#also merry christmas and new year or whatever

[theonottsbxtch]

WAR IS OVER | CL16

an: this has been in my drafts for so long and i’ve been so excited to share it with all of you! listen to happy xmas by john lennon to enhance experience or whatever. MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!! (if you don��t celebrate, then happy holidays and happy new year!) also this is low-key slightly angsty and emotional but HEA!!

airforce!charles x reader

wc: 2.8k

Snowfall had begun in earnest that December, blanketing the village in a hush so profound it felt as though the world itself were holding its breath. The young woman stood at the kitchen sink, hands submerged in icy dishwater, staring absently out the frost-etched window. The sky was a pale grey, a curtain of wintry gloom stretched thin over rooftops where chimneys smoked and whispered of warmth.

She glanced down at her hands, red from the cold despite the scarf wrapped snug around her wrists, and sighed. Dorothy and Julian were in the parlour, their laughter spilling into the house like sunlight. Dorothy had spent the morning cutting paper chains while Julian orchestrated a kingdom of tin soldiers on the hearth. Their joy pierced her heart like shards of glass—a reminder of Charles. Julian’s unruly hair fell into his eyes just the way his father’s had, and Dorothy’s cheeky smile carried the same tilt of mischief.

The letter was still hidden in her dresser drawer, folded too neatly for something so devastating. It had arrived in the brittle chill of early November, its official tone draining all warmth from the room as she read the curt words: "Presumed missing, believed dead." Protocol, they’d called it. A mechanism for closing doors, for stitching the torn fabric of lives left behind. But the wound in her heart remained unsewn.

The children didn’t know. How could they? She had tucked the grief away, smothering it beneath cheerfulness she didn’t feel. “Mummy, can we have plum pudding this year?” Dorothy had asked, her face aglow with anticipation. She had forced a smile then, nodding and promising, though the thought of Christmas without Charles’s deep laugh, his steady presence, seemed unbearable.

As the evening descended, the village grew quiet save for the occasional crunch of boots on snow as neighbours hurried home. The lights on the tree—a scraggly thing Julian had insisted was perfect when they’d brought it in—glimmered faintly, their glow reflected in the baubles Charles had hung last year. She turned away, blinking back tears, and began laying the table for supper.

That night, as she tucked Dorothy and Julian into bed, their excitement was infectious. “Father Christmas is coming soon!” Julian declared, his small fists clutching the quilt.

“He won’t forget our house, will he?” Dorothy asked, her voice serious.

“Of course not,” she replied, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest. She kissed their foreheads, inhaling their innocent warmth, and closed the door quietly behind her.

In the stillness of her bedroom, she unfolded the letter once more. The inked words blurred as she stared at them. It was easier, somehow, to believe that the man who had written her so many tender notes, who had kissed her hand on their wedding day, was merely gone for now. Lost but not beyond reach. Yet the shadows of doubt loomed larger with each passing day.

She had told no one. Not her neighbours, whose own husbands and sons littered foreign graves. Not her children, who still whispered prayers for their father each night. She carried it silently, a solitary burden she could neither lay down nor bear much longer.

Outside, the bells of St. Mary’s chimed the hour, each peal a cruel reminder of time’s unyielding march towards Christmas. A Christmas that loomed hollow and bereft. She pressed her forehead to the cold glass, her breath misting the windowpane. Beyond, the world glittered as if untouched by sorrow, as if unaware of her breaking heart.

Christmas morning arrived with the world awash in golden light, the snow outside sparkling like diamonds. Dorothy and Julian burst into her room, their faces alight with the boundless excitement of the day.

“Mum! It’s Christmas!” Julian shouted, already tugging her from her bed.

Dorothy held a small package, wrapped in newspaper and tied with string. “This one’s for you! We saved it, just for today.”

The sight of their shining faces filled her with guilt and gratitude in equal measure. She managed a smile, sitting with them by the hearth as they tore into their small pile of gifts. Wooden soldiers for Julian, a tin tea set for Dorothy—modest treasures in a time of rationing, but enough to spark joy in her children.

As they played, a commotion erupted outside. Shouts echoed down the cobbled street, punctuated by the sharp clang of a handbell.

“The war is over! It’s over!”

She froze, the words piercing through her like sunlight breaking a storm. From her seat on the rug, Dorothy gasped. “Mummy, does that mean Daddy’s coming home?”

She couldn’t speak, the question lodging like a thorn in her throat. All she could do was pull them close, and smile.

“Let’s go outside and celebrate!” She replied instead, walking over to the coat hangers.

She bundled the children into their coats and scarves, their squeals of excitement filling the small house. Dorothy’s cheeks were already pink with joy, her hands fumbling with her mittens.

“Mummy, hurry!” Julian urged, hopping from foot to foot. “We have to go see!”

She forced a smile and kissed the top of his head. “Go on, both of you. I’ll be just a moment.”

The children dashed out into the snow, their laughter spilling down the lane to join the jubilant cries of the neighbours. She closed the door softly behind them, the house falling quiet once more.

Leaning against the door, she drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Her hands trembled as she pressed them to her face, the tears spilling unchecked now that no one was there to see. The news should have been a balm, but it felt more like a cruel twist. The war was over, but Charles would not be coming back with the others. She was sure of it now, the hope that had lingered for so long finally extinguished.

The house felt cavernous again, the weight of her solitude pressing down on her chest. She moved into the kitchen, the floorboards creaking underfoot. The sight of the breakfast dishes—half-eaten toast and crumbs left behind in the morning’s rush—only deepened her ache.

She braced herself against the sink, staring out at the frost-covered garden. Her shoulders shook, the sobs spilling out of her like waves breaking against a crumbling shore. She had carried this grief alone for so long, but now it threatened to consume her entirely.

“Mummy?”

The soft voice startled her, and she turned to find Dorothy standing in the doorway, her small face pinched with concern.

“Why are you crying?” Dorothy asked, stepping forward with cautious, measured steps.

“I’m not, darling,” she lied, hastily dabbing at her cheeks.

“You are,” Dorothy said plainly, slipping her hand into her mother’s. “But you don’t have to. The war’s over, and Daddy would want us to be happy. You should come outside. Everyone’s singing.”

The simplicity of her daughter’s words cut straight through her. She knelt, wrapping Dorothy in a fierce hug, the warmth of her small body grounding her.

“All right, love,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Let’s go and celebrate.”

Dorothy smiled and tugged her hand, leading her to the door.

The street was alive with celebration. Neighbours who had spent years steeped in quiet, rationed hardship now spilled into the snow-covered road, their faces alight with relief and joy. Someone had hauled a wireless outside, the strains of carols mingling with the jubilant cheers. A man passed with a tray of mince pies, offering one to Julian, who accepted with sticky-fingered glee.

Dorothy twirled in circles, her arms outstretched as snowflakes caught in her hair. Her mother stood at the edge of the crowd, watching her children with a tender ache. For their sake, she tried to let herself feel the joy that surrounded her, to bask in the miracle of peace.

“Mummy, look!” Julian called, pointing to a group of men raising a toast with tin mugs. “Maybe Daddy’s with them!”

Her breath caught. She scanned the crowd reflexively, knowing in her heart she wouldn’t find him there. Yet she let Julian cling to the hope she couldn’t bear to shatter.

As the afternoon waned, she gathered her children, their cheeks red from the cold, their hands clutching treasures gifted by neighbours—sweets, a small wooden horse for Julian, a knitted scarf for Dorothy.

Inside, the warmth of the house embraced them, the fire crackling merrily in the grate. She shepherded them upstairs, brushing away their protestations.

“Christmas isn’t over, Mummy,” Dorothy said, yawning despite herself.

“No, it isn’t,” she said with a small smile, tucking her daughter in snugly. “There’s still tonight, and tomorrow, and the day after that.”

She kissed their foreheads, lingering just a moment longer to drink in their innocence. How had they carried on, so untouched by the weight that threatened to crush her? She envied them their resilience, their belief that the world could be made whole again.

Once they were asleep, she descended the stairs, the house eerily quiet once more. The fire in the hearth glowed faintly, its light casting long shadows across the room. She settled into her worn chair, pulling a shawl around her shoulders, her hands curled around a steaming mug.

The world outside had stilled. The street celebrations had quieted, the snow falling again in soft, measured drifts. Her thoughts wandered to Charles, as they always did when the house was silent. She tried to picture his face as it had been the last time she saw him, standing tall in his uniform, a brave smile hiding the fear she knew he felt.

A sharp knock broke through her reverie. She startled, her mug slipping from her hands and clattering to the floor. For a moment, she sat frozen, her heart racing. Who could be calling at this hour?

She rose slowly, her legs trembling as she crossed the room. The cold air seeped in as she opened the door, her breath catching in her throat.

There he stood, framed by the golden glow of the streetlamp behind him. His uniform was tattered, his face pale with exhaustion, but it was him—Charles.

“Hello, love,” he said softly, his voice hoarse but warm, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Her hand flew to her mouth, a sob escaping her lips as the weight of the months, the grief and fear, melted away all at once. “I thought you were dead,” she choked, her words barely a whisper.

He stepped forward, his arms wrapping around her tightly, solid and real. She clung to him, her tears soaking into his coat as he murmured soothing words, his voice trembling with emotion.

For the first time in what felt like forever, her heart felt whole.

For a long moment, she couldn’t let go of him. Her hands clung to his coat as if he might vanish if she dared loosen her grip. The snowflakes clinging to his hair melted into beads of water, and his warmth seeped into her, chasing away the cold that had lived in her heart for months.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered again, her voice trembling.

“I nearly was,” he admitted, his voice low, hoarse with emotion and exhaustion. He pulled back slightly to look at her, his hand lifting to brush away her tears. His touch was tender, his fingers lingering as though trying to memorise her face. “There’s so much to tell you, love. The mission went wrong… we were shot down. Most of us didn’t make it. I was captured—held prisoner for weeks.”

She gasped softly, her heart breaking anew at the thought of what he must have endured. “Oh, Charles…”

“It’s over now,” he said, his voice steadying as he cupped her face in his hands. “I escaped when the retreat began. It was a long road back, but I’m here. I’m back. And I’m not going anywhere again. Ever.”

The tears came fresh, her relief pouring out in sobs that wracked her entire frame. He pulled her close, his arms encircling her as he held her tightly, anchoring her in the moment.

When she looked up at him again, he smiled, the lines of weariness softening into something infinitely gentle. She reached up, her hand trembling as she touched his cheek, then leaned in, her lips brushing his. The kiss was slow, delicate, and filled with everything she couldn’t put into words—her anguish, her longing, her love.

When they finally broke apart, his forehead rested against hers, and he let out a soft, shaky breath.

“The kids?” he asked, his voice hushed, as though afraid to disturb the peace of the moment.

She smiled through her tears, taking his hand. “Come on,” she whispered, leading him up the stairs.

The house was quiet save for the creak of the floorboards beneath their feet. She paused at the children’s door, easing it open with care. The soft glow of the moonlight spilled through the window, illuminating Dorothy and Julian as they slept soundly, their faces peaceful.

Charles stepped into the room, his hand still in hers. He knelt by Julian’s bed first, his expression softening as he took in the sight of his son. His fingers brushed the boy’s dark hair, and his throat worked as though he were fighting back tears.

Then he moved to Dorothy, his gaze lingering on her delicate features. She stirred slightly in her sleep, murmuring something incoherent before settling again.

“They’ve grown,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“They have,” she said, her own voice trembling. “They look so much like you.”

He glanced back at her, his eyes shining, and then turned to gaze at them again. “I can’t believe I almost missed this. Missed them.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder, the two of them standing together in silence for a long moment, watching their children sleep. It was a moment she thought she’d never have again—a moment that felt too precious to disturb, too fragile to let go.

When they finally left the room, closing the door quietly behind them, he pulled her into his arms once more. “I’m back,” he murmured against her hair. “Back for good. We’re whole again, love. Whole.”

The quiet of the house enveloped them as she led him to their room. The door creaked softly as she pushed it open, revealing the familiar space that had so often been her refuge—and her prison—in his absence. The room felt warmer with him in it, the shadows less oppressive, the air lighter.

Charles stood just inside the doorway, his weary eyes scanning the room, as if grounding himself in the life he had fought so hard to return to. She turned to him, her fingers trembling as they moved to the buttons of his tattered coat.

“Let me,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on her face as she worked the buttons loose, one by one. The coat slipped from his shoulders, heavy with the weight of everything he’d been through. She caught it before it hit the floor, draping it carefully over a chair. When she looked up again, she saw his shirt beneath, threadbare and stained, a testament to all he hadn’t told her yet.

Her breath hitched, and she reached out to touch him—his chest, solid and warm beneath the worn fabric. Her tears came again, spilling silently as she rested her forehead against him.

“War is over, Cha,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “It’s over.”

His hand came up to cup the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair as he held her close. “It’s over,” he echoed softly, his voice steady, as if speaking the words made them real.

They stood like that for a long moment, the only sound the faint crackle of the fire downstairs and the whisper of the snow against the window. She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, and in his eyes, she saw the same relief, the same raw gratitude that coursed through her.

Wordlessly, she led him to the bed, pulling back the quilt she had lain under alone for far too long. He eased down beside her, his body sinking into the mattress with a sigh of exhaustion. She followed, curling against him as he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close.

For the first time in months, the bed didn’t feel so empty, the darkness didn’t seem so vast, and the ache in her chest was no longer unbearable. They lay in silence, the words unspoken between them carried in the warmth of his touch, the steadiness of his breathing.

As sleep began to claim them, she whispered into the stillness, “You’re home, Charles.”

And in the soft darkness, he answered, his voice a balm to her weary soul: “I’m home.”

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow

[gotta-winwin]

(☎️) ... merry christmas, please don't call - teaser

⭐ starring: seungcheol

☎️ preview: The toughest part about loving Seungcheol was the fact that he didn’t know himself at all. And how does one truly love a ghost? 

based on the song Merry Christmas, Please Don't Call by Bleachers

“But you should know that I died slow Running through the halls of your haunted home And the toughest part is that we both know What to happened to you Why you're out on your own Merry Christmas, please don't call”

tw/cw: heavy angst + smut, not a happy ending, tortured lovers, coups is an asshole but he doesn't mean to, idol!seungcheol x nonidol!reader, talk of leader responsibilities more in depth warnings will be posted with the full fic

🐻‍❄️ release date: new years eve

🪽fic rating: 18+ | teaser rating: no smut

☁️ masterlist & a/n: this heavy angst christmas fic is to combat the insane amount of fluff in the vernon christmas special (ᵕ—ᴗ—) it's also very self indulgent angst + smut with coups.

"Oh, golden boy, don't act like you were kind"

He was inevitable in the end. Like some invisible string connected the two of you together. Not the pretty, dainty kind of invisible string. Whatever held your lives together was made of barbed wire. Whatever line wrapped around your ribs, restricting your breathing, tying you to him was nothing pretty. It was what army men used in wars. 

You can’t hate your best friend, even if they end up hurting you. You just can’t.

“Come back to bed.” You whisper in the dark as you watch his dark silhouette get up. The clock on his nightstand was barely legible. 

You could hear him throwing a shirt on. “I’ve got to go.”

You open your mouth to ask him again, but the words die in your mouth. A couple days ago you would’ve begged, but the bubbling hatred in you pushed the words down your esophagus, momentarily choking you. Seungcheol noticed your silence. 

“I’ll be back before sunrise.” He leans over the bed and kisses your cheek, brushing a stray hair from it. “Don’t be mad.”

You shake your head in the dark. “I’m not mad.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

That was just how the world spun. You, lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling you used to trace constellations on together. Sheets that smelled like him - aftershave and candles. Pleading words sewn shut in your mouth, hidden in your lungs, suffocating you. As you sank back into sleep, drowning under everything you’ve ever wanted to tell him. You knew it wasn’t his fault. After all - he barely knew who he was, hidden under all his responsibilities and his job title, he was barely a semblance of a man - tugged and stitched together. 

It barely registered in your mind that tomorrow would be Christmas Eve. Part of you knew he wouldn’t be there to celebrate anyways.

[agatalunar]

new year, new me… ㅤㅤ𖤓 · What will 2025 bring you? ㅤㅤ· 𖤓

merry christmas everybody 🤍🎄 sorry for the delay, I hope you enjoy this last reading of the year, and as always thank u for your support… it would be a pleasure for me if you let me know if the reading resonated with you so do not hesitate to send me a message, comment or reblog, it will make me immensely happy

- choose the one with which you feel most connected -

Pile 1… 2… 3…

ㅤㅤ

𖤓 Pile 1

cards: five of pentacles, six of wands, five of wands, nine of pentacles, five of coups

Independence is a great word for this year that is beginning. You are going to start facing the world on your own, so you must act with certainty. It is a year of a lot of personal growth in relation to how you want to present yourself to the world, what you offer.

“Adult life is no longer a game.” You may be a very, very young person or you may not have had the opportunity to do things on your own, but if you really want the things you want, it is important that you take action.

It is a year in which your soul is going to take very different paths in relation to the past and all of them will be good if you know how to choose them and know how to handle them. For some reason it is as if you are embarking on the path of being a CEO/ a type of boss (?)

Getting out of your comfort zone, recognizing your potential and having security and confidence will lead you to success. Use your mind but also your heart, do not let greed or ego guide you. You may want this to help your family's finances, but you are also doing it for yourself. You deserve to get everything you want and the universe is helping you get it in 2025. Be patient and don't despair. Everything comes at the best time.

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

Happy than ever - Billie Eilish, This will be - Natalie Cole, “we don't play around”, Let me - Zayn, Whatever - Oasis, “Im freeee”, applause, decisions, “all action is reaction”, being latinx or latin descent, depend on others financially, Cuba or Miami, 565, 6, 3, 333, “I used to pray for what I have today”, Simple - Kali Uchis, Jenny from the block - Jennifer Lopez, emigrate-migrate, vision board

Thank you for your time and energy, dear pile 1 ♡

𖤓 Pile 2

cards: eight of pentacles, knight of swords, the moon, knight of cups, the dead

2025 brings you a lot of internal learning. Your guides want to communicate with you. Dive into the spiritual sea of ​​your soul and life purpose. Dare to see what has been hidden for a long time.

You will know and recognize yourself from a deeper perception, you may need to connect with your past lives, understand where certain repetitive patterns come from, your soul needs to be healed and there is no one else who can do it but yourself.

If for a long time you have wanted to buy crystals, tarot cards, learn more about astrology, meditate... 2025 is the perfect year to carry all that out.

Do not set expectations, enter that path with a blank mind. "Reborn." You will become the most authentic version of yourself when you manage to recognize the spirituality in which you live. Do journaling, automatic writing, guided meditations... etc. And remember that healing the soul is also about eating well, surrounding yourself with people who have positive intentions, not being hard on yourself and just taking life easy.

This process will also change your style, you will want to dress differently, your observation of yourself will change completely and everything will be for your highest good. Your spiritual guides can't wait for you to take that big step... "do it, do it baby"

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

Frailty - Violent vira, 18, 8, “save yourself”, third eye chakra, role models, Very special - Chris brown, Nobody - mitski, Conquest of Paradise- Vangelis, watch things on the laptop at 3 am, Chachachá - Josean Log, Blueprint - Tyler Jane, blue light

Thank you for your time and energy, dear pile 2 ♡

𖤓 Pile 3

cards: the chariot, the magician, knight of cups, eight of wands, the moon

“Just take it easy, baby, enjoy it”. Literally just have fun, 2025 is a year where you shouldn't think about things so much, “don't overthink it”. Act like a child, enjoy the moment, don't worry about what might happen. But just because you let yourself be guided by the universe doesn't mean you have to leave your inner voice behind, use your intuition, have faith and trust but act consciously.

DANCE, connect with your inner child. Don't care what people might say, it's your life and you decide how to live it. Dare to challenge the rules you've been forced to follow. Connect more with music, it may be a way for you to heal or simply relax.

Be your best friend, no one will know you as well as you know yourself. Take care of yourself in all aspects, physically, energetically and above all emotionally and mentally. Transform nostalgia into healing potential.

Just as you act when no one is watching, act the same way when everyone is watching; 2025 will be a year of great satisfaction for you, the universe embraces you and pats you on the shoulder so that you take the next step.

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

BTBT - B.I, 222, False starts - Zayn, “trust me, you’re not gonna crash”, butterfly, Felling good - Nina Simone, wings, Alma mia - Natalia lafurcade, cherry, strawberry, makeup for children, 2000s, Deceptacon - Le Tigre, blue shirt with white stripes, party decoration, dancing in the kitchen, rock, music from your childhood or what your dad listened to, Rock you like a hurricane - Scorpions, As it was - Harry Styles, “be a diva”, You & Me - Jennie, Opera House - Cigarettes after sex, Modern Love - David Bowie, The breakfast club

Thank you for your time and energy, dear pile 3 ♡

[fandom-lover2]

So This Is Christmas

Miko brings Christmas to the base

Word Count - 2395

AN: Merry Christmas!

“Miko, what is that?”

I glanced over lazily to the Groundbridge. Bulkhead and his charge had just stepped through the swirling green marvel of science, and said Cybertronian was, for reasons I was sure we were about to discover, holding a tree.

It was comically small, held by two of his digits like a bushy toothpick. The pine, it appeared to be, still had its roots attached and was losing soil with every step the green titan took.

“A Christmas tree, duh.” Miko answered Jack, like he was an idiot.

To be fair, he often times was. But I also wouldn’t have guessed that either so.

I pulled the lolly pop from my mouth. “Why the hell did you bring it here?”

“Dudes!” Miko exclaimed, spreading her hands out and looking at us like we were the bane of her existence. “It’s Christmas! We have to get into the spirit.”

“Halloween was yesterday.” Raf answered, not looking away from the TV, he and Bumblebee deep into a new video game he got for his birthday.

“And we don’t have anything to decorate it with.” Jack added.

“It’ll be dead by Christmas.” I ended, putting the candy ball back in my mouth.

“You all suck.” Despite that, she still continued up the stairs towards us.

Bulkhead was still holding the tree, looking extremely uncomfortable as he tried to not jostle it too much.

“You can put it down Bulk.” I gestured to a spot in the corner of the base, getting comfortable in my seat again.

“What is wrong with you?” Miko started, marching over to us humans. “It’s gonna be Christmas soon. We gotta get this place ready.”

“For who, Santa?” Jack teased, and Raf snickered. I rolled my eyes at them, looking down at my book again.

“Miko, Raf is flying to Mexico for Christmas, Jack’s mom has the day off and I’m going to Texas. No one is gonna be here to celebrate with-”

I cut myself off, the realization slapping me in the face.

Miko was alone for Christmas. Yes, sure she had her host parents, but they weren’t family. I didn’t even know if they celebrated the holiday. They definitely wouldn’t let her pull a 10 foot tree from Canada and stick it in the living room.

I didn’t know what the Japanese traditions for Christmas were, but I understood the seasonal depression that came with this time of year, especially when you were away from family for it. Even in sunny Nevada, it had nothing to do with the weather bringing down people’s moods.

We were her family. And Primus help us all, we would support her.

Snapping my book shut, I stood up with an unnecessary grunt and placed my half sucked lolly pop back in it’s wrapper. “Alright Meeks, you’re right. It’s gonna be Christmas soon and this place is huge. We gotta get started somewhere.”

I wouldn’t trade anything for the memory of how her eyes lit up.

“Why are you on board?” Jack questioned, side eyeing me as if I’d grown a second head.

“Because I’m not The Grinch.” I shot back, beginning down the stairs behind Miko.

It took about an hour and back-up from Bulkhead but we finally had the tree somewhat standing off to the side of the base, its roots messily sawn off and balancing inside an old empty energon cube, desert sand keeping it lopsidedly upright.

“We’ll have to get some ornaments.” I said, taking a couple steps back to size up the challenge.

“Can I make some?” Miko pleaded.

I shrugged, “Do whatever you want.”

“I don’t think I have enough at my house to cover the whole tree.” Jack chimed in, coming to stand beside us.

“Nice of you to join us after the work is done.” I mumbled to him. “I can bring some from my place to. We don’t decorate anymore.”

“I’m sure I can find some too.” Raf spoke up, having walked with Jack.

The four of us stood, admiring our bare tree when Optimus and Ratchet walked into the main area, both deep in conversation as they read over the data pads in their servos.

“What is that?” Ratchet quired, stopping abruptly.

“Christmas tree.” Raf answered.

“Naked Christmas tree.” Jack added.

“And why is in here?” The medic asked, the disgust dripping from his tone. I could imagine the lecture incoming.

“These humans have no respect, turning this base into a junk yard with all their scrap and human nonsense!”

Had to hand it to Optimus, he did a pretty good job of handling the grumpy bot most days. But once this tree started losing pine needles everywhere, not even he would be able to get Ratchet to chill.

“We’re trying to get into the Christmas spirit.” I supplied.

“What’s Christmas?” Arcee asked, having just emerged from the tunnels as well, having been on inventory duty this morning.

“An old fat guy dressed in red breaks into your house and leaves presents or coal, depending on if you’ve been good or bad.” Jack helpfully explained.

The look of horror on each bot’s face was pure comedy and I was sad I didn’t been filming it.

“And that tree allows him to break in?” Bulkhead questioned.

“Kinda. It tells him we want him to.” Raf pushed his glasses on his nose up again.

“Why would you want him to break in?” We’d finally done it. We had Ratchet questioning our sanity for real.

“Duh! Presents!” Miko smirked at the medic, and I briefly wondered if I’d need to warn her to duck.

I glanced over to Optimus and he was visibly going through a crisis. I guess confessing that we were trying to get someone to break into his super secure base would do that to a team leader.

“We’re just kidding.” I decided to finally intercept. “It’s not real. Those are just stories based on an old legend. Really, we decorate a tree and then exchange gifts. It’s just a time to spend with family and friends, to prepare for winter and bring some joy before the hard months ahead.”

This seemed to relax the bots a bit.

Bumblebee spoke, though I did not understand him.

“Right Bee, it’s just a story. Santa won’t actually break in.” Raf answered the scout.

“Why would you have such a story then?” Ratchet snapped, moving to his work station.

“Human nonsense” was pissing him off again. He should expect this stuff from us by now. Just trying to get through Halloween last week had been a mission. You’d think for his own sanity he’d just accept humans were weird.

“Tradition. Legends. Something to keep the magic alive and keep kids full of wonder and innocence.”

To humans, those notions made sense. To him, it was just a cruel trick of sugarcoating the hard truths because the adults didn’t have the guts to tell it how it was.

“It’s a waste of time.” he grumbled, turning his focus onto his consol.

“We haven’t even begun…”

Jack’s warning had him turning back to us with a raised brow.

------

“Y/n.”

I hummed in reply to Optimus, continuing to look out his passenger side window at the desert night rolling past. Optimus was decided he’d drive me home tonight, rather than me catching a ride with one of the others like usual.

“Are you certain that this… tree will not invite anyone to attempt to enter the base?” The Autobot leader questioned, sounding unsure of himself as he asked this.

I fought the smile, turning in my seat to look at his rearview mirror, which he turned towards me as his way of ‘looking’ at me in this form.

“I promise you Optimus. The tree is just a tradition. Nothing and no one is going to be invited by a lit up tree and try to get in.”

“If you are sure.” The Prime replied.

It was silent for a few more minutes, but I could feel Optimus burning to question me on it.

“Many cultures have different origins of Christmas, how it started, what it means. For the most part nowadays it’s just a holiday where people eat good food with friends and family and exchange gifts as a form of expressing gratitude for the love and support shown during the year. The decorating is just part of the deal, getting everyone in the mood to celebrate.”

I could feel Optimus thinking over what I’d said, making it make sense in his mind as he turned what I’d said into Cybertronian terms and trying to match it to any customs he’d had on his home planet. Apparently he came up empty because he didn’t mention any.

“So, Christmas is a time of leisure?” he questioned finally, summarizing what I’d said.

“Yes. A time to relax and look back at the year passed. One final big holiday to give us a push to make it to the end of year before we begin the new one in January.”

Optimus was quiet for a while, only the steady rumble of his engine and his tires rolling across the road to let me know he was still awake.

“Can you describe more about Christmas?” he finally asked.

Still a data clerk at heart, I smiled.

I began telling Optimus all I knew, what traditions from different cultures I could remember, how my family did the holiday as opposed to other families I’d heard of. I chose to not comment when I noticed Optimus was taking the long long way to my house, wanting me to keep talking as long as possible. I would have stayed up all night talking to him if that’s what he wanted.

Finally, after he’d spent an hour aimlessly driving through town, he pulled to a stop at my house.

“And that’s Christmas.” I ended, taking a deep breath.

Optimus remained quiet for a few moments, then released a deep hum, as if I’d dropped some deep wisdom on him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry too much about it.” I leaned over and opened his door, preparing to jump down. “It’s still almost two months away.”

“Plenty of time for Miko to cause all kinds of trouble.”

My laughter echoed down the street as my feet hit the side walk. “Goodnight, Optimus.”

“Goodnight, Little One.”

------

“Merry Christmas!” the four of us cheered, all pulling at the same time.

Four snaps, and four Christmas crackers popped open. We all laughed, opening up our obnoxiously colored cardboard cylinders. We put on the tacky crowns, Raf removing his Santa hat and Miko taking off her antler headband. Jack was wearing tacky plastic glasses with little Santa hats on them. I had an elf’s hat on, and took it off in favor of the crown.

We each wore knitted Christmas sweaters, hand made as a gift from Raf’s mom for ‘his good friends’.

All around us, the base looked like Rudolph threw up. Lights, streamers, tinsel and garland. Who knew Agent Fowler was such a Christmas fanatic?

After he found out about the tree, he’d dropped off crates of supplies. It’d taken hours, and I thought at one point Ratchet might actually act on his threats of violence, but in the end the base was nicely illuminated for the holiday.

Our tree was, to my surprise, still alive and now on the catwalks, lit up and with a crudely drawn (curtesy of Miko) Starscream as the tree topper.

Four different households, plus the military contribution, made up the ornaments. It looked good, if you liked complete and utter chaos. But it had been a fun day decorating it. Optimus had even helped hang a ball or two, lifting Miko so she could place her Star(scream).

Now, the last weekend we had together before Raf and I were set to fly Tuesday, we were having a sleepover and having an early Christmas.

We each took a turn to read the bad jokes, trying not to laugh at how bad they were. Then, we moved on to the games that came with them. And then, dinner.

Mrs. Esquivel and Nurse Darby had provided most of the meal, both happy to contribute to our good time. Agent Fowler had stopped by earlier today to play Santa (yes, he wore the red suit and fake beard and everything. Bulkhead almost swung at the poor guy. Apparently, he’d been having nightmares about Santa coming into the base and leaving coal at his berthroom door) and dropped off enough desserts and treats to last us a lifetime.

The meal was accompanied by laughter, and shared stories of previous failed Christmas stories from different families. The bots stood around, some actually paying attention and asking questions, one pretending he wasn’t.

And finally, to the gift exchange. Somehow, all four of us had gotten stuff for the bots, without actually discussing whether or not we would. Most of them were impractical, and useless (why would Ratchet even want an air freshener Miko?) but they nonetheless showed appreciation, and actually seemed to really enjoy the gifts. Optimus in particular seemed pleased with the mythology and holiday traditions book I got him, questioning when we could begin reading it together.

Miko had gotten Bulk a new CD for their favorite band so they could rock out together. Jack got new, better helmet, so he and Arcee could “go faster”, like they didn’t already. Raf got Bee a poster of a video game they both played often.

The gifts us humans got for each other were stupid, nothing of value or anything we could actually use, but it was fun and they became prized possessions.

After hours of screwing around with our new gifts and playing some Christmas games, I made the popcorn while Jack got the lights and we all cuddled under the blankets, settling in for Home Alone with all the bots seated behind us and invested in the movie.

Slowly, one by one, everyone began to drift off or sneak away to their berthrooms. I could feel the pull of sleep and shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable with Jack on my left shoulder and Raf’s head in my lap.

Then, a gentle servo reached over and caressed my forehead. “Sleep, Little One.”

I looked over to my guardian, a dopey grin on my face. “Goodnight Optimus. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”  

[gothghostiie]

In the spirit of Christmas approaching, and as someone who prefers making gifts to buying them (for many reasons, the main two being that I love making things and forcing ppl to look at them and that I’m fuckin broke lmao), how do u think the 141 lads would react to receiving a gift from their spouse that was made by them? Like a drawing, something they knitted/stitched, or even a sculpture?

using this as my merry Christmas post so

merry Christmas and happy holidays yall<3 I hope ur having a great time and enjoying urself, sending much much love, mwah <3

cw: fluff, gn!reader + bonus what they would gift you

Price is a sucker for that stuff. handknit sweater? he'll wear that thing until it's barely more than a thread. nothing more cozy than something someone handmade with love specifically for him, nothing will ever be as comfy. that goes for anything handmade, he'll treasure it until he can't. nothing makes him feel more loved than anything handmade. hes has a hard time gifting things usually and will flat out ask and get what you asked for, but also add some stuff that he thought you might like. huge fan of practical gifts.

Gaz absolutely adores anything you make yourself, especially decorative items. paintings, stitching, sculptures, little trinkets, adores all of it with his whole heart. will keep everything with him, everything around the house/apartment. and he notices is somethings missing too, absolutely upset until he finds it again. he immediately finds a place for whatever you gave to him. kyle isnt really the one to gift materialistic things (sure, you get some jewelry or those new headphones you wanted) but he always gifts creative dates that he takes you on.

Soap is also a sucker for anything handmade. is a huge, huge fan of handmaking presents himself (he mostly draws, will 100% gift you a drawing too) and loves receiving them just as much. your skill level doesn't matter one bit, whether it be a patchy painting, a wonky mug or a sweater with holes, he'll proudly wear/display it and make sure you know just how much he loves it. as I said, you'll get a drawing - probably a portrait he secretly drew of you while you were doing the most mundane shit ever and he couldn't help but think you're gorgeous.

ghost is a secret christmas lover imo. colourful lights, christmas tree, sinple deco. he doesn't really want/ask for gifts, tells people there's nothing he wants when they ask. but listen: handmake him a balaclava. that man will propose to you on the spot. I'm so serious. appreciates any gifts he gets, especially handmade, keeps saying you shouldn't have, but that will make him fall hard. hes the type of guy where you think youll get a gift card at best, but you get almost anything you wanted but didnt get over the year. that cute mug? that sweater? those earrings? all yours, he remebered.

[irndad]

Christmas Wrapping- a.h.

a/n: i'm back and this is sad (no, really, it's a sad christmas fic. merry crisis!! also writing this made me think of @hotchfiles lol- lari i hope u like it <3 summary: 2 years ago, hotch broke up with a lovely but eccentric woman, and is thinking about this while attending a christmas party.

It’s Christmas, and it’s New York, and Aaron doesn’t want to be here. 

He always feels guilty when he misses Christmases with Jack, and it’s painful to admit that it’s happened more than once. He’d been understanding, but Jack is almost ten now, and the resentment in his voice is subtle, but sometimes Aaron could swear he could hear Haley’s voice in it. 

This dinner wasn’t optional- a director that was above him mentioned that if he wanted his career to advance, he couldn’t afford not to attend events like tonight. Which as far as thiny veiled threats go, is one of the lease concealed ones he’s received in a good bit. 

New York always makes him think of her. Even though their relationship ended two years prior, she sticks in his mind like a song, the melody never quite getting to be grating. She’d loved being called his girlfriend, and Aaron had loved the way she loved it. She was younger than him, by a little over a half-decade. But still, she’d worn it better than he had. He still remembers the sight of her, meeting him at his office (never inside, lest the team tease him endlessly), in her green shoes and multicolored scarf, hair in a clip that had been lazily thrown up, and a smile that dazzled him. 

“Are you ready, Mr. Hotchner?” he remembers her saying, on the other side of a memory lit in warm, glowy lights. 

“I don’t think I can endorse whatever you have planned for me.” He’d replied back in jest at the time. 

The walk from his hotel to the host of the party’s home is cold. He think it might be colder in Quantico, but his memory feels colder and seeps into his bones. 

He might’ve married her, Aaron muses to himself. It all feels so silly to think about. But she was hard not to think about when she was his to ponder over, and she sticks in the back of his mind even after he had made he decision not to. 

She’d been generous with him, the entirety of it all. Gentle with him when he mentioned that he wasn’t ready to tell the team, even if she’d known that he hadn’t waited eight months with Beth. More than that, she was beautiful. not just in her appearance, which was lovely in and of itself, but in how she carried herself. Warm, and kind- Jack would’ve loved her. 

He thinks of her laugh, how she’d picked off all of the salmon roe on their fancy 5 month anniversary dinner, and eaten the meal without it- how she booked Amtraks to visit family, because it gave her more time to read on the way, and no one would make her drive once she got there. How she traced hearts into his wrist when  she could tell he was anxious, read him like a book he never gave anyone permission to see. Loving her was a pleasure, an indulgment. An expensive wine sipped with leisure. 

A honk of a cab shakes him out of his memories, but it doesn’t stick. She’d loved Brooklyn, loud cabs and overpriced brownstones all the same. Sometimes, when doing monotonous paperwork, he’d fantasize about buying her one, a new home in her dream city, Jack and maybe a sister. 

The way it had fallen apart was one of the least proud moments of his life. Because she was different- not polished, or withdrawn in how she carried herself. It was what made her a pleasure to know- she smiled with her whole face, hugged people like she knew they might need it, wore her favorite colors because she wanted to see them whenever she passed a mirror. And he was a behavior analyst. 

“Could I meet your friends?” he’d frozen, when he’d heard it. Her voice was soft, like she was nervous. “I know you were wanting to wait, but you know- you’ve met my graduate school friends. They were thoroughly impressed.”

He didn’t feel impressive to them, and he suspects she might be being kind in this moment. 

“I just think you wouldn’t like them, honey.” He feels rotten lying to her, but the idea of it- of the team knowing that she is the person he loves- it feels like a magnifying glass under the sun. 

“I find that hard to believe, Aaron. And either way, I’m telling you, it would mean the world to me to know them.” 

He’d been backed into a corner, he’ll tell himself, later. This will be a lie, and it’ll be a lie he knows, even as he tells himself it. 

“I just think we shouldn’t do that until we’re sure about eachother.”

The silence that had followed felt chasms wide. She’d been silent in front of him before- when he’d come to her apartment too tired to speak but still needing to be held, and she’d lit a candle and massaged his hands, easing the carpal tunnel from writing paperwork. Or when she held his hand waiting for Jack’s results, when he’d gotten a fever they hadn’t been able to shake. This silence was different. Long and dissapointed, and Aaron felt like he couldn’t breathe under the shame of it. He watched her wipe a single tear from her eye, and grab her novel that had been sitting on his coffee table for the last six months. 

“I can’t make you sure about me, Aaron. I don’t really want to try.” 

It had ended like that. Reminiscing on the whole affair had made the walk feel short, although he could feel a tear welling in his eyes. His body knew her absence, and still does. Even now, walking to this party he doesn’t want to go to, he imagines what it would be like to have the shape of her pressed into the side of it. 

Aaron thinks to himself, before buzzing into the building, that he wasn’t ashamed of her. He’d wondered since the end of the first relationship he’d felt held in, if he left it because he was ashamed. But he wasn’t. He was unwilling to submit to the plain, unmediated joy of her touch. 

He was almost done ruminating on this, until he knocked on the door, and there she was. 

Aaron- he almost wonders if he’s hallucinating, because there she is. And she’s fucking gorgeous. She always is, but she’s so lovely tonight. Maybe it’s the fact he hasn’t seen her in so long, or maybe it’s just that she is that lovely, but the warm light of the party and Christmas Wrapping playing in the background- she looks like vision plucked from a movie. 

She’d kissed him at midnight to this song, once. 

Now, she’s beaming at him, opening her door to welcome him as a stranger into a party. 

“Aaron! Is that you?” it’s a physiological response, the jump in his chest, when she says his name. “My god, it’s so good to see your face!” 

She hugs him, and she still wears the same perfume. Her arms are warm and her face is in his chest, and even though it’s less intimate than all the ways she’s held him before, it feels kind. 

“It’s so good to see you too- what are you doing here?”

It’s a blunt question, but she doesn’t seem to mind, as she ushers him into home. It’s a family apartment, old-school and clearly well-loved.

“My husband liasons with the FBI, actually! His boss said they needed a get-together space, and so we offered up our apartment. It’s cute, right?” she’d walked him right up to a man, wrapped her arms around his middle, before turning back to Hotch. “Peter, honey, this is my old friend, Aaron Hotchner! He works for the BAU.”

Husband. She has a husband. She is a beautiful woman, who he has had the honor to love, to run through the rain while laughing with, who is known and seen and loved by someone else. Hotch takes a look at her, really drinks in the sight. She’s got on a green sweater, new- he can tell by the shape of it. Earrings that seem like they’re gifts, and her hair’s pinned up lazily despite the occasion. 

She looks happy. 

“Oh hey! I’ve heard so much about you- I’m glad you were able to come!”

Peter has a wedding band on hsi left wrist, and Aaron can’t help but analyze him. He’s wearing an ill-fitting dress shirt and slacks, and Hotch thinks he might not have had too much choice in hosting. Owning real-estate is uncommon in New york, and your boss knowing you have a place to use might have been enough to strong arm him into using it. it’s a relative’s clothes, and it’s casual in a way that would suggest ease and friendless. An arm rests on the small of his wife’s waist. 

The whole rest of the night is a blur. Jealousy doesn’t feel like the right word for it- it feels uncanny, to see her so open and warm with a man who so unashamadly loves her. There’s engagement photos on the walls, and Aaron studies them like he’ll be tested. Maybe he’s testing himself. They’re not real photos, just a photobooth they’d gone too, her ring in the foreground of all of them. Peter is a wiry, thin, dark-haired brown-eyed man who is younger than Aaron, and a year older than her. 

He hears someone say they met in high school, and Hotch dimly wonders if he ever had a shot with her. He thinks this, while looking at a photo of the two of them at prom together (but not together). It’s self-comfort, he knows. Because she’d asked him, to take her seriously. 

She’s drinking grape juice, instead of champagne. Aaron thinks he knows why, from the way she runs a gentle hand over her stomach when she thinks no one’s looking, and how Peter’s eyes are always trained on her midsection.

He wishes he didn’t know how to be this observant. 

When the night ends, and Aaron comes back to Quantico, and people asks him how the party went, Aaron tells them it went well, and says that he saw an old friend who he’d missed a great deal out there. 

He figured it’s probably better to admit to loving her in some way, at some point. Even if it’s far, far too late. 

[exonerin]

Picking Up Strays [Obikin | A03 | ✓]

This year, I made a poll to decide what fic I would write for Christmas. Cat!Anakin was the (rightful) winner of this poll. So, I wrote and posted this fic over the previous days leading up to Christmas. This fic is now completed!

(Yes, I'm a day early. My math didn't add up. Merry Christmas if you celebrate, and otherwise a very happy end of December). Also, there's bonus content at the bottom of this post!!

Synopsis:

A mission on Dathomir to find a rumored Sith Temple turns wild when Anakin is transformed into a cat. Obi-Wan, unaware of this transformation, believes Anakin has been kidnapped by the night sisters. Called back to the Temple, he returns with a cat rather than his Padawan.

Anakin is in the unique position to learn his Master cares about him from Obi-Wan's shoulder. He also learns why animals take a shine to his Master. Obi-Wan is very good with animals, Anakin included.

Tags: Top Obi-Wan Kenobi Bottom Anakin Skywalker Praise Kink Cursed Anakin Skywalker Fluff Animal Transformation Anakin Skywalker Is An Adorable Cat (According To Obi-Wan) Mutual Masturbation

(Also, there's no beastiality. I realize I never specified that)

The boy refused to look him in the eye, staunchly turning his head when Sidious tried to catch his gaze.

It was infuriating.

If the boy tossed him one more scornful side-eye, pouting like Sidious had killed his family -- wasn't that an ironic observation? -- Sidious would do something he would regret.

Kenobi sat by the boy's side, clutching the boy's hand. Or the boy clutched Kenobi's hand. Sidious couldn't tell, and he really didn't care. There was no explanation for anything that had happened.

When they had parted, the boy had looked at him with soulful eyes, pouting that he couldn't reveal where he was sent next. Sidious had noted that once the boy was his apprentice, he would have to clarify that one should never mention one was sent on a secret mission.

The naivety served him well currently, though.

Yet, the boy wouldn't be his apprentice now. No, a decade of hard work was ruined by an event Sidious wasn't part of. The boy refused his calls and turned his invitations down. When Sidious tried to visit the Jedi's temple, the guards turned him away, too.

The humiliation burning in his stomach was a powerful emotion that would help him snap Kenobi's and Skywalker's necks instantly. It was only the reminder that he was more powerful than they could imagine that kept him in his seat.

As a last-ditch attempt to talk to the boy, he had engineered peace talks with the Separatists. Skywalker and Kenobi were the obvious Jedi representation after Sidious had dropped a few hints.

He hadn't seen the boy since he was sent on a secret mission, but he had returned with new ears. He also purred when Kenobi grabbed his thigh, and it had taken all of Sidious' decennia of training to refrain from lashing out.

They were disgusting. Everything about this farce was wrong.

Amidala had wiggled her way into these negotiations, and the Bonteri wench was making fast friends with her. No, this was not going according to Sidious' plans at all.

He could adapt, though. His plans were as flexible as his mind. He would prevail here. Whatever perceived evil misdeed had the boy in such a tizzy, he would smoothen out. He had done so before.

During a break in a meeting that strayed further and further from his plans, he finally intercepted the boy. The boy had remained glued to Kenobi's side throughout the meeting. As a precaution, Sidious had volunteered Kenobi to show the appointed Separatist negotiators the coffee area.

"Anakin," he called out to Anakin, pitching his voice grandfatherly. The boy always reacted well to his warm voice.

Now, the boy jumped a foot in the air, twisted, and hissed.

He hissed at Sidious.

This revealed two sharp incisors.

Sidious regained his composure quickly, forcing his expression to remain placid.

"Anakin, would you mind escorting this old man to the restroom?" he asked.

"No," Anakin refused.

Movement in Sidious' periphery caught his attention. A tail swished in a slow pattern, reminding Sidious of a predator eyeing its prey. This was a warning -- or perhaps a threat.

"No?" he echoed dumbly.

He knew people watched, their shock palpable in the air to a Force-sensitive.

"No," the boy repeated smugly. "I will not."

Then, he turned around and hurried in the direction Kenobi had taken the Separatist representatives, almost tripping over his feet and tail in his eagerness.

This wasn't supposed to happen. For the first time since Sidious had stood over his Master's corpse, he felt ill-equipped to deal with a situation.

The remainder of the day went worse, all his scheming amounting to nothing. Skywalker and Kenobi still held hands as they left the Senate Rotunda, not even trying to be subtle.

It didn't matter. Sidious would find a way. He always did. He would also get his revenge for the utter humiliation of picking Kenobi over his most generous offer. The Jedi were weak; he would show them true power.

When he returned to his office, his nose itched. Irritated, he slumped in his seat, brushing animal hair from the furniture futily.

Did the boy shed in Sidious' office?

Oh, this was a disgrace. Sidious sneezed multiple times in succession, a headache building above his nose. His revenge would be sweet.

[duckieduccss]

🎄MERY CHRISTMAS!!!🎄

IM BACK!!! Did ya miss me??

Ive returned once again lol. That and ive brought something special with me this time. Something wholesome too (just Godzilla with their 2 adorable children for a typical christmas photo). I also made this as a sorta ‘thank you’ gift to everyone who’s been supportive of what ive done this whole year and of course making an honorable mention to my hyperfixation of Godzilla that’s made me the happiest in light of whatever life might throw at me. ^^

I did challenge myself at trying an attempt at painting again (idk i think I might’ve improved slightly ^^:). But also i guess it could be something i could work towards learning more/improving as a New Year’s Resolution :D

[Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays to those who celebrate!!!]

[softpeetzone]

i love my longneck son

[lissdiary]

during the holidays, it was tradition to participate in secret santa with the class. you reached into the basket, picking a folded piece of paper with one of your classmate’s name on it. you hoped it was katsuki’s name, but unfortunately it wasn’t. it was mina’s name on the paper, and while you absolutely adore her you had hope it would’ve been him.

you noticed denki handing the basket to katsuki to grab a paper. he unfolded it and hid in his pocket, you couldn’t help but wonder who’s name was on his paper. you had a crush on katsuki for a few months now and when your friends began teasing the both of you, it lead to you slowly getting to know another. you both grew a close bond, causing your crush on him to grow more and more. that same night, you were walking to your dorm when you noticed katsuki opening his door, leaving it slightly open. it was a sign for you to come in, a common thing the two of you do when you wanna talk to each other.

you knock twice before you opened the door, spotting the blonde cleaning his desk. “hey kats, whatcha doing?” you walked up behind him, catching him off guard. he jumped to the sudden question, putting whatever was on his desk away. “nothin, nun of yer’ business.” he closed his drawer, turning around to look at you. “didn’t look like nothing to me, was that for your secret santa?” you teased him, causing him to roll his eyes and sit on his bed. you followed, sitting beside him. “tch, no. i’m not doin’ that.” he spat out. you knew katsuki wasn’t the brightest or most spirited person, but you had hope he would’ve participated if your name was on his paper. guess not.

the next day, you asked katsuki to accompany you to go shopping. you wanted to grab a few things for yourself, but also for mina. you instantly knew what to get her, a gift she’d happily accept. katsuki followed you around like a pup, putting on an act as if he didn’t enjoy it.

you stumbled upon a store that had cute fashionable clothes that appeared to look like mina’s style. you grabbed a couple shirts and skirts and went upfront to pay. at the counter, there was a display of phone charms. you already had one but the color was wearing off and it was hanging on by a thread. you grabbed one of the phone charms to look at it closer, but ended up putting it back since you already have one. katsuki took a mental note of this, looking at your phone charm then looking at the new more detailed one. he knew you liked stuff like that, plus it was time for a new one. after a while, you both decided to head back to the dorms in order to prepare mina’s gift.

katsuki notices everything about you, your favorite coffee order, the way your perfume smells, whether you prefer gold or silver, your favorite flower, and your favorite season.

as christmas came by, your gift was nicely wrapped topped with nice lacy ribbon. you sat on the couch, waiting for secret santa to commence. you noticed katsuki was sitting across from you with his hands in his pockets, a slight angry pout on his face. when it was your turn, you grabbed your gift and walked over to mina. “merry christmas!” she took the gift in her hands, opening it excitedly. she squealed, “aw thank you soo much, yn! i love it!” she stood up from her seat to give you hug. you sat back down and waited for your gift.

after it was over, you realized you didn’t receive a gift this year. “oh, yn doesn’t have a gift? did someone forget?..” you thought to yourself, maybe someone had forgotten to get a gift, or forgotten to put your name in the basket. you went upstairs to your dorm, teary eyed at the fact that someone forgot about you.

you noticed katsuki’s door was slightly open again, you knocked twice before entering. katsuki was sitting on his bed, a gift basket beside him. he still had his typical angry pout on his face, but this time he looked nervous. “merry christmas”, he mumbled looking away from you. “kats? what is this?” you walked up to the basket, quickly noticing how it was filled with everything you love or recently mentioned to him. “ts for you, idiot. i was your secret santa.” you looked at him with tears in your eyes, giving him the biggest hug.

you felt so relieved to know that someone got you a gift, that katsuki had gotten you a gift. “thank you, kats.” you got off of him to look at the basket, you immediately noticed the phone charm. “did you seriously go back just to get this for me?” you picked it up, removing the old one to replace it. “tch, noticed yer old one was all worn out, thought it was time for a new one. yer welcome.” your heart jumped, you never realized how much he truly payed attention to you. katsuki had went out of his way to get everything for you, on top of that decorating it to your liking. “thank you kats.”

“yea whatever.” he mumbled.

christmas couldn’t have gotten any better.

sweet request from @teddi1423 ♡!

— sorry if i’m lagging on reqs, i’ve been so busy this whole week & will continue to be until next week ! i promise to publish soon !

[vettelsdarling]

𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐞

Lissie note… Here’s the second winner of the poll. I stupidly duplicated him💀 but just tallied those numbers together. Also yes, I’m trying out new layouts rn so please lmk if this looks great or not<3

Summary: A photographer from the heart of NYC has been in a low-key relationship with Lando Norris for a while now…

————

Things to note:

Reader is a menace tbh

Lando and reader are separated by 2 yrs

Reader is a known photographer (just not famous yk)

————

Pairing: Lando Norris x Photographer!Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Playlist recommendations: 𝐋𝐍𝟒, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗

Taglist: @drugged-kitkat, @ophcelia, @darleneslane, @allwaysalleyway, @littlesatanicassholebitch

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yourusername What a great day to change my pfp on my Twitter😮‍💨

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yourbestfriend Isn’t that the camera I got you last Christmas?

yourusername Merry Christmas ig

yourbestfriend The enthusiasm🥰

yourusername WOW!?!???!!!! IT REALLY IS THE CAMERA YOU GAVE ME LAST YEAR AHHH I STILL HAVE IT CAUSE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

yourbestfriend Nah now it doesn’t feel genuine😒

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landonorris

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Tagged: yourusername, mclaren

landonorris What’s up 2023?🧡

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user1 The photos are better this year wtf😮‍💨

user2 He looks amazing regardless

user3 YESSS IT’S BACKKK LET’S GOO🧡🧡🧡

yourusername Ty for the tag, great working w/ you

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user4 Ty for blessing Lando’s face

user5 She’s a magician with a camera😩

user6 Danny isn’t racing this yr right?😞

user7 Yeah he isn’t😭😭😭

user8 Ugh MCLAREN WHYYY

user9 I’m manifesting🫡

user10 Actually so delulu I made a mood board consisting ONLY of Lando😃

user11 At least you’re self aware💀

Twitter

yourusername

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Tagged: landonorris, mclaren

yourusername Tbh I feel kinda bad for knowing next to NOTHING abt f1 but I’ll just do my job and whatever to pay rent in New York🤡 Last resort is the pole (not position😞)

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yourbestfriend 💀

yourusername Are you implying I wouldn’t be a great pole dancer?🤨

yourbestfriend Honestly? Yeah🥰

yourusername Bitch.

landonorris I didn’t even realize you’d take this many pics

yourusername Welcome to your new life (I sound and look like a fucking stalker rn wtaf)

yourfriend WTF YOU NEVER SAID YOU PHOTOGRAPHED LANDO NORRIS????

yourusername Surprise!!😻

landonorris

Liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,194,290 others

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landonorris Checking out the credentials🤨

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yourusername At least I’m better than you🥰

landonorris You make a fair point… it’s your job😒

user1 Bffr rn😭

user2 Wdym? it’s his designated photographer. I think she’s a part of the team cause McLaren hired her

user1 Wait really?

user2 …yeah💀

user3 The way I love this new photographer😩

user4 Yeah she’s good. She’s well known in the photography world as one of the best in nyc

user3 Wtf that’s such an honor

user5 IS THAT HER??? 10 bucks they’re dating but not telling us

user6 Nah that’s too quick💀 They JUST hired her like this year.

user7 I’m excited for her shots in Miami

user8 I’ve seen some of her stuff at her gallery. Some of it sells for more than a month’s salary

user9 Her instagram is private😔💔

user10 It’s always been😭😭😭

f1gossip

5,367 likes

f1gossip New beau, Lando?👀

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user1 HUH WHAT😃

user2 They are just friends they are just friends they are just friends

user3 stfu what is this😭

user4 That looks a lot like yourusername

user5 💀

yourusername

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yourusername Luckily this account is private💪 Hope they don’t find my very not private Twitter💀

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yourbestfriend Good luck😭

yourusername ty, I will not need it😩

landonorris what is this Twitter you speak of🤨🤨🤨

yourusername Nothing👽

f1gossip

2,378 likes

f1gossip Looks like Lando’s girl has Twitter👀

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user1 Wtaf I love her

user2 Ever wondered she might not want it leaked💀

yourusername Oh… wow…😐

user3 OFMHSK IT’S YOU

yourusername In all my glory😮‍💨🔥

user4 I love how she’s literally just like everyone else and not some snob😭

lando.jpg

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landonorris Who would’ve thought it was possible to post your own paparazzi photos?!

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yourusername Holy shit, this is revolutionary🤯

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yourusername Why don’t the media just hire me to take better pics of us🤡🤡

landonorris Ikr

user1 Nah I’m loving this

user2 They are really handing the media’s ass on a silver plate💀💀💀

user3 This is pure gold😭

user4 I thought Kika and Pierre were my fav but Lando and her just raised the bar

user5 Honestly lmao

user6 why aren’t more wags like this

user7 Publicity probs

user8 Publicity doesn't make sense because she’d fear it too..?

user7 Nah I actually don’t think she cares very much💀

user9 You guys keep doing you, this is amazing.

yourusername Hell yeah😩

Twitter

yourusername

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yourusername We’ve been around👯‍♀️

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yourbestfriend FUCK YEAH WE HAVE

yourusername Ugh we should travel together sometime

yourbestfriend We should

landonorris Where was my invite?

yourusername Nonexistent.

landonorris Wow. I feel so insulted.

yourusername

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yourusername Welcome to my Instagram, peasants. Above, you can see a little bit of everything I serve on here (and yes, I do SERVE).

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yourbestfriend Hot

yourusername I know

landonorris ❤️

yourusername tmrw is our 1 yr anniversary.

landonorris Did you think I forgot?

yourusername Yes

landonorris You’re not wrong…

user1 1 YEAR WHAT????

user2 They hid it for so long😭

user3 I’ve been waiting ages to finally gain access to her Instagram

yourusername thank you, loyal plebe.

user4 2nd pic is me during exam season❤️

user5 Literally same

user6 She’s living my dream fr

yourusername I must be very powerful, then

user7 Skin care routine???

yourusername Random shit from drugstores

user8 She’s so down to earth but classy in a funny way. How tf do I even explain her😭

yourusername I’m an enigma

user9 Lando is lucky wtf

yourusername Right?

user10 No but you and Lando compliment each other so well

yourusername Ty<3

landonorris

Liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 1,037,278 others

Tagged: yourusername

landonorris For a whole year, you’ve given me everything I’ve ever needed. A fun and breezy outlook on life. You’re just amazing. I love you and I didn’t forget about today❤️

Comments have been limited

yourusername I’ll let it go for today. Only because I love you too❤️

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maxverstappen1 Congrats you guys👏

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yourbestfriend Feels like yesterday I told you how to get her attention😔

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carlossainz55 Congratulations guys, enjoy yourselves today🍾

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𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻…

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩! (𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙙𝙢𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨: 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧(𝙨) 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚(𝙨) 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣.)

*Please note that liking the taglist will not put you on it!

[cosmerelists]

Hallmark Christmas Movies: But Make It Cosmere

Merry Christmas! I wasn't planning on doing a bunch of Christmas lists this year, but, well, the ideas kept coming! From now until Christmas Eve, I hope you'll enjoy a series of Cosmere Christmas Specials, starting with this one.

If you love a cheesy Hallmark (or Netflix or whatever) Christmas movies, then you'd probably enjoy these Cosmere-themed knockoffs too!

1. A Chouta Christmas

A high-powered Thaylen merchant woman goes to a small Herdazian town on business over the holidays. There, she meets a small-town chouta salesman who may help her find her Christmas spirit--and a Christmas romance.

2. Love, Really

In a series of love stories from all over Nalthis, various couples find love or heartbreak over the holiday season: a man who has reached the Third Heightening falls in love with a drab woman; one of the Returned Gods falls for a handsome petitioner; an Idrian widower cautiously begins dating again; and even the God-King himself might start dating his wife.

3. The Prime Aqasix Switch

When the Prime Aqasix of Azir meets a humble accountant who looks just like him, the two of them hatch a holiday plan to switch lives just for a couple of days, right before Christmas.

4. The Mistborn Before Christmas

A Mistborn man is magically transported to modern-day Scadrial by a witch, who tells him that he must complete a mysterious quest by Christmas day. In modern-day Scadrial, the Mistborn meets a young woman who has given up on romance--at least until she meets this dashing and powerful stranger from the past.

5 The Vacation

Two women--one from Elantris and one from Arelon--decide to switch homes in order to take a much-needed Christmas vacation. While living in each other's houses, they might just find themselves discovering new love along the way.

6. A Christmas Duke

On Lumar, a Duke's son is due to ascend to his father's position--only there are rumors that he plans to abdicate. He also has a reputation of being an irrepressible ladies' man. A journalist, determined to get the real story, sneaks into the Duke's mansion by posing as a gardener...but upon meting the Duke's son, she might just find love instead.

7. Cowboy Gentlemen

A woman in Elendel is determined to save her father's cowboy-themed bar, which is threatening to close: right before Christmas! Her plan is to bring in a troupe of sexy cowboys to perform...unaware that she also might be bringing in the cowboy of her dreams.

8. Hot Stick

In the cold Frostlands of Roshar, a woman places a magical scarf on a snowman...unknowingly bringing one of its arms to life. This newly human (and super hot) former stick may just be the flame she's been looking for...only there won't be any actual flames involved. This hot stick HATES fire.

[icallhimjoey]

Can we have a sweet and soft Christmas eve with Joey? Just the two of us? pretty please

this was requested at the perfect time, so thank you, and merry christmas my sluts! Wordcount: 1.7K

---

Still Love Me?

"I'm sorry, I'm not crying because I'm upset, d-don't worry, I just..."

You don't get like this very often. Usually, trying to be extra affectionate makes you scrunch your nose up, makes you squirm and laugh and cringe. Makes you push him away, not taking the extra hugs and kisses seriously at all.

Joe doesn't mind.

"What's wrong?"

It's actually nice to not always feel the need to give you more. To not be afraid that maybe you'd be upset after not immediately coming over to hug and kiss you when he'd walk in at the end of the day.

But something's different tonight.

It's likely the holiday stress that's getting to you. Nothing a pair of extra affectionate warm embracing arms won't fix.

"I thought we had more cheese, but all we've got left is this..."

You suppress a sob.

Unsuccessfully.

Joe knows the tears are only there because all of everything has come together for the perfect storm, and you're just about ready to fall apart.

It's sort of cute that it's a lack of cheese that does it, and Joe's secretly glad it's not something that he'd done or said that got you. That it's not his fault, and that he doesn't have to apologise over something unimportant.

It's fine, though, the crying.

Joe had been ready for it.

He's got steady hands and is prepared to catch whatever needs catching. Knows how to put you back together just fine.

"Why did I do this? I've got to stop sneaking things, I– look, there's no... this is all we've got..."

You've got family coming over tomorrow, and it's the first year that your place is the spot for the big get together. It's nerve-racking in new ways you didn't know existed before because you're bringing both sets of parents in, and all you want to do is make the family proud.

Be the perfect daughter.

Have the stepmothers and stepdads get along as well as all of the divorced people. All of the siblings. Step-siblings.

Fuck, there's too many people coming over.

Could you still cancel, do you think?

You just... you just want Christmas be wholesome, and festive, and cosy, full of laughter and love and just... have it be perfect.

It's almost become a bit of a passion project, and it's quite literally driven you mad.

Well. Driven you to tears, at least.

Joe looks over and sees you hold a little block of brie cheese. It's not much, and it's got a bite taken out of it.

"Wait, did you–" Joe's already smiling, because what the fuck is he looking at right now? His girlfriend's got tears in her eyes and is stood in front of the opened fridge door, holding a bit of French cheese that has teeth marks in.

Surely, you are able to imagine what this looks like from his point of view.

It's at least a little funny.

But another sob wracks from your chest and all Joe can do is step closer and wrap arms around your shaking frame.

He's allowed to laugh as he does so.

"I didn't know- I thought we had more, b-but this was all we have, and I snuck a bite last night, because I– I was peckish and just wanted a little something, and–"

"Hey," Joe leans back and gets your face in both his hands. He's still smiling. Can't not smile, because this is ridiculous, but you also look very cute. Red nose. Fat tears stuck in your eyelashes. The colour of your eyes about ten times brighter because of the unshed ones.

"We'll serve 'em dry crackers, and they'll fucking take what they're given, all right?"

You pout and hold up the evidence of your late-night-snack-run in your own kitchen from the night before. It's right in between your faces and gives Joe a chance to really see the cause of the outburst.

"Still love me?"

Joe looks at the brie a second and then lurches forward with a growl, sinking teeth into the soft cheese for a bite of his own.

"Still love you." he replies, mouth full of cheese.

You can't help the choking laugh, head cocking to the side as a defeated soft chuckle leaves you. It only makes Joe want to grab hold of you tighter.

"Hmm," Joe hums, now chewing, and he frowns. "This is good. We should–" he can't finish the sentence without laughing, knowing it's likely the wrong thing to say, but he's already started the sentence. You get a good eyeful of the cheese in his mouth, in between his teeth. "We should get more of this."

Well, you can't.

Hence the crying.

You pout once more and then groan. It's so stupid, you're well aware. You just need a bit of sleep. Your family won't hate you because there's no cheese.

And if anything, you could throw it into the group chat and are sure that at least three people have some brie to bring along tomorrow.

You really are just very tired.

"Tell you what," Joe says, now taking the little piece of cheese from your fingers, one arm still around you. "We'll finish this, have some hot chocolate and just... relax. Watch a Christmas film. Tomorrow is tomorrow and tonight is tonight, you've done enough prepping and it'll all be fine–"

"Perfect." you correct.

It's important that everything will be perfect.

"It'll all be perfect." Joe coos, voice smooth like butter.

You sniff and look at him a moment. He's still chewing. Smiling. Joe's being all playful and it's reminding you of why you love him so much. Glancing into the living room, you know Joe's right. Everything's ready. Everything's done.

It's Christmas Eve.

"Calm before the storm." you sigh, patting Joe where you're holding onto him. Then lower down, quick touch to the bum. Joe easily lets you.

"Calm before the storm." he confirms before you let go of each other. You move to collect yourself, wiping fingers below your eyes, and Joe opens a cupboard to get to mugs out and says, "And I'll go get extra cheese tomorrow, it'll be fine."

You're about to protest. Tell him that the shop you usually go to won't be open. It'll be Christmas. And everyone's stocked up already. Shelves are empty all over. But Joe sees it across your face before you can say anything and adds, "I'll find some, don't worry about it."

And so you don't.

You accept a kiss to your temple, a deep inhale of your hair and you tilt your head for a kiss on the lips. A quiet thank you.

After a squeeze of your arm, Joe gets started on the hot chocolate and you decide to see if there's anything good on TV or if it'll be Netflix for the night.

Before you've been able to make a choice, you hear mugs being filled and you scurry back into the kitchen. You get to the fridge before Joe does, which was the plan. You find the can of squirty cream amongst all of the food and drink - your fridge has never been this full. It's almost triggeringly full; so much food, yet so little cheese.

It takes you too long, and Joe joins to look over your shoulder, to see if he can spot it before you do.

He doesn't.

You find it and giggle excitedly, a little delirious (you've gone mad, remember?) as you shake it with a wild arm. Your demeanor is the opposite of what it was minute earlier.

No tears. Just manic laughter.

Makes Joe laugh just the same. His girlfriend's gone insane and, if he's honest, he's kind of into it.

You spray some cream into both mugs that Joe's filled with hot chocolate, and before you place it back into the fridge, you shake the can again.

"You just said you should stop sneaking things," Joe isn't exactly trying to stop you, but he knows what you're about to do. Feels like it's worth saying something, to maybe prevent a further break down.

It's of no use, though.

His comment makes you glance him pointed a look. It's ridiculous of him to assume you'd been serious. Of course you're not going to stop sneaking things. He doesn't see the deadpan stare you give him because he's busy placing mini marshmallows onto your drinks, but despite the advice, you go for it anyway.

You tip your head back and spray some of the cream directly into your mouth.

"My God," Joe says when you let it go for a little too long, and when he looks, he barks a laugh.

You've overdone it.

It's too much.

Well, is it ever too much? Not really. But it doesn't fit into your mouth and thus there's a problem. This is going to be messy.

With your head still tilted back, you release a small sound of panic at the inability to close your mouth and raise a cupped hand, ready to catch whatever is going to spill.

But Joe knows just the perfect fix, and he's quick.

Before you know what's happening, your boyfriend's got his hand on the back of your neck, digging in strong fingers and guiding your head forward.

Just before whatever your lips can't curl around is about to slide down your chin, Joe's mouthing at it and manages to get it all, tongue licking and lips closing around your opened ones.

What follows is a weird, full-cheeked sticky, creamy, sugary kiss that has you giggling into each others mouths.

It's still messy, but you'd easily do this again. Would it be too obvious if you just went for an insane mouthful once more?

Joe pulls back, sees he's missed a bit and doesn't hesitate to lick at the corner of your mouth, making you shriek with your mouth closed, pushing him away.

"You're gross," you say fondly after swallowing.

He's also adorably sweet, but he doesn't need telling.

Joe lets his head bobble back a little as he silently laughs, wiping at his own mouth with the back of his hand, glad to have been of service.

"Yea? Still love me?"

Tomorrow's going to be fine.

There's no cheese but for the little chunk you're about to share. It'll likely be all gone if you both have a single cracker with some on.

And there probably also won't be any squirty cream left, what with your plan to bring the can over to the sofa for top-ups after you've eaten all of it off. Or, you know, after you've sprayed more of it into your mouth just so Joe can eat it out of there again.

You families can have hot chocolate without any, and Joe's right. They'll fucking take what they'll be given and be grateful.

Or, Joe can find some tomorrow.

Somewhere.

Whatever.

You're no longer fussed.

It's Christmas. Christmas Eve.

"Still love you." you beam, because you do.

You really, really do.

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @chrissymjstan, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[beenbaanbuun]

first christmas with san

this man just screams over the top christmas to me

if you’re the same as him, it’s perfect! the two of you can giggle together as you decorate your tree and have little flour fights as you bake a gingerbread house

if you’re not, good luck! he can and will force you to make new traditions with him that he is sure to make a note of so you can carry them on for the rest of your christmases together

incredibly sentimental about tree ornaments

“oh my god, baby,” he almost yells as he pulls out a simple glass bauble, “i got this one last year at that christmas market i was telling you about, remember?”

you did remember… how could you forget when throughout the entire year he’d been buzzing about wanting to take you to the christmas market

and when he finally does, a bauble isn’t the only thing you two get

in fact, san made sure to study every single stall

he studied you too and the moment your eyes rested on an ornament for more than a few seconds, it was soon in his hands being paid for

and the food there? he makes sure that the two of you try a little bit of something from each and every stall…

you’re so full by the end of the day that the two of you have to take a nap when you get home

a nap in your new christmas bedding, mind you

san insisted on buying you some, as well as some brand new matching pyjamas

although the pyjamas stay unworn and unseen by you until at least christmas eve

he wraps them in pretty paper and presents them to you on christmas eve

and obviously there’s the christmas photoshoot in front of the tree in your pyjamas because san insists that it wouldn’t be christmas without it

proudly shares the photo with every single person he knows because they have to know just how much he loves celebrating the holiday season with you

also makes sure you take a photo under the mistletoe that he hung in the doorway

he takes a lot of those photos actually…

“no, that one wasn’t perfect,” he frowns, “guess you’ll just have to kiss me again!”

most of those don’t get sent to people

he got a little carried away

carries you to bed promptly at 9pm because ‘santa won’t come if we’re not in bed!’

he doesn’t say anything when you point out that all your gifts are already under the tree

cuddles you close all night because he’s so excited and he just needs to squeeze something!

you try and wriggle away at numerous points in the night but san doesn’t have those muscles for nothing

there is no escape

safe to you when you wake up in the morning you have a suspiciously san shaped lump on top of you

grumbles when you try to wake him up but then you wish him a merry christmas and he wakes up quicker than you’ve ever seen him wake up before

“oh my god,” he shouts as he practically falls out of bed, dragging you with him, “come on! no time to waste, baby.”

you let him drag your tired body to the living room where he passes you gift after gift and waiting for you to open them

they get more elaborate and expensive and they go on, and you get a pant in your chest when you realise that the gifts you got for him are nothing in comparison

he assures you it’s fine with his words, and then reassures you with his excited reaction to each and every gift he unwraps

“baby, it’s perfect!” “it’s just a jumper…” “yeah but it’s a really nice jumper!”

you two try and cook dinner together

half way through you end up checking if any of your local take outs are open

they’re not… you end up eating whatever you can salvage from the nightmare of a dinner the two of you had managed to make

a bit of dry turkey and a few underdone yet somehow simultaneously burnt carrots never hurt anyone…

you decide to leave the clearing up until later

you spend most of the afternoon curled up on the sofa watching whatever shitty movies you can find

and you spend the entirety of each movie picking through the plot holes and guessing how it’s going to end

you tell him you love him before you kiss him under the mistletoe on your way to bed

he tells you he loves you too

[xsezzie]

Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas @chibimochii !!! I am your @squealing-santa this year~!

I finally got to write for these two and I really hope you enjoy it. Also my first time participating in this event so it was interesting to try, I hope did okay!

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: It's tickling???

AO3 Post

Neuvillette is eager to spend some of the festive season with Wriothesely this year... although Neuvillette has received some questionable and unsightly attire.

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

“What’s this?”

Wriothesely stared at the rare visitor in front of him. His serious and blank expression heavily contrasted the red and white hat atop his head.

“Are you aware of the tradition of Christmas, Wriothesely?” As Neuvillette asked, he leaned forward against the Duke’s desk, bell on his hat jingling, as if anticipating the answer like a child who can’t wait.

Cute.

“Yes, I’m aware… who put this hat on you?”

“Sedene did, she said I should try and be more festive this year.”

Wriothesely chuckled, “I think you have been plenty festive all the years you’ve decided to celebrate.”

“Well this year is… different.

“How so?”

“Come to the surface.”

And so, this is how Wriothesely found himself spending the week of Christmas in the Palais. Sitting on Neuvillette’s couch, tea in hand, cold rain howling outside.

“Would you like one of these ‘ugly’ Christmas sweaters that Clorinde purchased for everyone?”

They were indeed ugly, but in a cute way. 

“I am most certainly not wearing one of those, I know you will try and take a picture.” The Duke glared playfully at Neuvillette.

“Come now, you will get cold.”

“Then light the fireplace!”

“I… do not want to.”

“You’re the *Hydro* Sovereign, the fire isn’t going to do anything to you.” Wriothesely couldn’t help but laugh to himself, “Seriously though, you control this rain don’t you? Why is it so bad tonight? Is something wrong?”

Neuvillette signed, “Yes, something is terribly wrong… You will not wear this ugly sweater.”

“Oh ha-ha, very funny… why don’t you wear the sweater, hmm?

“It… clashes with my robes.” 

“That is the point isn’t it? It’s ugly and it needs to look as bad as possible. Come here, I will help you.”

Neuvillette looks at Wriothesely with wide eyes as he calmly approaches, “N-No I can do this myself! I am not a child…”

The smirk on the Duke’s face said he had other ideas though, easily tugging on Neuvillette’s coattail to stop him from moving away and pulling him into his muscular arms.

“Not this again!” The Iudex stifled a laugh.

“Not what again? Whatever could be wrong, dear Sovereign?” 

“Y-You are going to do that tickle thing to me again aren’t you!? Everytime you think I am being shy or not compliant with your schemes…” 

Wriothesely chuckled and easily dragged him to the couch, gently pinning him down and trying to undo the buttons of his coat, “Well I wouldn’t be doing the ‘tickle thing’ if you would just wear the sweater. Come on, I will buy my own if you put this one on.”

“W-Whehey are you like this!?”

“Honestly, it is rather amusing to watch your ears turn red when you are embarrassed. Just look at them.”

The Duke makes a point by softly pinching the tips of Neuvillette’s pointy ears, making him let out a small uncharacteristic squeak. “Stohohop!”

Wriothesely manages to get the robe off with minimal effort, mainly because he knows Neuvillette is secretly enjoying this. This affection between the two, as well as secret visits has become more common recently, and neither is complaining. These meetings have allowed Wriothesely to get to know the new leader of the nation in a more intimate setting… including the fact that he is ticklish.

“Ah you love it, now put this sweater on before I tickle you more.”

“N-Nohohohoo!!”

“Alright then you leave me no choice…”

Wriothesely prepares one sleeve of the sweater and pulls Neuvillette’s arm up, looping it into the hole and successfully getting it through. Not that the Chief Justice is putting up much of a fight as he appears to be in some sort of giggle fit at this point of the absurdity of the situation, this allows him to easily get the other arm into its sleeve as well… that just leaves his head.

“I swear I am going to get someone to cut your hair sometime… it’s so damn long…”

Neuvillette huffs in amusement, “I quite like my long hair, as do the Melusine’s… and I know you do as well…” 

That rare knowing smile, he will pay for this.

Wriothesely then realises he has Neuvillette in a pretty good restraint, his arms in the sweater above his head, “I think you require more tickling for Christmas, O’ Hydro Dragon~”

No response could be given apart from a surprised shout followed by a wheezy laugh as Wriothesely digs his fingertips into Neuvillette’s armpits, causing him to squirm and desperately pull his trapped arms down.

“Nahahahahahaa Wriotheseheheheheheheeellyyy!!!”

“Sorry not sorry, sir.”

His fingers travel down Neuvillette’s delicate ribs, making him kick wildly behind the Duke’s back, kneeing him a couple times.

“Ouch, come on now is such violence necessary? I am only doing the ‘tickle thing’ you know?” The smirk was audible in his voice.

“Hhahahahaha you d-deserve ihihihihihihiiit stahahahahahahaap!!!” Neuvillette’s wheezing laughter only made Wriothesely chuckle and begin to dance his fingers down his sides now, causing the hydro wielder to writhe beneath him even more. 

“NOOOHOHO!!!!”

“Are you going to wear the sweater?”

“N-Nohohoho you wear ihihihit!”

“Ah, I guess more tickles for you then!”

And so the Duke returned to tickling Neuvillette’s exposed armpits, driving him nearly insane at this point. He quite liked the look of the Iudex when he was laughing and free of worry. The slight permanent frown he seems to always wear is replaced with a beet red face and tears of laughter beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. He honestly looks as if he might be enjoying this a little.

Wriothesely decides he doesn’t want Neuvillette to pass out and stops his tickling, taking the exhausted man and sitting him upright, legs across his lap. As Neuvillette recovers from the ordeal, he finds the sweater being forced over his head finally and Wriothesely adjusts it and his hair so he is snug.

“Gotcha~”

Neuvillette doesn’t even protest, nor does he want to. He rests his head against the younger man's chest, feeling warm and comfortable as he gently rubs his back to help him come down from the ticklish high.

“Not a word to anyone… especially the Melusines…”

“Don’t worry, this was too precious for me to want to share with anyone but you.”

“Hah. Trying to butter me up now?” Neuvillette chuckles.

“I will save that for tomorrow. For now, let's relax. The rain stopped so I assume whatever was on your mind was successfully tickled away?” 

Neuvillette’s ears turning a little red did not go unnoticed, he looked up with wide eyes as if he had been caught. “Ah… I guess so… though did you really have to tickle me?”

“Yes, and I have the urge to do it again now that you’re in this awful sweater.”

“W-Wriothesely don’t!”

Neuvillette’s words were cut off with a wheeze from himself and Wriothesely decided to try his legs and feet now, not that he minded. This was a nice way to spend Christmas Eve.

“Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon… Merry Christmas~”

[bekolxeram]

Buck being Buck, of course he'll do something stupidly sweet to make sure Tommy won't spend the holidays alone. (Spoilers, he's asking everyone Tommy knows to keep him company.) Tommy being Tommy, of course he's already ordered a Christmas gift for Buck months ago. Here's what happens after Sal told Tommy a kid from the 118 tracked him down and begged him to stay in LA for the holidays instead of flying home. (Buck offered to pay for his entire family to fly to LA instead, Sal said "you're fucking crazy.") Please enjoy this tiny snippet of Bucktommy's continuing saga in my head.

"Dear Buck,

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! I got you these because I remember you said — "

Tommy crumples the piece of paper he’s been writing on in his hand. It didn’t sound right. It sounded too much like he got out of his way to buy his ex a thoughtful gift, nearly 2 months after he walked out of the door and tore his heart into pieces. It takes a special kind of bastard to do that, to think that he still has the right to do that. Ev… Buck is an amazing guy and a total catch anyway, he’s probably seeing someone new already, exploring his new found freedom, enjoying the joy of fully being his true self. The last thing Tommy wants is to overstep his boundaries, or worse, to throw a wrench into his gradually stabilizing life.

He picks up another paper and starts over.

"Mr. Buckley,

Thank you for your thoughtful gesture. I would like to express my gratitude by gifting you these — "

This too joins the growing pile of paper balls on Tommy’s table. It may be the worst one so far, it reads more like an official diplomatic address between two countries on opposite sides of the Pacific Ocean. Who even calls him Mr. Buckley?

Staring at the box sitting on his kitchen island, Tommy seems to run out of idea even faster.

It’s about the size of a shoebox, it currently contains something Tommy ordered months in advance that would’ve been Buck’s Christmas gift. The package is wrapped up in simple matte gray with white snowflakes pattern throughout, adorned by a classic red ribbon tied into a bow. The only thing missing is a written message from the sender attached.

With an empty mind, Tommy starts writing again. This time, he lets his heart guide his pen.

"Dear Evan,

Thank you.

I can’t believe you did that for me, even after what I did to you.

I guess that’s just who you are, always caring, always considerate, always burning yourself to illuminate others.

You have a way to people’s heart, you know? Anyone would be lucky to have you.

And boy was I lucky. You almost made me believe I deserved a life with you.

But I also know once the initial excitement has passed, you’ll start seeing me for who I really am. Trust me, you’ll end up hating me. I’ve been there before.

I wish I was brave enough to stay, but I’m not an activist, I’m not a fighter, I’m just… broken. I spent most of my life hiding in the closet that I’ve hurt more people than I can count, I’ve hurt people I loved, I’ve hurt people you loved.

When you asked me to move in with you, even after… no, especially after you’d learned my history with Abby, I knew I had to walk away. No matter how much it hurt at the time, the thought of you despising me, being abhorred by my past, revolted by my cowardice, would quite literally kill me.

Maybe I should’ve cut things short earlier, and I’m sorry for being selfish, for being greedy. Every time I got to wake up next to you, to watch your beautiful face at peace in the land of dreams, I prayed for just one more morning like this. Every time I got to stay up with you, to hold you in my arms while you were diving deep into whatever obscure topic that perked your interest, I hoped for just another night basking in your presence.

Maybe I should’ve never accepted the invite to your sister’s wedding.

Maybe I should’ve never agreed to meet you at the café that morning.

Maybe I should’ve never asked you out to begin with.

But I did. I did all of that fully knowing my heart would be broken one way or another. And it was all my fault.

I don’t know what else to say except that I’m sorry.

Maybe I’ve always known deep down how it would end before it even started, but I guess I…

I loved you anyway."

Instead of adding to the pile of scrapped ideas, Tommy abruptly stands up, taking his heartfelt confession with him, and throws it into the fireplace.

He watches on as the searing hot flame engulfs the piece of paper, rendering his soul into tiny bits of black charcoal, which slowly dissipate into nothingness.

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

*Knock, knock, knock*

"Hey, you’re early. I haven’t finished packi… Oh." Buck says as he’s opening the door.

Surprisingly, the person standing in front of him isn’t the one he’s expecting.

"Evan Buckley?"

"Yes, I am him."

"You have a package delivery. Just sign here and you’re good to go." The mailman hands him a clip board with a confirmation form on it.

"And… done, thank you. Happy holidays." Bucks trades the signed receipt for the nicely wrapped box in the mailman’s hand.

"You too."

Buck doesn’t recall having ordered anything to be delivered lately. That’s when he notices the small envelope attached to the ribbon tied around the box. There’s a handwritten note inside, the handwriting oddly familiar. It says:

"Dear Buck,

I ordered these many months ago when you told me you were running out of space for photos on your fridge.

I just want to thank you for everything you’ve done. You don’t have to get me anything in return.

Think of it as a parting gift, one last piece from the past, before you move on to a much brighter future.

To new beginnings.

- T"

Buck closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to calm down his rippling emotions. He then carefully unties the ribbon to unwrap the gift box. Inside it, there’s a set of magnetic digital picture frames.

While he’s debating what to do with this thoughtful gift from his ex, whether to put it up to use or not, he hears knocking on the door once again. Only this time, the right person is standing on the other side.

"Uncle Buck!😊"

(Inspired by this song, I do recommend listening to it while (re)reading)

Everything I've written exists in the same universe and timeline btw. If you've read my ficlet set in next March, you'll know it's not that sad. Anyway I hope I'd be able to turn all my headcanon in to a long series one day. (Sorry for the long addendum, I tried putting everything in tags but Tumblr stopped showing this post in the tags)