#MERRY FUCKIN' CHRISTMAS I GUESS

[snorpdawg]

The only tier list that matters

[bixels]

Jesus man, relax.

[startledpossum]

.

[oneforthemunny]

christmas (baby, please come home) |cowboy!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: it's not the most wonderful time of the year for everyone, including you and eddie.

apart of my munny's merriest that you can read here!

contains: angst. eddie is mean. past parental trauma. grief. holiday grief and sadness. angst really.

Heavy boots, covered with slush and snow from the frozen ground below, pounded up the creaking wooden porch. Eddie huffed, his breath clouding around him, a gloved hand reaching for the screen door. The toe of his work boots knocked against the doorway, kicking off the remainder of the snow from the icy, winter wonderland that arrived overnight, just in time for Christmas Eve. With it, came an icy chill that had Eddie working overtime to make sure the horses were warm. 

It was an odd feeling, walking into the mud room, plopping on the bench to pull off his boots. Eddie waited, inhaling in the cold, crisp air, waiting for the warmth to flood back to his system. That cozy heat to thaw out the chill that shocked his system, left his cheeks red and frost bitten from the cold. The euphoric feeling of relief that coated him every time he walked in from the snow. It never came. 

In fact, it felt colder in the house. 

In the house that was decorated, halls decked and every square inch covered with Christmas. The usual homey contentment that came from looking at the decorations was gone, replaced with a miserable, heavy feeling settled deep in the pit of his stomach, feeling him with a sickening guilt. 

Visions of your fight, hateful words piled on with yells and slamming doors, right there in the kitchen. A kitchen that should be filled with Burl Ives’ Christmas album on a loop was missing its merry music; it was missing you. 

“We always spend Christmas with my family.” 

“Yeah, exactly. It’s always about you, what you wanna fuckin’ do!” 

Eddie could see your face as if it was in front of him again. The way your expression fell, crumbling before him, the betrayal in your eyes rimmed with flecks of hurt. It made his stomach turn all over again. 

“You don’t- I thought you liked spending time with my family.” Your voice was small, far too small for your usual tone. “They always love spending time with you, Ed.” 

“Oh, yeah, to you they do.” He scoffed, eyes rolling so hard he gave himself a headache. He could feel it now. “You always leave me with your asshole uncle, who always wants to tell me the same goddamn story about how he used to ride horses growin’ up, like I give a shit-” 

“-Eddie! He’s trying to be nice and talk to you, so you’re not-” 

“-So I’m not miserable? Well, guess what, honey. I’m fuckin’ miserable!” His voice was so loud it shook the wooden cabinets of the kitchen, your tin snowmen rattling on top of the shelves. “I am fuckin’ miserable every Christmas! I would rather be here alone, shovelin’ shit all goddamn night and day than be there!” 

The hitch in your breath rang loud and clear in Eddie’s ear, his own face crumpling this time, a shaky hand rubbing across his eyes to try and keep his composure. But how could he? How could he stop the ache in his chest when he remembered the way you looked at him? The way your eyes filled with tears, lip quivering in fear. You hadn’t cried, not in there, atleast. Instead, you waited until you got to the bedroom, pulling out your own little overnight bag and filling it silently. 

He’d been so furious, so unfathomably filled with weeks of pent up rage, Eddie had to step out. Fury filled steps, a swinging fist to a post that left his knuckles bloody, splintering into the pale skin that was already blooming with bruises. Eddie really regretted it now, sure he’d broken a knuckle at the way it had swelled, doubled in size and kissed with dark purple, welt-like bruises. Oh, what he would do, what he would give, to have you fuss over it, patch it up and huff at him for doing something so immature. 

You didn’t. 

Instead, you stayed silent, save for the heart wrenching, hiccupy sniffle you gave when loading your bag into the trunk. Eddie’s body was still buzzing, electric with every ounce of bitter grief he’d tried to ignore. 

“Where you goin’?” Eddie gritted, tone sharp, it left you shuddering at the unfamiliar sharpness directed at you. 

“You want to shovel shit, since it’s so much better than being with my family.” Your breath stuttered in your chest when you took that breath. One that had Eddie’s heart lurching, nervous system flooding with a damning shock that left his head reeling in fear. 

“Better than being with me.” The crack in your voice matched the crack in Eddie’s own heart, splitting it right down the middle. 

“I don’t want to make you any more miserable than you already are.” You spat, and suddenly, Eddie longed for the sadness in your tone because the bitterness that replaced it was worse. 

Your own boots crunched on the ground, bare with snow and ice, but frozen from the cold. “Have a Merry Christmas by yourself, Eddie.” A hard yank of your car handle, and you were gone. 

Eddie watched you go in a horrified stare, your car disappearing down out of his sight in a red flash, feeling like he was watching a movie- a fucked up movie through his own eyes, but not in his own body. 

Then he was alone. 

Eddie was alone, standing on his family’s land, holding his throbbing hand alone. He was alone then. He was alone later that night, when he crawled into bed, teary eyes and shaking hands grabbing at your pillow, smothering himself with it because it smelled like you- terrified it might be the last time he could smell you. And he was alone now. Sitting in a too still kitchen, in a too quiet house, on Christmas Eve, alone. 

The burning threat of tears choked him, bubbling out of his chest and crept up his throat. Through blurred vision, Eddie could see the time. A little past four. He wondered what you were doing, what your family was doing. If your dad had started a card game yet. The same Rummy game he always made sure to deal Eddie in to- always made sure to include him. 

If your uncle was on his fourth or fifth glass of eggnog, spiking it with an extra pour of Woodford. He’d always offer Eddie some, slurring and spilling a little onto the festive tablecloth. Drunkenly tell him about his childhood, how he grew up riding horses, the same droning story that Eddie would always nod politely at. He was sloshed through the holidays, but never mean- always a jolly drunk, bellowing laughs through shining eyes. No smashing of plates or bruising grips like Eddie’s childhood Christmases always had. 

Or if your mom had got a chance to breathe, pull herself out of the kitchen with your aunts. She’d always hug him so warmly when she’d greet the two of you at the door, fussing over taking your bags and jackets, so happy the two of you were there. She’d even embroidered a stocking for Eddie last year, surprised him with it proudly. He’d nearly cried. 

It was a weird feeling. This feeling that he was becoming a part of your family. That they wanted him to be a part of it. 

He only had Wayne left, the rest of his family was long gone. It filled him with a grimy, gross feeling how much he enjoyed his time with your family. The sickening thought that he was betraying his own, replacing them and filling in their spots with shiny, new replicas. 

Wayne would laugh at him, tell him he should enjoy it, he better enjoy it. “You know Darlene and me go to Florida ev’ry Christmas, boy. You better stick it with ‘er. She’s a good’en.” 

Wayne would be furious at him if he knew. Probably take him ‘round back for the way he spoke to you, about your family. Eddie wouldn’t blame him, he was furious at himself for it. 

Eddie’s eyes found their way to the mantle, your stocking and his lined side by side. His was full, stuffed with small gifts and goodies you’d cheerily slip in, tongue clicking at him when he’d try to peek. Yours was deflated, sans for a small pair of cabin socks Eddie had got in early November. 

The bile in his throat brought him back to his very cruel reality in front of him. He’d been mean to you- he acted like his dad. 

Eddie’s stomach lurched, moving to the sink, a shaking hand pulling his hair back, retching into the sink at the revelation. Parallels of his mom and dad, his childhood, how his mom would decorate the house from top to bottom, make it nice and festive for Eddie. His dad would come in, tear it down, mock her for it in a drunken slur. She’d always buy him a gift, make sure Eddie’s stocking was filled with what she could: penny candies, knitted gloves, dented wacky packs from the discount store. Eddie would make her an ornament, his Mamaw Munson would get her a little gift, but never his dad. Her stocking was always empty. 

A choked sob caught in Eddie’s throat, vomit spewing into the shiny surface under him. Clammy forehead pressed to the cool countertop, he took a deep, shaky sob to try and keep the cry in. The mangled sob that shook his core, rattled his lungs, burned all the way from his stomach to his nose. 

Calloused hands wiped at his wet cheeks, chapped from the cold, giving a fierce sniffle. Eddie felt eight again, noticing for the first time the way his mother’s eyes dimmed, how she tried to hide it when she opened the empty stocking. She had been hopeful that there had been something in there, that this year his dad would remember her, be better. He never was. 

Eddie couldn’t be him, he wouldn’t be. He’d already reflected him in every way, too much for his own comfort lately- screaming at you, that rage that tore through him, bloody knuckles and aching throat that was leaving you in tears. 

As his shaking fingers turned the dial, cradling the phone to his ear, he hoped you would answer- that he could just get to you, talk to you. Your mother’s cheery voice rang over the phone instead, a happy roar of chatter mixed with music playing behind her voice. 

“Oh, Ed?” Your mother’s voice sounded concerned, he could practically see her frown, one you inherited. “Are you feeling better, hon? We miss you. I’m sending your stocking and gifts home- well, not the stocking, I’ll keep that but what’s inside.” 

You’d told them he was sick, covered for him- just like his mom used to do for his dad. The kindness in her tone nearly sent Eddie over the edge, pulling the receiver away to take a breath, to keep the sob from coming out. 

“Ed?” Your mom tried again. “Are you there?” 

“Y-Yeah, I’m sorry. I just… Is s-she around?” Eddie’s voice was tight with emotion, and he knew if he said your name, it would break whatever facade he’s mustered at the moment.

“Uh-huh, one second.” A staticy rustle filled the receiver, your name muffled and falling from your mom’s lips. 

Eddie didn’t realize he was holding his breath, until he released it, a desperate sigh of relief when you took the phone. “Hello?” 

“H-Hi, baby.” Eddie tried, hoping his voice was soft enough, gentler now- than the last time he talked to you. 

“Hi.” You bit, through gritted teeth, dragging the chord of the phone into the hall with you. “What do you want? I’m with my family.” 

His water line brimmed again, overflowing with angry tears. “Yeah, I know, honey. I’m sorry, I just,” Eddie took a deep breath, stuttering in his throat. “I’m sorry.” 

Your own lip wobbled, fresh with tears. You’d pulled into your parents drive the night before, eyes red rimmed from your cry, telling them something about the hay and your allergies. They’d believed you, pulled you in with a warm hug. It was nice, comforting at your home, surrounded by your family until you were asleep. A bed had never felt so cold.

 “I don’t-” You grit, trying to keep your own emotions in. “This is why you called me?” 

Eddie flinched at the venom in your own tone. “I am sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, baby, you don’t even kno-ow.” Eddie’s chest stuttered. “I didn’t mean any of that, I swear. I was- I’m just… I’m not doing great this year, baby.” 

Your heart jumped at the shake in his tone, the rawness of his words. “You really hurt my feelings, Ed.” You admitted, your voice smaller. “I don’t- I don’t know why you don’t like my family. They love you-” 

“-I don’t.” Eddie shook his head, fist balled around the phone. “I didn’t mean any of that. I love your family, I-I love you.” 

“So, you said all of that, why?” You scoffed lowly. 

Eddie’s knee bounced. He hadn’t expected you just to forgive him, but it was still hard- hard when you weren’t here, when you were away and hurt, and he was alone and miserable. 

Miserable, the single word in the world he wished to never say or hear again. 

“I…” Eddie’s hand threaded through his matted locks. “I don’t know. It’s weird. Not- no, no, no, not you or- fuck, that’s not what I meant.” Eddie rambled stupidly. 

“I feel weird about being with your family on Christmas because…I like it.” Eddie’s vision was blurred, watery with tears. “It’s just different from what I grew up with, and… and I don’t know, sometimes it’s just, it’s overwhelming, baby.” 

You stayed silent on the other end, the only sound signaling you were still on the line was the faint yells and mummers of your family, only making Eddie’s heart ache even more. “They’re all so nice, it-it makes me… I didn’t have that. My family didn’t have that, and-and every time I’m there it just makes me wish they did.” 

The both of you fell into a silence, one that was becoming far too common. Eddie’s heart hammered behind his ribcage. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. This- nothing is your fault, you know that? This is on me. I shouldn’t have ever talked to you like that, said that shit. I’d beat the dog walking shit out of anyone who said that shit about you, and then I say it? That’s just-” Eddie let out a humorless, watery laugh, fist pressed to his forehead in an attempt to extinguish that fury burning through his chest again. 

A cleansing breath later, Eddie’s head was in his hands. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, wobbly when he told you. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

“It’s… We can talk later, Eddie.” Your voice finally rang through, shaky and unsteady, clutching the phone like it was your life long. “Thank you for calling me. For telling me that.” 

The silence settled again, both of you unsure, scared to make the next move. 

“I, uh, I wish you were here.” You broke the silence this time. “My family keeps asking about you. They miss you, a lot.” 

“I miss you.” Eddie sniveled, wiping his running nose with the back of his hand. “I mean, I miss them too, but I just… I miss you a lot.” 

A pause, the slight clear of your throat. “I have to go.” You whispered, voice tight and Eddie knew you were close to tears. “I have to help my mom set the table, but… I’ll call you tonight.” 

“I love you.” Eddie blurted, sacred he might forget to say it with how his head was swimming. “I love you so fuckin’ much.” 

“I know.” Your voice was soft. It made Eddie’s stomach lurch all over again. 

The line droned in a steady beep after your receiver clicked. Eddie held the phone there, eyes shining dully with unshed tears in the lights of the strung decorations. A defeated slump in his shoulders. He didn’t feel any better, worse if anything. 

Eddie was surrounded by a deafening silence, the house too quiet. Too quiet to be Christmas. Too quiet without you. 

The soft glow from the barn pulled Eddie’s attention, the doors pulled to keep the heat in for the horses. He twisted the phone in his palms, turning it over in his hands gently before jabbing his fingers back into the dial. 

The line rang once, twice, nearly a third before it was answered. 

“Gare, hey, I’ve got a big ask…” 

“Honey,” Your mom’s eyes squinted, yellow rubber gloves dunked into the soapy warm water in front of her. “I thought you said Ed wasn’t coming.” 

You nearly dropped the plate you were drying, breath caught in your throat. “What?” You hissed, leaning to look out the small window over the sink. Sure enough, there in the dark, snow covered driveway was Eddie’s truck. 

“I-I didn’t think he was.” You shook your head, setting the plate down gently. “He said he wasn’t feeling well. I’m just- I’ll be right back.” Slipping on your boots, not bothering to lace them, you stepped outside into the frigid cold of the night. 

Eddie didn’t see you, back turned, grabbing armfulls of bags out of the back seat. “What are you doing here?” 

He jumped, nearly dropping your aunt’s present, eyes wide when he turned. “Shit, I-I…” Eddie’s tongue tied, jumbled and thick in his mouth. He didn’t expect to see you, standing there, in your little Christmas sweater that had his heart swelling. He wanted to kiss you, coo at you for being so cute, get you all blushy and giggle at his compliments. 

Your lifted brow, arms crossed over your chest protectively stopped him. “I wanted to give your family their gifts. I-I was just going to leave them on the porch and tell you when I called tonight.” 

Your foot twisted into the snow, eyes cast downward. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I did.” Eddie nodded firmly. “They’re not- It’s not great. The mall was closing early so I had to kinda rush, but, uh, I wanted to get them something.” He looked at you, eyes shining with emotion. “Wanted to get you something too.” 

Your stocking was hooked onto his left pointer finger, a crooked bend of the knitted fabric, hanging heavy and filled with tiny trinkets and things that ruffled. You looked at it carefully, face quipping just barely, but Eddie caught it. “I didn’t want you to think I forgot about you.” Eddie muttered lowly, breath showing under the glow of the lights. 

“Thank you.” You nodded, swallowing thickly around your words. “I can help you take them in.” 

“No,” Eddie shook his head. “I don’t want to… I know you don’t want to be with me right now, baby, and I get it. I’ll just drop them off-” 

“-Come inside.” You sighed, arms still tight around his chest. “My mom already saw you. It’s just easier for you to come in.” 

Eddie tried to hide the hurt he felt with a simple nod. “I don’t want to ruin your Christmas.” He muttered softly. “More than I already have.” 

“Eddie,” You sounded tired, words heavy with emotion, exhaustion maybe. “Come inside.” Your eyes lifted to his, so sweet, nearly pleading he was sure he might sob. “There’s still leftovers. I’ll heat them up for you.” 

So Eddie followed you inside, gifts under his arms, letting your family greet him warmly, chocking his red eyes and matching nose up to the hay fever he’d been having. Your mom fixed him a plate, poured you both a glass of mulled wine. 

In the tiny bed of your childhood room, the two of you talked in hushed voices, silent apologies traded over soft touches. 

“I didn’t mean it.” Eddie whispered, nose pushing into your neck. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” You nodded, and you did. Even if it still hurt, still wounded from the words, you knew that was true. 

Eddie’s cheek pressed against your shoulder, hands grabbing at you, pulling you closer and closer like at any moment you might disappear from his clutches. “My mom,” His voice cracked, eyes pinching shut. “She used to love Christmas.” 

“Really?” You hum, tone as even as it could be with the shock. Eddie never spoke about his mother. 

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “She, uh, she used to decorate every Thanksgiving. Pull out the tree after dinner, put it up. My dad,” Eddie swallowed around the bitter title. “He was always passed out by then, so she could do it pretty quickly. Get it up and ready before he’d wake up and bitch. It wasn’t a lot, a tree and some other stuff, but I’d always help her. She-She always let me put the angel on top.” 

You weren’t sure what to say, what you were supposed to say. Eddie’s mom was a sensitive spot. One he didn’t talk about much, at all, really. 

“She would really like your family.” Eddie’s voice was small, a rarity. Always the loud, rough and tough cowboy, commanding wild bucks all day. Small wasn’t in his vocabulary. 

“They would have really liked her.” You said slowly, vibrations from your voice tickling Eddie’s ear. 

Eddie knew it was true. He felt stupid, really, waves of horrible guilt crashing over him again as he clung tighter to you. Your family wasn’t the enemy, wasn’t one to try and replace his own family, just an extension. 

He meant what he said, that his Mama would like your family. He already knew she’d love you, simply because he did. He hoped it was true, that your family would’ve loved her. He knew deep down they would have, that they would welcome her with the same warmth that they gave him. 

That they’d always make sure her stocking was full on Christmas morning, because they always made sure his was. 

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐏𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

Sometimes even the hardest, most independent workers needed someone to lean on — whether they be of flesh and blood, or wool and stuffing.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ღ Nurse!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ღ 1.0k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ღ Fluff

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ღ This is for a very special Flower, who's support has been unconditional and oh so generous. Thank you for all you do for me, @sunlitsunflowers. 💛

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ღ @sweetspicybingo Sweetheart Bingo — Heart Of Gold —   Masterlist ღ @rookthorne's Merry Buckmas — Masterlist

𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The phone call seemed to drag on forever, and the more it stretched on, the more stressed Bucky became.

It was all you could do to not launch yourself from the couch to soothe him. You felt hopeless, put only there to watch while he paced the living room, the phone to his ear, his other hand on his hip — until he ran it through his loose hair and tugged at the ends with frustration. “So where–”

He winced after tugging absentmindedly, and he placed his hand on his hip again, away from his hair. “No, I know, I heard you, but you weren’t exactly clear–”

“Bucky,” you said quietly, and you waved your hand a little to catch his attention. 

“I– Wait, I’m doing what?” 

“Bucky,” you tried again, a little louder. Grey, stoney eyes met yours, and you gestured for him to come and sit next to you. “Come here, babe.”

The couch creaked with how hard he flopped down onto the cushions. 

“Right. Okay, so I’ll be floated to that ward–?” he asked, and he paused, evidently waiting for the person on the other side to answer. Then, “Yes, okay, fine. I’ll make sure–Yeah.”

Another long stretch of silence, then Bucky sighed. The screen of his phone darkened as he pulled it away from his ear, and he threw his head back against the back of the couch with a groan. 

“What happened?” you asked softly, grabbing his hand to squeeze it. “Baby?”

“I’m being moved to paeds for the day—for this shift, so far, at least,” he said. There was a slight frown on his lips. “I just fuckin’ wish they didn’t screw me around this much.”

You sighed and put your head on his shoulder, soothingly rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. Bucky loved working with kids, that was a fact you knew well — his cheerful and sweet demeanour worked wonders on the small patients. But the hospital administration was a whole other beast. 

“I know, Buck, I know.” A sombre silence filled and expanded in the room, a bubble soon fit to burst, when you froze. 

With the mention of the paediatric ward, you remembered something you’d been keeping hidden — even if you yourself forgot. All this time, you stowed away a surprise for a moment like this, and given it was close to Christmas, it truly was the perfect moment. 

In your bedside drawer laid a small stuffie, no bigger than your palm, of a baby otter holding tight to a pink star. And, blessedly, it was the perfect size to fit in his scrub shirt pocket — not only would it cheer Bucky up but you could only imagine the children’s smiles when they saw his little companion. 

To match the festive season, as was your nature, you excitedly bought a small, knitted Santa hat to go with the small critter. 

Your eyes wandered from your vantage point down Bucky’s taut body, the way the plains of his body radiated tension and sadness, a worn exhaustion. He was still in his lounge clothes, and his shift started soon — you formulated a plan. 

“Why don’t you go get dressed? I can pack you some of those cookies I baked—the tree ones with the icing. You can have them on your break,” you offered. 

Bucky sighed. “Okay, okay. I guess it won’t hurt to get ready early.” He kissed your forehead and you let out a hum of contentment, squeezing his hand. 

With over-exaggerated groans, the two of you rose from the couch and laughed at one another. You smiled privately while Bucky headed towards the bedroom to change — the carefree laughter he blessed you with never grew old, and you would do anything to hear it, that you knew. 

It was quick work placing a few of the cookies into a Tupperware container, and you placed it in his bag that was sitting on the counter — a small, tiny sticky note attached, reminding him of just how much you loved him. 

Soon after, Bucky strode into the kitchen, dressed in his favourite scrubs and his hair tied into a bun at the nape of his neck. His eyes lit up when he saw the container in his bag, and you smiled at him. “Wait here for me? I have to get something.”

“What–?”

“Just wait there for me,” you repeated, pointing at the kitchen over your shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

In your bedroom, you reached where the stuffie was hidden, and you took a deep breath. “He’ll love it,” you said over and over, a mantra. “He’s going to love it.” The soft, textured feeling of the otter’s fur was heavenly to touch. An adorable, knitted hat perched itself haphazardly over one of its ears. 

Decisively, you held it behind your back as you walked back out into the hallway, whispering a quiet, “He will love it.”

Bucky was waiting in the kitchen as you asked of him — the side of his hip resting against the counter, while his arms were crossed over his chest. “Now what have you got there, Sugar?” He narrowed his eyes with playful suspicion.

“Hey, you.” Your feet carried you over to him, and you came to a stop right in front of him; he stared into your face curiously. 

“I, uh– Well, I have been saving this for a little while, and I figured this was as good as ever to give it to you—you might need it. But,” you said, pulling the stuffie from behind your back. “I thought they could bring you, and the kids some much needed love today. And I made sure to get one that would fit in your scrub pocket with all of your pens.”

“Oh, wow,” he breathed, his gaze fixated on the soft fur of the stuffie; on the hat and the star it held tightly to its chest. “Oh– Sugar, baby, they’re perfect.” Tears welled in his eyes, and he forewent grabbing the offered companion in favour of pulling you into his chest — a crushing hug that stole your breath but soothed your soul. 

If, later that day, while Bucky was at work and you were sent a selfie of him holding the little otter under his chin, it was nobody’s business if it was made your phone screen wallpaper.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭|𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[elegantmusicdragon]

Adventures in Bravo-Sitting

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Babysitter!Reader (f!Reader probably? Can be gn!Reader for now)

Rating/Warning: Just some language! Words that rhyme with certain swears. Me being a menace. You know how it goes.

A/N: Okay so this is for @blueeyesatnight who just went a on a Dieter/Babysitter journey with me and inspired me to crank this fic out in two days. Haven't written a fucking thing except a fic I won't post and THIS. Blue, you're the best and Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas (if you celebrate) and thank you so much for the inspo! Our Dieter/Babysitter thread is my favorite thing and also if you wanna write some of these two or your own version PLEASE DO IT. I encourage it! Much love to you.

To anyone else who may read this: thanks for sticking around and checking this not beta'd dumpster fire. I have no clue what this is. It came out of my brain and onto the page in a frenzy. But it's fine. I'm fine. Everything's fine. Enjoy! And Happy Holidays!

You are terribly confused. 

"We know this is highly unconventional." 

Well, that's putting it mildly. 

"In all honesty, I've seen weirder." A nightmare child smearing his feces all over the baking appliances and a cake his mother had made takes the trophy as of now. Though this situation is a close second. 

The woman, Amanda, smiles at you - relief flooding her features. She readjusts herself on the ridiculously fancy chair she's sitting on. Behind her, a small cluster of people in suits and business skirts gather. And between Amanda and the group? A man. Well, not man. Celebrity. A celebrity who seems to be grumbling something close to the words “ducking shooshes”.  

You never thought you'd end up babysitting Dieter Bravo but, you guess, things could be weirder. 

"Can I just...ask...um...why does a grown man need a babysitter?"

Dieter rolls his eyes and cuts in, "I don't." 

Amanda talks over him, "I'm sure you've seen the...incidents...on the Cliff Beasts set." 

You nod. "Absolutely, who hasn't? A drug overdose, quickie marriage, annulment - all within the span of a year. And the giant bender in Vegas with the showgirl last month? It's been all over the news." 

Amanda nods, tension lining her face. Behind her, Dieter rolls his eyes again. 

"It wasn't that bad." 

Amanda finally graces Dieter with an irritated glance. Her voice raises slightly, “Not that bad, Dee?? You almost destroyed the MGM Grand’s lobby, casino, and the penthouse suite you were staying in! That showgirl almost lost an eye!” 

Dieter rolls his neck back to face the ceiling, “Yeah, but she didn’t. She was fun,” he chuckles. “Liked to party. We still got her number?”

You see a vein throb in Amanda’s forehead. You’re not quite sure if you should butt into their conversation. Amanda grips the planner she holds so tightly, her knuckles begin to turn white. 

“No, Dee. We don’t have her number. You know, since she ALMOST LOST AN EYE??” 

Dieter sighs. “Oh my god, she was fine. It was safe. I was totally able to handle that machete. That lobby guy was just scared.” 

You raise an eyebrow. 

Amanda fires back, “He was the manager!!! And you were swinging a machete at one of his showgirls!” 

“I wasn’t gonna hurt her, god it’s like you think I’m irresponsible or something.” 

Oh god what have you gotten yourself into???

You reach down and attempt to subtly get your belongings. You’ve decided you want no part in…whatever this is. To your utter disappointment, you’re apparently not subtle enough. Amanda’s eyes dart to where your hand is resting on the strap of your bag. Her eyes widen just a fraction in desperation. 

“I know we’re not giving the best impression here. But I promise, this is going to be a very rewarding experience. Dieter is special!” 

She had said that on the phone too, but it was your fault you had misinterpreted it. Dieter clearly is special just…not in the way you were expecting. He’s special in a super-fuckin-entitled-wealthy way. 

You swallow and your eyes dart to Dieter, who hasn’t looked at you once since this whole meet and greet started. 

“Listen, Amanda, I’m really flattered that you and your…” You peter off, realizing the entire group of people behind her are now listening to you basically say no to this insane job. Are they really surprised you’re not interested in this? 

You clear your throat and continue, “team…want me to do this. I just don’t quite think I’m what you’re looking for.” 

Amanda looks behind her at a gentleman in a neatly pressed suit. He leans forward and whispers something in her ear. She nods, and turns back to you. Dieter remains absorbed in the ceiling. 

“Alright,” Amanda starts, “how about I show you what your pay would look like and we’ll take it from there? Maybe we could do a trial run if the amount is to your liking?” 

Dieter snorts. “It’ll be to her liking, I’m loaded.” 

Amanda rolls her eyes. Despite that, she keeps her focus on you. “Well?” She asks. 

You sigh. You know you’re caught between a rock and hard place. Money? Or no money? Well, even if this job isn’t what you necessarily thought it would be, it couldn’t hurt to look at the amount. Why the hell not? 

You shrug. “Sure,” you reply back to Amanda. “I guess looking at the number can’t hurt.” 

She smiles and nods, turning to confer with the gentleman behind her again. They whisper to each other for a few minutes before Amanda turns back to you. 

“Okay! I just want to clarify that we’ll be starting with a trial run of a week. If just you, or both you and Dieter-” 

He snorts at his name. Amanda studiously ignores him and continues on. 

“Are interested in keeping this arrangement going, we’ll re-discuss and go from there. Is that amenable to you?”

You nod. “Sounds good to me.” 

Amanda smiles widely, looking truly relieved for the first time since you stepped into the room. 

“Great!” She replies. She reaches behind her to grab a small piece of paper from the suited gentleman (who is he???) and hands it over to you. You surreptitiously glance over at Dieter. For the first time, you find his eyes on you. You shiver slightly. His eyes sparkle with…something. 

You look back down at the folded piece of paper in your hands. You’re more nervous than you thought you’d be. You open it slightly and see the number written down.

WOW that’s a LOT of zeroes! Holy crap. 

You look at Amanda.

“Trial run it is.” 

P.S. Banners by @firefly-graphics

Tags:

@grampsgirl14

@apsiringghostmusicians

Anyone else want a tag? Lemme know!

[soukokumychildren]

A little Christmas Special

(Part two comes tomorrow ;) Stay tuned~)

It was a snowy day out in Yokohama, bright and beautiful and silent, frozen crystal flakes flitting from the smooth fluffy white clouds above. Trees were decorated with ornaments from angels to musical instruments and brought to litter all around town, garlands with pine cones and red bows were hung around nearly every lamppost. Children were in fierce snowball fights and creating snowmen all around town, parents watching from afar and conversing with one another whilst they played.

It was Christmas Eve, and the Armed Detective Agency was decorated as much as it could physically handle, everyone even dressed for the occasion in a variety of Christmas Sweaters (most however, we’re ugly Christmas sweaters, but we’re warm all the same). Everyone had given their coworkers presents set on their desks for each individual in mind to take home for the day off tomorrow, everyone receiving a present, and few, who were eager, shook the box with their ears near. All except two vacant desks with presents stacked, which the staff of the Agency collectively awaited for Soukoku to make an appearance, as the atmosphere would be jollier with their presence. Of course, by the mere thought— BAM.

Kunikida and Atsushi turned first, exchanging glances, nodding in unison of understanding—They arrived. Not even a moment later, Chuuya ran in, using his ability to throw gifts at literally everyone that stood up. “MERRY FUCKIN’ CHRISTMAS EVE!” The redhead hollered, spreading his wings upward as much as he could excitedly. Atsushi tumbled over with the gift plummeting into his face, while Kunikida sat there as it slowly slid into his bent arms. Yosano peeled hers off her shoulders and Kenji had to catch his, considering he was too short for the initial blow to catch him. Ranpo nearly lost his through the window, but managed to snatch it by the bow before it could go further. Kyoka, however, did not move at all, and willed Demon Snow into existence to catch it for her instead. “Merry Christmas,” she said dully, but with a smile, since that was merely her usual tone. “I didn’t expect to get to get a present from you too.” “It’s the season of giving Kyoka, and we have a lot of money to waste. Get used to it.” Chuuya said, crossing his arms as he made his way to his desk, dropping the other gifts to the staff that weren’t present currently on his desk. Dazai followed with a snort. “Merry Christmas Eve to all of you as well,” he greeted, training his eyes on the excited redhead, who maneuvered the Christmas hat on his head out of his face.

“Thanks for nearly killing everyone,” Ranpo said nonchalantly, shaking his gift and quickly announcing: “It has to be a new game. Is it? Oh I wonder whichhh—“ Chuuya quickly interrupted when he caught on. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ put your glasses on, I will throw them out the window—” “NOOOOOHHH!” Ranpo quickly ran away and accidentally discarding his glasses to the floor while retreating into a nearby room, drawing a few giggles from some of his coworkers. “I better hope it’s wine,” Yosano spoke richly, lifting the bag by its handles, studying the glittering red surface. “Guess you’ll find out tomorrow.” Chuuya said with a shrug, checking how many gifts he had with a little sway of his shoulders. Kyoka made small noises as she glanced at her boxes wistfully. “Wow, even I got gifts?” Dazai asked, delicately lifting wrapping paper to try and peek in one of them before getting promptly slapped in the wrist. “No peeking. I said you can open one gift when we get home but you’re gonna have to wait,” Chuuya huffed. At the same time, Kunikida sighed. “Yes, even someone the likes of you can get a present.” He spoke directly to Dazai, who unfurled a brilliant grin. “Let me guess, yours is some specific schedule designed for me to be everywhere at a certain time for your perfect schedule?” He was quick to avoid a swipe to the head with rolled up newspaper. “Quit it, guys. Hey, where’s Atsushi, by the way?”

Kunikida tilted his head to the ground just as soon as Kenji piped up: “Oh, he’s lying on the floor! I D’nno if he’s taking a nap, though.” “A nap?” Kyoka asked, walking around the desks to stare down at Atsushi, crouching and poking his face.

“…Ah, just leave him there,” waved off Dazai, taking Chuuya’s hand. “Besides, didn’t you want to round up everyone to go to the shopping district?” “Ya mean the downtown mall, right?” Chuuya asked, tucking his wings so he could see Dazai behind them. “Yeah, and didn’t you say they had a ska—“ Chuuya slammed both hands over Dazai’s mouth. “Shush! We ain’t spoilin’ nothin! Kenji,” Chuuya added, twisting his head to capture the farm boy’s attention. “Can ya get the President and the Tanizaki twins? We’re heading out.” “All of us?” Yosano asked, raising a brow, to which Kunikida lifted his glasses, about to go on a full rant about how they all had work to do— “All of us.” The redhead agreed.

“Get the shit that’s necessary and let’s fuckin’ go, or stores will close early, and it’ll get too dark to see bull walkin’ back. And get Atsushi up off the floor, someone drag him with.” “I can do that!” Kenji chirped, before sliding into the hallway to the President’s office. Dazai snorted. “So demanding~” He cooed, wrapping his arms around the redheads neck, since his waist was too low to reach for the lazy brunette (he of course, had priorities, and liked to continue to pick on Chuuya from time to time). Just as Chuuya was about to defend himself, someone appeared next to them. “Can I get candy?” Ranpo asked as he sidled up next to Dazai, who slid a bit to his right to allow Chuuya to gaze up to him. “The hell? I just said get the shit you need and let’s go, and I think I mentioned stores will close, what gave you the impression that I’m forbidding you from purchasing your own stuff?” Ranpo stared.

“…I was half listening.” He admitted, with hardly an ounce of guilt, a candy cane stuffed in his mouth and muffling him. Dazai held in a laugh as Kyoka tugged Ranpo. “I got a small allowance for some candy shopping…we can share it later. Or I can get you what you like, maybe…” The man’s eyes gleamed. Eventually Soukoku got everyone rounded up and out the several flights of stairs and the door, soon traveling to the mall on foot (with of course the bustle of sidewalk traffic and stoplights). Along with shuffling in the snow it was chaos, but it was fun regardless. When they got there it was slightly dimmer out, but not by much.

Instantly the ADA members parted, Yosano intent on finding clothes, Kunikida mentioning about a coffee to repel his headache that was beginning to work up his head, Kenji joining Atsushi and Kyoka to go to the toy shop, and the Tanizaki siblings cuddling close to find a bench somewhere to watch the scenery unfold. Fukuzawa was dragged like a cat that had no will of its own to take a bath by Ranpo who disappeared with him, more than likely to the candy shop.

Chuuya and Dazai were left alone momentarily. A beat of lovely silence enveloped them as the redhead turned to lean into his man. “Shall we enjoy time alone?” Chuuya sighed, batting his eyelashes and relaxing into Dazai, who grinned down at him. “We have time before we bring everyone to the special surprise, so we can walk around for a bit.” “Mmm…I’m in the mood for hot chocolate, what do you say?” Chuuya asked, bringing up his ear feathers with a sly grin (and flinching to the sound, of course). “Something tells me it won’t only be hot chocolate.” Dazai said, tucking the redheads feathers away, mimicking Chuuya as he pulled the two to a coffee shop, more than likely where Kunikida vanished to.

They order hot chocolate with whipped cream and some seasonal sprinkles along with two gingerbread cookies. Why yes, they ignored Kunikida’s skeptical glare from behind while he seated himself cozily against a wooden stool, drink in hand. When their order was paid for, they quickly scuttled out of the place before they were going to be bothered by the man any more than they already have been. After finishing the cookies (along with some playful, suggestive glances, of course), and sharing the hot coco and discarding its contents once the liquid was drained, the two continued on walking around the plaza, kids running past and giggling madly, a frenzy of snow balls flying this way and that. Chuuya had to tug Dazai out of the way a few times, his face unmoving as he took the man to the sidewalk to stick to stores glittering with all sorts of warm feeling Christmas decorations. After a while, Chuuya, unbearably achy in his wings despite being outside and in all of the joyful, beautiful snow, continuously rubbed his back to sooth his wings. However, Dazai having seen this, dragged Chuuya to a crevice in between buildings, lodging Chuuya into it and maneuvering his arms under Chuuya's garments. "D-Dazai, not in public you--" "Quiet. Just take this." Dazai massaged Chuuya's wings until the redhead looked like he was ready to melt, sighing in relief. "C'mon…let's go, the others are waiting." The redhead murmured, eyes hazy as he looked up to Dazai, pretty much unable to fully seperate himself from the man, since he was literally shoved into a corner. "They aren't until we call them, Winglet," Dazai corrected, whispering into Chuuya's ear, making the redhead jump, and the feathers across his neck flare up and fluff. "…You're too in your head for my liking," Chuuya murmured, eyeing Dazai as he withdrew a bit. "Hmmm?" Was all Dazai could get out before he was yanked into a kiss. A fast one, but delicious, none-the-less, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, but not hard enough to pierce or bruise. Desperate enough to draw soft moans from Chuuya. Possessive Dazai began to take over, about to devour the man infront of him whole--- "…Dazai?" But they were met with a predicament. Specifically, a certain Weretiger, covering Kyoka and Kenji's eyes.

[jolliestlolli]

In the past I've jokingly made fun of people who subscribe to the whole "Hoshi is asexual" headcanon but this has been living rent free in my mind for too long so I guess you can officially consider me a hypocrite, merry fuckin Christmas.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Threads

Summary: Loki, sitting on his throne of time struggles with the temptation of looking back at what he could have had and what he had discarded in his youth.

Merry Christmas? Look, I'm sorry- This is a gateway to something that may or may not become a series- idk. I'm fuckin tired.

Warnings: None? A bit angsty I guess.

Threads

Loki sat in a sea of green threads in the vast nothing. Time stretched out all around him, a ocean of emptiness that contained everything. There was nothing but silence and yet if he closed his eyes, he could hear everything. 

He didn’t have to stay here but there was no where else he belonged. His own timeline had been destroyed before he had made it here. There was nothing to go back to.

Reaching out, he plucked a string from the air. It wasn’t the first time he had done so and it surely wouldn’t be the last time. This thread he looked at often because she was in it. 

It had been centuries since he had thought about her and then, when everything stopped, he didn’t have anything else to think about but her. 

Long ago, when he was young he had cared for a woman with hair the color of the embers of a forgotten fire and a smile that was brighter than the sun. He had cared for her with all the fire of a raging inferno and that terrified him. 

He was young then, they both were. They had an entanglement that had lasted for what felt too long at the time. He was a prince and she was a blacksmith’s daughter. He should have never cared for her but he did. 

Looking down the thread, he could see a version of him laying on a bed of hay with her tucked against his chest. The Loki he was looking at was so much younger than the man he was now. 

This Loki would make the same mistakes he had, Loki had watched this story play out time and time again. Still, he couldn’t help but to gaze at the lovers in the thread passing a forbidden night after making love all evening. 

Letting the thread slip through his fingers, the lovers were replaced by her broken heart as she screamed her rage for the world to hear. He had done that to her. The Loki standing before her in the thread was cool and collected. 

Loki knew that her scream had cut his heart like no blade would ever again. She would never find out that he broke her heart not out of selfishness but to protect her. Sitting on his throne in a sea of threads, Loki couldn’t begin to justify why he hadn’t told her. 

Instead he just ripped her heart out and spat on the shattered remains. And for what? Because he was scared? Because she wasn’t fit for court life?

He told her that he didn’t care about her, that it was a game to him but that was a lie. He did care. He cared so damn much.

More thread passed through his fingers. How often had he done this? Time moved differently here, outside the threads of time themselves. 

Now he saw her standing in a gown and furs. A man who was not him stood in front of her and their hands were joined. This was the part of the timeline that hurt him the most, yet he always returned to it. 

She had waited for him, tried to change his mind for some time and he had spent years of their youth acting indifferent to her. Only once he had gone from Asgard did she move on, ever so slowly. 

But he still cared for her. He still fucking cared so goddamn much that every time he watched her marry another man was a stab in the heart. He had nothing else to do however, but pick at ever wound that had scabbed over and begun to heal. 

Letting go of the thread, he watched as it floated back into place like he had done many times before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tag list: *I nuked my tag lists since I've been gone for years. Starting fresh, let me know if you want on this flaming dumpster ride.

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 141. brb x oc

a/n: I had a good time with my dad...it was good to take this break. Thank you for everyone who messaged me and checked on me, really, you guys are incredible and I couldn't thank you guys enough. Kinda short because of shitty connection but I hope you guys like it. Smut coming soon(reblogs and comments are super encouraged <3)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

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(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

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-

“So this is your school.”

“...it was.”

He sounded disappointed, with reason considering his high school looked…nothing like he remembered. He holds onto the front gates with his brows low, eyes moving at every corner he could find, hoping to see something that was similar to his brain, something that could wrack his memory. “They removed the old gym,” he mutters, pressing his face harder against the iron bars and squinting under the gentle falling now “And built it so much farther from the school building. Look,” he couldn’t even put his arm through the bars to show it to Beatrice but his wife approached him with Nicole nonetheless.

“That…gray building was your gymnasium?”

“It was rich green back then,” he mutters “They painted for St.Patrick’s day in 1956 and never changed it…until now I guess…at least the tree is still there and they added a pathwalk around it.”

“It wasn’t there before?”

“No, it was just fuckin’ hard earth.” he chuckles as he reminisces, “And some grass that looked like someone just spat it on the ground…” he walks to the left a bit, trying to see more of the glass doors that were covered with cards and ‘Merry Christmas’ signs on it…alongside a large vinyl illustration that Beatrice had to squint her eyes to see better.

“Is that a bobcat?”

“Yeah, we used to call him Bob but I’m sure that wasn’t his name.” he frowns more, “They gave him a goatee, that’s terrible.”

Beatrice felt a bit bad because of Rooster’s constant disappointment in showing her about his past, when in reality it was actually really fun. Their schools weren’t that different, except, well, hers didn’t have a tree…and the gym wasn’t that big…and of course the school building had two floors and the basement of her school was haunted but it was still good! She approached her husband, keeping Nicole wrapped inside her jacket and smiled up at him, “You are pouting.” she giggles, seeing that he immediately pouted more, “Roos, things change, I mean, it’s been over ten years since you’ve been here,right?”

“I mean,yeah.”

“It’s okay honey,” she kisses his covered shoulder, then his jawline, “I still like your school…did you have fun here?”

“I did.” he pauses, “A little.I got in a lot of trouble here too. I fought,” he sputters, “I don’t know, half of the bullies? No one bothered me once I started working out. I know most of my teachers hated that I did that…’You are good boy Bradley’ ‘Don’t let your anger control you,Bradley’, my mom was called to school too often.”

“You mentioned that.”

“She did get mad.” he mumbles, eyelids lowering, “You know? She’d get mad at me, she’d scold me and we’d fight for a few seconds then we’d make up with ice cream or she’d take me to the movies…we never got really angry at each other for too long.” until that day after he was refused entry in the Navy. “...anyway, let’s move on.”

“Where to?”

“I can’t show you the inside because, well, it’s closed…I dunno if they’d even let me do it.” he murmurs, holding the bars tighter then pushing himself away with a light impulse, “We can take a walk around the park I used to go, but-” he looks up with a frown, “Maybe we should go back to the cabin, we spent a good chunk of time outside.”

Beatrice follows his gaze to see the clouds were getting darker and darker, meaning they’d better go back or else they’d be stuck in this area and wouldn’t be able to return. Nicole, who was just having a blast, bounced on Beatrice’s arms as they walked back to the car, making her father smile towards her once he opened the back door so Bea could latch her in, “I swear, she has so much energy for a six months old.”

“She does,” Nicole’s cute little ‘mama!’ when Beatrice kissed her and placed her on the seat made her mother laugh, “My mother said that if she’s like this now it means the terrible twos won’t be so bad.”

“Really?”

“Well,” she pushes the door closed,”She said the same about Sabrina and she set my nonna’s curtain on fire when she was one and a half.” she blinks at him, “And she was considered a ‘calm’ baby.”

Rooster didn’t know if he should be worried or surprised, then he chose to turn the subject towards Bea, “But you were a calm baby.”

“I was.”

“Did you ever set anything on fire?”

“No,” she giggles, “But I used to bring insects into the house, I especially loved ladybugs.” she heard him whisper a ‘of course you would’. “And…maybe I brought some birds, some…cats and dogs I found on the street, abandoned…the cats never stayed ‘cause Leo is allergic, but the dogs? The dogs did.”

Rooster chuckles, his chest moving for a brief second, “You’d do that, you are just a Disney princess in real life.” her cheeks immediately turn red, “Every day I think you’ll wake up singing and the birds will help you get ready.” he wiggles his fingers, the gloves creaking when he does so, “Like Cinderella–wait, no, Cinderella has a shitty family life…who’s the best one? Oh,I know, Belle.”

“Belle?”

“I had a crush on Belle.” he smirks, “What can I say? Brunettes are my one,” he steps closer, “And only,” his arms wrap around her waist and hers go around his neck, “Weakness…and if their names start with ‘B’?” he whistles lowly, “Don’t even get me started.”

Beatrice smiles at him even more, cupping his cheeks with her gloved hands and bringing their lips together in a repetitive flurry of kisses that left the two blushing harder, a mix of their own teenage like feelings and the cold, ‘We better get out of her before it gets too cold to move,Roos.”

“I agree…one more kiss tho.” he does kiss her one final time, loving how her cherry chapstick left its taste on his lips when he licked them, “Alright, atta girl.” he swats her ass cheek as she turns around, opening the passenger door for her and waiting until she was inside fully.

Bradley entered the car a few minutes before the snow intensified so he wasted no time  stalling, driving off from his school towards the cabin. It was quite a trek to go there, but it was fine, the snow was only getting stronger behind them so it was easy to reach the cabin without worries.

Well, of course it was much better to stay inside once the snow landed heavily on the roof and the outside turned one singular color instead of the different shades they were seeing before. Beatrice held Nicole to her chest, their daughter laughing happily when she saw the snow piling on the window, stretching her little arm towards the glass as if she wanted to touch it “Wow, good thing we left,Roos, look.”

“Yeah, it’s going to be bad,” he murmured,”The weather app said it’s a red alert for this region.”

Beatrice turned around with her eyes wide, panic in her green irises, “Wait, really?”

“Yep, but don’t worry,we’ll be okay. It won’t be as bad as the first time we got here.”

“Okay-” she was about to say more but she felt her phone buzzing in her pocket, pulling it out one handed to check who it was “...oh it’s Evelyn.”

“Yea?” he calls from the kitchen, ripping a cocoa packet open as soon as he poured the hot milk in his mug, “What does she want?”

Privacy, Beatrice thinks,”Just to talk…can you stay with Nikki for a bit?” he stops what he was doing and Bea has to chuckle at his boyish grin when he walks over to the two, picking Nicole from her arms and kissing her cheek over and over, “I’ll be right back.”

“Alright,” he didn’t want to pry but Beatrice left the living room area in a hurry, locking the door behind her once she reached the master bedroom, leaving her husband looking in the direction she disappeared into with a frown on his face.

Beatrice licked her lips once she was alone, then frowned, “Weird.” two missed calls…wasn’t it around seven in the morning in California? Beatrice blinked, then shook her head before pressing Evelyn’s name, almost jumping in surprise when her friend picked in the very first ring, ‘...Ev?’ she asks after a few minutes of silence.

“...hi,sorry for bothering you guys during your holiday week.”

“Um no, no it’s okay. What happened?”

Another pause, longer this time, “...I just wanted someone to talk to.” she whispered, “I’m in Jake’s family home in Texas.”

“Oh I didn’t know you were uh…traveling.”

“Me either.”

“...are you okay?”

Beatrice hears her friend sigh, then her feet walking around the room, “...I…I got kinda sick these past days, while we were here.” she explains, “And so I went to the doctor, a family friend of Jake’s…to…check.” Beatrice felt a cold claw coming up in her stomach, the fear palpable, “And see if the Pumpkin is okay.”

“...and?”

“He is okay.”

Beatrice sighed out in relief, almost falling on the floor but managing to do so by sitting on the bed, falling onto the mattress as she rubbed her forehead, “Oh thank God.” she whispered, “I’m so happy to hear that,Ev.”

“...Yeah.Me too…it was really fucking scary,Bea.” she says softly, “I thought–it was scary. The doctor told me it was normal, nothing to worry about, that it was because of the plane and the jetlag and whatnot…he said if it were twins it’d be much worse.”

Beatrice’s eyes snapped open, her body rigid, ‘...what?”

“Yeah, if it was twins and I was feeling like this,he said it’d be worse. I didn’t want him to elaborate as you know I wasn’t really in the mood to do it. It was just a random comment, nothing more.” but that made something within Beatrice panic. What does that mean? What sort of thing was she feeling? Should she be worried? What was she going to do? 

‘But…um…what exactly were you feeling?” what should she look for on the trip back?

“Just really heavy nausea, some headaches.My body hurt too, that was all I was feeling.”

“Ah…I see.”

Both of them remained silent for a second, then she hears Evelyn walk around again, “...Bea.”

“Yeah?”

“You got quiet.”

I’m worrying about the little beans inside of me so there’s a reason I’m worried but I don’t want you to worry “It’s nothing,Ev. I’m just…well,it’s scary. I didn’t know that it could happen.”

“The doctor said stress also fucks you up so…that could be why? I’ve been really tired ever since my parents found out about it.”

“Oh…I’m sorry Ev.”

“Oh it’s okay…I’m okay now.Jake’s mom is making me uh…I don’t know, something that smells nice and I didn’t want Jake to worry and I couldn’t call Shells because you know how she’d get.”

“Haha,yeah.” but her laugh sounds so nervous, she really didn’t need that right now…stress…stress causes a lot of things. So what should she do? What could she do? Maybe she should stay…quiet inside the room and not move at all- even if she planned things this week, hell even if Rooster had things planned- no, no she shouldn’t let the paranoia take over her especially since it’d be a good week…

Maybe she should tell Rooster later, he’d understand…right? Yeah, of course.

“Anyway,I’m sorry Bea…for the sudden call and message.”

“It’s totally okay,Ev.”

“...can I ask you something,though?”

“Sure,anything.”

“Do you think you can call your aunt? The witch lady?”

“...sure? Why?”

‘Just so maybe she can give me some tips on how to not freak out so much during my pregnancy,” she laughs “You know,I’m glad you already had Nikki, it’s a terrible feeling to have when you are pregnant, it really is.” she didn’t hear Beatrice’s hard swallow, “Anyway.I’m going to go now,I’ll talk to you soon okay?”

“Y-Yeah,sure! S-See you!” they end the call and Beatrice stays seated on the bed, mind running miles per minute before she sighs,rubbing her face with both hands, looking down at her phone for a few seconds…Only for then decide that maybe she should call her aunt now.

[countlessrealities]

Any of the muses have Christmas plans? :DD

Unprompted asks || Always accepting !

"G-General verse? S-Same shit we do every year. J-Jerry playing housewife, h-his parents and their boyfriend coming over, w-we all pretending to be great and merry...A-All that stuff. I-I'm way fuckin' more excited for the other continuities. O-Or well, some of them."

His expression softens a little. "W-With Rick, we do the same family stuff, b-but with both families and...h-he just makes everything better. I-I actually like that Christmas shit, w-with him there." Because his counterpart makes him happy, no matter what. "T-Then I guess the two of us will have shared guest i-in some verses. Fish...d-damn, that is going to be fuckin' awkward...an-and, uh, Clarissa. T-That one is gonna be fuckin' tense...u-unless we do a Chance version an-and shit, now that would be a nice one. An-And then there's my and Morty's local Grinch, Petal." A snort. "S-She's gonna bring all the booze 'c-cause she fuckin' hates Christmas. T-Too bad for her, b-but good for me."

"W-What will be real fuckin' annoying is tha-that I'll have to put up with M-Morty's goddamn crushes. T-The other Fish isn't too bad, b-but why the fuck did he have to go an-and date his boyfriend's girlfriend too? G-Geez."

"Uh, R-Rick sort of summed up stuff for me too. I-I'm not looking forward to, y-you know, seeing the Ricks being on eggshells b-because of...their Clarissa situation. I-I hope Summer and I can help, w-with Fish too. T-They are both really cool an-and I hope they can have a good day with you, y-you know? A-Also, no matter what Rick says, P-Petal can be fun on Christmas too. I-I mean, her rambling about why s-she doesn't like it, i-it always make me laugh."

His grin widens a little and he glances down, pulling at the hem of his shirt. "B-But what I-I'm really looking forward to is, uh, Christmas with both families, b-because FM and I will spend it together an-and...last year was important, f-for us both. E-Even if not as much as New Year's!" Their anniversary. "Oh, an-and we got to have Meg with us both too this year, an-and I think that will be even nicer! I-I wonder if she'll come over early t-to help our Dads cooking...

"I-I kind of want to invite Bishop over too, s-since, uh, well, he's still learning about human stuff, b-but Rick won't let me. H-He says that if he comes, t-then we'll have all the others crashing our party too. M-Maybe he'll let Fish...the other one, my...friend...come over for a while?" He really hopes so.

"Not much to add to all that, aside that I'm so going to, like, enjoy seeing my grandpas squirming around both Fish and Clarissa. But yeah, Morty is right, I'll also try to make things smoother for the two of them. They are too rad to have a bad Christmas. The Ricks can suck it up."

Her lips quirk in little mischievous smile. "But I'm so gonna sneak out to hang out with Jinx in that one verse. And maybe I'll ask Salomé if her family lets me go over to their house for Christmas this year. Not that I want to go, because it's gonna be, like, awful, but at least she won't have to face it alone."

"No particular plans. I was never one to celebrate the holidays. I have a couple public appearances to make, as President, but for the rest I personally won't organise anything."

A pause. "Aside from meeting up with other me, of course. Us spending these times together is becoming a bit of a tradition." The briefest smile touches his face, but it's quickly gone as he shrugs. "And I guess that if Meg organises one of her dumb parties, I'll attend that too. For a while. She's still avoiding me, so I can't give her the satisfaction of not having to put up with my presence."

"I-In most of the main continuities, I'm with Morty, so I'll do whatever he does. So I assume that I'll spend the holidays with him, other Morty, their pet girl and E-Rick."

"A-As for the other reality, my partner has a liking for festivities, for reasons I don't understand, s-so I'll celebrate with him. It's what pleases him, and I don't mind it anyway. It's fascinating to see him getting all excited about clichéd Christmas traditions."

"F-For how I see it, C-Christmas is just an excuse to get fucked up on eggnog. B-But I guess that the Citadel had some decent shit organised w-with the new President, so...M-Maybe SR can convince me to go out with him an-and Morty. I-I bet the little shit wants to go i-ice skating or to see the stands an-and all that stuff."

"An-And of course I have plans to go and bother the Commander." A sly smirk opens on his face. "I-I fuckin' bet he'll be working, s-so he needs someone to make sure he'll take a little fun break."

"I-It sounds like someone has my Christmas figured out already. B-But that's fine, i-it's what I wanted to do anyway. An-And I want to make sure Morty gets something better t-than AR dragging him around b-because he's too drunk to stay still for a minute. I-I also want to get E-Rick something, b-but...uh. I-I'm not sure if he would like it. I-I'll try and see...before AR goes to see him. I-I don't want to walk in on them. F-Fuck no."

"My bro-bro and I will have Christmas at our house as per usual, but I managed to convince our parents to invite the Grunkles over this year! So it will be one big family reunion!" She claps her hands, clearly excited at the idea. Then, glancing around, she lowers her voice. "And also an real fun Christmas. Mom and Dad never want to do anything special, so it's always so booooring. And I bet that Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford will get us better presents!"

"I suppose that it depends on what season of the canon we're considering? Since my Mom's...disappearance, Dad hasn't been big about holidays, so at most I got to do something small with Natalie and my bodyguard. And with Plagg, once we're alone. As for after season 5, well, we'd definitely have something better, with the three of us, Félix and Aunt Amelie. I...I'm really looking forward to it."

He rubs the back of his head. "Also, since I have proper friends and a girlfriend now, I guess I'll have to go shopping for presents, even if...I'm not very good at that. I guess that Félix and I can figure out something together. And Cat Noir has to get something for Ladybug, uh, so that's something I need to do alone."

"Usually, it was just Mom and I. We had a big lunch and exchanged presents, and that was it. This year it's going to be different, as Adrien said. And yes, we are going shopping together because I...I don't know what you should get to a friend. I tried to ask Duusu, but...let's say that her answers weren't helpful at all."

Featuring:

@advnterccs / @mcltiples: Rick, Morty, Evil Morty, E-Rick, Weird Rick

@evilmcg / @shctupmeg / @petalsxfallen / @slickmcrty

@imprvdente / @hvbris: main verse Fish, teen Fish, Salomé, Mina

@dynamoprotocol: Clarissa, Chance

@shimmerbeasts: Jinx

@technodromes: Bishop

[thehangeddemon]

Sweeping Romance, Cont. || Abel, MJ, & Xavier || December, 2023

MJ: Abel was swiftly and easily caught, locking his hand and wrist to swing the familiar about without accidentally flying off.

"Sweeping music?! What fuckin' movie ya think this is?!"

Abel: "I haven't seen you in ages! We've gotta do this right!" Since MJ was holding him, Abel was able to free his arms to get his phone out of his pocket.

"Or what, is your kissing game not good enough for some sweeping music?"

MJ: "Fuck you and suck my face already! Ya keep this up you're gonna get plowed, too."

Abel: Abel laughed and took MJ’s face in both hands, still smiling as he planted a long, noisy kiss on his lips.

“You say that like it’s a threat.”

MJ: Noisy! Good! He'd get some noise back, and a growl for good measure.

"It is a fuckin' threat," he grinned, finally dropping Abel back on his feet. "Merry fuckin' Christmas."

Abel: “Oh, please, you couldn’t handle me.”

Perfect, now that he was back on the ground he could hug MJ with all of his might. “Merry Christmas,” he said, voice softening just a bit. He’d missed him, dammit.

“Things good? You good?”

MJ: "Who said? You? Fuck you." But where were his arms? Around Abel's waist, and his eyes to the ground. That gentle tone was not lost on him, and made his clothes just a little too warm.

"Ya gonna believe me when I tell ya I just got back from Japan? A fae queen kidnapped me n'took me to a hot spring."

Abel: Abel just beamed. He’d missed this vampire and he’d missed teasing him so he planned to do it as much as possible.

“MJ!” Abel smacked his shoulder. “You’re lucky she didn’t drag you to the bottom of that hot spring and keep you there! You need to be careful. Which came first, going to Japan or getting kidnapped?”

MJ: "Totally gettin' kidnapped. Lucky she knows time zones or I woulda been fucked." He could do this, smile earnestly in Abel's presence. One of the few people in his life that made it effortless.

Abel: “Oh well, at least she’s a considerate kidnapper.” Abel shook his head and gave MJ another smack and hug, in that order.

“I’m glad you’re not at the bottom of a hot spring. How’d you meet a faerie queen? Did she just see you somewhere and think you were hot?”

MJ: Smacks were as welcome as hugs. At least Abel's strength didn't send him flying.

"Met her years ago when I fuckin' fell in a goddamn fairie ring. I didn't think that shit was real!" He would have told them before. Another wild, outrageous response when asked where he'd been. They were almost always the truth, but oh well.

"Yeah, she thinks I'm hot shit. Thought if I didn't bow low enough she'd take my head that first night."

Abel: Abel had to laugh. Just a little bit. “Brother, you’ve got Xavier’s luck with faeries and that ain’t saying anything good. Now you know to stay away from those things.”

He shook his head fondly and yanked MJ down to sit, plopping himself in the vampire’s lap. He was feeling clingy today. “That’s why I told you that you’re lucky you’re not at the bottom of the hot spring. Should’ve called when you were in Japan, we were there too recently. Could’ve seen each other sooner.”

MJ: "Stay away?" He scoffed. "I'm in love!" Whether true or not, that was his story and he was sticking to it, but his smile wasn't up for debate.

Yanked, but not forced. Having Abel in his lap was nothing new, but usually there was a reason. Something on Abel's mind.

"The hell were y'all doin' in Japan? He changin' places again?"

Abel: “Nuh-uh,” said Abel, shaking his head. “We just went on holiday. Devy wanted to see the capybaras that bathe in the hot springs and Xavier wanted fancy sake. Oh! And he got approached to buy a host club.”

MJ: "Sounds exactly like the kinda shit he'd be into. Just for appearances, ya know?"

Abel was finally given a good look. Felt the strength of his hands.

"Ya missed me, didn't ya?"

Abel: “You’d think so, but he turned it down. Guess he didn’t want to be going back and forth all the time to manage it. Could see him buying one in Bangkok now that the idea is in his head though.”

Abel smiled and squished MJ’s cheeks. “Of course I missed you! We live on opposite ends of the planet and you don’t call, you don’t write.”

MJ: He has nothing to say about Xavier living in Bangkok. Not out loud. Then people might have shit to say about his own lifestyle. To each their own, but boy howdy did Rohan need to be a co-owner.

But he did have one thing to say.

"I didn't put ya in Timbuktu."

Abel: He wouldn’t have taken it personally if MJ had said something. He was well aware how the move looked from the outside and that almost no one agreed with it.

The comment was case in point.

MJ’s cheeks were squished some more. “Feeling some kind of way about the living arrangement, are we?”

MJ: "Ow," he frowned. "Ya said yourself ya don't see shit."

Abel: “Yeah, I meant I don’t see you. I live in a giant city, I see lots of shit. Just not a certain vampire who’s off getting kidnapped by faerie queens and being a courier.” Part of it was on him, there was no denying that. But still!

MJ: "Ya can come with me. Travel 'round, get into trouble with me." He raised a brow, waiting for what he knew in his heart of hearts would be a refusal.

Abel: Abel’s face suddenly lit up as he remembered something. He squeezed MJ’s face with renewed vigor.

“Do you remember that clown motel we went to in the desert that one Halloween? I found something just as creepy!”

MJ: Ok, hand privilege was being taken away. Abel's wrists belonged to him now.

"Yeah? Where?"

Abel: “It’s this grocery store full of weird, creepy animatronics!”

MJ: "Why does that exist?"

Abel: “Why does Chuck E. Cheese exist? Who knows! But it does and it’s called…fuck, what was it called?”

He shook his right arm. “Let me look on my phone, I have pictures.”

MJ: "Look, I'mma take you to Chuck E. Cheese for your next birthday."

Abel: “Only if it’s abandoned and haunted. Promise?”

MJ: "What, don't want pizza?"

Abel: “Going to Chuck E. Cheese for good pizza is like washing your hair with dish soap. Sure it technically gets the job done but you’re gonna feel like crap afterward.”

MJ: "Hate to break it to you, but you missed out on the nostalgia."

Abel: “That’s purely American nostalgia, babes. I’m Thai, I feel nostalgic about things like Doraemon and fish snacks.”

MJ: "What happened to the Norwegian?"

Abel: “I didn’t grow up there. I fled there to save my own skin.”

MJ: "I think ya got some shit t'tell me. Or don't. That's fine."

Abel: Abel gave MJ a giant kiss to his cheek. “I’d be glad to. How’s about this? Come with me to Xavier’s resort when it gets dark over there. We’ll sit on the beach and talk about life.”

MJ: "Sounds..." He didn't want to say something potentially ruining, but his instinct was to make a face. So he grinned instead.

"Fine."

Abel: “You’ll see that it’s not so bad over there. You can even talk Xavier into letting you take his fancy racing bike for a spin.”

MJ: "Don't call a bike fancy. Come on, man."

Abel: “It is though! It’s all sleek and fast and pretty.” Abel grinned. “You should see him in a racing suit, feels like a fever dream.”

MJ: "I dunno if I should pay money or never wanna see that. Xavier in a fuckin' racin' suit."

Abel: “Trust me, you do.”

The familiar’s face and smile softened with a deep breath. “He’s smiling again, MJ. Both of them. They’re healing.”

MJ: "Who's both?"

Abel: “Him and Devy. They’re both getting better.”

MJ: "He still got the same school at least? Familiar faces?"

Abel: “The school in Colleen’s village?” Abel shook his head. “X enrolled him in school in Bangkok. We’ve gone back for visits though. Dev talks to Colleen every day.”

MJ: "He's lettin' a demon-fae kid learn the times table with a bunch of humans?"

Abel: “I know how it sounds but Dev isn’t a baby anymore. He’s learning how to use his magic and he’s old enough to know not to bust it out in the middle of class.”

MJ: "Whatever, man. When ya wanna head out?"

Abel: “What time is it?”

MJ: "I dunno." He looked out the window, hoping maybe that would give him an answer.

Abel: Although the sky was yet dark, it was late enough into the night to be called morning and dawn was approaching. On the other side of the planet, the opposite was true; day was turning into night and the sun would be setting soon.

“We should head out soon. Won’t be long until dark. Do you need to eat or anything first?”

MJ: "What, 'fore ya magic me away?" He looked off into space a moment. "Guess feed my babies."

Abel: “Oooh yes, I wanna see them! Have you gotten any more?”

MJ: "Nothin' since Bandit. Why, ya want one?"

Abel: “Come on, you know I’d never take one of your babies away. Just curious.” If anything, Abel was liable to get him more, be or another rat or a hamster or a gerbil.

MJ: "Ya find my hamster ya win a prize. S'a game we've been playin'." Abel was put back on his feet.

Abel: Abel’s face lit up. “The teeny little hamster I gave you that one Christmas with a million whiskers?”

MJ: "Yeah Lil Stuff's still alive. Bites me in my fuckin' sleep. Think that's why the bastard's still alive."

Abel: “Oh my god, did you accidentally ghoul your hamster?”

MJ: "He is... bigger. Yeah think so."

Abel: Abel had to laugh. He just had to.

MJ: "Go the fuck on." Abel was pushed towards the door. "Can't undo this shit now. Got the fucker for life."

Abel: The familiar was still laughing as he went through the door, absolutely tickled by the mental image of a petty little hamster biting MJ in his sleep.

“I think you need to have a chat with him. Or appease him with snacks.”

MJ: "Ya know he should be dead by now, right? Ain't no just puttin' him in a cage. He'll fuckin' turn t'dust."

Abel: "No, I know, but since you have a super ghoul hamster you can at least come to an arrangement where you let him bite you when you're not asleep. But even if you don't, he still deserves snacks."

MJ: "What d'ya give a ghoul rodent that ain't carrots?"

Abel: "Let's find out!" Abel took out his phone and began to search while also searching for the hamster at the same time.

"You could give him clover! Or apples. Or cabbage."

MJ: "Clover? Like four-leaf clover, clover?"

He leaned against the RV door, arms crossed, and waited for Abel to find his objective. He was a terrier after all.

Abel: The familiar nodded. “Yep. Remember that one scene in Bambi? Tiny woodland creatures love clover.”

Now where would a hamster hide? Somewhere it could burrow, like a blanket. It had also developed a habit of biting MJ in his sleep and since it would soon be dawn…

Why, MJ’s bed of course!

MJ: "Ain't seen Bambi, friend."

Ah yes, the bed. There was a lump on the bed. A rat sized lump that wasn't a rat at all. One that scurried at the feeling of movement on the covers and squeaked at being caught.

Same thousand and one whiskers, not at all the same face. A round, fat, bastardization of what was once a hamster.

"Yeahhh... wasn't fibbin'."

Abel: “Really, nev—oh hey, buddy!”

Abel kept one hand on the lump and used the other to fish out his prize, letting out a long, low whistle as he unearthed the hamster.

“Damn, look at you, little baby! The last time I saw you, you were the size of a lychee! Relax, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He cradled the hamster in both hands and got a good look at him. So this is what happened when a hamster got ghouled. “You’re still really cute.”

MJ: "Ya think he's cute?" MJ didn't know what to think. Not consistently. He was humored, horrified, and disgusted. Just one emotion was enough, and one action; he had to end it, didn't he? But it had been months of this.

"All the others are Jrs. He's the only lil fuck doin' it."

Abel: “Sure I do. He reminds me of those medieval paintings with the giant hamsters.”

Abel stroked the not-so-little guy’s head. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined this when he’d found the hamster in that pet shop.

“Ever asked him why he started biting you?”

MJ: "His answers ain't so cute anymore. Ya know when a dog is left with his master's corpse for days? Like that. I was a tasty snack."

Abel: Abel nodded, looking thoughtfully at the little creature in his hands and wondering whether it was happy. Living beyond your years wasn’t something animals typically got to experience.

Perhaps it would be kinder to allow the hamster to reincarnate but speaking about that in front of it felt wrong at the moment.

“Go on and feed your babies,” he said to MJ. “It’ll be sunrise soon.”

MJ: "Yep." Their food was locked away. Just hearing the cabinet open got everyone stirring. Bandit Jr and all the other rats emerged from under the top pillow where they had been keeping warm. A variety of pellets, carrot, lettuce, and dried strawberries were placed at the foot of the bed.

Abel: Seeing all of MJ’s pets come out of their hiding spots made Abel smile. It reminded him of the maids finding bugs in Devlin’s pockets every laundry day and the shrieks that always ensued.

Chuckling to himself, he sent Xavier a text to let him know that he was bringing MJ for a visit so he could meet them at the resort.

“Wanna stay a day or am I bringing you back when the sun sets here again?”

MJ: He gestures to his rats. Certainly they could open the cabinet, and would make damn sure to eat themselves sick.

Lil Stuff was placed in his jacket pocket.

"Gotta feed the babies."

Abel: “Right, yes.” Couldn’t leave the babies unattended, or the RV for that matter. “I’ll have you back at dusk. Or Xavier will if I don’t have enough juice. Told him to come to the resort when he’s free.”

Abel beamed and held a hand out to MJ. “Ready for the beach?”

MJ: "He ain't even there?" MJ did a circle for one last look around. A pair of black and orange swim trunks were taken out of the bottom drawer of forgotten summer clothes.

"Yep." He took Abel's hand.

Abel: “He’s in Bangkok but he was going to come down in a couple days anyway.”

Abel didn’t know how long it had been since MJ had teleported with someone, so he gave his friend a little longer to brace himself than he normally would before whisking him away to the south of Thailand.

The resort Xavier had purchased wasn’t as large or well-known as other resorts in more popular tourist spots, but it was for that very reason that it could boast privacy as well as luxurious accommodations for its guests. It offered comfortable rooms, first rate dining and bars, a spa, a gym, a large pool, exquisite gardens, and service to match, but Xavier could show MJ all of that later if he wanted.

Abel’s only focus was the beach.

The sun had only just set, so activity was still plentiful and would continue long into the night. Music and conversation floated toward them on the balmy, salty breeze, as well as the scent of food and fragrant jasmine.

“Here we are,” Abel said with a happy sigh, letting go of MJ’s hand and spreading his arms wide. “Welcome to Thailand.”

MJ: The most recent had been the very subject some ten minutes ago. Granted, of every method ever put upon him, fae magic disturbed his body the least. He knew why, and had no intention to discuss it.

While demonic travel left him nauseous with sulfur, a familiar left him feeling a void in his stomach. Not so much unfulfilled as he was... hungry.

Any feelings he had toward Xavier for coming here, he'd keep to himself, especially when Abel looked so proud and at peace.

His arm went around his shoulders.

"Where we goin' first?"

Abel: “You tell me!” Abel said cheerfully, mirroring MJ’s gesture and leading him out of the secluded corner he’d teleported them to.

“Beach is that way, pool is that way. There’s a bar there if you wanna hang out. There’s a private pool in Xavier’s rooms if you don’t wanna be around people. If you do, we can head into town.”

He patted the vampire’s shoulder. “You’re on a mini holiday, choice is yours.”

MJ: "Mm, gonna be there when I scoop someone up n'take a bite?" Not that he ever, ever had in Abel's presence. Not that he had with anyone in the coterie other than Rohan. He didn't even know why he had said it except to be a nuisance.

MJ bit his lip and pulled Abel that much closer.

"Ya know what, I don't wanna make a decision right now. Pretend I'm blind," he closed his eyes. "Go on n'lead me around."

Abel: Abel snorted. “You do you if you’re hungry, dude. And maybe go for a tourist so they have a nice vacation memory.” Probably much nicer than a lot of the other things he’d seen tourists do.

“Your wish is my command!” Abel laughed, guiding MJ along a path that, unbeknownst to the vampire, led to the bar by the pool.

MJ would be able to hear the music and conversation growing louder as they approached, along with the clink of glass and the sound of splashing water. Abel spoke in Thai to the bartender, accepted something from her, and then led MJ away again.

If at any point MJ decided to peak, he’d see beers in Abel’s hand and notice that the familiar was leading them toward the beach.

MJ: Oh, he opened his eyes. He still had no idea where everything was. Not really. He didn't look beyond a few feet in front of himself at a time, in his own little world that was nothing more than static thoughts.

Abel could have led them anywhere and he would have trusted the familiar. It was the scent of whelming scent of salt water and the crash of waves that finally pulled him back.

"All them for you, huh?"

Abel: “For us!”

Abel pulled MJ down to sit on the sand with him and set two of the four beers aside. The two still in his hand were opened and one was offered.

“You don’t have to drink it, you can just hold it. I know what happens when you eat or drink anything.” He wanted MJ to have a good time and having to throw up did not make for a good time.

MJ: Projectile - well, it didn't make for a good evening, but his hands were cold enough to hold Abel's second beer like an insulating sleeve.

"Get drunk enough I might take a sample of ya."

Abel: Abel kicked off his shoes and leaned back on his elbow.

“Been needing to get your drunk on by proxy?” he asked, watching MJ closely.

MJ: He stared out at the ocean. He had no love affair with her waves and mysteries, but she was pretty just the same.

"Why not?" he shrugged. "It's the holidays."

Abel: “Sure is. Doing anything special? Seeing your faerie queen again maybe? Minus the kidnapping.”

MJ: "Sure. Anytime I need t'get lost."

Abel: Something about that statement piqued Abel’s curiosity. It made him feel like something was off.

“What’s she like?”

MJ: "Woman talks... like a book. Sometimes. Gotta play the part. Just wants somethin' she can't have."

Abel: Now why did that sound familiar? Had MJ said the book thing about Xavier before? It felt like he had, although Abel had yet to figure out exactly what that meant.

But one thing at a time.

“What does she want? For you to stay with her?”

MJ: The vampire scoffed, finally mirroring Abel's stance.

"A life."

Abel: Okay, that was definitely familiar. That was essentially the reason that MJ had broken up with Rohan and had entered into his friends with benefits deal with Pete.

He nodded and took a sip of his beer. “Guessing you haven’t talked to her about it since you’re having to play a part.”

MJ: "My ear's open." He wasn't going to go into detail, no matter how much he loved Abel. He could keep his secrets when he wanted to. When throwing them away would be less entertaining.

"Ya jealous?"

Abel: Abel smiled and shook his head. “Of course not. You know I just want you to be happy. Ridiculously happy.”

He reached over to pat MJ’s leg. “All I’m gonna say is that if your faerie queen is someone that makes you happy, talking to her is worth a shot. Maybe she’d be willing to go for a relationship like the one you’ve got with Pete. And if she’s not, then at least you’ll have been clear, you know?”

MJ: "Of course not, he says."

His light expression dampened, his eyes falling to Abel's hand. So, that's what this was about. Something had felt off, but he couldn't put his finger on what until now.

"I'm the sly. Don't worry 'bout it." The familiar's hand was given its own pat. The weight of each strike dead and lingering. Leave it there.

Abel: Even though MJ wasn't saying much or elaborating on anything, but what he had said plus the fact that he was nipping Abel's line of questioning in the bud was enough for Abel to know he'd touched on a sensitive spot. Whatever was going on in his head wasn't something he was willing to share, and that was fine.

The vampire knew by now that he had a sounding board whenever he was ready, if he ever was.

"Okay." Abel drank some more beer and looked out across the ocean for a while, letting the quiet settle over them for a moment before he smiled.

"Would you believe me if I told you there was a point in my life when I didn't think I'd ever get to see this view again?"

MJ: Abel had dropped the subject, gratefully, but MJ expected with every fiber of his being it would be touched on again before their departure. He knew what he would say, when the time came.

"Why wouldn't ya? Ya can be anywhere n'everywhere."

Abel: “Anywhere but here,” Abel sighed, contemplating the beer in his hand. “Here as in Thailand, but not this beach specifically. I left when I was a teenager for my own safety.”

MJ: "Someone I get to kill?" he asked, humorless. He didn't like seeing Abel bothered.

Abel: He shook his head. “Even though they deserve to die, I wouldn’t even know which direction to point you in.”

MJ: "Got some explainin' to do."

Abel: The familiar nodded and sighed again. “Remember that time I told you that I was raised by my grandma? It’s because my parents got killed when I was a little kid. Never knew who did it, but my grandma always figured it had been hunters. Dad was a witch, mom was his familiar. Makes sense for it to have been hunters.”

MJ: Abel's confession posed more questions. Ones inappropriate, for now. It had never occurred to him to wonder how a familiar was made. Like stories of dwarves being birthed from rocks in caves. Something outrageous like a fairytale. Certainly not with a witch. Certainly not a house, a car, a life like a human. Was it at all like that? He wanted to know. It burned at his curiosity, but he wouldn't. Every ounce of tact told him to wait.

Without inquisitiveness, there was only empathy. One was an itch to scratch, and the other was a cut.

"Supposed t'hunt shit like me," he sighed.

Abel: “The nuances don’t always matter,” Abel said with a shrug. “It’s like people who are homophobic. They don’t care what flavor of gay you are, just that you’re what they consider immoral and wrong. A lot of hunters and sleepers operate the same way. They don’t care about details. You’re different, you’re not human, so you have to die according to them. Doesn’t matter if you’re a kid or an adult.”

MJ: Sleepers. He'd heard that before, but not from Abel. Not that he could remember the name or face who had said it last. It was dismissed as quickly as it was thought.

"Idiots. Idiots everywhere," he sighed in solidarity.

Abel: “Murdering idiots.” More beer, more sighing, more gazing out at the ocean.

“This all happened in Phuket. After the funeral, grandma took me and we moved to Bangkok. Well, ran away to Bangkok is probably more accurate. Things were good for a few years but then one day when I was on my way back from getting food, got jumped.”

MJ: "She a uh... familiar, too?"

One biting question at a time. The one seemingly callous question, first, and then, "Did ya kill em?"

Abel: “Nope, witch. And no, I didn’t.” But god were there days when he wished he had.

“I was a skinny little eighteen year-old and there were three of them. They would’ve finished me off if it hadn’t been for the two uncles who heard all the racket and came to help me.”

MJ: So, she was the paternal grandmother, if he was following logic. He would swear he was paying attention, but - uncles? Literal or cultural phrase? The same as every woman in Spain being tía.

Again, dwelling on the inconsequential.

"Same hunters?"

Abel: “Never knew for sure but that it was hunters? No doubt. They didn’t take anything. Had a full wallet on me and they didn’t touch it. They didn’t even try. Maybe they were stalking me or happened upon me accidentally, I don’t know.”

MJ: "They hurt your grandma?"

Abel: Abel shook his head. “Never. While I was in the hospital she stayed with her friend and she moved again after she sent me away.”

MJ: "Kay."

What he wanted to say sat on the tip of his tongue for a moment, waiting to be bitten back or allowed to spill.

"We got that in common, leavin' em t'help em."

Abel: “I didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want me to either but she was terrified, she thought it was the only way to keep me safe. She’d been saving to send me to university and ended up giving me the money so I could get as far from here as possible instead.”

Abel leaned back on the sand and heaved a long sigh. “And that’s how I wound up in Norway.”

MJ: "A familiar goin' t'university." This was real life, apparently. Why had he not stopped to think about it? He associated with vampires, demons, faeries, the occasional witch and druid in denial; why was he stuck on this?

"Thought ya were fuckin' part Norwegian or some shit."

He took Abel's hand and brought it to his mouth to nibble.

Abel: Abel finally laughed. “It’s a lot more common than you think. Life isn’t all magic, still gotta pay for things. Well. Unless you’re Xavier.”

He smiled at MJ, trying to tickle his chin. “Nope, but you’re right in that I’m not full Thai. Dad was from Taiwan.”

MJ: "Only other familiar I know was born an animal. He don't want for shit, ya know, like an animal."

For a long time, that was exactly what he thought Abel was. Born as a dog, lived simply as a dog, and chose Xavier for his many comforts. A simple life of magic and neediness. Being born on the human side was a bit of a disappointment. Abel was right, not everything was magic, and the child in MJ wanted to turn his nose at it.

"Why'd ya pick Xavier?"

Abel: “Mhm, happens that way sometimes,” Abel said with a nod. “Magic can be and usually is a clusterfuck, no two people have the same experience. Same applies to familiars.”

He straightened just enough to finish his beer before laying back down. “Because he felt right to me. He was…appealing in a sort of visceral, magicky way. Choosing a companion is a gut thing for familiars. For all animals really.”

MJ: "Ya don't regret him?" he asked.

Abel: Abel smiled and shook his head. “Not once in all the years I’ve known him. He still feels right to me. He’s still appealing in that magicky way. Actually he’s probably more appealing now than he was then.”

MJ: "What changed him?"

Abel: "Devlin," he said simply. "There's a world of difference between who Xavier was before Devlin was born and who he is now. Having a kid didn't just suddenly make him know more magic or anything but...he opened up more. He let more of life in."

MJ: "I never knew the other guy," MJ sighed. "I'll take your word for it."

Abel/Xavier: "I think that's probably for the best. Other guy could be a real dick."

"Who's a dick?"

Abel sat up and looked behind him, grinning at Xavier who was standing a few feet away with his hands in his pockets, watching them with an amused look on his face.

"Took you long enough to show up!" said the familiar. "I texted you ages ago!"

"I couldn't very well leave my car in the middle of the road." Xavier smiled at MJ. "Lovely to see you, Aquaman."

MJ: MJ tilted his head between his shoulders, staring at the demon upside down. He thought if he frowned it would show as a grin, but didn't think anyone would get the joke.

"Hey there, Sulfur Boy. Grab a beer. We got too many."

Xavier: "So I see." Xavier grabbed a beer from the pile and sat on the opposite side of MJ, stretching out with a sigh. As much as he enjoyed his new car, sitting in traffic was such a chore.

"I'm glad Abel convinced you to come, it's been too long since we've seen each other. Have you been well? Still enjoying your courier job?"

MJ: His arm wrapped around Xavier's shoulders without thinking, giving a squeeze and releasing.

"Yep. Yep." He'd just leave it at that. If the demon wanted to read his mind, there was absolutely nothing he could do. Reading it wasn't manipulating it.

"Gimmie a kiss, fucker."

Xavier: Xavier had long adhered to a personal policy of not looking into supernatural minds, particularly those that belonged to the people close to him, which MJ certainly was.  As his friend he was both safe from and to Xavier, so the affection he gave was easily accepted as well.

“You really did miss me,” the demon said with a grin, kissing MJ’s cheek. “Want a new bike for Christmas?”

MJ: "That what I get for missin' ya?" Oh, but he glanced over his shoulder, as though a bike was waiting just behind.

"I don't want one of your crotch rockets."

Xavier: “I was going to give you one anyway, you just happened to come to me before I could come to you. But if you don’t want one, tell me what you do want. Pretend I’m Santa Claus.”

MJ: "Hmm." His arm draped around Xavier's shoulders; his free hand rested on Abel's stomach.

"I wanna see ya streak across this beach."

Abel/Xavier: Xavier scoffed and sipped his beer. “Absolutely I will not, not even for you.”

“Make him wear a T-shirt,” Abel said to MJ.

MJ: "We're hidin' the chest but not the dick?"

Abel: “Nah nah nah, a T-shirt and some of those elephant pants all the tourists wear. And flip flops!”

MJ: "Ahh." He looked over at Xavier. "Nah fuck the elephant pants. I want 80s shorts."

Abel: Abel’s fit of laughter at the suggestion was not at all helped by the horrified look on Xavier’s face.

“Oh my god, yes. With the shirt tucked in. Should make him wear a visor too.”

MJ: "Let's fuckin' go, X. Merry Christmas."

Abel/Xavier: “A visor?” Xavier looked positively pained. “A little bit of mercy, please. I already lived through the 80s once.”

“Nope!” Abel said cheerfully. “Come on, Santa. Are you picking out your outfit or should we? What do you think?” he added to MJ.

MJ: "He's got a blue complexion, don't he? Blues, purples." He framed Xavier between his fingers. "Yeah, maybe some orange." Gotta throw in his favorite color.

Abel/Xavier: Abel nodded excitedly. “Day-Glo orange! Should we add a fanny pack?”

Something akin to the sound a dying animal would make came out of Xavier. He downed half his beer.

MJ: "Was that a thing in the '80s? Thought that was just retired Floridians. What ya think, X?"

Xavier: “I think the two of you are enjoying this too much. But yes, they were a thing in the 80s and they should have stayed in the 80s.”

MJ: "Nah. Ya gotta have some clothes from then. Don't ya?"

Xavier: “My clothes have all been custom made for the past 70 years. I do not partake of hideous fashion trends.”

MJ: "Nanana. I call bullshit. I wanna see them high waisted shit from way back when. Let's go invade his closet."

Xavier: “Even if I did own anything—which I never did—my house burned down, remember? All my old clothes were destroyed.”

MJ: "Allllll of em? Thought y'all demons n'vampires had safe houses everywhere."

Xavier: Xavier nodded. “All of them. Clothes, art, precious things that cannot be replaced. I didn’t have multiple homes then, otherwise I would’ve been able to save some things.”

MJ: Hmm. He wasn't going to have this dim the mood. Xavier wasn't crying.

His elbow nudged Abel.

"We really gotta do this. And a suit. Some really vintage shit."

Abel: Abel had been keeping an eye on Xavier throughout this whole exchange, ready to divert the conversation if it became too much for his demon. Thankfully it hadn’t come to that, so his smile remained easy and firmly in place.

“Hell yeah, let’s go!” He finished his beer and got to his feet. “Market’s still open, it’ll have what we need. X, we’re taking your bike.”

MJ: "We all gonna be on one fuckin' bike? What is this, India?" An empty bottle of beer was picked up and jiggled at the pair. "We ain't doin' shit 'til y'all finish this shit."

Abel/Xavier: “Dude, you can’t even imagine the crazy bike shit I’ve seen since we’ve been here. Three people on a bike doesn’t even rank. Also we’re not taking X.”

Xavier held out his hand for another beer. “Why not? Don’t I get a say in this awful outfit?”

Abel opened one for him. “You’ll veto everything we pick!”

MJ: "So wait, the fuck are we doing?" MJ laughed. This back-and-forth banter was dusting off the burdens on his shoulders.

Abel: “First we’re gonna finish these beers,” Abel said as he opened a bottle for himself. “And then you and I are gonna go to the market to buy Xavier’s outfit.”

MJ: "How long's it take t'drink four beers? Let's fuckin' go! Chug! Chug!"

Abel/Xavier: Abel immediately took MJ at his word, while Xavier merely chuckled and shook his head.

“You’re not getting anywhere near my bike after this. I’ll drive the two of you to the market.”

“You’re gonna—!”

“I’ll have some dinner while you shop.”

MJ: "We gonna find everything we need here? Really?"

Xavier: Xavier nodded as he sipped his beer. “You’d be surprised. The shorts might be difficult but everything else? Entirely plausible.”

MJ: "Bruh the shorts are gonna be difficult no matter where we are. We need a fuckin' time machine."

Xavier: “The two of you might have to settle for elephant pants. Or regular shorts, I suppose.”

MJ: "Man. We're tryin' t'recreate the '80s, not the '70s." Might have been popular here, but they had a vision, dammit.

"Oh, no - I know what t'do. I got this."

Xavier: Xavier squinted. “What do you have in that mischievous mind, Aquaman?”

MJ: "Don't worry 'bout it, Sulfur Boy. I got ya."

Abel/Xavier: “That’s what worries me.” Despite what Xavier said, he was smiling.

He hadn’t even swallowed the last of his beer before Abel was handing him the other. So much for a leisurely drink on the beach. These two were dead set on their plan.

Once all the beers were finished, Abel gathered up the empty bottles and got to his feet. “Let’s go!”

MJ: "Gonna ask the girliest shit in the world. Here it comes. Ready?"

He shaped Xavier's body with both hands.

"Tell me your measurements, baby."

Abel/Xavier: Xavier snorted and pulled out his phone. “I’ll send them to you, I don’t know them off the top of my head.” Such knowledge was his tailor’s business.

“Text and walk,” said Abel, tugging Xavier to his feet. “We taking your car?”

The demon shook his head. “No, one of the resort’s cars. Mine attracts too much attention.”

MJ: "What happened t'magic?" He was already on his feet and arguing with sand in his shoe. "That thing y'all do. Pop, pop, pop. Just pop-pop us there."

Xavier: “I thought you didn’t like teleportation,” said Xavier. “But if you’re willing, by all means. Saves the trouble of retrieving the keys.”

MJ: "Might as fuckin' well. I ain't the one drinkin'. I'd bite this one, but it'd feel like cheatin'." He pointed between familiar and demon. "Homewrecker cheatin'," he smirked.

Abel/Xavier: It was Abel’s turn to snort. “Ha! Joke’s on you, you can’t wreck a home you’re a part of. Come on.”

He took MJ’s arm and led him back over to the spot where he’d initially teleported them with Xavier not far behind. After a small pit stop to get rid of all the empty bottles, of course.

“Where should we land?” he asked Xavier.

The demon took MJ’s other arm. “Hmm…the parking lot, behind the annoying vegetable lady’s van. She always parks in the corner.”

“Perfect.”

MJ: MJ wondered if that was really true. And then he wondered if Abel and Xavier had done anything remotely sexual. He'd heard the rumors. Stories from the horse's mouth. Once upon a time, the demon had no loyalties. Stuck his dick in anything pretty. Why not his familiar.

He shouldn't be thinking anything in the presence of telepaths. Just... tilt his head gently and spill his thoughts from his ear.

"Don't mind me. M'along for the ride."

Abel/Xavier: From Abel and Xavier’s perspective, it was absolutely true. MJ was part of the demon’s coterie and therefore part of his home and his family.

And he was, of course, safe from having his thoughts read. For the best in this case, unbeknownst to demon and familiar alike.

“Damn right you are.” Abel squeezed his arm. “You know the drill.”

After giving the vampire a moment to brace himself, Abel transported them across town to the market. He and Xavier had an agreement that when possible, the familiar’s magic would be used for teleportation since it was a bit gentler than Xavier’s. It was still uncomfortable for those not accustomed, but less so.

As expected, the van was parked in a dark corner of the parking lot, safe from the prying eyes of any passersby. It would be a while yet before things quieted down.

“The two of you go shop,” said Xavier. “I’m off to eat grilled pork.”

MJ: "Ya actually gonna wear this shit? Tellin' ya now, if we buy all this legit n'ya cheat us, I might actually whip your ass."

But, with enough effort and letting concerning thoughts trickle from his ear, he could manage an authentic smile. His shoulders were far from unburdened, but it was a start.

Xavier: “Yes, Aquaman, I promise I’ll wear everything the two of you buy for me. I’ll even let you take pictures.” Xavier knew MJ was going to try to anyway, so he thought he might as well embrace it.

This was MJ’s Christmas present after all.

[rottingmanifesto]

Gifts

Happy holidays to all!

For: @sleepytime-moga ! Naomi and John (just hanging out)

“You’ve gotta be fuck-ing kidding me,” John says, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Really?”

“What? He deserved it.”

“I’m not saying he didn’t, but Jesus Christ, maybe be a bit more subtle.”

Naomi examines a hangnail while sitting opposite to John. “Wow, John. I thought you knew me well.”

He sighs, half-laughing. “Yeah, well, guess you and Lincoln really are a perfect match, then.”

She finally cracks a smile.

The two had been talking for upwards of an hour, about anything and everything— it mostly came back to Lincoln, all things considered— and sharing all kinds of anecdotes from whatever came to mind. In this case, it was over Naomi throwing water in some Dixie mobster’s face.

“Well, I guess that’s one way to handle racism.”

“Got any better ideas, white boy?”

John shrugs. “I’m not judging the emotion, I’m just judging the method.”

“Bold coming from you, Mister LSD.” She crosses her arms. “Least I didn’t make him trip balls before splashing boiling water in his face.”

“Hey, that was a one-time thing.”

“Right, right. Just like all of this is a one-time thing, too.”

The two crack grins, John downing part of the bourbon and pushing the bottle towards her. Naomi takes it.

“Merry fuckin’ Christmas to that asshole.”

“Yeah, Merry fucking Christmas.”

For: @santademikey ! Florence and Danny (romantic)

You know you’re awful nervous about telling your old man about Danny’s admittedly harebrained idea of getting married. You’re over the moon, sure, but Dad might not be and that’s the issue. You clear your throat as you sit down in front of Olivia, fake-smiling.

Aunt Olivia— if you can call her that, you never know with her— has that slight-smile on her face that indicates she knows something you don’t. Or rather, she knows what you’re thinking and you don’t like it.

“Miss Marcano,” Danny pipes up, taking her hand and shaking it. He’s more jittery than normal and stands behind you, hands on your shoulders, quivering. For a boy who can race like nobody’s business, he sure had lost his nerves. “I, uh, well, this may shock you.”

“What is it, dear?” She’s speaking to you. Shit, she’s speaking to you.

“We, uh, we have a big announcement to make—”

The door opens and you look up.

Shit.

“Mister Marcano,” Danny nods, polite. He offers his hand, and Sal takes it for a second. “Pleasure to see ya again.”

Dad nods at your fiancé. “Am I interruptin’ something?” He has an eyebrow cocked, playing along with the game. He looks bemused but you know he ain’t. He’s likely pissed.

“Sit down Sal, you’re just in time.”

You almost curse Olivia out for that.

“Please, go on.”

You take a deep breath. It’s better if you break the news.

“We- uh, Danny an’ I- we got engaged.” You can’t help but beam. But your Dad…

For: @floating-space-jellyfish ! Miela and Danny (romantic)

Miela’s taking Danny’s hand, bouncing her leg in excitement. Nerves, too, but excitement mostly. She’d never gone racing, let alone with someone as skilled as Danny. This wasn’t a traditional race; the only opponent was the wind.

Her hair is flying all over the place and she keeps spitting strands out. Danny’s laughing wildly, whipping around corners at breakneck speed. The sun is shining.

Neither are speaking— no point in it, they couldn’t hear each other— but both had smiles on their faces. Shit, when’s the last time Danny felt like this, like he was a little kid again? Miela made him beam like he did back when his Ma was alive. Hell, with her around, Danny was almost certain his Ma was still around, maybe watching from somewhere high up. He presses the gas down. Maybe if he goes fast enough, they can reach the sky like his Da used to tell him.

Danny grasps her hand back, smiling at her.

This girl really made him happy.

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐢𝐱𝐢𝐞 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭

He was all you needed tonight, here under the Christmas lights.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✰ Biker!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✰ 1.0k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✰ Tooth rotting fluff, mention of alcohol

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✰ Christmas lights are legit my favourite part of the festive season, and it is one day my dream to own a home and literally deck it out with as many lights as possible ✰ A huge thank you to @buckyismybicycle for her help with the lyric base for this day — girl, you saved me so much frustration, so thank you!

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ✰ Underneath the Christmas Lights by Sia

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✰ Merry Fuckin’ Christmas —  Masterlist

𝑶𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒉 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔, 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒈𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆; 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕, 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒓, 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔, 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑷𝒊𝒙𝒊𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕…

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It was the one time - the only time - that you had been tempted to break a rule, on purpose. 

The boys were all in Church. Bucky had called a quick ‘meeting’ regarding a deal that was to take place in the new year, and you were sat on a barstool with Nat, staring at the barrier between you and your King for the past fifteen minutes. 

Naturally, the door didn’t open no matter how much you willed it to. 

Being the kind soul she was, Nat brushed off your fidgeting and excitement with a simple quiet, “They’ll be out soon.”

It didn’t abate the impatience that burned through every fibre of your being, because today was the day that Bucky promised to hang Christmas lights. And, considering Bucky was a man of his word, you were keen to force time to go quicker.

There were five boxes - chests almost - stacked neatly by the clubhouse door just waiting to be unpacked, but you had promised to leave them be until Bucky was ready - which turned out to be the only promise you ever regretted making. 

Chairs finally scraped along the floor behind the closed doors, and your heart leapt into your throat in anticipation. “We’ll touch base again later when the date is closer,” you heard Bucky say, the authority obvious even when his voice was muffled by timber. “Now,” Bucky started again, and the doors swung outwards. Once he met your gaze, he grinned; his eyes bright like the evening star. “Let’s get started, hmm?”

“Finally,” Nat started, that cheeky smirk the only tell that she was teasing. “Have fun, kids.”

You narrowed your eyes at her and she stared back, a manicured brow raising in question. “You’re helping us, Nat.” She threw her head back and groaned, but you continued, “There is nothing like the Christmas spirit!”

“Yeah, there is. It’s called vodka.”

Steve chuckled as he strode forward towards the boxes. “It’s only early, babe,” he said, grunting with effort as he hefted one of them into his arms. “Save it for later.”

“C’mon, c’mon,” Peter rushed, bounding forward and picking up a box that shook as he rocked back and forth on his feet. It was a relief you weren’t alone in your excitement. “Boss,” he looked towards Bucky who stood holding your back against his chest, “we should put them on the gate as well, it’ll look cool, especially for the kids!”

You felt a sigh leave Bucky as he stared at Peter, almost fondly. “Why not,” Bucky began, letting you go so he could walk over and grab a box. “Won’t hurt to, I guess.”

The excitement kicked up to an almost frenzy once all of you stepped outside, boxes in hand while Sam carried a small step ladder. “You can use this, Sweets,” Sam offered once he placed it at the closest eave to the clubhouse door. “Can’t make us do all the work,” he winked, and you shoved his shoulder playfully. 

“Wanna bet, Wilson?” You teased, and he just laughed, striding towards the garage where the proper ladders were kept. 

“All right!” Bucky called, gathering all the attention towards him. “Let’s get this done before nightfall.”

Sam returned only a moment later with two ladders under his arms, and the lot of you set to work. You and Nat stayed on the ground with Steve (much to Sam’s disappointment), fetching ropes of lights when Bucky, Peter, or Sam called for it, and providing moral support - much to the annoyance of the others. 

“Just a bit higher, Pete!” You yelled, while he rolled his eyes and huffed an annoyed breath. 

“Sweets,” he said and you hummed, sure to keep your undivided attention on the pinched expression on his sweet face. “Shut up.”

Time flew while they were up on the ladders, shifting occasionally to a better spot, and the sun had begun to set once they were finished - the final string of icicle lights cascading down the wired fence and gate. 

“Oh, Bucky,” you breathed once he stood next to you to admire their hard work. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you, sweetheart,” he replied and you smiled softly, meeting his gaze. 

“Ever the charmer, babe,” you said softly, and he winked. 

Bucky turned to Steve and gestured to the lights. “Turn ‘em on, make sure we haven’t fucked it up anywhere.”

Not a moment later, the lot was bathed in light varying from reds to greens, blues to purples, whites to golds. It was unlike anything you had seen before, and what made it all the better was the fact that you could share it with your family. 

Cheers erupted around you as the lights flashed and strobed through sequences, the darkening sky brightened by the boy’s handiwork. It was like thousands of faeries - pixies - had landed and made their home along the eaves and across the roofs of the 107th motorcycle club’s home. 

“It is stunning,” Nat said, finally making her way back to you after crushing Steve in a hug as he walked to stand with Bucky somewhere out of your field of vision. She slung an arm over your shoulder so you put one around her waist. A sudden kiss to the cheek gave you pause and you looked over at the redhead, the lights sparkling and brightening her emerald gaze. “You did good, babe. You did good.”

You glanced back over towards the garage only to see Bucky standing at the side fence, his arms moving wildly as he spoke to a group of kids through the gaps in the wire. The bicycles between their legs were decorated with tinsel and they stared longingly at the row of parked motorcycles - a wish for the future, a wish for brotherhood. 

Their faces were aglow with a dance of festive colours, joyous and bright, as all kids should be. 

In that moment, you caught a glimpse of what you wanted - what you had. Christmas was all about wishing and crossing your fingers, it was about spending time with your friends, your family. 

You were a lucky one - you already had both. 

“Yeah, Nat,” you whispered, leaning into her embrace, a small smile pulling at the corner of your lips. “I did.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[shuttershocky]

I stepped on a glass shard and sliced my foot open merry fuckin christmas i guess

[advnterccs-archive]

@countlessrealities sent; Morty had started to think that it would have been impossible to catch the Ricks separately. The two had been attached to the hip since the moment their families had come together for Christmas. He refused to give his other grandfather his present while his own was standing right there. Knowing his Rick, he would have mercilessly made fun of it, whether he truly thought that it was a bad gift or not.

Finally, after almost an hour, one of the Beths called his Rick in the kitchen, leaving the other one available. Morty didn't waste a single moment and instantly made a beeline for the man, holding the gift to his chest.

"Uh, R-Rick?" He called out, with the slightest hint of nervousness. Not because he was afraid to be teased, he was far too used to it to worry about it, but because he was a little concerned that the scientist might no like the present. "I-I got you...y-you know." He clumsily shoved the package forward. "M-Merry Christmas...I-I guess."

The white ribbon and light blue papers hid a cylindrical object, not dissimilar from a black bluetooth speaker if not for the obviously alien writing on it.

"I-It's a speaker an-and a, uh, converter? L-Like it can scan an-and automatically digitalise audios tha-that are on cassettes an-and stuff like that," Morty tried to explain, rubbing the back of his neck. "An-And it has a lot of memory, so...uh. I-I think you can put like...a million songs or-or something on it." A pause. "I-I dug through my Rick's things an-and uploaded the Flesh Curtains cassettes he still has, so...uh. T-There's three complete albums an-and a few singles on it already."

[[ My Morty for your Rick || He's so nervous omg xD ]]

Disappointment reached Rick's eyes when he watched his counterpart head over to the kitchen. Though, that look was replaced with amusement as he noticed the other Morty approach him. His eyes locked onto the gift that the teen was carrying.

Blowing out a puff of a laugh, Rick took it into his hands. "Y-Yeah, Merry Christmas, l-let's see what you got me,"

It was obvious that Rick was slightly drunk at this point. So he wouldn't be too harsh towards the kid. At least, not in the way that wasn't also mixed with lots of humor and laughter.

Pulling back the paper and the ribbon, he removed the speaker from the confines of the decorations. He glanced at it curiously, noticing all of the features of it. The writing on it readable as he knew the language. Which made it easier for him to understand what this was.

The explanation for it was half tuned out. Only picking up on the important key words. If there was anything he missed, he simply could figure it out later. Since this seemed to be something that looked easy, for someone like him, to operate.

Then those words caught his attention, head lifted to shoot Morty a lit up look. Excitement showing in the wide smile on his face as his voice raised.

"H-Holy shit, y-you got the Flesh Curtains on here?" It'd been so long since he'd heard, let alone sang along, to his old band's tunes. "Damn, d-d -- h-have I ever told you you're the cooler Morty? C'mere,"

Setting down the speaker, Rick pulled the teen closer. His hand securely gripped onto the other's shoulder. While his free hand began to ruffle up the brown locks of hair, no care in how messy it would.

"Y-You fuckin' little shit -- y-you better have gotten Rick something just as good o-or you're losing that fucking cool title, got it?"