wanted you to rest and be in bed as soon as possible. You didn't know how good he was at this kind of thing until that day.

He often holds your hand, leading your around with his hands tight around yours and the hilt of his sword. His excuse is that he wants to make sure you stay close to him and don't get lost, but in reality, he just wants to feel your hand in his. He'll give it a nice, firm squeeze from time to time, sometimes holding it longer than he intended.

He gives you small gifts of treats and items so you can take care of yourself when you both complete your tasks. Though he's the one that's literally helping you, he doesn't mind giving you a reward of such from time to time especially when the mission happened to take a toll on the both of you.

Something cute he does.

He becomes softer with you when it comes to winding down and relaxing, he'll take part in the little activities you enjoy even though it may seem totally out of his character but he's willing to enjoy it with you.

He'll even do such things as give you a nice hug, though the hug was mostly so he could enjoy your embrace around him as he relaxes into your arms. He loves the times like this when he can just be comfortable with you and not have to worry about being such a tough guy.

[spiritofrainbursts]

Back from the Shadow Realm ( A Long Awaited Update)

- Designs not yet finalized -

- Update below the cut -

Good evening to one and all!! Welcome to the first ever Fur & Fun Friday! So in case it weren't already apparent my account recently got banished to the shadow realm as of a result of handing out invites for a Secret Santa I've been helping @head---ache out with ever since offering to help run the project back in December and wound up deactivating as a result because I didn't feel like dealing with Tumblr staff and felt it would be easier to start from scratch again so I could kick off the new page with a long awaited update regarding the future of my work. Hopefully this doesn't happen again so I don't have worry about my content gaining zero traction nor go through the hassle of creating a new account for the up tenth time, ah anxiety ye heartless bitch, but if it does then I'll be sure to get off me ass and bug the help desk next time around.

With that being said the short of it is that ya'll probably won't be seeing any art from me for awhile starting Pride Month at the very latest depending on whether or not I can get some smaller projects such as updating my Dragon, Sonic, and never before seen Poke sona's designs done and out of the way before then. Why? Well for whatever reason, whether it be the insomnia that has plagued me since senior year of highschool or the mental health issues I've unfortunately have had to deal with over the years as a result of unwanted drama, some of which was admittedly on me and too anyone who may have been caught in the crossfire at the time it all happened truly from the bottom of my heart I'm sorry if I said or did anything to hurt you and hope that wherever you are that you're living your best life regardless of whether or not you decide to forgive me for my past actions or not and hey even if you don't than that's ok too, it's no skin off my back, or even certain events from past that have come back to haunt me with a vengeance over the years, something I've only recently come to terms with thanks some personal growth on my end that has allowed me to feel the happiest I've felt in awhile even if I don't have a lot going for me right now, for the past few years now I've had some kind of weird creative burn out that has made it difficult for me to sit down and draw as much as I used to which in turn has caused a severe decline in content on my end. As a result as soon as I complete my previously forementioned projects I shall here by be going on an indefinite hiatus so I may use the time to create a content buffer and get back in the swing of things. Once I do I'll be sure to set up a new side blog to share my work on a semi regular basis again and hopefully when I do I can start bringing in some income in the form of merch as well as potential adopts so if you'd be interested in receiving some prints and/or characters from me then be sure to be on look out for that as well as a couple of secret projects I'm hoping to start production for in the coming months hue hue 😉 Until then however you can at the very least expect to start seeing some written martial from me throughout the course of this year starting with my contribution for Kat's Secret Santa event come Valentines Day so be sure to keep an eye on my Rainburst Studios tag in the near future and be sure to follow me on my new A03 for updates! (Just a heads up that I'll be changing my user back to Spiritofrainbursts on there come Wednesday as I changed my mind last minute lol Also I lied you'll technically be seeing a fic from me before Valentines Day even if it's a reupload of an older one shot I never got a chance to finish, and never will or at least as is, for archival purposes.)

Welp that's all from me folks so if you have any questions feel free to send them my way via the inbox otherwise 🎶 SO LONG AND GOODNIGHT 🎶 cause this girl needs some 🎶 SLEEEPP 🎶 (Yes that was an MCR joke. Deal with it cause I've gotten deep into their music as of late and intend to start making a crap ton of jokes based off their songs alongside some other rockbands and/or rock music I enjoy such as Crush 40 or Carry on my Wayward Son by Kansas.)

[galaxyedging]

This is for the Pedrostories Secret Santa Event.

For the lovely @baronessvonglitter

WC: 5.15k

Warnings: Smut. I don't want to give anything away, so proceed with caution.

Summary: The promotion to VP comes with a clause. Will a year in a small town change our readers' plans?

Featuring Joel Miller and Dave York

Christmas In Paris

“Honeymire, as its name suggests, used to be too waterlogged to expand on when the land was settled.” The opening that sounded great in your head doesn't feel right as you say it out loud. “Now that our surveys show that this is no longer the case, we're hoping to bring new life to the town.”

The rest of the presentation runs smoothly. All the data is there. It all points to a great investment opportunity, with high returns. Still, you can see the investors are on the fence. It's been a while since you'd pitched anything in such a rural location. Maybe it was time to switch things up.

“Look, I have to be honest, this goes beyond great projected profits for me.” Like a guarantee of becoming VP of Sales with a huge raise. “I grew up in a town like this. The memories of being part of a community and something bigger than myself helped me get where I am today.” Everyone knowing my business and thinking they had a right to talk about it drove me to the city. “This isn't just an opportunity to make money, it's an opportunity to make a community whole again, to bring new life to the area and give others a fresh start to theirs somewhere they can call home.”

The investors loved the talk of home and community. 

Unfortunately, a little too much you think as you open the curtains in the place that had become your home for the last year. The investors handed over way more cash than the company had been expecting, and that figure had been staggeringly high. Your boss had offered you the promotion the next day but with a caveat, you were to move to the town to oversee everything personally. Once the project was finished, you would be welcomed back with a raise, enough to buy that penthouse apartment you'd been eyeing. Your whole future runs through your mind as you get ready for your day until you are abruptly jarred out of them by a grumpy yowl.

“Seriously? You're giving me attitude? You're not even my cat, you little freeloader.” You grumble at the little ball of mixed fur sitting haughtily in the middle of your kitchen floor. Still, you opened a tin of tuna and placed it in the bowl you bought just for her and refreshed her water bowl. “I'm seeing Joel today. I'm going to have him nail that cat flap shut.” You idly threaten as the ginger and black mottled creature eyes you. “Don't look at me like that. He's just a contractor I work with.” You project onto your four-legged companion. Although even the cat could see that things had changed between you and Joel lately.

Joel Miller had come highly recommended when you were looking for contractors in the area. After his daughters moved out for college, he downsized his business and moved north to be closer to them. He'd settled in the same town as his brother to spend time with his family, including his young nephews. You knew quite a bit about Joel. Divorced single father at a young age. He adopted one of his daughter Sarah's friends when her mom passed away. With his brother Tommy's help and sometimes hindrance, as Joel tells it, he built a great business. Aside from his daughters, Tommy was Joel's only close family left. His parents passed away in a car accident when Tommy was in junior high. Joel had pretty much finished raising Tommy and then started raising his own daughter. Joel was easy to talk to while you planned the finer details of the project. Sometimes well into the night, as you got sidetracked by enjoying each other's company. Joel no longer felt like an employee. He felt like something more, a friend or maybe…that potential spiral into no good thoughts is cut off by a heavy knock at your door.

Once your eyes adjust to the figure in front of you backlit by the morning sun on last night's fresh snow, you take in the well-dressed, broad shouldered man in front of you. He makes no secret of doing the same, removing his sunglasses to let his eyes travel your whole body. When his eyes finally reach yours, he speaks “Sorry to disturb you. I got here early, and the man at the gas station said to just knock here. I'm Dave, Dave York.” 

“Oh, Mr York! Hi. Er, I wasn't expecting you….” You suddenly feel flustered. Maybe due to the abrupt arrival of your client or due to the fact that he is even hotter than his voice led you to imagine he was. 

“I know, and please, Dave. I just woke up and decided to make the drive early. I figured I could get breakfast here and wait, but the guy assured me that you wouldn't mind me knocking.” Dave told you in earnest.

I bet he didn't. Gus was married to the owner of the diner. The two of them were the biggest busybodies in town. They both had plenty to say about a single woman in her forties. 

“It's absolutely fine. I just haven't long been up. I haven't had my coffee yet, so doing business is a shock to the system.” You put on your brightest smile to put Dave at ease.

“Well, in that case, the least I can do is get you coffee. I was going to the diner anyway, maybe you can escort me?”

A cup of coffee had sounded innocent enough. Then Reba, Gus’ wife and fellow busybody, had gotten involved, and the next thing you know, you and Dave were eating breakfast together and chatting the morning away. You had to admit that even without Reba’s help, Dave was smooth and confident enough to keep you here. The attraction between the two of you was obvious. Dave flirted openly, though he managed to keep it subtle and classy. There was an air of mystery about him. Even beyond his CIA work, there was a cool reservedness under his charming facade. There was an intensity there, too. Sadly, there were not many men who you could imagine as your equal or, in this case superior, but you could easily imagine Dave dominating you…the third interruption to your thoughts of the day comes courtesy of Joel clearing his throat. 

“Sorry to interrupt. I just didn't want to miss our meeting.” Joel lays on the southern charm as he introduces himself to Dave. 

It doesn't take an ex-CIA agent to see it's stretched over an underbed of annoyance. Dave acts just as politely, even with the obvious tension in the air, as he gives Joel his own name and his hand.

After what feels like forever, it's your turn to speak. “My apologies to you both. Dave, it was lovely to meet you. You have your keys. Take your time to inspect the property and get back to me with any issues. I have a meeting with Joel, our very competent contractor, who can handle any last-minute requests for your home. Breakfast is on me, well, the company. Enjoy. Joel, let's head over to the office.” Without looking as you make your way to the door seeking the air that had been sucked out of the room, you can tell Dave and Joel take a moment to eye each other. 

When Joel finally catches up to you outside, you offer him another apology.

“Don't worry about it. You were obviously busy entertaining your client.” The set of his jaw as he speaks makes you think about punching him in it. 

Joel is an extremely handsome man, even with being at home in the same neutral toned flannel every day, you could see him being able to pull off a variety of colours, unfortunately for him envy green didn't suit. The short meeting was conducted in even shorter exchanges. There were no pleasantries or antidotes. No lingering after business was done just to shoot the shit. 

It was barely noon when you got home, but you decided to take a long soak in the tub, hoping to wash away the discomfort of the morning. The bath worked to a certain extent. After some time relaxing on your own, you decide that whatever issue Joel had was on him, and Dave was free to handle it however he liked. Tying your robe at the waist, you watch the last of the bubbles drain and give the claw foot tub a quick rinse. The thought of a hot cup of tea and a book in your cosy chair leads you downstairs without even dressing. The water is simmering when you hear a rap on the kitchen window. You know who it is before you open the door. 

“Joel.” You open curtly.

“Listen, I'm not too good with words, but I wanted to say sorry for this morning. I...damn it…I guess I got jealous when I saw you with another man. Lately, I've been thinking that maybe when the job is over, you would let me take you out on a date.” For a big man, Joel seems awfully small while he gets that all out. Adorably so. Part of you wants to kiss the little patch in his beard. 

“You did alright with your words, Joel. Apology accepted. As for the date, you're right. I would have let you take me on one, but you know as soon as I'm done here, I'm going home. I have to admit this small town living was pretty nice for a while, but I have a career to get back to.” It was your turn to feel small, a career, and not much else. 

“I'm from Texas. We drive hours for a football game. A few hours drive for a date with a beautiful woman is nothing.” The way Joel softens for you makes you melt. 

All too quickly, you are aware of how close his broad chest is and how naked you are under your thin robe. Those large skilled hands could be on your bare skin in moments. The air shifts between you, throwing out more heat than the roaring fire in your living room. The times you've imagined Joel taking you in front of that thing on your lonely nights here was enough to make a sinner blush. As if you had slipped into a cartoon, the stream whistle blows on your kettle. 

“I better…” You pull yourself away from Joel. 

Not having those intense brown eyes looking down at you helps to clear your head. “That's really sweet, Joel. Maybe at another time, I would have jumped at the idea, but I'm going to have so much work to do. I have to get familiar with all of our clients, not just the ones I've handled. I need to research new investors and companies to work with. It's just going to be a lot, and I don't want to lead you on.” As if on autopilot, you pour the water over the tea bag, and it becomes the most fascinating thing in the room as you can't lift your face from it for fear of Joel seeing through you. It's not work that is keeping you from accepting his offer. It's fear. Fear of heartbreak, fear of something between you derailing your future plans, fear of so many unknowns.

“I know when to take no for an answer, but if you change your mind, I get good mileage out of my truck, and I keep the tank full.” You can picture the smirk on his face from his voice.   

It breaks through enough to make you turn to him. Sure enough, he has that smirk that breaks into that dopey grin he gets after he makes a dad joke when you smile at him.

“I'll keep that in mind. Thank you for understanding.” It's not on the little bare patch, but you can't resist placing a kiss on his cheek.

The closeness of the two of you as you pull away draws your faces together until your lips meet a soft, tender kiss. When you pull away, there is a wordless exchange between you with eyes full of longing, regret, and understanding. 

“I'll see you at work tomorrow.” Joel finally provides trying to make things easier on you.

“See you tomorrow, Joel.” You manage a smile for him before seeing him out.

Your tea, book, and cosy chair are long forgotten in favour of throwing yourself on your bed like some lovesick Disney princess. Instead of birds fluttering around you, self-doubt flies about the space of your room. 

The ringing of your phone breaks you out of a slumber that you didn't realise had claimed you. Dave York’s name is on your screen. “Hi, Dave. How are you settling in?” 

Half an hour later, you are sitting at Dave’s breakfast bar as he details a few changes he would like. “These are all very doable.”

Instantly, you regret your choice of words when you see Dave’s face. The look on it makes it very clear that he caught your double entendre.”Where are my manners? I have even offered you anything to drink.”

Dave moves around the kitchen like he has lived there for years. Something tells you that Dave would move around any space like he owned it. Including the space between your legs. The touch of Joel's lips on yours and the memory of the heat of his body has you feeling a way as you watch Dave's hands competently open the bottle of wine he retrieved from the cabinet over the fridge. 

“Red? Or I have some chilled white?” Dave asks as if wine is the only choice.

“Neither, thank you.” You decline while Dave pours himself a healthy glass.

“Alright. You do seem a little tense. I thought it might help you relax. Is it anything to do with your contractor friend?” Dave's line of questioning has you blinking owlishly at him. “I don't mean to pry. He just seemed a bit put out this morning, with us enjoying each other's company, and you don't usually wear that cologne.” All you can do is sit there stunned. A little angry at the audacity, impressed by his attention to detail, a little relieved that it's out in the open. “Look, I know I just got here, but we've been speaking on the phone for a long time now. The way you handle yourself impressed me. Now I have a face, and body, to go with that I'm even more impressed. I enjoyed our breakfast this morning. I'd like to explore that connection further. If things don't work out with your Cowboy Contractor, you can call me. Or I don't mind keeping you company until they do.” Speechless. Speechless and aroused. 

“You know….I think I will have that glass of wine.” No other thoughts enter your head until you have downed at least half a glass of the quality merlot that Dave hands you. “Thank you…for the wine and the interest. I would be interested too. I mean, in you, but I have work…and…and Joel and…I…have to be going to conduct work and…Joel…so goodnight.”

Dave seems amused by your rambling as you make your way to the back door. Smiling broadly, he throws a ‘goodnight’ through the narrow gap in the door before you slam it shut.

Taking to your bed seems like a great option again. Laying there fully dressed, the weight of the day drives you into the mattress. This was not what you needed. Not at this stage in your life or at this time of the year. Tomorrow, you were to help with the Christmas festival and entertain prospective buyers. How were you supposed to be a cheery, innocent Santa's helper when you had thoughts of a different type of ‘ho ho ho’ in your mind? 

A quick ‘stress relief’ session, a shower, and a new pair of silky snowflake adored pyjamas have you more in the festive mind before you drift off to sleep. 

The next morning is non-stop. Both Dave and Joel crossed your path. Dave exchanged morning pleasantries as he returned from a jog in the light snowfall. You remind him about the festival and how important it is. Joel is helping with the stage, so you managed to avoid any long conversation. Aside from your requests from Dave, to be done in the new year, there really wasn't much you had to say to him. He was only going to be here to set up anyway. Lunchtime rolls around, and your stomach pulls you home from the bustling town square to the leftover soup and remainder of yesterday's fresh bread. The drive to the new development was only a few minutes away. When you get there, you wish that it was longer, so you missed the full-blown display of testosterone on your neighbour’s lawn. 

“I told you!” Joel spits.

“What do you want? A fucking medal?” Dave snarls back.

“Hey! What is going on?!” You call as soon as you jump out of your car now parked haphazardly on the street. 

Both men visibly calm.

Joel speaks first. “The power is out for the block. Dave decided to hang some Christmas lights.” You can tell it pains him not to add some dig at Dave.

“You said the festival was important. I wanted to do my part.” Dave tries to appeal to your good nature and high standards. 

“Which would have been great, I'm sure, if you hadn't overloaded the circuit board.” Joel grits out.

Dave moves first, turning squarely to Joel. Joel doesn't move an inch. He just calmly regards Dave’s stance.

“Enough! You can measure who’s is bigger later. Just fix this. Please.” The two of them morphed from scowling dogs to obedient pups at your words.

“We will.” Joel promises with Dave nodding in agreement. 

Thankfully, both your stove and water heater ran off gas, so you are still able to eat and shower before changing into your ridiculous elf costume. White and green striped tights covered your legs, clinging to your curvy thighs. A green and red elf dress and hat made up the rest of the costume, and it was completed with elf ears and sparkly rosy cheek makeup. 

At first, when you spot Joel and Dave through your window congratulating each other on getting the power back on, relief floods you. The day was back on track, and they seemed to be getting on well, bonus. Sadly, the relief is short-lived when they see you leave the house. The two of them exchange glances and acquire matching shit eater grins.

“Nope. I don't want to hear it. The power is on. You two aren't butting heads on the lawn. Do not ruin it.” You yell at them while scrambling into your car as quickly as possible before they spoil your mood with any jokes.

The festivities went well. The prospective buyers seemed overjoyed with the place. The current town residents seemed to approve of the applicants. Three new families are bringing eight children between them. The adults include a veterinarian, a teacher, and a nurse. Two well-off, quiet retired couples. The business woman was a no show, but she did travel a lot last minute as she'd told you. Santa proved very popular and you by association. It did warm your heart to hand out candy canes and see the children's happy faces. Best of all, Joel and Dave spent most of the day busy somewhere else and only turned up at the end of the day with some booze laden eggnog courtesy of Reba. 

“Wow. That could strip paint.” You comment before taking another healthy gulp.

“Easy. We might have to carry you home.” Joel laughs before taking a cautious sip from his own cup. 

“Please. I can handle my booze.” You scoff.

Dave raised his eyebrows in approval before raising his cup. “I'll drink to that.”

A few paint-stripped nogs later, the three of you amble home. You are in the middle flanked by your burly protectors. 

“You two seem to be getting on better, or is it just the alcohol?” The alcohol has certainly loosened you up. There was no way you would poke the bear like that sober.

“We talked while we worked on the electricity.” Dave begins to explain.

“I don't think she needs all the details.” Joel tries to laugh the whole thing off. Dave doesn't take any notice as he carries on. “You and Joel clearly have a thing, and he was here first, so I'm not going to muscle in on his territory. We've good.”

Joel lets out a quiet ‘goddammit’ as you come to an abrupt stop. “Oh? We've good are we? You two have decided that? You have decided that Joel can lay claim to me since he's planted his flag?!”

“Really? I just thought you kissed.” Dave quips.

Joel looks like he wants to take a swing at the other man.

“So you two have decided who I want? Well, the joke is on you. I want you both.” Wow, the alcohol has just removed your filter completely. “I don't have time for relationships or dating, but it's been a lonely year here, and I want sex and if you two think you can just choose for me, then I can choose you both.”

The indignant tone in your voice is undercut by the bell on your hat tinkling as you fold your arms across your chest. 

Dave stalks towards you like a creature in the night. “When you say both, do you mean at the same time? I mean, I'm game. I don't know about, Tex, here.” 

The light brush of his fingers across your cheek makes you tremble. The touch adds weight to his words. That's all this is right now, words. They could just walk about, and nothing would come of it. Then Joel moves, too. With complete purpose, straight at you. The kiss he gives you now is nowhere near as chaste as the last one. It's a burning brand of his desire on you. It leaves no doubt of Joel's intentions towards you. When it ends for a moment, you understand what people mean when they say the earth moved. Until you realised Dave had swept you up in his arms. For a second, that little insecure voice worried about him carrying your extra pounds, but it was left in the metaphorical dust as Dave carried you easily through the snow to your door. 

With shaking fingers, you try to retrieve the keys from your tiny green felt pouch. When you can't, Dave shoves the purse at Joel, who quickly opens the door while Dave gets his first kiss with you. It's a precision assault with his tongue. He knows just the right amount to use to have you breathless. 

The two muscular men block your doorway for a moment when you pull them both in at the same time. Following your lead and using the momentum, the two of them press you into the wall opposite. Dave’s thigh presses between your legs as the two of them kiss your neck. Joel's work hardened hand is gentle as it cups your breasts in turn, thumbing each nipple as he goes. The arousal the action brings jerks your hips into Dave’s tensed thigh. 

“You're needy, huh?” Dave teases with his words, and then his hands as he cups your mound. His fingers are spread just so to tease without giving you friction where you need it most.

“Please.” You whisper against Joel's lips as he kisses you once more. 

Joel doesn't tease. His thick fingers hitch your skirt up and dive below the waistband of your tights and panties. The first sweep of his fingertips where you need him has your toes curling in your little elf shoes.

“So we're just diving straight in?” Dave shrugs as he drops to his knees. 

His moves are no longer light, but they are just as calculated. Ripping the gusset out of your festive tights, he pulls your panties to the side and fills you with two thick digits. A quick come hither motion makes your knees buckle, and Joel pins you up with his hip. With you nestled into his side, Joel takes full advantage of exclusive access to your lips. These kisses are less urgent. He delicately gets to know what you like. Just as he does with his movements on your clit. He follows every whimper and moan changing his pace and pressure to suit. Dave on the other hand has found the spot he's looking for and is relentlessly pumping his fingers in and out. The noise is obscene in your picturesque little hallway. The cusses that spill from your lips as you come around Dave’s fingers are even worse. 

“With a mouth like that, you're definitely on the naughty list.” Joel grins, his eyes full of adoration. They darken for a second before he whispers in your ear. “You need your mouth washed out.”

“I hear Paris is lovely this time of year.” Dave chimes in, in between licking your release off of his fingers. 

With a plan in mind, the three of you end up in your bedroom. Clothes had all been shed on the way. Some you'd pulled off yourselves. Some had been torn off by others. Somehow, you had ended up on the bed looking up at the two beautifully naked men. Joel was broad and thick with a dark trail of curls leading down to his long, girthy cock. Dave was more lean but no less muscular. His hair was neatly trimmed around the base of his longer, thinner, curved cock. 

After you take your time to appreciate them, you reach for them. They lay on either side of you. Their hands run over every inch of your plush flesh. As they kiss, lick and nibble their way over every curve until you are dizzy with need. 

Eventually, Joel's hand skims between your legs. 

“Fuck.” He breathes, returning his hand there to feel the wetness pooling. 

Dave doesn't need any more feedback. He has you ready on your knees before you know it. His cock waiting at your entrance for any signal that you have changed your mind. The only signal you give him is sliding back down his length. You expect some smartass remark, all he gives you is a long moan as he fully bottoms out. You think you might get a softer side of Dave, until he starts thrusting hard and deep. He is so relentless that when Joel brings his weeping tip to your lips you don't even have to think about your movements, your lips just part around him and the movement of your whole body has your head bobbing around him. Only when his thick head nudges your throat do you think to bring your hand, lips, and tongue into play if only to allow you to breathe if nothing else. Dave’s balls slap against you violently as you cup Joel's gently kneading them. Joel whines at the act and threads his hand into your hair. It's more of a caring gesture than a dominant one. His thumb caresses the side of your head. Dave’s thrusts are maddeningly accurate. The pleasure is building rapidly. You don't know how much strength you'll have left once your orgasm hits. You can already tell it will be all consuming and leave you boneless. Desperately, you work Joel harder with your hand. It glides up and down his girth with ease from all the drool they have forced from you. Sucking him into your throat, you trace the thick vein of his shaft with your tongue. Your moans escalate and come out muffled. Dave grunts are pure filth as he nears his climax. Joel leaves you perplexed when he pulls his cock out.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart.” He pants as he starts fucking his own fist. “Is Dave making you feel good? Is he working my pussy right?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh, god.” You grip the sheets beneath you hovering on the edge of oblivion. 

“Fuck. You know he's just getting a taste, right? That that little cunt is mine afterwards?” The groan that comes from Joel's chest makes you clamp down around Dave. 

“Oh, shit. She likes that. Fuck. Fuck.” Dave's movements speed up clearly on the edge of spilling into you. 

“Yeah? You like me talking about how that cunt is mine? Be a good girl and milk his cock for all it's worth.” Your body listens to Joel before you even process his words. 

“Fuuuuck. Ugh.” Dave gasps as he fills you with rope after rope of his cum. He carries on thrusting until he's soft, driving his seed deep.

“Tongue out.” Joel groans.

You react just in time to catch the second spurt across your face. 

“Oh. Ohh.” Joel's hand keeps fisting his cock until he is thoroughly wrung out. His cum covers your cheeks and chin.

As post orgasm clarity sets in, Joel silently hands you his shirt to clean up while Dave wanders off to find his clothes. 

The Christmas festival in Honeymire seems like a lifetime ago. In reality, it has only been a year. The cosy chair that once looked out over the town now looks out over the skyline of the city. The view that your promotion bought you in your dream penthouse apartment. Everything had gone to plan. With maybe a couple of exceptions.

“Hey, Mama, we're home.” The familiar voice of your boyfriend calls from the front door while he kicks off his shoes.

“Hi, was my baby good? Were you a good girl?” You coo as you pick the carrier up to check on the furry occupier while she can't sculk away from your affection. 

“She was great. The new vet gave her a clean bill of health. I had a hard time explaining why she's called ‘Freeloader’.” Joel kisses your cheek after hanging up his jacket. 

“She eats my food, growls at me and has a weird way of showing her affection. What else would I call her?” You shrug.

“In my experience? Ellie.” Joel snorts.

You muse as you let your furry dependant loose. “They do have the same ‘cross me and I'll cut you’ vibe. Even if they are both adorable with it.” 

Joel smiles broadly at the thought of the challenging teen who managed to get into environmental law. “Yeah. I'm just glad she's channeling that energy into saving the world.”

The prideful look on Joel's face makes you love him even more. You can't  help but cuddle into him. “Speaking of, when are the girls leaving Tommy's after Christmas?”

Joel thinks for a moment. “The 29th. Why?”

Laying your head on his shoulder, you nonchalantly reply. “Nothing. Just Dave texted and asked if we wanted to spend New Year's in Paris.”

[muscari-midala]

Emergency Presents for a Certain Android

David x reader

word count: 669

Crossposted on Ao3

a/n: I really just typed that over the span of 2 - 3 hours because the dear @elecctromechanika hit me with "I thought about David getting his own handmade stocking" like a brick in the face and I HAD to write that asap because he deserves his own Stocking!!

Man, you were STRESSED!

It was the 24th of December, and you hadn’t really expected anyone to celebrate Christmas out here. But then there was Idris Janek.

Right after waking from cryosleep, he’d put up a little Christmas tree. And now he’d even laid out Christmas stockings beneath it!

Why were you so stressed? Because, of course, no one had thought about the crew’s android. So you hurried back to your quarters and dumped every bundle of yarn you had onto the bed, sorting through the various colors.

This stash was meant for relaxing and passing the time when you weren’t actively needed on the mission - but oh well, not this time.

You flopped down onto the couch, put on the extended cut of The Lord of the Rings, and got to work.

For the stocking, you chose a classic red-and-white Santa Claus color scheme, using thick, bulky yarn to finish it faster. And surprisingly, it worked out well. The finishing touch was crocheting the name “David” with thin red yarn into the white top rim. Et voilà!

But now came the real obstacle - what do you gift a synthetic person on a spaceship?

You hadn’t exactly packed an array of patterns, figuring you’d only be making scarves or the occasional cozy project, not emergency Christmas presents.

Fumbling through the yarn, you wracked your brain for ideas that weren’t potholders. Did he even cook? No, probably not, bad idea.

He liked movies, right? Quoting lines here and there? Did he read physical books or only digital ones? It didn’t matter - he was getting a crocheted bookmark either way.

Maybe a coffee cozy… but did he even drink or eat? You hadn’t seen him do that, but it was the thought that counted, right?

By the time you were done, you’d reached the end of the second movie.

After tossing in some coasters with random designs and a small case no bigger than your palm, you stretched your stiff, knotted fingers.

Praise the hyperfocus - at least this time, or you wouldn’t have finished so quickly.

Stuffing the gifts into the stocking, you tiptoed through the empty, grey corridors until you reached the common area. After a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, you played the role of a secret Christmas elf, placing David’s stocking alongside the others before quietly sneaking back to your room.

On Christmas morning, everyone gathered for breakfast and excitedly checked their stockings.

Each person found a few sweets, Fifield even pulled out a small pebble and side-eyed Millburn, who sheepishly looked away.

And then there was David, brows furrowed in confusion as he stared at the noticeably different stocking with his name on it.

A clap on his back startled him.

“Looks like a Christmas angel got something for you too!”

You? A Christmas angel? The comment made you blush, which he, of course, noticed and made him grin.

David followed his gaze and stared at you for a moment before turning back to the stocking.

“You made this… for me?”

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, you walked over and nodded.

“There wasn’t one for you, and I didn’t want you to be empty-handed. It’s not very detailed, but there are some gifts inside. I hope they’re okay.”

Rubbing the back of your neck, you watched as David carefully pulled out each handmade present, studying every row.

“I appreciate it. I’ve never received a gift before.”

That made you frown. Never? Not a single little gift?

New mission unlocked.

“If that’s the case, I’ll make you more.”

Was that… an honest smile on his lips?

“But I don’t have anything for you.”

Waving off the comment, you replied, “Doesn’t matter. Maybe I’ll make you some slippers so you don’t walk around in those flip-flops anymore.”

Glancing down at his feet, you were surprised by him putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Thank you. Merry Christmas, (L/N).”

You beamed at him, deciding that every strained, aching finger had been worth it.

“Merry Christmas, David.”

[dayseternal-blog]

Summary: After years of war and bloodshed, the Uchiha and remaining members of the Uzumaki clan joined forces with the Senju. Within the space of one generation, several other clans forfeit to their combined strength, while others futilely resist.

Tasked to bring the weakening yet stubborn Hyuuga clan down swiftly and silently, Naruto successfully infiltrates their territory. And then promptly messes up.

Rebooting this really old wip for @kilandra-mordea's Secret Santa gift for NaruHina Month 2024!

Rated T.

"Trust" - Chapter 1: A Really Important Mission

No, he didn’t underestimate his enemy.

Although circumstances might suggest differently.

Her knees and feet pushing the air out of his lungs, the fight out of his legs.  His arm twisted in her tight grasp, and the other shoulder dislocated.

His own sword pointed, tip steady and sharp, at his very vulnerable throat.

No, he knows too well to underestimate a woman warrior.  Any woman who can succeed on the battlefield has twice the skills of any common man, and he’s learned that the hard way many years before today.

So…

Fierce animosity sparks behind the lightest eyes he’s ever seen.  Pearly.  Far too pretty on a gently shaped, feminine face…

No, he didn’t underestimate her!

He manages a grin, not a grimace.  “Before you finish the job, would you do me the honor of your name?”

Gentle brows furrow ever closer, and for a second, that cold animosity is replaced by surprised confusion.

For one second.

And she’s twisting his arm even harder than before.  “Who’s your master?  Answer me.”

There’s no way he’ll betray Tsunade, even when he’s more than just a little sore about her not mentioning there would be a gorgeous, young--

The sting of her sword pricks into his throat, and his eyes dart back up from the cleavage peeking through the loosening folds of her bedclothes.  It seems like even the very threat of decapitation doesn’t stop the ingrained habits of his teachers…

No, he didn’t underestimate her, right?

“Does it matter?  I’m dead as of now, anyway.  Either you’re slicing my head off--” He makes a schliiick sound for added drama, “--and my blood gets to spurt all over you, or I stab myself in the guts, rearrange my innards, and spill my stomach on your tatami.”  He visibly muses his options, somehow finding humor in his last minutes alive, and he takes it as a personal win when her nose scrunches up in distaste.

“You can’t do that, this is my bedroom,” she argues, as if he was unaware.

“Then I guess we’ll have to take this outside.”

She frowns deeper.  “Not in my garden!”

“Then where?”  And he can’t help a more genuine smile sneaking up on his lips even as new ideas to complete his mission float about his mind.

It’s all halfhearted plans, though.  He was doomed from the start.  Before any of them could have known.

He can’t kill someone like her.

It was that one second of hesitation that sealed his fate.  He could’ve murdered her.  It would’ve been too easy.  Too simple.

And therefore too wrong.

It’s not farfetched to think he was never cut out for this lifestyle.  He never really handled these kinds of missions well, and killing in cold blood was always difficult.  To separate his mind from his body.  To cut off his heart from his actions.  He could always manage.

On old men.  (Who were fathers).

On young men.  (Who were sons and brothers).

He’s known for some time now that the Hyuuga head was the infamous and powerful Hiashi.  A man with strong life force despite his age, supposedly the strongest in the family.  Intel told him he’d find a cruel man in the Main House.

“When I say so, you’re going to get up and walk with me.  One wrong move and I’ll--schliiick--slice your legs off.”  She sounds way too collected for such a serious joke, and it’s...

Just not funny anymore.

Reality is starting to settle in.  The moon lighting up her delicate features instead casts the shadow of death across the room.

At least it seems she’ll grant him an honorable death.

In less than two seconds, she’s got him rolled over, hands locked in one of her arms, and she’s urging him to stand.  “Get up.”

He staggers to his feet, and he doesn’t fail to notice that she makes good on her promises.  His sword is now angled at his legs, ready to hack him off at the knees.

Internally, he’s readying himself for his death, trying to find some kind of empty, zen-like peace.

Outwardly, he’s majorly aware of the softness of her nightwear at his forearms, her chest pressing into his back.

What a way to go.  His one and only opportunity in life to feel a woman, and it’s on his death march.

“Walk,” she murmurs, and he’s suddenly way too aware of the fact that her voice is...soft.

Obediently, as he has no other real options anyway, he steps forward.

Blunt pain lances into his neck, the world shifts in a split-second realization, and all fades to nothing.

---

Chapter 2, which is completely new stuff, will be posted tomorrow!!!

[dont-offend-the-bees]

DontOffendTheBees' DBDA Fic Masterpost

Or, essentially, my 2024 Ao3 Wrapped because this show is all I've posted on main all year 😅 But it's nice to be back in the swing of writing and it's been such a rough year, so I'm gonna take a minute now to bask in the glow of my accomplishments 💛

(please note fic links are to Ao3, and fics are locked to be visible to registered users only!)

Ongoing Fics:

Oh, Lonely Bones, Have You Forgotten? (M, 31.9k, ch. 3/4, Charles/Edwin)

A haunting little odyssey of Edwin finding his earthly remains, and figuring out where the hell to go from there. Was hoping to finish this off before the year was out but pain and other projects sadly got in the way! Don't worry, she will be complete one day, I swear!

Somewhere Beyond the Sea (T, 7k, ch 1/5, Charles/Edwin)

A sweet and magical Payneland Ponyo AU, written originally as a Secret Santa gift and then ballooning WAY out of proportion! I'm so, so excited for how this one turns out!

One-shots:

The Kind of Light That Means Just Love (When My Baby Smiles at Me) (T, 1.4k, Charles/Edwin)

Where it all began, a little ficlet I wrote based on a writing group prompt which made me realised how much fun the character voices were to play with. Short and sweet, Charles takes photos of Edwin and finds ways to be cheerful about it even when he doesn't show up in them.

Outside Looking In (T, 3.6k, Charles/Edwin)

Outsider POV fic in which Charles and Edwin are overhead having a very strange but sweet conversation while in their older disguises. While this was an early fic and there's probably some stuff I'd change about the dialogue if I wrote it now, I'm so fond of it and I'm touched by the response to it - ESPECIALLY in the form of Robin's incredible gifset! (this gifset MUST be reblogged by everyone, btw.)

The Scenic Route (T, 2.1k, Charles/Edwin)

A short, sweet little agency outing and Payneland get-together, written in large part to daydream of a better world of public transportation while I was stuck standing on a cross-country train for two hours.

No Rehearsing It, No Reversing It (T, 9.3k, Charles/Edwin)

Mandatory 'Charles massively overthinks getting together with Edwin' fic, a comedy of errors, featuring foiled kissing schemes, party games, flimsy excuses, and my first fateful foray into discovering how fun Cat King is to write.

’Cause You Cut Through All the Noise (M, 5.3k, Charles/Edwin)

First day of Payneland week, what a time! Edwin helps Charles calm down from a panic spiral with a healthy application of sweet, gently non-sexual dom/sub play, featuring sweet words and soothing games of cat's cradle.

Though We're Strangers 'Til Now (T, 4.7k, Charles/Edwin)

Payneland week day 2. One of my more out-there concepts; in the campy tradition of Saturday night British fantasy telly a la Merlin or Atlantis, Charles and Edwin take the mythological roles of Theseus and Ariadne. This fic exists in large part due to @every-moment-a-different-sound making me aware of Payneland week and asking me to collaborate, and once again, it is COMPULSORY that you go and reblog their GORGEOUS SHOWSTOPPING INCREDIBLE GIFS.

I Got Sunshine in a Bag (T, 1.2k, Charles/Edwin)

Payneland week day 3. The little script-format fic where (spoiler alert) Charles confesses his feelings to Edwin in the safe haven of his own magical bag of tricks. Sweet and silly!

Something I Can Turn To (T, 2.4k, Charles/Edwin)

Payneland week day 4. The AU where Charles and Edwin are alive in the same era, and helped each other survive the brutality of their teenage years. This one was so lovely to write and there's a little bittersweet hollow in my heart carved out for it. This fic also spawned this absolutely lovely art by @yasartmeme (GO REBLOG, GIVE IT LOVE) and a collection of related stories by several wonderful authors. Every time someone else dips their toe into this universe it warms my chilly little heart.

If the Shoe Fits, Then I Won’t Try It On (T, 2k, Charles/Edwin)

Payneland week day 5. Another outing with the disguises; pre-canon, Charles and Edwin on a case, getting used to their new magic disguises and constructing dubious backstories.

Spinning on That Dizzy Edge (M, 1k, Charles/Edwin)

Payneland week day 6. Short little flirty, steamy, fun date night with Charles and Edwin in a haunted pub, with a piano <3

Lived My Whole Life Before the First Light (M, 7.3k, Charles/Edwin)

Payneland week day 7. AKA the attic scene, as told in a soulmate AU. A few people who don't generally like soulmate AU's have told me this one plays with the concept in a way they found interesting and refreshing! Suffice it to say there's a happy ending, but not of the sort generally associated with the genre. And this one comes with yet another mandatory-reblog gifset, this one by @mellxncollie, which is SO beautiful and should be in an art gallery and truly such an honour to bestow upon my little words 💛

We Glimpse Each Other Out of Phase (T, 3.7k, Charles/Edwin)

Another little instalment in the Alive AU of Something I Can Turn To, this time a bittersweet domestic scene on a sleepless night in the kitchen.

Wise Men Build Their Houses on Rocks While the Rest of Us Settle for Skeletons (M, 2.2k, Cat King/Edwin)

First foray into Catwin! (or at least first on the main account 😉) Edwin digs through the Cat King's magical artifacts; and finds an ominous relic of his past lives.

Sink Your Teeth Right Through My Bones, Baby (M, 0.6k, Charles/Edwin)

First of the spotify wrapped inspired ficlets! A little glimpse into Edwin's mind as he and Charles cautiously approach a new dynamic in the bedroom.

Looks Like We’re In for Nasty Weather (T, 0.6k, Charles/Edwin)

Wrapped ficlet. Edwin and Charles brace themselves in the face of an ominous supernatural storm brewing.

Keep Me Warm, Love Me Long, Be My Sunlight (T, 1k, Cat King/Edwin/Charles)

Wrapped ficlet, and preview of the Ghostcat 1920s AU currently in the works by myself, @dear-monday and @tw0-ravens! In a sun-drenched loft in the last days of summer, Thomas contemplates what he has, and when he'll lose it.

Should I Cool It, or Should I Blow? (M, 1.9k, Cat King/Charles)

Wrapped ficlet. The Cat King confronts Charles after another little enemies-with-benefits hook-up for a little clarification on what, exactly, he's doing with his life.

And that about wraps it up for 2024! But I'll keep adding underneath this post when I inevitably write more -- so I'll be seeing you guys in '25! 🥰 Thank you thank you THANK YOU everyone who's shown me such incredible support over this year, this has been such an unbelievably fun fandom experience and I'm excited to sink my teeth into even more and longer fics next year 💛💛💛

My 2024 Writing Stats:

Works Published: 19 Word Count: 89,859 Top 3 fics (by kudos): 1. Outside Looking In 2. No Rehearsing It, No Reversing It 3. The Scenic Route

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 118

Part 1 Part 117

Winter break passes better than summer had for Will. Mom’s loosened his leash enough that he can go to the arcade unsupervised, or hang out at Dustin’s house, or sequester himself in Mike’s stuffy basement and run a campaign like the good old days.

El closed the gate, and everyone’s convinced the Upside-Down is gone. Only Steve, Eddie, and Will can feel their connection stretch the miles between their abodes and know the truth: it’s not over.

Things will never be the same again.

Will doesn’t mention it. This little slice of normalcy is far too precious to jeopardize with the truth.

The holiday’s in the Byers house have always been low-key, but it’s been worse since last year. They don’t even put up lights anymore. No one’s told him why, and he hasn’t asked.

Still, when he asks his Mom, she gladly agrees to host their extended family. They’d done it at the Munson’s last year, hemmed into a space far too small for that many bodies.

It’s Eddie who suggests a secret santa exchange. Everyone huddles in Will’s living room, pulling names from one of Wayne’s baseball caps, groaning when Carol draws the last slip and it’s her own name. They crumple the pieces and try again.

Will stares down at El’s name and sneaks furtive looks up at her. She wasn’t around last Chrismtas, still holed up in Chief Hopper’s cabin pretending not to exist. But, her leash has been loosened as well, so here she is, beaming down at her own drawn name and bouncing on her toes with excitement.

Has she ever celebrated a holiday before? Has she ever even gotten a present?

It’s a lot of pressure. He feels it pushing down on him, but then Steve throws his arm around Will’s shoulders and initiates their usual tug, tug, tug ritual, and it all eases off. Like, Steve, even unknowingly, will always take the weight off Will’s shoulders and carry it himself.

He stares down at the piece of paper and starts to plan.

It takes the entire allotted two weeks to finish. He stares down at the finished project. Will she like it? Is he skipping over some boundary he doesn’t even know is there?

It doesn’t matter: he’s out of time, so he rolls the paper up and pushes it carefully into one of Jonathan’s old poster tubes, and rushes into the living room to wrap it.

Everyone gathers, sitting on couches and chairs and the carpet. Dustin crouches in the corner where they’d all piled their presents, squinting at small handwriting and passing around a variety of parcels.

They go in a circle, gift after gift. Will opens his own, beaming down at a trio of hand-painted figures from Lucas.

When Jonathan opens his, he stares down at it, mouth opening and closing, no sounds coming out. Will leans over to peer around the half-unwrapped gift to see what’s robbed him of speech.

It’s a cassette player, still in the original box, and it must be nice based on the way Jonathan’s staring at it like it’s the holy grail.

“I put a tape in it for you to listen to,” Steve says. His cheeks are pink, and he’s twiddling the ring on his pinkie. “You said I owed you one.”

Jonathan reaches out to pry the box open, staring in like he’ll find the answers to the meaning of life rather than a cassette player. “I was kidding,” Jonathan replies, but he’s smiling down at it now as he pulls it out of the box and pops the deck to look at what’s inside.

“You don’t even want to know what Stevie here had to do to get Johnny boy's name from the draw,” Eddie says, smiling from where he’s sitting on the rug. Steve elbows him in the ribs, but he just keeps talking. “And then he had to do it all over again when Perky Perkins screwed all his hard work and drew her own name.”

Carol gasps, rounding on Steve and kicking out at him ruthlessly close to his crotch. “You told him?” she shrieks.

Will has no idea what they’re on about but he laughs along with everyone else, watching all three of them descend into an all-out wrestling match like the children they’re not.

It doesn’t stop until they get dangerously close to knocking over the TV, and Mom claps to get their attention. They all settle back in to finish opening presents.

Because Will’s life has always been an unlucky one, El goes last. His anxiety ratchets up with every minute that passes, reaching an all-time-high as she finally starts peeling the paper away.

Unlike the rest of them, she picks the tape off the foil, peeling it away, careful not to rip the paper at all. She folds it all nicely, and hands it to Chief Hopper for safe-keeping.

She then stares down at the cardboard tube, brow furrowed until Mike tells her she has to open the other end. El flips the tube on its head, pulls off the top, and pulls out the rolled up paper inside.

With that same characteristic care, she unrolls it, only to gasp at what she finds. Will watches her face, digging his fingernails into his thighs.

“What is it?” Chief Hopper asks, leaning over her shoulder to ger a peek. He looks down at it with an expressionless face before smiling and patting her shoulder.

El nods, not looking away from the page in front of her.

Will has limited supplies, but he’d used all the best colored pencils he owns, and had Jonathan buy him a big piece of paper from Melvald’s.

On one edge of the page stands El. She looks fierce the way she has every time he’s seen her use her powers, hand raised and a huge beam of white light cutting across the darkness.

Within that beam, he’s painted all the people in this room. First, Chief Hopper in his police uniform, standing beside Mom, gun raised and pointed toward the darkness. Then, Mike, Lucas, and Dusin, dressed as their D&D characters holding a variety of weapons. Will, Steve, and Eddie stand farther along the page, back to back to back as they cover each other’s weak bits. Then Jonathan and Nancy, Nancy with a gun, and Jonathan slightly behind her, all ready to face whatever comes out of the darkness. And at the farthest corner, Barb stands with a baseball bat covered in nails, Carol standing slightly behind her, pointing into the darkness like she’s clueing Barb in on a monster’s location.

The whole thing ended up a little messy. Nancy’s hands look wonky, and there’s something wrong with Steve’s nose, but El’s beaming down at it like it’s the Mona Lisa.

“Be careful with it until we can get a frame for it,” Chief Hopper says, hand still clasping onto her shoulder.

She looks up at him, smiling even wider as she asks, “I can put it in my room?”

“Of course, kid.”

El stares down at the page for a few seconds more before rolling it back up with slow movements, making it small enough that it slides perfectly into its roll. She puts it on Chief Hopper’s lap, staring down at it for a second like she can’t bear to look away.

She then barrels across the room, colliding with Will so hard that they both end up on the carpet. “Thank you, Will,” El says, clutching onto him hard.

He pats her back awkwardly, looking around the room for help and finding none. “You’re welcome.”

“It is the best present I have ever gotten.”

That makes Will a little sad, but all he says is, “Merry Christmas.” He waits uncomfortably for her to get off him so he can sit back up.

It’s not long until everyone starts trickling out, Carol and Barbara herding Max and Lucas along with them to drop off, and Nancy snagging Mike and Dustin after sharing a kiss with Jonathan that Eddie makes barfing noises at.

Chief Hopper shepherds El into his truck, and Wayne follows them out, off to work the night shift.

Only Eddie and Steve stay. They all pile into Will’s room. His bed’s not big enough for the three of them, so they curl around each other on the floor, blankets haphazardly piled atop them.

It doesn’t take Will long to fall asleep, comfortable with Steve and Eddie at his back, the comforting sounds of his Mom cleaning up in the other room.

Part 119

[violet-ophelia-boss]

This is for the: "hermit secret Santa"! gift for: @renp0d

(sorry for the mistakes in this fic)

On the hermitcraft server, there was a calm sound of the cold winter wind and the various machines they had made. Mumbo woke up and looked at his window: the snow was everywhere, not in a bad way of course, and so he knew Christmas was getting closer and closer. He checked his mail: various lawsuits as usual, tax fraud, neck kisses from his neighbors… and a letter with attached a big box. It was from Ren. It said: “Hello, my fellow friend! I heard you needed these redstone materials for one of your shops and some future projects. So here ya go mate! Hope you choose them wisely. When you use them, think of me also :]. -Ren the diggity dog”.

When mumbo opened happily the box, he saw 2 stacks of redstone dust, 30 redstone blocks, 10 redstone comparators and a stack of redstone torches. The guy was shocked. How did he make so many? Did he farm them or do them by hand? Mumbo then happily took the materials and secured them in a chest, then going straight to grian’s base. “GRIAN, GRIAN, GUESS WHAT?” shouts happily while shaking the other, which was reading a book while sitting on his chair. “I know mumbo, I know. You got redstone stuff from Ren. You messaged me 2 seconds ago about it. He gave me some materials so I can ‘finish the back of my building’ as well" says grian, tired. His friend giggled a bit, making him laugh it off the situation. “We should give him a gift, just like he did with us, I think” says mumbo to the other, who was closing his book and position it on the table. Then he put his hands on the other’s shoulders, looking at him in the eyes and asked “are you freaking saying that we should give him a Christmas present?”. “Yeah, why shouldn’t we after all?” responded mumbo, fixing his mustache. “Fine. But we both don’t have anything good that we could give him.” Accepted grian, looking around his chests. “Guess we have to search” says mumbo, already preparing his elytra and fireworks in hand. Then they both started flying, going where no one built something or took materials from. !Then they both landed, they immediately started brainstorming something good to give him, something rare, that he would be excited for.

“xp bottles?”, “that’s lame as fu-”. “An Elytra?”, “He has at least six of them mumbo!”. “An orange sheep?”, “He can literally steal one from Xisuma…”. “Diamonds?”, “mumbo, it’s like we’re giving him money to buy stuff. He needs something better!”. After a lot of arguing later, they both found something he’d like: custom discs, some which he can personalize and normal discs, which he can enjoy. Now there’s a problem: how can they have these disks, especially the custom ones? “A skeleton and creeper farm” says mumbo. “You sure?” asks grian. “Yes, now let’s get to work!”. They did a structure made out of many layers if stone and a lot of hope the creepers won’t blow up in their face, with a stone roof so they can break the spawner and take the discs without being hurt too much. After a lot of hope and time, the plan got just as planned. They took the disks, which were 12, with 4 that were a copy of another. They will be the ones who are going to be blank. “Mumbo, you know how to do that right… RIGHT?”. Mumbo was shaking, thinking what they should do. Eventually, Xisuma helped them, without asking why the heck they need that feature. So, after nearly blowing up a disc, many and many deaths by mumbo and moments of insanity later, they did it. They re- named the 4 discs, and put all of them into a shulker box, waiting for Ren to wake up.

Eventually, on the 22nd of that snowy December, he woke up. Then he saw grian and mumbo at his doorstep, saying “happy Christmas, Ren!”. “Aww thank you guys, you didn’t’ have to…” says Ren, blushing for the embarassment.” Wow! Music discs! With customed ones. Thanks guys! You could’ve just gave me flowers, but thanks!” says Ren, hugging the other two. Afterwards, grian and mumbo got to Big Ron’s shop and started contemplating the wall, cursing their idea of giving Ren something that good, still thinking about what he said.

Hope you enjoyed the fic :D

[mothmansparamour]

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