#Jesus WHO? now give thanks to Santa

[cheapcheapfaker]

“put the Christ back in Christmas” the self flagellation I’ve done trying to get my kids first photo with Santa cannot be described as anything less than catholic wdym

[orcelito]

Ok. Real question. How many people Actually have believed in Santa? Bc I never did, mostly bc my dad never bothered with the entire pretense, so the whole concept is just. Really fucking strange to me

Putting an actual poll bc I feel like I'm losing my mind a bit thinking about how apparently widespread it is. Like. It's just so... weird? Why is this the thing people have popularized? It makes no sense.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

🎄 Under The Mistletoe 🎄

Someone in Hellfire plays matchmaker between you and Eddie ❤️ Featuring mischievous Hellfire members, pesky mistletoe and lots of fluff 🎄

Going to open my requests for a little while so if you have any holiday requests then let me know. 💌

🎄❄️

There's a very good reason. Why the holiday season is a wonderful time. For a boy and girl to fall in love.

Cause Santa and Cupid, planned exactly what you did, When you kissed me by the mistletoe above.

We stood there kissin' by the mistletoe. Tingle, tingle. Muah, muah, muah, and away we go, jingle, jingle.

Kissin' by the mistletoe, love came to stay and now it's Christmas every day.

Aretha Franklin - Kissing by the mistletoe 🎄

❄️🎄

Christmas had arrived in Hawkins. The snow was falling casting in the town in an image of a perfect winter wonderland. All Eddie had heard for the last couple of days was festive tunes and jingles, he did like Christmas but this was a bit much.

He couldn't exactly say that he had the best Christmas growing up, when his mom was around it felt special to him, she adored Christmas and Eddie loved that it made her happy.

Then he was left with just his old man and those were the worst times, Uncle Wayne was his bubble of safety and normality then and now. Thanks to uncle Wayne his love of Christmas has returned slowly.

Did that mean he wanted to be driven crazy by hiliday tunes? No. Then there was his enemy of the season. Mistletoe.

All week he had seen giggly, kissing and loved up couples, they were driving him mad. It made him grumpy and twitchy and he avoided the cursed plant like the plague.

At least when he was in the drama club and safely ensconced in all things Hellfire Club related he could relax. He had spent some time earlier setting up for the campaign and it was a good one, a mini adventure which was Christmas themed of course and very exciting.

For a few hours he could be in total DM mode and nothing mistletoe related could happen...

🎄⛄

At five o'clock on the dot Dustin arrived with Lucas and Mike, then everyone else hurried in. Eddie ignores the way his heart skips a beat when he sees you.

"Gentlemen and ladies welcome to this special edition of Hellfire, where we can enjoy the delights of our new festive themed quest and avoid the evil plants of doom... I swear If I see one more hint of mistletoe I'll..."

"Eddie" you say softly and that captures his attention as you point up to the ceiling, he stops mid-rant and his eyes bug out as he sees the mistletoe hung above him. No. Jesus H Christ, no.

The mistletoe was directly above you and Eddie.

His eyes narrow and he looks around the room immediately suspicious, Jeff and Gareth are sniggering to themselves but stop at the look on his face.

"Who did this?" he hisses to the rest of the group and looks at each of them in turn. No one is owning up to putting the mistletoe there and that frustrates him even more because that dreaded thing wasn't there at any other point of the day.

It wasn't there when he was setting up earlier, no pesky mistletoe was in sight and yet now it was just casually hanging above his head, directly above his chair. "That wasn't here earlier, so one of you little shits did this" he snaps.

He could feel himself sweating as you peered up at him, fuck. It's not like he didn't want to kiss you, he really wanted to but he highly doubted that you wanted to kiss him. Why would you?

"We don't have to do this" he says to you, he would never want you to feel pressured into kissing him. He was going to kill (the character) of whoever did this in the most violent way possible.

"Eddie" the way you say his name makes his knees turn to jelly, his usual confidence and don't give a fuck attitude is long gone and now he's terrified.

You see Eddie was totally smitten with you but didn't realise you were equally smitten with him. Which is what brings us to mischievous elves (Hellfire members) plotting this escapade.

Then your lips meet his and he swears his brain short circuits just for a second, he melts into the kiss and then he's kissing you back and you let out a soft moan that goes straight to uh...places and he wants nothing more than to just keep kissing you.

"Ugh that's enough dude, gross" Mike groans and Eddie reluctantly pulls away from you, feels pleased with himself that your lips are all kiss bitten and your eyes mirroring his in complete lust and adoration.

"About time" Gareth sags in relief, now the two of you could stop tiptoeing around your feelings for one another. Eddie sends him a death glare but completely softens when you take his hand and lean across to whisper in his ear.

"We're totally doing more of that later" your gaze is full of need and a tiny bit of mischief and it may be the first time that Eddie has ever wanted to speed run through a campaign. He couldn't wait for later but for now he had to get into DM mode.

If only you would stop looking at him like that, all impish and beautiful then he might be able to concentrate.

While he's making moon eyes at you for a few seconds Dustin, Erica, Lucas and Mike huddle together and discreetly high five.

"Mission accomplished" Dustin beams until Erica frowns and lets out an exasperated huff. "Yeah sure, like you bunch of nerds could have done this without me" Lucas is about to argue but Erica stops him.

"Nope, don't say a word dumbass. I hung the mistletoe because I'm not afraid of Munson like you three are, so this is down to me" She takes a mini bow and leaves the three boys gawking at her as Eddie finally starts the session.

🎄❄️⛄

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Are they on the Naughty List? Or have they’ve been good all year?Well that’s for you to decide.

Start:November 12

End: December 31

Green > SFW prompts

Red > NSFW prompts

«timeline»

⇀bold is the fandoms i really want. ↼

◇ day 1-7: {Nov 12-18}

Day 1: - Ice Skating- Rocky Rickaby

Day 2: “I can’t believe you did that to Santa…”-Stanley Pines

Day3: - “I made you some hot cocoa.”-Stanford Pines

Day 4:we were going to a Christmas party but fuck if you don’t just look sinful in red, and you know what? Fuck that Christmas party- Logan Howlett

Day5:- Dancing In The Snow-Rocky Rickaby

Day 6:-Sucking on a Candy Cane- Viktor Vasko

Day 7: - “are you really playing christmas music already? it’s barely November” -Mordecai Heller

◇ day 8-14: {Nov 19-25}

Day 8:-Watching the snowfall from inside a cosy house- Dorian Zibowski

Day 9:-“Carmel apples, leaves falling down. What could better then November?” “I don’t know maybe fucking June?”- Stanley Pines

Day 10: -we got a little too carried away with the Christmas lights, and now suddenly my hands are bound with the lights and oh my god are we about to have sex?-Bucky Barnes

Day 11:- it’s holiday dinner with your family, and oh Jesus where are your hands going?- Stanley Pines

Day 12:-“Do you need help hanging up the Christmas lights?”- Joel Miller

Day 13: -“HAPPY NOVEMBER!” “No one wishes anyone a happy November.” “Well I just did.”-Spencer Reid

Day 14:-one lending the other their scarf to keep them warm.- Mordecai Heller

◇ day 15-21 {Nov 26-Dec 2}

Day 15:-Handing their S/O a positive pregnancy test with a sprig of holly and a note reading ‘Merry Christmas’- Dean Winchester

Day 16:Baking holiday cookies.- Overlord!Husk

Day 17:-“The turkey’s not the only thing getting stuffed today.” - Sylus

Day 18:Jingle Bells: Our muses take a sleigh ride-Spencer Reid

Day 19:-Build A snowman.- Stanford Pines

Day 20:-Silent Night: Not a creature was stirring… It’s Christmas Eve and everyone is in bed, except for our muses.- Luis Serra

Day 21:-The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting): Our muses have snuggled for some fireside Christmas dreaming.- Dad!Fiddleford

◇ day 22-28 {Dec 3 -9}

Day 22:-Christmas Decorations- Dad!Fiddledord

Day 23:-“Breasts/thighs are my favorite part to nibble on.” Rocky Rickaby

Day 24:“You know, tying the legs together keeps everything moist.”- Overlord!Husk (pause)

Day 25:-Christmas Morning- Dad!Stanford Pines

Day 26:-Hanging Stockings.- Dad!Husk

Day 27:-Reader wearing nothing but a Santa hat-Vander

Day 28:-“Dancing in the snow- Reuben "Ruby" Pepper

◇ Day 29- 35 {Dec 10-16}

Day 29:“You look even more beautiful covered in snow.”- Gregory House

Day 30:-ice skating-Reuben "Ruby" Pepper

Day 31:-sneaking around after the other has fallen asleep to put up their gift.- Aaron Hotchner

Day 32:-“Go on, open it.” - Bucky Barnes

Day 33: Day 33:-“Did you decorate the tree without me? I can’t believe this!”- Rocky Rickaby(pause)

Day 34: -Kiss Me Under The Mistletoe. - Poly Fiddauthor x reader

Day 35:“Excuse me—where is my Christmas kiss?” - Remy 'Gambit'

◇ day 36-42 {Dec 17-23}

Day 36:-"Why are there so many mistletoe?"-Connor { DBH }

Day 37:-“It’s time for hand turkey’s everyone.” “FUCK YES YES!”- Dad!Stan Pines

Day 38:-“Alright, mister. I know you’re the one who keeps hanging up mistletoe everywhere." --Sedgewick Sable{pause}

Day 39:-“Thanksgiving is for giving thanks” “And for body slamming each other during the family football match!” - Nico Savoy {pause}

Day 40:-The scent of real Christmas trees-Joel Miller

Day 41: -“I’m going to have you stuffed better than the turkey by the end of the night.” Adam {Hazbin Hotel} {pause}

Day 42:-“I’m not much of a cook, but I’m good at glazing.” -Stanford Pines

◇ day 43-50 {Dec 24-31}

Day 43:-Cabin Sex { Christmas Eve sex }- Stanford Pines

Day 44: -“Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!" Stanley Pines.

Day 45: -“Did you spike the eggnog again?”- Sedgewick Sable

Day 46: “Will you make a gingerbread house with me?”- Dad!Husk

Day 47: - “It’s Snowing”- Rip Wheeler

Day 48: -Peppermint-flavoured everything-Penelope Garcia

Day 49:-wearing ugly Christmas sweaters-Gregory House

Day 50:spending christmas morning together.-James Sunderland

[atalana]

so i finally got the chance to read the book of bill! and man those journal 3 pages, i could write a million essays on those, but the principle one that i can't get out my head is the new insight on ford's whole fucked up paradigm of what love is

like, neither of the stan twins really know how to experience unconditional love, because they never really had it. their dad was constantly comparing the two of them and really just stamping down stanley's self worth at any given moment. and even for ford who was praised, he's not an idiot, he saw how stan got treated all the time, and their dad was very explicit as to why. ford's praise and attention hinged on him being the family genius who could make them all a lot of money, and he knew very well if he failed to live up to that, he would also lose his father's love

and you see this in stan in his desperate need for everyone to like him, but also how he doesn't really believe anyone ever truly could love him, so whenever he gets the chance with anyone he clings onto that relationship as tight as he can, terrified it's going to disappear at any second

ford, meanwhile. the more direct threat to him was the bullies and the people that made him feel lesser for being abnormal. and no kid likes feeling like that, we know it's a spike buried deep in his psyche, which gave him a reason for the dichotomy he ends up forming.

when he was a kid, people tended to fall into two categories - those who were really impressed with him and his potential, and those who saw him as a freak and wanted to drag him down for it. the love he got and the hate he got are directly related to both.

and as a result ford is constantly looking for people who will give him intellectual gratification (what he thinks love is), and he categorises everyone else as "unimportant obstacles in my way" (because that's how he thinks about those bullies, so their words won't hurt anymore)

stanley was the first category, until he sharply became the second

and splitting the world into those two categories makes him an absolutely horrible person! like, one hand yeah, you do have sympathy for ford bc that is straight up torture bill put him through and no one should have to experience it (and i do wanna make clear this is not a ford hate post, he does have good qualities im just interested in the bad rn)

on the other hand though, god, i'm always struck by just how hateful he is towards so many unimportant things (just one of many examples, christmas songs are fake and stupid bc rudolph didn't burn santa's workshop to the ground as revenge for ostracizing him like jesus christ dude)

or the bit where he sees one of stan's shitty product ads and considers calling him and pretending to be a cop just to scare him, because in ford's mind that's a punishment he deserves for daring to look so stupid while sharing ford's face

and it just drills in how much ford is not willing to see stan's side of this in any way, because what do you think would happen if you went through with that plan? don't you know stan's already scared enough? you saw him get kicked out, you saw the ultimatum that came with it, and hell thanks to the book of bill we know you were also scared to go home until you had something to show for it. he's trying his best, and you understood that once. but then stan throws your journal back in your face and you yell that you're giving him the chance to do the first worthwhile thing in his life.

everything he did to try and make something of himself, to try and prove himself worthy of literally any love at all, you didn't care about that. now he's in a position to help you, so of course he should just drop everything and obey your orders to the letter without question. that's the only way to redeem himself for getting in your way, why won't he take it?

by the time bill shows up ford felt fully justified in going "this isn't about me, and therefore it's stupid and unimportant and should be destroyed". and i know exactly why, it's because again you think intellectual gratification and love are the same thing and you're running low on both right now so you're trying to make up the difference by affirming how right you are in your goddamn diary, but right does not make you good or kind or wise

and that makes it kind of a self fulfilling prophecy, because loving you is hard, and the one person genuinely willing to do so unconditionally you're keeping at a very aggressive arms length. but you fall for bill so easily, because he understands how important you are, which must be love, and all of these other people worried about you just aren't smart enough to get it

and not even realising bill's lies could cure him of that one. hell, 30 years spent dimension hopping didn't cure it. when ford gets back he is still just as self righteous, and still willing to categorise dipper as "will give me intellectual gratification" and the rest of them as intrinsically less valuable

which is why dipper can't take the deal ford offered him. if he had, he would have turned out exactly like ford, stuck in his own echo chamber unable to tell the difference between love and praise

mabel says at one point in the comics that the reason the two grunkles are bad at looking after kids is because they still are kids, and that's a really accurate insight. that old wound cut so deep neither of them had the chance to actually move past their childhood, and discover what it was they were missing

stan never stopped wanting his brother back, but ford didn't realise that was what he needed too, until he saw mabel and dipper working as a team against bill. he's acknowledged his mistake in trusting bill before now, but "we used to be like that" is his first time acknowledging that his whole approach to people is wrong.

you've always had one source of unconditional love. you didn't need to be better than him to be worthy of it. and now you've got an entire new family, hopefully you'll realise that can come from multiple fronts

(and it's okay stan shall have his revenge for how you treated him by commiting just. so much tax fraud in your name)

[incorrectcreepypastafam]

Creepypasta As DanAndPhilGAMES Quotes After The Revival

Toby: I’ve graduated into fuckland

Jeff: just stop speaking

Toby: okay

Toby: soft launching the gay

Jeff: I’m gonna hard launch you out of that window

Liu: know what I mean?

Jeff: no

Jeff: is it hard for you to speak sometimes

Lyra: did that work

Jeff: not really

Lyra: I tried really hard

Jeff: what is the most emo clothing we got here

Jeff: my brother, WELCOME TO THE BLACK PARADE

Lyra: look at this magnificent bitch

Brian: communities that shit together stay together

Jeff: I will try to be normal

Tim: where’s your mind at

Toby: where’s your mom at

Toby: and now I’m wet in this suit

Lyra: uhhhhhhhhhh

Lyra: you pissed?

Toby: I’m gonna stop breathing

Jeff: thank you, Toby, that’s a good volunteer

Ben: maybe they got struck by lightning

Jeff: where was the lightning bitch

Ben: I’m gonna haunt every generation of your family

Tim: should we take it in turns with the swinging?

Tim: that’s what someone’s mom said last night

Game: it’s been a long day

Liu, to Jeff: me sitting next to you

Brian: I’m grabbing my boobs

Sally: is it an alien or Squidward? What are we being chased by?

Sally: it’s hard for me to tell

Liu: THATS THE SHADOW OF THE ROSE ITS NOT A DEMON

Jeff: if that baby comes out I’m gonna kill you

Toby: I’d like that

Toby: you know what they say about big feet

Lyra: what

Toby: big socks

Lyra: okay

Jeff: half an hour montage of Tobias Rogers attempting to learn how to put on a cape

Toby: can you help

Jeff: no

Toby: and then I just saw some lightning happening in the microwave and thought “what a beautiful night for a thunderstorm”

Sally: I don’t do drugs I don’t know what grams are

Lyra: im hot I don’t know how to count

Jeff: maybe I am heaven

Sally, pointing at plastic spiders: that’s Ben. That’s Ben 2. That’s Ben 3

Liu: I’m gonna give us a solid 7/10 on that one

Jeff: just a seven? Are you fucking kidding me

Liu: I was being humble

Jeff: fuck humble

Jeff: do you ever reflect on our lives and just think… stop

Liu: yeah all the time

Tim: I wanna fuck the Eiffel tower

Jeff: dead people in France

Liu: STOP IT

Ben: im gonna hit you with a meteor

Sally: im gonna microwave you

Toby: can I just show you something

Jeff: is it a dead person in France

Jeff: im in my cougar era. Watch out twinks, Jeff is on the prowl

Lyra: I wanna do things to this house

Liu, through his teeth: what do you want to do to the house, Lyra?

Liu, through his teeth: respect the house, Lyra

Jeff: what happens when you tap the emo dragon

Liu: you want me to tap it?

Jeff: yeah

Liu: *taps dragon*

*g note plays*

Jeff: that’s damn right

Ben: I do not think playing this game is how Christ would want us to start his season but here we are

Jeff: but Santa would and so would his brother, Satan

Ben: okay

Jeff: I don’t own any sex toys that go chomp chomp

Jeff: but nice to know that you do

Jeff: I’d say Jesus Christ but I know he’s not listening right now

Toby: five strokes and you’re done

Jeff: that’s what they call me. Five strokes Jeffy

Jeff: who’s they? What am I saying?

*trying to figure out what lmb stands for*

Jeff: lobotomy maybe bestie

Toby: look mate… BITCH

Jeff: it’s making you more intelligent that’s why you’re winning at golf

Jeff: we finally found a way to fix you

Sally: you’re banned from friendship

Ben: this is a safe space

*literally five minutes later*

Ben: point at the guy who doesn’t know how to crouch

Lyra: I would like you all to tell me how I can be better at this game

Ben: um don’t walk down hole

Lyra: okay

*playing Lethal Company*

Jeff: Ben’s not here let’s have a party

Ben: please get back on the ship or I’ll be leaving without you

Jeff: we thought we found a wheel. It was a mine

Jeff: they’re both fucking dead as fuck

Ben, laughing: good job

Jeff: Tim, you’re a top bunk kinda guy right?

Tim: that’s not what Tumblr says

Jeff: is that brown Grimace

Jeff: what the fuck am I looking at

Toby: I’ve never watched an episode of My Little Pony

Jeff: no because you’re normal

Game: who invented the lightning rod

Sally: me

Lyra: what’s the opposite of tears

Jeff:

Jeff: piss

Jeff: and the moral of the story is

Jeff: fuck books

Jeff: get paper cuts

Liu: no

Jeff: what

Liu: stop

Jeff: oh I missed this completely

Liu: is there some kind of grimy wall from your childhood we need to talk about

Jeff: it’s you bitch

Lyra: I put up flyers for car washing. I washed someone’s car and then they said I scratched it with my rings. Why was an eight year old wearing rings?

Jeff: did they try to scam an eight year old?

Lyra: YES

Jeff: you should’ve killed them

Brian: I would give birth to a child on this

Tim: yes

Brian: I would eat the child straight off it

Tim: no

Liu: let’s just grab an apple and try our best

Toby: hey Siri what’s 25+6

Ben:

Ben: girl-

Ben: 31

Toby: 29

*playing Poppy Playtime*

Jeff, to a toy oven: come with me, Owen

Liu: Owen needs to stay where he is

Jeff: I will love you, Owen

Jeff: I don’t like to contribute I just like to judge

Liu: but, Jeff, what is a VPN?

Jeff: virtual private gnome

Liu: gnome begins with a g

Jeff: :0

Sally: everything is just too heavy

Sally: even milk like

Sally: why are you heavy

Lyra: honestly liquid needs to calm down

Lyra: you know what we say about

superstitions

Liu: that they’re not real?

Lyra:

Lyra: do you wanna fight

Toby: just like Sonic The Hedgehog we’re going speed dating

Toby: … as he was known to do

Ben: what

Toby: what fictional characters could we see here

Toby: what are you expecting

Lyra: I’m expecting an anime boy

Lyra: I don’t know who else

Toby: Bill Clinton

Lyra: okay

Toby: he’s real

Jeff: I don’t care if Mozart did this when he was five he’s a nerd

Liu, about baboons: they only live up to 30 years in the wild and 45 years in captivity

Jeff: oh my god you’ve only got a couple years left

Ben: life comes at you fast and so does Trombone Champ

Tim: unleash the babussy

Jeff: did you just g note me with a fucking trombone

Jeff: last time I lost my voice. I’m loud as fuck today you’re gonna wish I had

Lyra: they ate

Liu: okay

Jeff: I was 26 doing that on YouTube

Jeff: fuck yeah good for me

Jeff: did you know that we are celebrities

Toby: celebritenis

Jeff: we are vips

Toby: vipenis

Jeff: we are influenc-

Jeff: *vomit noise*

Jeff: what did you just say

Toby: vipenis

Jeff:

Sally: when I did 23andme it said I was 8% lobster and I think we all know why

Brian: I think I looked snatched

Toby: *dies laughing*

Brian: did I use that right

Jeff: look it’s hard being this pretty

Lyra, reading the question: if they were having a party, what would they serve

Jeff: cunt

Jeff: sorry

Toby: I mean anything could’ve slipped onto something

Jeff: what

Toby: I don’t know what I mean

Jeff: oh god

[blushblushbear]

Hellooooo! 👋

Thank you again for taking my previous request with the immortal x reincarnation Headcannons 🥺 I forever love that trope to death

I enjoy seeing others Headcannons for the guys💖 thus why i’m requesting another Headcannons for once again, the Kitsunes

Since it’s December 👀 do you think you could come up with some Headcannons for what the three Kits would do on Christmas?

Like Aki trying to trap Santa for example🥺

SO! 👏

A quick history lesson to preface this! (Which I had to google, these fox idiots and fan fics involving them have me googling so much lately)

While Christmas first appeared in Japan in the 16th century, it wasn't widely celebrated until the Meiji Era (1868-1912)

If we take their release date as the canon date for things (so they got foxified 200 years prior to their release) that means they got turned into foxes around 1823, aka the Edo Period

So yeah, they have been foxes for the whole of christmas being a major/regular thing in japan and also being kitsune probably did not even celebrate it cause it might be competition???? (would they bro out with Jesus or try and fist fight him in a parking lot?????? surely not on the dude's birthday! No one is that cruel)

but yeah, it's safe to say their christmas this year (or maybe in 2023 cause they WERE released on December 5th, how quickly did you unfox them??) with you is like---- their first christmas EVER

ALSO SPEAKING OF CHRISTMAS IN JAPAN

it's considered a couples' holiday-- or at least one you spend with friends at a party or something

sooooo with that being said

Aki:

ya know originally when you said he'd try to catch santa I was like 'nah' but then I thought about it and like

actually you're so right??

he totally would though

at least he would try

is he gonna ransom santa??

beat him up???

strike some kind of deal for presents???

JUST VIBE WITH THE DUDE????

even he's not sure, he's gonna see how it goes

I think he's very santa focused until he hears that christmas is a couple's holiday

then his gears shift so so fast

and don't even get me STARTED about after he heard about mistletoe

his santa trap plans become you trap plans so quickly

and all of them end with you kissing him

also he heard there's cake and fried chicken and frankly

he thought all this was really silly when he first heard it but it's low key one of his favorite holidays now

Haru:

Hoe hoe hoe

okay but no LISTEN

there's this saying that the most sex in japan is happening on christmas or something to that tune

so like

Haru has known about this holiday for a while

he's actually the only one who knew about it before hand

though his views on it are very like-----

in a horny japanese way

he only knows it as the go to a party and getting laid holiday

which fair

but yeah

his views on things sort of change a little now that he's got his powers back and is not stuck in fox mode for the first time during this holiday

well-- his views haven't changed but the mood has for him

he's still wanting to take you out and wine and dine you and also end up back at one of your places

but 1) it's more romantic to him now than just a fun lay like it would've been before you

and 2) frankly this is just his usual m.o. just more christmas flavored

it's like a pre-valentine's day as far as he's concerned

aka another excuse to take you out, show you off, give you a good time then end the night with some alone time back at your place <3

Fuyu:

The oldest and most shinto-y of the bunch, he's the most taken aback by this holiday

he doesn't hate it or anything but he does see it as humans doing kooky human things

but you've opened him up to a lot of new experiences recently so ya know what??

alright!

let's go out and have a modern little christmas date

it's different but it could be fun!

and it is fun actually

he tries a lot of new things and he actually has a good amount of fun with you

it's very much a cute little sweet christmas date

he tries fried chicken for the first time

well, okay--- yakitori exists but my understanding is that that's more grilled, and tempura exists but that's sort of different to like------- KFC style deep fried shit

he's def had stuff like it but not like---- KFC ya know????

he likes it fine

lil greasy for his taste but it's nice for a treat

but yeah it's mostly just a pleasant little date, you and him just kinda enjoying the sights and sounds together in this new world that he refused to partake in for so long

and it def ends with a christmas cake

and maybe you showing him mistletoe

aaaand maybe telling him about the spike in spicy times if you feel so inclined ;3

[picky-and-corrupted-picky]

INCORRECT QUOTES AGAIN!!!!

'cause I'm still sick-

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

Picky: The ‘how the fucks’ and 'why are you so dumbs’ don’t matter. All that matters is that I have a new gun.

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

Bobby: At this point, I'm holding myself together with glitter glue.

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

Crafty: I scare people a lot because I walk very softly and they don't hear me enter rooms. So when they turn around, I'm just kind of there and their fear fuels me.

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

Bubba: I dunno if I'm ready to process the ramifications of this bullshit.

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

Crafty: Unfortunately, due to several experiences in my youth, I cannot just 'walk up and join a circle of people talking', but it does sound lovely, thank you.

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

Hoppy: Underestimate me. That'll be fun.

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

Bubba: Ok, first of all, what the fuck?

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

Kickin, seeing a banana on the car seat: What the FUCK?? Kickin, buckling the banana up: Fucking buckle UP, it’s the LAW!

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

Kickin: I have no respect for Santa. Don’t sneak in through the chimney and undermine my authority by bringing my family presents. Walk in through the front door and fight me like a man.

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

Hoppy: Kids don't even call you a doodoo head anymore. They just call you a bitch.

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

Kickin: So apparently the "bad vibes" I've been feeling are actually "Severe psychological distress."

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

Picky: Now, the recipe calls for 2 shots of vodka. Picky: *upends the bottle*

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

Bubba: If I can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think my body will shut down.

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

Hoppy: If karma doesn't hit you, I fucking will.

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

Kickin: Guess who got shit done today? Kickin: Not me, but congrats to somebody out there.

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

Bubba: Time for plan G. Bobby: Don’t you mean plan B? Bubba: No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties. Crafty: What about plan D? Bubba: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago. Hoppy: What about plan E? Bubba: I’m hoping not to use it. Kickin dies in plan E. Picky: I like plan E.

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

Bubba: I CAN'T DO IT! Bobby, laughing: I CAN'T EITHER! Bubba: I CANT FUCKING DO IT ANYMORE Picky: WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW, OR YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE WE CERTAINLY CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND WE KNOW YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT US. Bubba: Bubba: I appreciate it, Bubba: BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH- Hoppy: Bubba- Bubba: YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE! Crafty: Bubba we gotta- Bubba: YOU GOTTA DRAW A FUCKING LINE IN THE SAND. YOU GOTTA MAKE A STATEMENT. Bubba: YOU GOTTA LOOK INSIDE YOURSELF AND SAY 'What am I willing to put up with today?' Bubba, motioning to Kickin: NOT FUCKING THIS

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

Bubba: If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous. Hoppy: What if it bites me and it dies!? Crafty: Then you’re poisonous. Jesus Christ, Hoppy, learn to listen. Kickin: What if it bites itself and I die? Picky: That’s voodoo. Hoppy: What if it bites me and someone else dies? Bobby: That’s correlation, not causation. Crafty: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die? Kickin: That’s kinky. Bubba: Oh my God.

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

Twisted!Bubba and Violent!Kickin by @smiling-psychopaths

Lovesick!Bobby by @protective-mama-bear

Corrupted!Picky by me :D

Emotionless!Crafty by @emotionless-craftycorn

Impulsive!Hoppy by @jumptothemoon

[moodymelanist]

I Guess It's Half Timing (And The Other Half's Luck) — Epilogue

I can’t believe this story has finally come to a close!! Thank you so much to everyone who followed along with me on this fic, I had so much fun writing it and trying my hand at slow burn for the first time 🩷

Also, a very big and special shoutout to the GC for motivating me every month to write this and helping me come up with fun little ideas to sneak in. Y’all kept me going and I couldn’t have done it without you!!

I hope this ties up everything nicely!!! until next time and happy 2024 everyone :’)

✷✷✷✷✷

Cassian

Cassian had been enjoying his dream when he was abruptly yanked into consciousness by the sound of his daughter screaming her head off in excitement.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Sera yelled at the top of her lungs, her little feet just narrowly missing crushing Cassian’s hand as she jumped up and down on the bed. How she’d managed to even climb up without shaking him awake was beyond him, but she’d certainly accomplished her goal now. “Wake up! It’s Christmas!”

“Jesus Christ, what time is it,” Nesta muttered under her breath. She looked adorably grumpy as always, and Cassian fought the urge to tug where her hair pulled into two loose braids for sleep like he was the little kid here. “Okay, okay, Sera. We’re up, I promise, just give us a second.”

“Too goddamn early,” Cassian mumbled right back. He was usually an early riser, but he’d been pulling a lot of long nights leading up to the actual holiday. Sue him for wanting to sleep in a little later than six thirty in the morning. “Sera, mijita, calm down a little, okay?”

Sera had just turned four last month, so they were much more concerned about making an effort for the holidays these days now that the chances of her remembering it were so much higher. She’d been talking about Santa and wondering aloud about her presents for weeks now, and if Cassian hadn’t been so worried about making the day good for her, he would’ve been able to focus on just how adorable she was.

Keep reading on AO3 here!

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard | @thatsowlmazing | @avidromancereader | @a-little-disguised | @kale-theteaqueen

[mattnben-bennmatt]

Matt Damon presents Ben Affleck with the Santa Barbara International Film Festival Modern Master Award (February 2013)

-

MATT: [Emphatically praises Ben's skills as a director and a filmmaker, telling how Ben was a great problem-solver since they were teenagers discussing movies, and how this made him both a great writing partner and also take on problem-riddled scripts in the early days of his career, as Ben could always see their potential. But it's only when he was able to implement his vision as a director that his mastery came to light, and that Ben, as the director, is the one responsible for how great his movies came out, that it didn't happen by chance. He then emotionally calls Ben to the stage to give him the (seriously heavy) award.]

BEN: [Proceeds to spend the next 3 minutes praising Matt, repeatedly calling him "brilliant" and a "genius". Explains that he knows Matt's a genius because he's known him for more than 30 years and has seen him "do about everything you can do. Including [...] in the shower", has seen "the entire range of his personality, his emotions, his life experience". So when he doesn't recognize Matt in a role he's playing, Ben's "humbled" and "completely blown away". That Matt has worked with all those great directors because they have seen greatness in Matt. And so has everyone in the world.] And so have I.

MATT: I'm not getting the award! Jesus!

BEN: I guess I'm just riffing! I've got nothing written, so. [...] I am lucky because I saw [Matt's greatness] before all of you! So thank you very much to Matt. Now onto my 10-page written remarks. [Laughter]

-

[Full transcript under the cut.]

-

LEONARD MALTIN: He just flew in tonight to do this, please welcome, ladies and gentlemen, Academy Award winner, Matt Damon.

MATT: Thank you. Thank you. This thing is seriously heavy. This is a serious award, man. So, a Modern Master. Okay.

I'll tell you what. When we were kids— we started really looking at movies when Ben was fourteen and I was sixteen. And we'd go to Somerville, as he said, to the Assembly Square Mall, they had the big pictures there; or Fresh Pond; or in Harvard Square. And it was usually the same little group of guys: it was Ben, and me, and Casey. And our other friend who Ben mentioned tonight, Aaron Stockard, who wrote Gone Baby Gone and The Town with Ben. And then a few other friends of ours. But predominantly, we all became screenwriters, either on purpose or by accident.

And we'd come out of these movies— and we saw all kinds of movies and we just loved movies. We worked in a movie theater, actually, one summer; tearing tickets and serving popcorn for— the only movie they played was Dead Poets Society, which is a movie we both auditioned for and didn't get. I don't know, some form of bizarre self-torture that we got jobs at the movie theater that was playing Dead Poets Society, and had to watch the exiting crowds weeping every night.

Anyway, we loved movies. But we'd come out of these movies and we'd say, "What'd you guys think?" and we'd have a little note session in the parking lot. And inevitably, "That was stupid, I didn't like it." We'd have these kinds of real adolescent notes. And then we'd get to Ben—who would have been quiet to that point, uncharacteristically—"And what do you think?" And he'd go, "Well, it didn't quite work for me. But had they done this, this, and this at the beginning, what you could have done in the middle was you could have a scene where you did this, and then they could have a great scene at the end, where you could have done that." We'd go, "Holy shit! That's a really good movie!"

This is a skill that he had, and I don't know if he was born with it, but he had it when he was fourteen when we started going to movies together. It was just that thing, where he could lift up the hood and look at the engine, and get in there and take it apart, and put it back together, and the whole thing would run smoother. It's what made him such a great writing partner. He could problem-solve. And so much of filmmaking is just that: it's just problem-solving and decision-making in real time.

And that's the same skill that got him in a lot of, well, mediocre movies for a patch there. Ten, or fifteen years ago I'd read a script of a movie he was doing—he'd signed on to do the movie—and I'd read it and I'd go, "Why are you doing this? Horrible problem in Act 1, and they don't solve it in Act 2, and it gets worse in Act 3." And he goes, "I know, but if you do this, this, this, and this, this movie is gonna be fantastic!" And I'd go, "You're absolutely right!" The problem was he wasn't directing the movies. And in our business, the director is god. And the director is also your boss. And like a good soldier, he would he would plead his case, but eventually he'd do what the director wanted. And the problems that were evident to him at the very beginning, were evident to him at the premiere.

So here he is now. He's made three fantastic movies, one better than the next. And one thing I've learned is that you cannot make a great movie by accident. Anybody who makes a great movie is a great director. Period. [Applause] That's true. Because the director is responsible for literally everything. Everything. The framing of the shot; where the camera is; what the actors are wearing; the color of the walls; the color of the drapes; the color of the scarf around the leading lady's neck; the way she says that line. Everything. It's all manipulated. Every single decision. These directors are making hundreds and hundreds of decisions a day, over hundreds of days. You just can't do it by accident. It's literally impossible.

And Ben's made these three great movies. And this last one Argo is legitimately a great movie: that's already nominated for Best Picture, and it's already won the Golden Globe for Best Picture, and for Ben for Best Director, and no one's gonna be surprised if it wins the Oscar for Best Picture. [Applause]

And so here I am, with my— my buddy is, without question, a great director! And so when I was contemplating this whole Master thing, I guess the only thing I could say is, please welcome... Please welcome somebody who is undeniably two things: my very old friend and a very young master. [Applause]

It's heavy, man!

BEN: Thank you very much. This is indeed a lot. I want to say thank you to Matt Damon, who when he gets this award, I hope will invite me here to give a speech about him. Mine will be a bit more of a roast because so many of the brilliant characteristics of Matt are so blatantly self-evident.

Matt Damon actually is brilliant. We traffic in these adjectives and in hyperbole in this business an awful lot, so it's rare to actually know a genius. And I know that Matt's a genius because I know him, and I've known him for more than 30 years. I've seen him do about everything you can do. Including—we played sports together��I even saw him in the shower. Which is why that was a nice speech. Because you don't roast somebody who's seen you in the shower.

But what I've seen about Matt is who he really is. So I know and I've seen what I consider to be the entire range of his personality, his emotions, his life experience, more or less. So when I go see a movie that Matt's in, and I see a fully realized, deeply nuanced, completely complicated person—who not only have I never met, I've never even seen! Not for a second!—I am humbled and I am completely blown away.

Matt talked about directors. There are a lot of things that I would have cause to envy Matt over. The one thing I probably envy him the most is: Francis Ford Coppola, Martin Scorsese, Steven Spielberg, the Coen brothers. [To Matt] Help me out! A whole shitload of directors who are geniuses. Clint Eastwood, twice. Cameron Crowe. I mean, on and on. Matt has worked with basically all the great directors who can still get up out of a chair. And the reason why is because they're great directors and they can recognize greatness. And they've seen it in Matt; and so have all of you; and so has America; and so have international film-going audiences; and so have I.

MATT: I'm not getting the award! Jesus!

BEN: I guess I'm just riffing! I've got nothing written, so. [To Matt, unitelligeable.]

I am lucky because I saw it [Matt's greatness] before all of you! So thank you very much to Matt. Now onto my 10-page written remarks. [Laughter]

[theitgirlnetwork]

Better

Chapter 3. Friends Don't Fuck Friends

note: Hi everyone, thank you for the love so far on this story, I'm having fun writing it. I have a whole plan for this story, and building a universe that it's part of. Please feel free to send me any questions or leave comments below. Also warning: language, mentions of prostitution, i think that's it. <3

“Hey, Lip, pass me that wrench…Lip. Lip!”

“Aye, shithead, wrench, you don’t hear him talkin’ to you?”

Lip unglues his eyes from the ass in spandex red shorts with translucent tights being waved in his face…across the yard. 

“Jesus, V should start chargin’ folks to skulk around the yard, eye fuckin’ princess over there.” Mickey scoffs from his seat on the steps, knocking the ash off of his cigarette. 

Lip looks along the street to see the mailman, a couple of kids on the way to school, and some random drunks paused sporadically, all looking at the same view Lip had been admiring. “Hey, fuck off, fuckin’ pervs. Charlotte!”

Charlotte jolts straight from where she was stringing lights along the banister, whipping around to see the men lined up on the other side of the fence. “Oh, uh, can I help you guys?”

“Sure you can.” one of them leers, leaning on the fence. Lip jumps over, shoving the guy away, curling his lip up at them causing them to back away, scattering fully when Ian and Mickey both stand threateningly on the Gallagher side of the fence. 

“Christmas uniform?” Lip asks, looking at the rest of her outfit, down to the shirt with a bow that said ‘Unwrap Me’. “Let me do that for you.” he crouches down, starting to wrap the rest of the lights. 

“Thanks, I’m trying to get these done before my shift.” she grins, wiping her hands on her shorts. “When I get home I’m gonna try to paint the Santa that Kev brought home black, I think that it’ll be good for Liam to see. And me to be honest.” 

Lip’s eyebrows rise as he stands, leaning closer to the girl. “What, you don’t like white men sneaking in at night giving you presents?” 

“Not,” Charlotte takes a step back. “when they’re married. Or have girlfriends.” 

Mickey whistles from behind him while Ian tries to smother a chuckle.

The blond stands to his full height, cocking his head back. “Thought we agreed to be friends. Change your mind?”

“Not about Mandy. Get permission from her, and we’ll be the best of buddies, kay?” She pats his cheek lightly, and grabs her purse from the stoop. “Ian, Mickey, will you walk me to work?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Free beer?” Mickey asks, swinging his legs over the fence, tossing an arm over Charlotte’s shoulders. 

“Two.” 

“Three! You little hooker.”

Lip sighs as he watches the three of them walk up the street, cursing himself for wanting anything to do with that sexy little suffragette.

“Knew you’d come back.” Mandy smiles, leaning in her doorway. “What? Little skank doesn’t give head? She looks like the type. Too prissy.”

Lip finds himself cringing at the name she used for the sweet girl who lived next door to him. “I didn’t fuck her.”

“Tried to.” she rolls her eyes, turning back into the house, leaving the door open so he can follow. “I don’t get it, she just got here. You go from fixating on Karen to her. I’m the one who takes care of you.”

Lip flicks his cigarette on the ground, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. Well. Momentary lapse in judgment. Look, I’m sorry alright. But she didn’t know. And believe me, she doesn’t want any fucking thing to do with me now, okay? She wants to be friends…with us. You, mainly.”

“Good.” Mandy hums, grabbing two beers from the fridge, handing one to Lip. “But I don’t wanna be friends with that bitch-”

“She’s gonna be around.” He sighs, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “She’s gonna be around, okay. She’s V’s cousin. V and Kev are family, they live next door. She lives next door. But there’s nothing going on, alright?” He rubs Mandy’s arm. “Seriously. Nothing.”

Mandy stares up into his eyes, biting her lip as she thinks before nodding, kissing his cheek. “Okay. I believe you.”

“So you’ll try, right? To be cool with Charlotte.”

“Fine.” she breathes. “I’ll be cool with the bitch.”

Lip stares back at her, parting his lips to complain again.

“Girls call their friends bitches, calm down.” she holds her hand out to him. “C’mon, I’ll give you a blowie, you look pent up.”

Charlotte hums a christmas song to herself as she scrubs the bar top, pausing to fix the santa hat on her head. 

Ian and Mickey had left after a couple of beers and the bar was relatively slow because it was the day shift. It was a surprise since it was a Friday, but she was grateful for the break. She was going out with V and Fiona tomorrow and she was excited. Excited to hang out with her cousin and Fiona. Excited to meet actual men outside of Lip Gallagher. 

“Hey, Lottie! Table 13 is requestin’ ya. Get to it.”

“Mmkay. Coming.” she chirps. She turns the corner around the wooden post and pauses when she sees who’s sitting there. “Mandy, hi.”

“Hey. What time do you get off?” The girl asks, taking a bite of the fry in her hand. 

“Um, around 8, why?” 

Mandy pops the rest of the fry into her mouth and raises her brow. “We’re going out. We’re friends now. Per my boyfriend’s request.” 

The emphasis is not lost on Charlotte, but this was what she wanted. Ian had told her Mandy can be pretty great when she’s not feeling possessive. She just needs to show the girl she has no interest in trying to take her boyfriend. So she offers the girl a wide smile, and bounces on her feet. “Great! Okay, so, after my shift, I’ll go home, get cute and meet up with you. This is gonna be fun.” she looks at the empty glass in front of Mandy, “how about a milkshake on me?”

“Beer.”

“Oh-kay.”

“Who’re you going with again?” 

“V!” Charlotte whines, her heels clacking on the floor as she rushes across the kitchen. 

Her cousin shakes her head, plopping down on the couch. “I agree with Kev, this is stupid, that girl hates you.”

“Not anymore. I don’t like Phillip like that, and she knows it, that’s why she asked me out. It’s gonna be fun.” she hums. “If I don’t like it I’ll just come home.”

“Look, she better bring you home as you went or I’ll show that little white bit-” the doorbell rings and Charlotte shushes her cousin, running out to meet with Mandy. 

“Hey, girl, you look nice.” she smiles.

Mandy is wearing a short sequin dress with combat boots. She eyes Charlotte in her black tube top dress with slits up the sides, and crosses her arms. “Thanks. Let’s go.” 

“Okay.” 

The two girls head up the sidewalk, Ian, Mickey, and Lip are sitting on the stoop smoking. Mandy’s eyes trail over to Lip, waiting. For acknowledgement. A ‘you look nice’ or ‘thanks for doing this’. But all she got was to follow his eyes over to the girl next to her. Watching them stay there. It felt like torture. It really hurt. Mandy was tired of being the one who gets hurt.

A couple hours after the girls left, Lip is feeling pretty damn satisfied with himself. The girls were out, probably shaking their asses, having a good time. And Mandy is essentially a guard dog so they’ll be safe together. Then, he’ll have them both around, Mandy for screwin’ around, and Charlotte for…well…he hasn’t figured out what he needs Charlotte for yet. But at least all of that hard to get bullshit would go away.

He walks back into his room with some pep in his step, fresh out of the shower with a towel low on his waist. Lip pulls some underwear on and goes to grab a joint from his stash when he hears some vibrating. He follows the sound to Ian’s bed where his phone lays.

“Ian! Your phone! It’s-” flashing brightly on the screen is the name ‘Lottie’ with a picture of Ian with the girl kissing his cheek. Lip brings the phone to his ears “Fuck…hello?”

“Ian? It’s me, Charlotte. Um…can you come get me?”

“Charlotte? Where the fuck are you? Are you okay?” Lip huffs, tugging on some pants and shoving his feet into shoes. “Why are you whispering?”

“Oh, Phillip, hi…can you give the phone to Ian?” her voice cracks a little.

“No, what the fuck, what’s going on?”

“I…Mandy and I got separated and I’m in some house with some random guys that I don’t know. I locked myself in the bathroom, but…I need someone to come get me.”

“Alright, honey, look I’m coming, I just need an address alright. I’m comin’, I just need an address.”

“I…I don’t know, should I go look?”

“No, honey, Charlotte, stay in the bathroom, I’ll figure it out, fuck!” Lip growls, running out of the room and down the steps, swinging the door open and ignoring Ian’s calls. 

When he opens the door, Mandy is standing on the stoop, a smile on her face. “Hey, Lip. You headed somewhere?”

“Where is she?” 

“Who?” Mandy asks, shoving him back softly as he grips her arms. “Where is who?”

“Fuck, fuckin’ Charlotte, where is Charlotte? You left her somewhere?” The blond panics, hair sticking out everywhere, blue eyes wide with panic. 

“How do you know she didn’t leave me?” she asks.

“Are you fucking kidding?” Lip growls, gripping her again. “An address!”

“Fuck, its 303 on Shelby.” Lip pushes past her, Ian and Mickey close behind.

“Christ, Mandy, you took that snowflake to a fuckin’ whorehouse?” Mickey scoffs.

“She belongs there. Boyfriend stealing tramp.”

Lip doesn’t even bother to look back, jingling the spare key he had made to Kev’s car in his hand as he climbs in and speeds off down the road.

Charlotte, has herself tucked tightly against the door, acting as a human barricade. Her knees close to her chest, her eyes shut tightly. V, I should’ve called V. And Kev would have come. But I didn’t want anyone to be in trouble. I’m…I’m scared. 

There’s a loud knocking at the door, for the first time in like forty minutes. “No…” the banging continues and she flinches, trying to use the stern voice V told her to use when her boobs first came in, “No go the fuck away! Fuck off!” 

“Lottie, come on, it’s me. Ian.” 

“Ian?” she shoots up from her spot on the tile floor, yanking the door open and seeing her redheaded friend. She launches forward into his arms, hugging him tightly. “Ian. Oh my God you fucking came.” 

He wraps his arms around her tightly, tucking her head tightly into his jacket. “Keep your head down alright, just walk with me.” Ian quietly leads her out of the house, the sound of pounding music fades and the cool Chicago air surrounds her. Two more sets of footsteps join theirs and the sound of two guns being put on safety clicks in her ears. 

Once they’re in the car, Ian uncovers her face, and they pull forward, Charlotte stares forward quietly. 

Lip doesn’t look back. He doesn’t want to see her tear stained cheeks, or water filled eyes. He doesn’t want to think about how angry this fucking stunt Mandy pulled makes him. And he doesn’t want to face the fact that he’s the reason she was even in there. Instead, he quietly rests his head on the headrest, looking everywhere but the rearview mirror.

When they get to V and Kev’s house, all three men prepare themselves for Charlotte to go running into the house, fall into her cousin’s arms and cry about what happened. But as they pulled up, they sat in silence as her sniffles slowed. She stares at the house, wiping away falling tears before turning to Ian asking quietly. “Do you have a water bottle?”

Ian glances at her before kicking his boyfriend’s seat. “Mick, give her yours.”

“What?” he grunts. Ian kicks again and Mickey huffs. “Yeah, okay, fucksake.”

Charlotte ties her hair back before splashing the water on her face, taking the shirt Lip had loaned her to cover herself with as they left, scrubbing her face. After, she takes her hair down and works a smile onto her face. “Good?”

Lip can’t look. He can’t.

But Mickey does, nodding quietly as the girl hops out of the car and all but skips up the walkway, taking her key out and going into the house. “Great, princess isn’t a snitch. Let’s go home.”

Over the next few days the house is quiet. Or quiet for the Gallaghers. Mandy’s been AWOL since that night and Charlotte’s been keeping her distance. Aside from small smiles she’s been staying away from Lip like he’s the plague. 

Until a week later at 1 am when Lip got up to get a drink and he heard a squeal coming from Debbie’s room. She was supposed to be at a sleepover but forever the big brother he ran anyway swinging the door open, bat in hand, only to find Frank stuck in the window. 

“Hello, son, help your old man in will you?” he slurs, burping before falling limp again. “Quickly, please my boy, there’s some rather attractive girl screaming and throwing rocks at me from outside.”

“Fuckin’ Frank.” he huffs, jogging outside to find Charlotte, picking up rocks and launching them at his father’s dangling ass.

“Phillip! Phillip, you there’s s-some man, trying to break into Debbie’s room. I left my phone inside and apparently no one in this goddamn neighborhood takes screaming seriously! You have to call the cops!”

“You know, I would, but he'll come back anyway.” the blond sighs.

“What?” 

“He’s my dad.”

“Oh.” Charlotte breathes, running a hand through her hair. “Oh, sorry Mr. Gallagher!”

“Don’t uh, don’t apologize to him, he is breaking in. And he’s a fuckin’ drunk.”

“That’s alright young lady. Why don’t you come on inside and pull me in, then we can get to know…” Frank grunts, legs kicking himself a little further in. “Each other better.”

“Fuck Frank.”

“Oh, unless you’ve staked your claim here as well son. Despite the chemistry I felt between us when you were launching rock at my ass, I promised I would never do that to my son again. Begone, Temptress.” 

Charlotte just laughs, dropping the remaining rocks

In her hand, placing it over her chest. “Jesus.” She breathes. Cold air shows the expelling of her breath. 

Lip kicks the ground in front of him lightly, staring at the girl. “M’sorry everytime you’re around me some shit is happening. Did uh…did Frank scare you?”

“Mm no.” She hums. “I don’t scare easily.” Lip scoffs laughing and she rolls her eyes, “okay I do, but I recover quickly.”

“Okay. Okay good.” He smiles at the ground, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. “Um, Debbie is at this lady Sheila’s house. Doesn’t come home until tomorrow mornin’. So uh, he’s not gonna wake her up or anythin’.”

“Good. Kids need sleep.”

Lip watches Charlotte shift her weight from side to side, looking up the street. “So do pretty girls. What’re you doin’ up, you’ve been home from work for a couple hours.” 

The woman’s eyes widen as she looks at him, mouth opening and closing before she decided to speak. “You uh…you watch me come home from work?”

Lip takes a drag from the cigarette and surprises himself when he makes the effort to blow the smoke in the opposite direction, making sure it doesn't blow into the girl’s face. “I…uh just like making sure you get home safe.” He gets closer, dipping his head to get a better look at her sheepish face. “That’s what friends do, right?”

Charlotte shakes her head, grin still on her face as she begins to back toward her yard. “No, nope, we had a deal…and-”

“Hey, I held up my end, it’s not my fault my ex was a psycho.”

“Ex?” Charlotte’s head jerks up, her brows furrowed. “That wasn’t-”

“Not because of you. It was a long time comin’.” And Lip means it. He’d attempted to break up with Mandy more times than he could count on his fingers. And toes. But the girl was fuckin’ persistant and well…good at distracting him. But he never saw their thing as something that would last. It was fun. Stress relief. Until it became stressful. Shit he still didn’t know if she considered him shoving past her at the house and ignoring her since the incident breaking up or a lovers spat. Lip had no intentions of going back though. He’s set his sights elsewhere. 

“I’m sorry. About Mandy.” 

“Yeah? Don’t be.” He sighs, watching her rub her arms in hopes of creating some warmth. “So what were you doin’ out here?”

“I was…feeling antsy. Can’t sleep, back home, when I can’t sleep, I usually walk it off. I only got this far before I saw your dad.” 

“You thought you were gonna go on a walk by yourself? Out here?” Lip asks incredulously. Charlotte offers him a nod and a shrug, reaching into her reindeer pajama pants pocket and producing a small bedazzled can of pepper spray. “Yeah, okay, stay here, bunny, I’ll be back.”

“What? Phillip?” she calls after him as he disappears into the house. “Bunny?”

When Lip comes back out he has a shirt and a jacket on, another jacket in his hands with a hat balled up in the pocket. “C’mere, arms through, let’s go.” he pulls the jacket onto her, zipping her up before pulling the hat out of the pocket and tugging it onto her head.

“Stop, it’s messing up my hair.” she whines, trying to push at his hands.

“Yeah, you want pretty hair or pneumonia?” He grunts, tugging that hat down further, “you look pretty anyway, c’mon. Let’s go on your walk.” 

“Fine. As friends, Phillip. Friends.” She asserts.

“Yes, yeah, friends. Let’s go.” Lip huffs, pulling her closer to him, hanging his arm over her shoulder.

“You couldn’t have grabbed one of Fiona’s jackets? This one is ugly.”

“Brat.”

“These are so pretty. Why don’t they do this in the neighborhood we’re in?” Charlotte asks.

They’d walked a whole away. Lip took her to one of those bougie neighborhoods a little ways away where they participate in some stupid, Christmas yard decoration competition. There are lights, little mangers, and blow up shit everywhere. He’d always thought it was stupid but Liam loves coming over here, and so did Debbie and Ian when they were younger. He’d tried to take Karen over here with Debbie and Liam last year and she’d wandered off and given a blowjob to one of the neighborhood dads. He’d never bothered to bring Mandy, didn’t even think of it.

But before he knew it, during their walk, he’d just led Charlotte here. Her eyes lit up as they walked from house to house. Her cold, soft, smaller hands in his warm, rough, larger ones as she pulled him throughout the neighborhood. Her eyes light up with each new arrangement she sees. They scooted closer, pressing their cheeks together as they took pictures, in almost all of them blue eyes were on her instead of the camera. Watching, relishing in a wide, dimpled smile. 

They walk like they're playing a game, switching her from hand to hand, from his right to his left, back and front. “Seriously?”

“I think it would make the neighborhood kids happy.” she hums. “I love Christmas.”

“I see that.” Lip nods, letting her twirl before pulling her back to him again, wrapping his arm around her with his forearm over her chest. “You uh…gonna go home to Virginia for Christmas?”

Charlotte shrugs, letting her head rest back against his chest as they stop in front of a brightly lit house. “Dunno. If I save up enough to go back home. If not I’ll spend it with Kev and V. And You Gallaghers.” she grins, reaching up and squeezing Lip’s cheek.

“Ha, yeah.”

“Thank you, by the way.” Charlotte mumbles, toying with the sleeve of Lip’s jacket. “I…thank you for coming to get me so quick, and bringing Ian and Mickey. I was…was really scared so thank you.” 

“‘S’okay. I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I like hangin’ out with you. When you let me.” Lip nudges her shoulder forward with his own.

“Yeah?” she smiles, turning her head to look back at him. “Me too. And thanks for taking me to see this too. I like living with V and Kev, but this place is really different than where I’m from. This was nice. Reminds me of home. And I know it’s not your thing. Next friend date, we’ll do something you’ll like to do.” Charlotte promises.

“Nah, this was fun.” Lip shrugs, letting Charlotte break out of his grip, pulling him along with her. “Date huh?”

“Friend date, Phillip.” she corrects. “So think about what you’d wanna do, give me a ballpark and I’ll plan it.”

“Yeah? I know,” the blond moves closer, pushing her hair away from her neck, placing a kiss on her shoulder before bringing his hand to her jaw, kissing her neck and jaw too. “What I wanna do. Hm?” he hums, placing an open mouthed kiss on her skin. 

Charlotte releases a heavy breath, the light whimper in her throat isn’t lost on Lip as he uses his other hand to grip her waist. “Phillip…okay Phillip,” she stammers, pushing at his chest, sighing when he pulls back only slightly, keeping them face to face, sharing air. Charlotte clears her throat, offering him a dimpled smile. “Friends don’t fuck friends.” she pushes him one more time, leaving their embrace and heading back down the street.

Lip stares after her incredulously, adjusting himself before mumbling a ‘fuck’ under his breath and following the girl. “Um yeah, they fuckin’ do!”

“Well we don’t!”

“I went on a vacation there, once, with my ex-boyfriend, it was nice. I loved North Carolina.” Charlotte smiles. 

“Yeah, doubt it was the part that my cousin is from. But, uh, he’s a good kid.” Lip nods, rubbing his thumb along the skin on her hip, disappointed to see the sign to their street up ahead. They’d been out for hours, but it’s only felt like a few minutes. He doesn’t want to take her home yet. “So ex-boyfriend. Is he uh…still around?”

“Why?”

Lip shrugs, ushering her toward her home, stopping her from taking the hat off and mumbling ‘keep it’. “M’kinda hopin’ he’s an asshole, less competition for me right? You gotta get over this friend thing some time. Hopin’ I’m the one who’s around when you do.” 

“Phillip…” she sighs, an exasperated smile on her face when she whirls around to look him in the eye. 

“Bunny?”

“Where’d that come from, huh?” she asks, tilting her head. 

Lip nudges her chin softly with his knuckle. “What, you don’t like that? It’s cute. Like you.” 

“Hm.” she scoffs, leaning closer to his face. “F-R-I-E-N-”

“Lip!” a voice shouts from the Gallagher’s steps. Lip’s head drops in defeat, the muscle in his jaw jumps as he grits his teeth. “Thank God you came home, finally! No one is opening the door! I’m freezing my ass off here!” 

“Jesus, it’s fuckin’ five in the mornin’. What’re you doin’ here?” Lip groans, pushing Charlotte behind him slightly. 

“Oh, my sweet boy, I’ve missed you. I’m so glad to be home. You look so handsome.” shaky, cold hands cup his face causing him to swear under his breath. 

“Fuck, get..get off.” He knocks her hands away. 

“And who is this? You’re really pretty, are you my Lippy’s girlfriend? You guys getting back from a date?” she winks dramatically.

Charlotte looks up at Lip with wide eyes, taking in his tense shoulders, clenched jaw, and steps between him and the woman, a charming smile planted on her face. “Hi, I’m Lip’s friend Charlotte. And V’s cousin. Nice to meet you.” 

“Well, hi, sweetheart!” the woman says cheerfully, throwing her arm tightly around Charlotte, “I’m Monica, Lip’s mommy! C’mon, let’s get you some hot chocolate. You look cold. Is that Lip’s jacket? He never lets anyone borrow his jacket. He’s never been good at sharing…” Monica guides Charlotte to the Gallagher house, only stopping on the stairs to mouth to her son, ‘she’s hot!’ and keep moving. 

Lip shakes his head, scrubbing his eyes tiredly, following them in. “Fuck.”

[mimisempai]

Their most precious treasure

Summary

Hearing Aziraphale explain the tradition of giving gifts to Muriel at Christmas, Crowley recalls another explanation given by Brother Francis years before. 

Notes

For @parttimefairy in exchange for your donation Alzheimer’s research UK

Prompt requested : "During Christmas time, Crowley and Aziraphale are spending time together preparing the festivities (possibly as Nanny Ashtoresh and Brother Francis for Warlock.) During that, they beginn to bicker about the meaning of Christmas and the purpose of gift giving."

INEFFABLE ADVENT CALENDER

On Ao3

Rating G -  1017 words

"Where did the tradition of giving presents at Christmas come from?"

Crowley paused in the doorway of the bookshop as he heard Muriel's question to Aziraphale.

The angel's words transported the demon back in time to when Warlock had asked them the same question.

"Where does the tradition of giving presents at Christmas come from, Nanny?"

Nanny Ashtoreth knelt down beside the little boy and began to explain, "That, my dear boy, goes back a very long way. The ancient Romans celebrated the feast of Saturnalia, where they gave thanks for the abundance provided by Saturn, the god of agriculture. The festivities were celebrated with a sacrifice and a public banquet, followed by private gifts, continuous parties, and a wild atmosphere where social rank was eliminated."

"What does that mean, social rank was eliminated, Nanny?"

Nanny Ashtoreth smiled softly and replied, "Here, for example, it would mean that there would be no more differences between you, me, your parents, and everyone who lives here. Even between me and Brother Francis."

"What kind of heresy are you telling him, Nanny?"

Nanny Ashtoreth watched as Brother Francis knelt and took little Warlock's hand. 

"We give each other gifts in memory of the wise men who laid gold, frankincense and myrrh at the feet of the infant Jesus."

Crowley shook his head and interrupted, "That was much later. The day on which gifts were exchanged was known as Sigillaria and took place on December 19th. Valuable gifts were at odds with the spirit of the season, so the Romans exchanged more modest items such as candles, seasonal figurines, and other gifts intended to amuse or terrify other guests. Etiquette dictated that the more modest the gift, the stronger the bond of friendship it represented."

"This sucks!" exclaimed Warlock.

Aziraphale smiled broadly, "Oh, then you prefer the story of the wise men."

"No, none of those stupid stories, I prefer the Santa Claus story we heard in school, it's much cooler."

The boy ran off under the eyes of Nanny and Brother Francis, who looked at each other in disbelief.

"So in the end, you see, there are many different meanings behind this gesture of gift-giving, but what I retain after all this time is..."

Crowley was pulled from his thoughts as the angel finished his explanation to Muriel.

The demon approached and Aziraphale, attracted by the movement, turned his head toward him before continuing softly, "It doesn't matter what reason tradition gives or what tradition you choose to follow, the important thing is that you give it with your heart, so even if it's a flower found on the side of the road, if you give it with your heart, the person you're offering it to will consider it their most precious treasure."

Muriel nodded and said quietly, "Thank you, I know what to do now."

Aziraphale asked gently, "What do you mean?"

She replied, "About Christmas presents. I know how to choose what to give you all."

Muriel took their coat and Aziraphale watched them go with a smile on his face as the demon approached him.

Crowley asked quietly, "Theirr most precious treasure, eh?"

The angel nodded and fumbled in his jacket pocket before pulling out a small cloth pouch and holding it out to Crowley. 

The demon took it, untied the string that held it closed, and turned it over in his open palm. A small, dried white flower fell out.

He looked sharply up at Aziraphale and whispered in wonder, "You've kept it all this time."

Aziraphale approached and, placing his hand on the demon's, said softly, "Of course, one of my most precious treasures."

"What's that on your hand, Nanny?" asked Brother Francis.

Taking off her snow-covered cloak after helping young Warlock shake the snow from his boots, Nanny Ashtoreth turned to Brother Francis and said in the same gentle voice she sometimes used with Warlock, "As we were returning from our morning walk, I saw this little white flower sticking out of the snow and I thought of you."

Nanny held out the little white flower to the gardener, who gently took it.

Brother Francis asked, "You thought of me? But... why?"

"A white flower that manages to grow in spite of the snow made me think of a certain angel who manages to move forward in spite of adversity."

Nanny Ashtoreth turned to take the young warlock to the kitchen for a snack, unaware that Brother Francis' puzzled gaze was following her.

Aziraphale continued, "The more modest the gift, the stronger the bond of friendship it represents. That's what you said. So of course it's become one of my most precious treasures."

He carefully placed the dried flower back in its pouch and slipped it into his jacket pocket.

He barely had time to raise his head before the demon cupped his face in his hands and, bringing his face close to the angel's, murmured against his lips, "Every time I think it's not possible to love you more, and every time you prove me wrong by doing something adorable like this.

Aziraphale chuckled softly and replied a little sheepishly, "But all I did was preserve this little flower."

Crowley replied, "A little flower given to you. By me. And you kept it all this time."

Then he pressed his lips to the angel's and kissed him tenderly.

When they parted a few moments later, Aziraphale said with a playful twinkle in his eye, "The more modest the gift, the stronger the bond of friendship it represents. So I've decided not to give you anything for Christmas this year."

The demon raised an eyebrow, "Angel?"

The angel continued, his expression still playful, "Well, yes, the modesty of the gift is exponential to the strength of the friendship, since I love you immeasurably, nothing is the most modest gift I can give you."

This time it was he who kissed the confused mouth of his demon.

But at the same time, who could disagree with the angel?

There was nothing more precious to offer each other than their mutual love.

Their most precious treasure.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : (After season 2) 

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[kandisheek]

steve/tony with alpha!tony and omega!steve? fluffy or smutty, up to you! 👀 I just finished reading Tis the Season and I absolutely love the way you write a/b/o <333

Aw, thank you so much! Since you enjoyed Tis the Season, here’s a snippet from that same universe. I hope you enjoy it!

---

Steve’s first Christmas at the tower had been a lavish affair, hundreds of guests and a giant tree to accompany the party. It had been overwhelming, loud and flashy, all of which were things he’d associated with their host for the night.

Now that they’d all settled in and become friends, Tony had apparently done away with the need to impress them. Which suited Steve just fine. He’d always liked a more private party anyway, and having his chosen family along with his alpha with him was all he’d ever needed.

Steve’s eyes drifted across the room to Tony, who was sitting on the couch and chatting with Rhodey, a glass in his hand. He smiled involuntarily as a wave of affection rolled over him. Christmas always made him appreciate the things he was grateful for. And there was nothing he loved more than having Tony at his side.

Bruce walked past him with a tray of sugarcookies, and Steve gladly snatched one up, turning back to Natasha and Maria who seemed to be squabbling over who would win in a fight, Santa or Jack Frost. He was only half-listening, just basking in the calm atmosphere of the evening. It was nice to see everyone so relaxed and happy.

“Steve! Hey, Steve!”

Steve turned around, smiling at Tony who was beckoning him over to the couch with a shifty expression on his face. Rhodey seemed to have wandered off, so Steve walked over to Tony, happy to keep him company. He’d just opened his mouth to say hello when Tony grabbed his arm and unceremoniously dragged him onto his lap so Steve was sitting on him sideways.

“What the –” Steve froze, then frowned at Tony. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Just stay still,” Tony said, pulling Steve a little closer. And even more firmly on top of his rock hard cock.

“It’s Christmas. What are you doing,” Steve hissed, and Tony huffed.

“Calm down, I’m not going to do anything. You’re just less suspicious than a pillow. I don’t want anyone else to see.”

Steve barely held in a snort. “Wow, thanks a lot.”

“It’s your own damn fault,” Tony grumbled, hiding his face in Steve’s neck. “You did this to me.”

“Me? I was all the way over there, minding my own business. How is this –”

Steve broke off when Tony shoved his glass under Steve’s nose. One sniff was all it took to make an incredulous smile break out on Steve’s lips.

“Oh my god. Seriously?”

“I told you,” Tony said miserably. “Eggnog boners. That’s a thing now.”

“Jesus, keep it down,” Steve said, but he was laughing too hard to do the same. “God, that’s so ridiculous.”

Tony glowered at him. “What am I supposed to do? It tastes just like you.”

“Sorry not sorry.” Steve settled more comfortably in Tony’s lap, smiling when Tony let out a shaky breath. “You alright there?”

Tony growled. “Laugh it up while you can. I’m going to fuck you through the mattress later.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Tony stuck out his lower lip, and Steve couldn’t help but kiss the pout off his lips, chuckling when Tony nuzzled his jaw.

“Ew, keep it in the bedroom,” Clint said as he walked past the couch, munching on a gingerbread man. “I’m getting more punch. You want anything?”

“Another eggnog for Tony,” Steve said, laughing when Tony squeezed his sides, giving him a pitiful look. Clint eyed them both before he shook his head.

“Sure thing. Weirdos.”

Tony barely waited for Clint to turn his back before he nipped at Steve’s scent gland, making him shiver. “My revenge will be swift and merciless.”

Steve smiled, grabbing Tony’s hand to interlace it with his. “I’m looking forward to it.”

--

You can also find an extended version of this fic on AO3, right here :)

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Are they on the Naughty List? Or have they’ve been good all year?Well that’s for you to decide.

Start:November 12

End: December 31

«timeline»

◇ day 1-7: {Nov 12-18}

Day 1: Luis Sera - Ice Skating

Day 2: Carlos Oliveira - “I can’t believe you did that to Santa…”

Day3: Raiden - “I made you some hot cocoa.”

Day 4: Peter Parker - we were going to a Christmas party but fuck if you don’t just look sinful in red, and you know what? Fuck that Christmas party || Insomniac Peter ||

Day5:Goro Takemura- Dancing In The Snow

Day 6:Johhny Cage-Sucking on a Candy Cane

Day 7: Peter Quill- “are you really playing christmas music already? it’s barely november”

◇ day 8-14: {Nov 19-25}

Day 8:Gale Dekarios-Watching the snowfall from inside a cosy house

Day 9:Sam Drake-“Carmel apples, leaves falling down. What could better then November?” “I don’t know maybe fucking June?”

Day 10:Peter Parker -we got a little too carried away with the Christmas lights, and now suddenly my hands are bound with the lights and oh my god are we about to have sex? || Insomniac Peter ||

Day 11:Nathan Drake- it’s holiday dinner with your family, and oh Jesus where are your hands going?

Day 12:Peter Parker-“Do you need help hanging up the Christmas lights?” || MCU verse ||

Day 13: Peter Parker-“HAPPY NOVEMBER!” “No one wishes anyone a happy November.” “Well I just did.”|| MCU verse ||

Day 14:Tadashi Hamada-one lending the other their scarf to keep them warm.

◇ day 15-21 {Nov 26-Dec 2}

Day 15:Jacob Seed-Handing their S/O a positive pregnancy test with a sprig of holly and a note reading ‘Merry Christmas’

Day 16:Spencer Reid-Baking holiday cookies.

Day 17:Alejandro Vargas-Reader wearing nothing but a Santa hat

Day 18:Loki-A naughty sleigh ride || Exhibitionism sex ||

Day 19:Alex Casey-Build A snowman.

Day 20:Chris Redfield-“Let’s do something that puts us on the naughty list.”

Day 21:Mike Schmidt-Santa Baby: reader has decided to dress as Mrs. Claus for a little more “adult” Christmas fun. Oh boy!

◇ day 22-28 {Dec 3 -9}

Day 22:Matt Murdock-I picked you for secret Santa but I wrapped the wrong box so now I’ve given you a very festive sex toy, and oh my god this is so embarrassing

Day 23:Halsin-“Breasts/thighs are my favorite part to nibble on.”

Day 24:Miguel O’Hara-“You know, tying the legs together keeps everything moist.”

Day 25:Ethan Winters-Christmas Morning.

Day 26: Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish-Hanging Stockings.

Day 27:Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley-“The turkey’s not the only thing getting stuffed today.”

Day 28:Modern!Mizu-“Save some of that whipped cream for later.”*soon*

◇ day 29- 35 {Dec 10-16}

Day 29:Bigby Wolf-“You look even more beautiful covered in snow.”

Day 30:Harry Osborn-Christmas shenanigans under the tree, if you know what I mean

Day 31:Ethan Winters-“I’ll be content if you are the one stuffing my stocking.”

Day 32:Mike Schmidt-“Go on, open it.”

Day 33:Wyll Ravengard-“Did you decorate the tree without me? I can’t believe this!”

Day 34: Bruno Madrigal-Kiss Me Under The Mistletoe.

Day 35:Jordan Li-“Excuse me—where is my Christmas kiss?”

◇ day 36-42 {Dec 17-23}

Day 36:Mike Schmidt-"Why are there so many mistletoe?"

Day 37:Gojo“I’d like to be one of the unhealthy things you put inside your body this weekend.”*Soon*

Day 38:Luis Sera-“Alright, mister. I know you’re the one who keeps hanging up mistletoe everywhere."

Day 39:Chris Redfield-“Thanksgiving is for giving thanks” “And for body slamming each other during the family football match!”

Day 40:Aaron Hotchner-The scent of real Christmas trees

Day 41: Derek Morgan -“I’m going to have you stuffed better than the turkey by the end of the night.”

Day 42:Victor "Sully" Sullivan-“I’m not much of a cook, but I’m good at glazing.”

◇ day 43-50 {Dec 24-31}

Day 43:Leon S. Kennedy-Cabin Sex { Christmas Eve sex }

Day 44: Billy Butcher-“Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!”

Day 45: Bucky Barnes-“Did you spike the eggnog again?”

Day 46: Spencer Ried-“Will you make a gingerbread house with me?”

Day 47: Clint Barton- “It’s Snowing”

Day 48: Joel-Peppermint-flavoured everything

Day 49:Mizu-Snow/temperature play

Day 50:Johnny Cage-“It’s time for hand turkey’s everyone.” “FUCK YES YES!”

[eddiestightywhities]

CRACK (TO THE HEAD) WITH A CAPITAL 'C'

(AKA The Written at 4am Buddie Crack-ish Fic Starring: Thirsty Song Lyrics, National Treasure Christopher Diaz, and Way Too Many Feels For Its Own Damn Good)

.

It's Friday morning, two minutes to zero-ten hundred-hours, according to Eddie's Timex Indiglo watch which is never even a half-second out, when he unlocks the door to Buck's place to drop Christopher off for his overnight stay—Chris refuses to call them sleepovers anymore because age thirteen is apparently The Number of The Beast—before Eddie will have to bail pretty sharpish to kick-off his twenty-four shift that begins at eleven.

On entering the apartment, they're met by the sound of raucous, upbeat music.

Eddie scans the loft for his friend and has to do a seriously comical double take when he catches sight of Buck, who has one hand spread palm-down on his the couch cushions, and the other behind his back as he performs shirtless one-armed wonder press-ups (with perfect fucking form, as always) to the punky beat of The Offspring's Pretty Fly For A White Guy that's currently blasting from Buck's bluetooth speaker—riiiiiight as the Give it to me baby! A-ha! A-ha! part of the song hits and the whole scene has Eddie's brain record-scratching and stopping him dead in his army issue steelies.

Dead, fucking dead, ¡Santa María, salva mi alma!

His jaw instantly drops through the floor and into the apartment below without his permission as if there are lead weights attached to his teeth, his mouth now fully hanging open and catching all the damn flies in a completely horrifying display of blatant, lust-filled shock.

Buck is breathtaking at the best of times, but right here, right now, he is heart-stoppingly unfuckingreal.

READ MORE BELOW OR HERE ON AO3

Eddie's bestie (best friend-shaped, Eddie! Eddie thinks, Buck is best friend-shaped!) is carelessly grunting like some sort of sex-machine that's been built to Eddie's exact specifications, and each grunt is louder than the last with each new, hard push upwards of Buck's swollen-thick torso, glistening sweat beading on his—well, on his absolutely fucking everything, Jesus fucking Christ on a bike, and Eddie's washing machine brain is at once stuck on an eternal spin-cycle and may well break down any second now and have him collapsing like a shabby old rag doll dressed in Eddie's Henley and Eddie's ripped jeans and falling to his now-violently shaking knees if he doesn't grab the fuck onto something, STAT.

He's about to shamefully steady himself with a hand to his son's shoulder when Christopher starts yipping like a madman then joining in with the song lyrics by positively shouting out the chorus.

“Give it to me baby! A-ha! A-ha!” he screams in a deliberate and absurd soprano, and Eddie's mind is screaming in Shut-Down, having first upgraded to an aneurysm, or at least a stroke, and he has to slap a hand over his kid's mouth, pronto, because he doesn't know what the fuck else he possibly could do at this point in the fantasy-laiden world that is currently unfolding before his probably now bloodshot eyes; nothing else he can think of to stop himself from ending up in a drooling heap that will become known as The Reduction Formally Known As Eddie Diaz's Gay Panic when he melts onto Evan Buckley's kitchen linoleum at possibly one minute to ten on a Friday afternoon in June in the year of our Lord 2024.

Eddie just barely manages to squeak out a truly pathetic, “Nope! Nuh-huh! No!” before that particular Cartoon Network-esque slapstick disaster becomes an unfathomable and inescapable reality.

Christopher obviously protests his outrage with a muffled but still impressively indignant, “Daaaad! I'm thirteen YEARS old, not thirteen MONTHS old!” just as Buck spots them both and smiles his big, adorable smile, immediately abandoning his exercises to turn the music off (oh, thank the Heavens!) and jumping up to stride over towards Christopher and Eddie to meet them where they're standing around like kitchen gremlins by the central island in Buck's kitchenette.

Sopping wet, wide-spread sweat patches are darkening the majority of Buck's once-light grey jersey short-shorts (holy crap, they are short and are leaving nothing to the imagination), those unfairly long legs of his slick and shimmering with dewy-fresh perspiration, just like the rest of his devastatingly gorgeous half-naked body, and Eddie wouldn't be joking if he regaled this moment to somebody at a later date (as if he ever would) by telling them that his entire life flashed before his eyes—because it absolutely balls to the wall no fucking shit just did.

He blinks approximately seven-hundred and thirty-three times in the less-than-four seconds it takes for Buck to reach them.

Christopher is flailing under Eddie's death-grip like a traumatised kidnap victim, while Eddie is continuing to freak the fuck out in Narnia like the crazed Closet Case that he is.

Edmundo Diaz—First Responder; Lapsed Roman Catholic—finds himself praying for a natural disaster, or an act of God, or, or, or, just... Something! Anything!

¡Por favor, Dios, por favor!

Resolute to the fact he has absolutely one-hundred percent secured his place in the very lowest circle of Hell, Eddie plasters a surely maniacal pearly-white grin onto his stupid and definitely reddening face, and says, “Howdy!” far too loudly in his thickest Texan accent for some unknown fucking reason—which is far, far louder and far, far thicker than any he ever sported while actually growing up in Texas—because he's clearly gone bat-shit fucking insane. Then he's breaking out into even more of a full-body sweat than Buck who has been working out for what is probably around the half-hour mark or more, by this point, because Sweaty Adonis Buckaroo is now right fucking there right in fucking front of Eddie so fucking close almost close enough to reach out and touch—

Ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit!

And isn't this just aces?

Eddie thinks, Fuck fucking push-ups, fuck The Fucking Offspring, and fuck fucking Eddie's fucking life so fucking hard, godfuckingdammit.

Eddie is so Bucked.

Buck's smile is turning inquisitive (and somehow even more adorable) at Eddie's clear display of Buck-induced brain damage, before his baby-blues are twinkling with something... Mischievous? Cunning?

And then he's answering Eddie's dumb as shit greeting with, “Aloha, cowboy,” his brows snaking up his forehead, tongue lolling out of his mouth to rest on that sinfully pouty-pink bottom lip in a way that is the complete fucking opposite of innocent, leaving Eddie wondering if it's possible to die twice in the space of—well, ever.

(He knows all too well that it is, but he's been Bucked, remember, so how about giving his brain a break, hmm? THANK YOU SO MUCH).

Then Eddie wonders: Is this the ghost of Buck 1.0 that's come to say:

Hi, babygirl, I'm here to Buck you up good, real good, so you better hold on real tight because you're goin' downtown faster than a whore's panties, you slutty little—*GUNSHOTS*

About to possibly kick the bucket for the third time in as many minutes, Eddie realises he doesn't really know what Hawaii could possibly have to do with the Wild West (Aloha Cowboy?) but that he honestly couldn't give any amount of fucks, flying or otherwise, because unless his head has been cruelly hoodwinked with a massive serving of Wishful Thinking, he is also realising that...

That...

Buck is seriously flirting with him right now?!

He ponders briefly over how hard he actually hit his head when he'd banged it into the doorframe of his truck, maybe five minutes earlier when grabbing Christopher's crutches from the backseat just after they'd arrived.

Eddie then notices Christopher's teenage Smirky McSmirkerson features in his periphery (Chris had managed to prize Eddie's numb hand from his face a moment ago) and also the way his son's own head is snapping between his now fully-loco father and his Buck, and Eddie thinks of tennis matches, and flying pigs, and how stiflingly hot it seems to have become in the loft in the last thirty or so seconds.

Then Buck is licking at those lovely lips of his, turning to Christopher and saying, “What do you say we go out on a breakfast date on Sunday morning, after your Dad has slept a bunch, huh Christopher?”

Only, when he says the word 'date', Eddie doesn't think he's imagining the way Buck's eyes flicker pointedly in Eddie's exact direction.

“Because I'm off the whole weekend,” he continues, “so the three of us could drive the jeep out of town and I could buy you both giant syrupy waffles with maple bacon and Horchata milkshakes from Fosselman's and then... And then we can go visit the the Greek Theatre, and then maybe Griffith Observatory later on in the evening, when the stars come out, and we'll hold hands,”—again, his eyes bore longingly into Eddie's for a split-second that feels like a lived lifetime—“all three of us, like we used to when you were tiny, Chris, you remember that? And it'll be the best day that we've ever, ever had together, I absolutely know it.”

Buck is looking at Eddie again, only Buck isn't looking away this time and Eddie is almost positive that his eyes are screaming: Yes, Eds! Yes, I want you, too, man! So let's do this!

“Ew, no way,” Christopher instantaneously complains—before he's quickly backtracking and amending his statement with, “To the hand-holding, I mean. The rest sounds pretty good, though, Buck. What do you think, Dad?” and he even manages to sound marginally appreciative at the tail end—appreciative for a sharp, snarky teenager, that is.

Christopher then fully turns to Eddie (Eddie who's body is now sans soul) and says, “Can we really have waffles and milkshakes for breakfast Dad? Can we? Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease don't be a major Joy Assassin and say 'It's not a proper meal if there's no vitamins involved, Mijo', because it'll be a Sunday, and it sounds so awesome, like the rest of the day does, too, actually. And you love Buck, Dad, so maybe just you and him can be sappy Sallys and hold hands and be all gross together, and I'll secretly snap your picture when you're mooning at Buck with heart-eyes, like you always do, and Buck will give you heart-eyes back, like he always does, too, except this time you can both do it while you're actually looking at each other, and then I'll send the photo to Aunt Maddie and Uncle Chim who can maybe finally convince you two to move in together and get married like I've been trying to get them to for years, now!”

Eddie doesn't know where the hell the kid got the breath from for all those truths.

Because that's what that was; Eddie's truth, all of it.

But was it really Buck's truth, too?

Like they're rehearsing in a play based on their lives, Buck, on cue, lets out a really happy-sounding gasp that quickly morphs into a happy-sounding laugh, and Eddie bottle-rockets right out of the fucking apartment and off into the fucking stratosphere.

He is very much back in the room, though, when Christopher takes his hand to gracelessly slam-join it with Buck's, which is calloused like his own due to the life-saving work they proudly tackle together day-to-day—always together, every day they can be, always, partners in everything they do—and Buck's hand is big, and warm, too, and all kinds of wonderful, and then Eddie is not only thinking about all the skin and the hot and the sweaty and the gorgeous, but also about how Buck has saved Eddie's life, so many times, now, and saved him in so many different ways from practically the first week he and Chris spent in LA after leaving El Paso, has saved him in every way possible, actually, every which way under the sun and the moon and the stars, even the ones they can't see from Griffith Observatory. And even though Buck has just murdered Eddie twice already this morning in the silly-short space of time he and Christopher have been here, with his push-up grunts and sexy-swagger and his 'Aloha, Cowboy' (whatever the fuck that even means) and, most of all, above everything else, Buck's Over Nine-Thousand level of Adorability, Buck's boundless generosity and kindness, Buck's inherently thoughtful nature, and Buck's twelve-sizes-too-big heart, he is saving Eddie again with the way he's letting Eddie Eddie love, love, love him.

And the fact that he is taking care of Eddie's son today, tonight, is absolutely everything to Eddie. Buck is Christopher's Buck, Christopher's hero, and he's Eddie's hero, as well, and Eddie wants to claim him as Eddie's Buck, too, because Buck thinks Christopher is awesome and always genuinely looks forward to looking after him, to loving him all of the time, just like Eddie loves Chris, and like Eddie loves Buck because Buck cares about Christopher just as much as Eddie does, and Eddie knows—he knows without a shadow of a doubt—that Buck's love for the boy they're raising together is a type of love that no other person, bar Shannon, has had for him, for them, before or ever will again.

There is nobody else like Buck in the universe.

Nobody cares or loves like Evan Buckley, or more than Evan Buckley, and being on the receiving end of that love is worth more than solid gold, or oxygen, or even spicy pepperoni pizza and a cold one after pulling a gruelling shift as a Firefighter on the never-sleeping streets of Los Angeles, CA.

And then just like that, Eddie is able to put a timely yet abrupt stop to any and all of his panic (gay or otherwise) because there isn't a shred of anxiety left inside of him, now, not about this, at least, because he knows he's got nothing whatsoever to be scared of with Buck.

So addressing his son (their son, really) Eddie nods his head emphatically and tells his boy, “Yeah, Chris, that does sound awesome; Waffles and milkshakes and all of it,” and then squeezes the hand in his, Buck's hand, and leans over Buck's kitchen counter and says easily, “I love you, Buck—I mean, I'd love to, Buck! Shit—”

“Swearbox!” Christopher chides smugly.

Eddie pulls a face at his slip-up and at his son, then clears his throat and continues a little sheepishly with, “But, um,” before looking up to remind himself of that adoring that look Buck is giving him, and then saying more decisively,“ But yeah, that other thing, too, actually, because yeah, yes, you know I love you, Buck... At least, I hope you know it,” and then he huffs a little laugh as he adamantly says, “I love you, Evan Buckley,” and thinks 'In for a penny' and strains his neck to reach across and kiss Buck shyly on the cheek.

Only his aim is a little off and he ends up planting a kinda sloppy one right on the corner of Buck's slightly parted lips, but it turns out he's glad about it and is even sort of proud that he misjudged the angle and got to feel Buck's unabashed smile against his own upturned lips, because he's wanted to do that ever since he first laid eyes on the man standing in front of him who is radiating the sun's rays out of his very core, as if he actually owns them and the sun only has them on a loner for sunny days.

Buck is smiling like he's just won the World Series—which is funny because Eddie has just won the Being Gay With a Capital 'G' award, and that means they are both Imaginary Winning Title holders, now.

Except no, fuck that, because Eddie's win isn't imaginary at all, it is very much a beautiful and viscerally Real win, actually.

Real with a capital R, muchas gracias.

Apparently, all Buck has to say about all of this right now is, “Okay, alright, you get your fine ass to work now, Eddie Spaghetti, and Christopher and I will see you on the flipside for sleep and cuddles and, and, and a Real with a capital R adventure on Sunday,” and Eddie is looking at the universe sideways for the first time in the entirety of his non-believing life. “Oh and by the way, honey—and I am so calling you honey from now on, also by the way, just so you know—I absolutely one-hundred percent, honey,” he pauses for second and and winces a bit, “Christopher I will also be adding to the Swearbox for this one... Love the shit outta you too, Edmundo Diaz.”

Christopher just claps and laughs and laughs and claps and then shouts, “My two Dads love each other, universe, did you hear that?!”

Somehow managing to smile even bigger than he was a moment ago, Buck then lightly grabs the now half wolf-whistling, half dry-retching thirteen-year-old matchmaking genius who goes by Christopher Diaz, in a loose headlock and starts scrubbing gentle knuckles through his curls, before literally kicking the happiest man on the whole damn planet out of his apartment with a ridiculously big and adorably bare foot.

“Go! You'll be late! We'll see you tomorrow, honey.”

Eddie (said happiest man on the whole damn planet) waits until Buck's door has closed behind him and then till the elevator door has slid open and shut again before fist-pumping the air like the dorky First Place In The Game of Life winner that he is, smiling what is likely his biggest smile since his darling Christopher came into this world.

Then he pulls out his tongue at nobody at all and thinks, Fuck you, first place is first place; dork or not.

As he leaves Buck's building, he also thinks, I'll have to crack my head on random shit more often, joking with himself and chuckling like a prize idiot as he crosses the side road towards his truck.

Then he's immediately cursing himself out with every swear words he knows, in both English and Spanish, for somehow allowing himself to be pulled into Buck's nonsensical woo-woo Cosmic Universe bullshit.

Vida, vida, vida.

Although...

Maybe—just maybe—he could forgive the slip, just this one time, just this once, when he recognises his chuckle as the being the very same, gloriously happy-sounding laughter that Eddie had unbelievably managed to pull from the chest of the best man he's ever known (who also happens to be the hottest man in the whole frickin universe; cosmic or otherwise).

It's the man Eddie has loved for years who—apparently, amazingly—loves Eddie right back.

Evan 'Buck' Buckley.

Christopher's Buck. Eddie's Buck.

And when he's climbing into his truck and inexplicably clocks his head on the doorframe again, for the second time today (seriously, what the actual fuck is going on here?), Eddie looks around suspiciously and surreptitiously before taking a minute to peer hesitantly up at the sky-blue sky and its cotton-candy clouds and the hot, hot sun with its borrowed rays, out into the universe, or to God, or who—or what—ever is or isn't out there, before finding himself about to mutter a few choice incredulous words from under his breath.

He takes a gulp of air, and says, “Yeah, okay, muchas gracias, oh cosmic powers that be, yada yada et cetera et cetera, if you do in fact exist, not that I really think you do,” whispering the statement and feeling like a first class clown, “But, just in case?” Eddie swallows the lump in his throat and soldiers on. “Just in case, here it is: Yes, I obviously wholeheartedly appreciate whatever it was you might or might not have done for me back there, like, I really, honestly, seriously, do, but just—will you just please do me a solid and...” Eddie can't believe he's thinking this, let alone saying (albeit whispering) it for realsies, “...don't let Buck or Christopher or Hen or Karen or Chim or Maddie or Bobby or Athena or Ravi or, hell, any other fucker on the planet know that I actually said any of this phooey out loud, alright? Not ever. Or Santa Mierda, I will seriously come for you like a rabid Nordic Goat Herder on a mixture of bath salts and crack cocaine and crazy because I would never, ever be able to live this shit down if it got out. ¿Entiendes?”

Completely fucking done with that, Eddie starts up the engine and pulls out of his parking space outside of Buck's building, while annoyingly hoping that the universe understands at least a smidgen of Spanish, and begins the first day of the rest of his life, mumble-humming a not entirely unenthusiastic tune...

“Give it to me baby! A-ha! A-ha!”

.

(this had barely one skim-over edit so please be kind!)

[pintsizemama]

Dressing as Santa

Day 21

Summary: Draco doesn’t understand your family tradition.

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x You, Draco Malfoy x Female Reader (American)

Fandom: Harry Potter AU (no magic)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: language, vague references to unhappy childhood and pregnancy

Word Count: 399

A/N: This takes place after Yule Log.

Day 20 Day 22 Christmas Masterlist Main Masterlist AO3 Join my taglist

“Ho, Ho Ho! Merry Christmas!” Your father called out as he came through the front door dressed as Santa Claus.

“What the hell is that?” Draco asked in shock. Thanks to the chaos ‘Santa’s’ entrance caused, you were the only one who heard him.

“That’s my dad,” you told him.

“Obviously,” Draco said with an eye roll. “I meant what the hell is he doing?”

“He’s dressed as Santa, Draco,” you said slowly. Your tone of voice suggested you questioned your husband’s intelligence.

“Jesus, fuck,” he groaned. “I can see that. Why is he dressed as Santa?”

“It’s a tradition,” you explained. “My grandfather did it every year, and now my dad does it. The kids love it. We really thought it was Santa. It made the holidays so magical.”

“How could you possibly have thought that was Santa?” Draco laughed. “It is so clearly your father…we’re you all drunk or something?”

“Oh my god, no!” You gasped. “We were children, Draco. We wanted to believe, so we did. Didn’t you believe in the fantastical when you were little?”

“No,” he said simply. “There was no room for magic and imagination in my childhood.” Your heart clenched at the thought of little Draco and the dark, sad upbringing he endured. His gaze was fixed on Scorpius who was talking animatedly to ‘Santa’. Draco smiled slightly. “I’m glad we’re giving Scorpius the childhood he deserves.” You felt tears well in your eyes at your normally stoic husband’s confession.

“You’re a wonderful father, Draco,” you whispered. He nodded once in acknowledgement. You knew you wouldn’t get anything more from him at the moment. His emotions were too close to the surface, and he wouldn’t feel comfortable being vulnerable around your family. “Would you like to go tell Santa what you want for Christmas?”

“Why?” He asked.

“For little Draco,” you replied. His jaw clenched as he mulled it over. You waited patiently for him to sort out his feelings.

“Yes,” he finally decided. “Though there’s only one thing I want, and I’m not sure your dad is going to want to hear it.”

“What?” He didn’t reply but caressed your stomach. You smiled when you realized his meaning. “My dad loves his grandkids…so ask away.”

“Alright,” Draco agreed. You took him by the hand to lead him to Santa, and hopefully heal his inner child a little bit more.

Day 22

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