#blackopswinterfest2024

[efingart]

Announcing Call of Duty Black Ops Winter Fest 2024

I polled folks over in the Black Ops Community and there was definitely some interest in an event so here we go. (You don't need to be part of the community to participate of course. You just have to like Black Ops.) OCs are welcome, ships are welcome!

Thanks to @alypink, @revnah1406, and @writeforfandoms for their help putting this list together!

Help me out and give this a reblog for reach! 💙

text:

December 15 - Winter Sports

ice skating/hockey game/skii trip

December 16 - Hurt/Comfort

illness/injury/loneliness

December 17 - Coffee/Tea Shop AU

coworkers/crush on barista/ spilled drink

December 18 - Caught in a snowstorm

staying warm/only one bed/ enemies to... friends to.. etc

December 19 - Holiday Vacation

road trip/home for the holidays/mountain getaway

December 20 - Cooking Together

baking cookies/making a holiday meal/potluck

December 21 - NYE/Holiday party

kissing at midnight or under the mistletoe/jealousy/ first time seeing someone dressed up

Details:

Submissions can be fics, art, moodboards, gifs, playlists, whatever you like to create!

That being said, no A.I. and do not use other’s work without permission (that includes gifs and art in moodboards and on fics). We want your creations

The prompts and themes are just guidelines, interpret them however you like.

Tag your work appropriately.

Be kind and civil.

Use #BlackOpsWinterFest2024 so we can find your work!

If you have any questions feel free to ask me! I will reblog work to @efingcod and to the Black Ops community!

[writeforfandoms]

O Tannenbaum

In keeping with my theme for this event, this song title is also from A Charlie Brown Christmas.

My second entry for Call of Duty Black Ops Winter Fest 2024! Hosted by the amazing @efingcod

For today's theme - Caught in a snowstorm

Alex Mason x f!reader

Word count: 1.1k

“Road's snowed in,” Alex told you as he shut the front door, shaking off a light dusting of snow. “We're stuck here a while longer.” 

You helped him brush snow off his shoulders. “Have we got enough wood?”

“For a few more days,” Alex agreed, bending down to unlace his boots. “I can always chop more, that's still an option.” 

“Good to know.” You smiled and cupped his cheeks when he straightened again. “You sure we've got everything we need?” 

“I'm sure, honey.” Alex cupped your shoulders, drawing you closer into the warmth radiating from him, despite the chill outside. “We're fine. I'm well prepared for this.” 

“Okay.” You breathed in deeply, slowly, letting the nearness of him soothe you. 

“It'll be like having a little vacation,” he murmured, low and intimate, hands slowly rubbing down your arms until he could gently encircle your wrists, the size of his hands never failing to send a thrill down your spine. “Just the two of us.” 

“And a lot of snow,” you joked to lighten the mood a little, though you didn't try to move away from him.

“That too.” Alex dipped his head to kiss you, slow and sweet. “Told you you'd always be safe with me, sweetheart.” 

You smiled, totally unable to help yourself, thumbs gently brushing over his cheeks. “You did,” you agreed, almost a whisper. 

“I meant it.” He placed another sweet kiss on your lips before he stepped back. “Come on. I'll add more wood to the fire, you should bring the bedding out here. It'll get cold tonight.” 

“Cold enough to sleep in here?” You raised your eyebrows at him but didn't hesitate to obey, walking back to the bedroom to gather up an armful of blankets and pillows. 

“It'll be warmer in here,” Alex said, matter-of-fact and calm. “I intend to keep you warm.” 

“Oh, I have no doubt of that,” you muttered playfully, lips quirking in a grin. Cold was something you rarely had to worry about when Alex was in your bed - he ran warm and tended to be clingy. 

Alex shot you a look over his shoulder, equally playful with a hint of the heat you knew him well capable of. “Don't tempt me,” he muttered before he went back to tending the fire. 

This was what he was good at. Oh, he was good at his job too, but this? Staying snowed-in for days at a time? He was good at this. Tending the fire, making do with what he had, stomping down snow to make usable pathways between important areas. He was practically built for this - the snow didn't bother him at all. 

Sometimes you wondered if he'd be happier if he just… stayed out in the snow, in a quiet little town, away from it all. 

You finished setting up a sleeping area for the two of you, having dragged the mattress into the main room. Alex was right - the temperature was already slowly dipping back in the bedroom. Not all at once, but enough that you noticed. 

Yet again, you were grateful to be here with him, of all people. You were safe with Alex. He wouldn't let any harm come to you. 

“Better?” Alex sat down next to you, wrapping one arm around your shoulders, gently encouraging you to cuddle in. 

“Better,” you agreed softly, resting your head on his shoulder. “It's nice, in here.” 

He huffed a soft laugh. “Glad you think so, sweetheart.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your head, his thumb rubbing back and forth across your shoulder, almost hypnotically soothing. Your eyes slid half-closed, tension seeping from you. 

“We'll have to eat soon,” he murmured some undetermined amount of time later. “Before it gets too late.”

You straightened up and yawned, stretching your arms up over your head. “I don't even know how you can tell,” you grumbled. “It's been dark outside all day.” 

His lips quirked in a little grin. “There's a clock on the mantle,” he teased, pushing up to his feet. “Come on, let's go take a look in the kitchen, see if anything sounds good to you.” 

You pouted at the playful jab. He would eat just about anything, but you were a bit more picky. 

Fortunately, there was still plenty of canned soup and stew, which worked well for dinner. 

After you'd washed up and cuddled back up to Alex, the two of you settled in to entertain yourselves for a bit. You read the book you'd brought with you, something you'd been meaning to get to for months and just hadn't found the time. Alex pulled out a crossword puzzle, occasionally muttering to himself as he worked. 

The quiet between you settled, peaceful and warm as the fire in front of you. The snow dampened all sounds from outside, the wind having died down to nothing a while back. Dancing shadows from the fire caught the corner of your eye every now and again, tricking you into thinking there was movement around you. 

The constant warmth and pressure of Alex next to you soothed you. Made everything better. 

Alex heard it first, head coming up, eyes a little narrowed. He sat very still for a few long moments, long enough for you to tense next to him, uncertain.

Then he tapped your book and smiled, motioning for you to follow. Confused more than anything now, you stood and followed him to the window. 

A moose stood outside, nose pushing through the fresh snow to search for any tasty green stuff underneath. She lifted her head, easily looking straight in the window, and blinked once. Apparently unconcerned, she ambled forward a few more steps to start munching on something else. 

“Oh wow,” you breathed, pressing closer to the glass until it chilled your nose. “She's beautiful.” 

“Yeah,” Alex agreed softly, one of his hands winding around yours and squeezing gently. But when you looked at him to share the moment, he wasn't looking out the window at the moose.

He was looking at you. 

Your lips parted in surprise, heart tripping into overtime. His free hand lifted slowly, cupping your cheek delicately, the barest pressure encouraging you to turn into his kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed at the first press of his lips to yours, the snowy world around you falling away. 

All that mattered was this man. 

You finally opened your eyes again half an eternity later when he pulled back, only just enough to look at you. 

“Come to bed?” He whispered into the delicate space between the two of you. 

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Always,” you promised tenderly, ever so gently bumping your nose into his. 

Neither of you was going to be cold tonight. 

[mortal-kombattore-115]

A bit late, but here is my submission for Black Ops Winter Fest 2024! Bell introducing Woods to some homemade Pan dulce!

[pinboardscarecrow]

This event was the perfect opportunity to get Super self indulgent, and I wasn't missing it! The fic takes place in an au where Adler spares Bell during the Solovetsky ending and smuggles them back into America, and also follows the au/head canon of Adler being Phillip Graves's father.

I promise it's much more lighthearted than the warnings would suggest!

Black Ops Winter Fest 2024 - December 19th

Home for the Holidays

Word Count: 1,400 Words

Warnings: Implied suicidal/homicidal ideation; Discussions of divorce; Accidental misgendering by a child

Ship(s): Jokes referencing Adler/Bell

When Adler informed Bell they would be spending Christmas with him and his family, they were less than thrilled. But hey, if Bell can make his life just a little worse for a few weeks, maybe it'll be worth it.

event prompts ⋆｡°✩ masterlist ⋆｡°✩ request info ⋆｡°✩ send a request ⋆｡°✩ my ao3

There were a lot of things that happened in Bell’s life that they didn’t expect, especially when it came to one Russell Adler. Being brainwashed by him was definitely at the top of that list, but being shot by him, rescued by him, smuggled back into the United States by him, and spending Christmas with his ex-wife were all up there too.

Yes, you heard that right.

Bell was spending their first Christmas in America with Adler and his ex-wife. 

Oh, right, their son too.

“Are we fucking there yet?” Bell groaned for the umpteenth time, kicking their feet on the dashboard to the beat of some Aerosmith song. They could feel Adler glaring at them out of the corner of their eye but pointedly chose to ignore it in favor of watching their hand, which was stuck out of the window, bobbing up and down in the wind.

“You’re worse than my son,” Adler growled, loudening the radio to drown out the sound of their kicks.

“Wow, you sound like a lovely father,” Bell hummed as they pulled their boots off the dashboard and sat up. They popped the cassette out of the player, eliciting a few choice words from Adler, and rustled through the collection he kept in the glove compartment. Once they found the tape they were looking for, they crammed it into the player and fast-forwarded it.

“I meant that you’re more childish than him,” Adler corrected. “You’re a grown adult, he’s six-years- for fucks sake Bell!” He snapped suddenly, slamming pause on the tape as soon as the first drumbeats of Sympathy for the Devil came blasting through the speakers.

Bell smashed their finger back on the play button. “C’mon, let me listen to it!”

“You’ve listened to it thirty times already!”

“One more!”

“You said that the last ten times!” Adler shouted back, throwing his hand up in defeat as Bell blocked the pause button with their hand, forcing him to either fight them while driving or just let it play. Thankfully for both of them, he chose the latter, though he didn’t hesitate to flip them off when they stuck their tongue out at him. 

It had been like this for three days now, and thankfully it was nearly over. Eight hours a day of sitting in a car with Bell was starting to grate on Adler’s sanity, and Bell couldn’t have been enjoying it more.

Neither of them had been particularly happy about this arrangement when it was first decided on. If it were up to Bell, they would have stayed holed up in Adler’s house in D.C. and totally trashed the place while he was gone. Unfortunately for them, he had decided that leaving one of America’s most high-profile enemies, who was supposed to be dead no less, alone in his house for two weeks wasn’t a smart idea.

When he had started having smart ideas was beyond Bell, but they wished he hadn’t.

“Why do you even like this song so much?” Adler finally asked after a minute, more likely as a means to annoy Bell than out of a genuine interest.

Bell shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess it kinda reminds me of you.”

Who knew Adler was so fond of his middle finger?

“After everything I’ve done for you,” he shook his head incredulously. “You think you’d show me some gratitude.”

Gratitude? Bell let out a laugh at that. “Oh, yeah, right. If you’d done your fucking job, I wouldn’t have to spend two weeks babysitting your toddler while you make goo-goo eyes at the woman who dumped your ass.”

“What did you just say to me?”

“I said you should have killed me in Solovetsky, Russ. You’d have done us all a favor.”

Adler’s knuckles were white where he gripped the steering wheel. “You know, some mornings I stand over you with a pillow,” he confessed. Bell couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not but they laughed anyway.

“Whenever you’re ready, go for it.”

The last half hour of the ride was silent, save for the blaring of the radio, which had been turned on in lieu of fighting over cassettes. Eventually, the car turned off the main road, rumbling down a driveway in some affluent neighborhood Bell wouldn’t have been able to find their way out of if their life depended on it.

“God damn,” they gawked as Adler parked the car. “I can see why she left you—she’s loaded.”

Just as they reached to open the door, Adler grabbed them by the shoulder. “Cut the shit, Bell.” His sunglasses slid down his nose just enough for Bell to see his eyes burning holes through them. “We’re guests. Don’t make me look bad, understood?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bell waved him off. “Don’t be a dick, keep the language clean around your kid, yadda yadda. Now let’s talk about what you can do for me.”

Adler pulled his hand away with a scowl. “Get out of my car.”

“Aye, aye captain.”

Nothing could take away the relief of finally being able to stretch their legs, not even the feeling of the hot, Texas sun roasting them alive the moment they stepped out of the car—wasn’t winter supposed to be cold, even this far south? 

They slammed the car door shut, turning to face Adler just in time to see a small figure barreling across the lawn toward him shouting “daddy”.

Adler bent over, scooping up the boy—who looked alarmingly similar to him, even for being his kid—in his arms. It would have been cute, except that it was Adler. Watching him of all people swing a little kid around was kind of like watching an alligator play with a kitten.

After the typical greetings of look how big you’ve gotten and I missed you, the boy, Phillip, as Bell finally remembered, wriggled around in Adler’s arms to face Bell. He pointed a small finger in their direction before leaning in close to Adler and whispering not at all quietly, “Is that your visitor?”

The way he said the word visitor told Bell all they needed to know; Ms. Ex-Adler—Graves, Adler had corrected them numerous times, she had never taken his last name—had no idea what the fuck they and Adler were.

“Yes,” Adler responded after a moment, staring down Bell as though they were a spaceship that had just touched down in front of him. “That’s Bell, they’re my…” He trailed off, fishing for an age appropriate equivalent of what Bell thought should have been prisoner. 

“Boyfriend?” Phillip offered helpfully.

The look on Adler’s face made every excruciating minute of that twenty-two-hour drive worth it.

“It’s ok,” Phillip patted Adler’s head when he didn’t respond. “Mommy has a boyfriend too.”

By this point, Bell was howling with laughter, having to lean against the car door just to hold themself upright. Adler stared at them in disbelief, turning to Phillip as he floundered for an answer. “No,” he finally came up with, trying his damnedest to approach Phillip’s sincerity with patience. “No, Bell isn’t my boyfriend. Bell, uh, Bell isn’t even a boy.”

Well wasn’t that sweet of him. For a moment, Bell could almost believe he cared about them.

Phillip nodded thoughtfully—about as thoughtfully as a six-year-old could nod anyway—and gave Bell an excited wave. “Hi, not-Mr. Bell!”

Bell waved back, flashing him a grin. They could already tell they were going to like the kid.

The front door opened again, this time a short, pretty brunette coming to stand out on the step. Phillip wiggled around in Adler’s arms again, and Adler lowered him back onto the ground. 

Bell and Adler both moved around the car toward the trunk, Adler popping it open so they could grab their bags inside. “I take it back,” Bell said in a low voice as they picked up their belongings. “I’m cool with babysitting.”

Adler turned to glare at them as he reached down for his own things. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

Back at the front door, Phillip was just reaching his mother again. “Mommy! Daddy’s here!” He called excitedly in typical little kid fashion. Bell couldn’t hold back their laughter, nor Adler his dismay as Phillip added; “And his new partner!”

Whatever Bell had said earlier about this trip, they took back. Two weeks of Adler’s misery was the best Christmas present they could ever ask for.

[agentredops]

Black Ops Winter Fest 2024 - Day 4 - "Caught In a Snowstorm"

Kosmo "Kingslayer" Solovyov gets caught in a snowstorm on the run, yet takes the time to reflect on their past...

710 Words

!: Mentions Blood!

Kingslayer was hitchhiking on a truck, just driving through the different towns of Turkey. They thought they could be safe in Armenia, yet something always came back to haunt them. It has been five days since they’ve been on the run, away from people who want them dead. Kingslayer feels bad for leaving their friends behind, with no trace and no chance to say goodbye.

Kingslayer took a quick look outside the truck, seeing the snow. They wanted to touch it so bad but knew they couldn’t. Kingslayer felt odd, seeing the snow. They haven’t seen it since… They were a kid. The last Christmas before they would go off to the military, or at least try.

—

“Hold on to the rails!”

“I’ll be fine, mother,” they said as they immediately fell onto the ground. Their mother chuckled a bit before coming to help them up.

“Thanks.” The two of them continue to walk, hoping to reach the lake.

“So… You are serious?” They sighed.

“Yes, I will go into the military. I want to go beyond this place…”

“I was hoping you would say no this time. I don’t want to lose my only child, the last member of my family…”

“I will be fine, mother. I think I will fit in just fine… Come on, let’s go before the snowstorm comes.” The rest of the walk was silent.

—

They didn’t have much time to think about it when the truck started to come to a halt. Kingslayer hid, not wanting to get caught and just waited. And waited… And waited…

They soon passed out and woke up in darkness and the cold. Kingslayer got up immediately and went to get out of the truck. It was dark out here, with very little light and with tons of snow. The strong winds only made them feel even colder. They were alone…

“Shit.” They started to follow the lights, hoping for anything. Kingslayer only saw closed buildings and no safe haven. The snow was starting to get worse and the little clothes they had weren't going to help them for much longer. They held on tightly to their blue scarf, covering their whole face with it.

Were they going to die here? Alone and cold?

—

They kicked them and ripped all of their stuff away… They ripped their rank away from them. They left them in the snow to die, letting the red blood fall onto the snow. There was nowhere left for Solovyov to go. They couldn’t return to their mother, not looking like this… a failure. They soon got up, walking away from the place, leaving a trail of blood behind in the pure snow…

—

Kingslayer soon noticed a little cafe that was open. They rushed in, feeling the warmth of the place. They felt somewhat safe… After taking off their scarf, they took a quick look. There was no one else here, just them. The little fireplace was going, giving the place warmth and life. They noticed the little lanterns around the whole place, giving that warm glow, reminding them of a home they once had. There were some tables and a huge counter. It felt so odd to them. They didn’t belong here. This was too nice for them.

Kingslayer was pushed out of their thoughts when they heard a cough. They turned and saw an elderly lady behind the counter. They wore beautiful clothes with many colors, looking even more alive than the cafe themselves. Kingslayer waved at them, unsure what to do.

The lady spoke in a strange language. Kingslayer looked on in confusion. Kingslayer tried to speak in Russian, hoping that it would work. The lady looked confused too. Kingslayer decided to use Armenian, hoping that would work. They noticed a glimmer in the lady’s eyes. She replied back in Armenian and Kingslayer felt their heart calm down and for once, was at ease.

Kingslayer sat at the counter and soon got some coffee and some bread. They would chat for the next few hours and Kingslayer would be allowed to stay at the place for the night, considering the storm outside. They would stay near the fire for the night, sleeping at peace for the first time since going on the run….

[writeforfandoms]

Christmas Is Coming

Last fic for the event! Title is from A Charlie Brown Christmas. Again. Still on theme!

For today's entry for Call of Duty Black Ops Winter Fest 2024 hosted by the wonderful @efingcod

Today's theme is cooking together! Baking counts, of course.

Frank Woods x f!reader

Word count: 1k

“How many things are you making?” Frank asked, eyeing the kitchen with some trepidation. 

“Just the usual,” you said, looking at the ingredients on the counter. “Fudge, of course, and a few different types of cookies.” 

Frank shook his head slowly, looking a little overwhelmed. “This is the usual? You do this every year?” 

“Well, yeah.” You glanced back at him, a little confused. 

He blew out a breath and shook his head, walking up to you to kiss the top of your head. “What do you need?”

You beamed at him. “You don't need to help if you don't want to. I'm used to doing this on my own.” 

“Yeah, well, I'm here now,” he grunted. “So tell me what to do.” 

You couldn't help but smile. “Wash up and then start opening things for me,” you decided. “Like the evaporated milk.” 

Frank started wordlessly, moving around you in the kitchen. It was a little tight with the two of you, but it was nice, too. You hadn’t spent a lot of time cooking with someone before. In fact, you were more prone to pushing people out of the kitchen while you cooked. But Frank… Frank was different. 

The two of you were comfortable together, in a way you'd never been with anyone else. You didn't mind him in your kitchen. 

Frank turned on the radio after a few minutes, moving aside to watch you work. You hummed along as you stirred cookie batter together, pausing to add more chocolate chips before you continued. When you finally finished and paused to glance at him, Frank was still watching you, one hand under his chin, gaze soft. 

You paused, blinking at him. 

“Don't mind me,” he rumbled, lips twitching in amusement. “Go on.” 

You huffed, amused and a little embarrassed, but kept working. It didn't take long to get the cookies in the oven, and you set the timer with a satisfied hum. 

Big hands settled at your hips from behind, making you jump a little.  

“Have I told you how gorgeous you are like this?” Frank asked, dipping his head to speak in your ear. 

You shivered, tipping your head to look at him out of the corner of your eye. “You haven't,” you murmured, shoulders relaxing as you leaned back into him ever so slightly. 

“You are.” Frank pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, hands squeezing at your hips gently. 

“Might have to bake around you more often,” you mused, hands settling over his, fingertips stroking over scarred and calloused skin. “If it gets this kind of reaction out of you.” 

Frank hummed a soft note against your skin, lips gentle and facial hair a little bristly. “I like seeing you comfortable and competent,” he murmured. 

“That so?” You tipped your head all the way back against his shoulder. “I'll remember that.” 

“Good.” Frank kissed the side of your neck again, hands squeezing your hips. 

The timer beeped a one minute warning, and you pouted briefly. You didn't want to leave the warmth and comfort of his arms. But you had to, or the cookies would burn. 

“Frank.” You tapped his hands.

“No.” He nipped the back of your shoulder, sending a thrill down your spine. 

“I need to take the cookies out and get the next thing going.” 

Frank sighed, louder than he really meant, breath warming your skin. You and he both knew the sigh was for show, rather than real upset. He released you with one last squeeze just as the timer went off. 

You got the cookies out and swapped a new baking sheet in, setting the timer again. 

“Since you seem to have energy to burn, want to help me with the fudge?” You raised one eyebrow at Frank. 

He looked dubious, brows furrowing at you even as he drummed his fingers against the counter. “You have seen me cook,” he pointed out. 

“Don't worry, this is easy, and I'll be helping. You just have to stir.” 

He considered for a few moments longer before he shrugged. “Yeah, alright.” 

As promised, you helped Frank, adding the ingredients at the right time. This recipe really wasn't difficult, but it did require a lot of stirring. 

“Okay,” you said, pleased with how the fudge looked so far. “Now you stir for five minutes.”

“Straight?” Frank shot a brief, betrayed look at you. 

“It's not that bad,” you dismissed. “This is the longest part and then we just add the last couple things and it's done! You can make it.” 

Frank heaved a sigh but stirred diligently nonetheless. You smiled to yourself and opened up the bag of chocolate in preparation. 

By three minutes, Frank was frowning down at the fudge. By four, he was swearing softly under his breath. By the five minute mark, you took pity on him and took over stirring so he could pour in the chocolate chips. 

“Not as easy as it looks,” you told him with a little grin. “It gets easier with time but I always struggle with the fudge. I just don't make it often enough to get used to stirring for five minutes.” 

He huffed. “It's a lot of stirring,” he grumbled. 

“With delicious results,” you pointed out. “Add the marshmallow fluff now, please.” 

“Now it looks more like fudge,” he observed as you mixed in the marshmallow fluff. 

“Yup. It still has to cool, that takes a while. But you can lick the pan, after it cools off a bit.” 

Frank muttered something about licking, which you ignored only because you still had more cookies to make. 

He did take the excuse to get back out of the kitchen, though, apparently happier to watch you work than be put to work himself. Which worked fine for you. You hummed to yourself as you switched out cookie trays, filling Tupperware containers and baggies. Every time you checked on him, Frank seemed just fine, watching you with a tiny smile twitching the corners of his lips. 

“Finally done?” Frank asked when you turned off the oven, the hum of the fan comfortable background noise. 

“Yeah.” You brushed your hands together to dust the flour and bits off. 

“Good.” Frank stood, rounding the counter to pull you into him. “My turn.” 

You blinked, momentarily confused, until he guided you back out of the kitchen, hands firm and steady on your hips. 

He kicked the bedroom door closed behind the two of you, and you smiled. 

His turn indeed. 

[pinboardscarecrow]

Black Ops Winter Fest 2024 - December 20th

Cooking Together

Word Count: 631 Words

Warnings: Mild sexual innuendo

Ship(s): Alex Mason/Frank Woods

Frank has always been independent, sometimes a little too independent. Mason just wishes he would ask for help sometimes.

event prompts ⋆｡°✩ masterlist ⋆｡°✩ request info ⋆｡°✩ send a request ⋆｡°✩ my ao3

“Frank, what the hell are you doing?”

When Mason smelled something burning, he had rushed into the kitchen as quickly as he could. A thousand different scenarios ran through his head; a tipped-over candle, the oven being left on, and Woods falling asleep with a cigarette were all possibilities. 

What he hadn’t expected was to find Woods cooking.

“I’m- fuck!” Crash. “I’m making an omelet- goddammit. What does it look like I’m” —slam—”doing?”

Mason was about ready to smash his head off the nearest wall.

Everyone who knew Woods had collectively cringed when they learned he had broken his leg and would be on crutches for the entire holiday season. Woods and rest were two words that mixed about as well as oil and water—both of which were spilled all over the counter at the moment.

“Would you go sit down?” Mason sighed as he cautiously approached from behind.

Woods shooed him off with a crutch, nearly whacking him in the shin. “I’m fine, Al. I got this.”

Mason frowned at the one, two, three eggs cracked directly onto the counter and hummed. “Sure. And the counter was just hungry I assume.”

The bark of laughter Woods let out nearly made him smack his crutch into the pan. “Yeah, you say I never help out with chores. Doing my part to feed the kids.”

If Mason didn’t love him so much, he would’ve strangled Woods a long time ago.

So, Woods wouldn’t be backing down anytime soon. That was fine, Mason had expected nothing less. The only problem now was finding something that would make Woods get the fuck out of the kitchen.

“Frank,” Mason tried in a low, sweet voice as he slid up to Woods’s back and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Really, you’re gonna break your leg again at this rate.”

“Cool it, Mason. I’m fine,” Woods huffed, not paying him any mind.

Alright, not like that then; babying Woods just seemed to make him more stubborn.

Instead, Mason tried resting his head on Woods’ shoulder and nuzzled into his neck. “I know you are,” Mason hummed softly, pressing a chaste kiss against Woods’ skin. “But if you sit down and let me finish this for you, you might get a reward.”

That made Woods pause.

“Really?” He asked, and Mason could hear the smile on his lips. “Since when were you the rewarding type, Al?”

“Since you trashed my kitchen.”

Woods snorted in amusement. “So, what kind of reward are you thinking?”

Mason shrugged against Woods’s back. He unlaced his fingers from where his hands locked around Woods’s waist, and trailed them slowly to his hips, rubbing small circles into them. “Whatever you want,” he pressed another kiss to the shell of Woods’s ear.

“Alright,” Woods conceded with a devious chuckle, turning off the stove before sliding a hand over one of Mason’s through his crutches. “You win.”

It took all of Mason’s strength not to let out a sigh of relief. “Good,” he hummed as he nuzzled into the crook of Woods’s neck.

“So about that reward.”

“Mhm?”

“I want pancakes too.”

Mason pulled his head back.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“You said whatever I want!” Woods retorted with a laugh as he craned to look at Mason over his shoulder. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

Mason rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help the smile on his face as he pulled away from Woods.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he huffed teasingly as he ushered Woods away from the stove. “Just get out of the kitchen before I change my mind.”

This is going to be a long Christmas, Mason thought to himself as the sounds of Woods’s crutches and laughter faded down the hall. 

He wouldn’t have had it any other way.

[pinboardscarecrow]

Black Ops Winter Fest 2024 - December 18th

Caught in a Snowstorm

Word Count: 838 Words

Warnings: None

Ship(s): None

Why Lazar ever agrees to helping Bell is beyond him. Usually it has rather questionable outcomes, and this time is no exception.

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“Holy dick and balls it’s cold out here.”

Lazar cocked an eyebrow as he glanced over at Bell. “Some colorful language there.”

“Not as colorful as my ass is gonna be when I turn into a popsicle.”

Well, at least if Lazar were going to die of hypothermia, he’d do so with some form of entertainment.

Not that it softened the blow that Bell was the reason he was stuck out here to begin with.

When Adler had said that the pair would have the day off, Lazar envisioned being wrapped up under a mound of blankets, eating takeout, and seeing what movies the shitty old TV they kept stored in the darkroom could pick up. What he most certainly hadn’t envisioned was sitting outside in a snowbank with Bell, locked out of the safe house.

“I hope you’re happy,” Lazar’s breath came out as a puff of steam. He rubbed his hands together in a useless attempt to warm them up before settling to stuff them back in his pockets instead. 

Bell fixed him with a lopsided, at least mildly apologetic smile before turning back to the felled tree at their feet. They had insisted that the safe house needed a Christmas tree and dragged Lazar out into the subfreezing temperatures with the promise of making him hot chocolate in exchange for his help. He thought it would be a quick trip: locate a small tree, cut it down, drag it back, and that was the end of it. 

Never mind the fact that Lazar didn’t even celebrate Christmas, now he was trapped outside—I left the key in my coat, Bell had informed him after trying and failing to jimmy the door open—in the middle of a snowstorm.

“Remind me,” Lazar grunted as he leaned back against the wall of the safe house. “Why did you need to wear Adler’s jacket again?”

“Because he never lets me when he’s here!” They retorted, spreading their arms out and spinning in a circle for Lazar to see. “It’s a nice jacket.”

“Christ, Bell.”

“I’m sorry! If we survive- don’t roll your eyes at me, we might not. If we survive, I owe you big time. I’ll get you dinner every night, I'll do your chores for a week, whatever you want.”

As much as Lazar wanted to suffocate Bell in a snowbank, watching them scramble for his forgiveness was at least amusing. “It’s the least you can do,” he nodded, pushing himself off the wall as he added; “Standing here will do us no good, it’s best to keep moving. Let’s see if there’s another way in.”

They wandered around the building together, checking each and every window and grate for any way in. Unfortunately, the CIA seemed to know what they were doing as far as safe houses went; twenty minutes later, and still not any closer to finding an entrance, Lazar was beginning to grow annoyed.

Lucky for Bell, just after they rounded the corner at the end of their hunt, a car pulled down the driveway.

“No way,” he heard Bell breathe from behind him before they excitedly plodded to Adler’s car.

Lazar followed them, simply praying that Adler actually had a key on him.

“Bell? Lazar? What are you doing out here?” Lazar heard Adler asking Bell as he slid out of the car. He furrowed his brow as he glanced over Bell. “And why are you wearing my jacket?”

“We locked ourselves out.”

“Bell locked us out,” Lazar corrected as he came to stand beside them.

“Right, yes, fine,” Bell waved him off. “I locked us out. Please tell me you have a key.”

Adler cocked an eyebrow at Bell’s question, raising a finger to point at their chest. “Yeah, in there.”

Bell blinked at him, taking a moment to process what he said before slowly reaching up to the pocket on their chest and peeling it open. Their hand dove inside, coming out holding-

“You’re kidding me.”

Bell turned to face Lazar with wide eyes. “Oops?”

“How long have you two been out here?” Adler questioned, breaking the silence.

Lazar never took his eyes from Bell’s as he answered. “Over an hour.”

He didn’t have to be looking at Adler to see the way he grimaced at the response. “Good luck with that,” Adler hummed, clapping Bell on the arm as he passed them, walking up to the safe house. “Next time, wear your own damn jacket.”

Bell rubbed at the back of their neck as they held out their hand to Lazar, presenting him with the key. “I’m, uh, I’m gonna go grab the tree,” they pointed up to the side of the safe house where their tree lay half covered in snow. “If you could…”

“Yes, I’ll let Adler in,” Lazar finished for them, turning to follow him up the path. He made it a few steps before pausing, a thought suddenly striking him.

“Oh, and Bell?” He called, glancing over his shoulder. “Chinese for dinner would be great. Your treat.”

[writeforfandoms]

Skating

This was meant to go up yesterday but I ended up being out all day and couldn't post this. Whoops.

My entry for day one of Black Ops Winter Fest hosted by the lovely @efingart for the prompt of winter sports!

In order to stick with my usual title = song title, this song is from A Charlie Brown Christmas. Cute song. Go listen to it.

Word count: 877

Sevati Dumas x f!reader

When you told Sevati to dress warmly for your outing today, she had looked less than impressed, but had gone along willingly enough. (You figured she'd owed you, after the incident with the restaurant last week.) 

But when you showed her the actual activity you had planned, she looked downright skeptical. 

“Are you certain about this?” She dangled one ice skate from one long finger, raising her eyebrow at you. 

“It's a very common thing for people to do in the winter,” you said with a shrug, as if you weren't mildly terrified of ice skating. “It'll be fine. We'll figure it out.” 

Sevati huffed softly but didn't disagree with you, simply allowing you to lead the way from the car to the pond. 

The pond, as it turned out, was absolutely gorgeous in the morning sun. Snow glimmered and glinted in the light, piled up around the icy surface of the pond. A few icicles hung from bare trees nearby, sparkling when the sunlight hit them just right. And the pond showed evidence of those who'd come before, the ice marred from previous skaters. Your breath puffed out in a soft cloud in front of your face, and you shrugged off the backpack you'd carried with you. Snow crunched as you set the backpack down. 

“See? Perfectly fine. I told you others have already been skating here.”  You shot a grin at Sevati, full of more confidence than you felt. 

“So I see.” Her lips quirked. “Well, then.” She sat on the edge of a large rock, pulling off one shoe and replacing it with a skate.

It didn't take long until the both of you stood at the edge of the pond, a little wobbly, both uncertain how to proceed. 

“You don't need to wait for me,” Sevati prompted you, shifting her weight. 

“Well.” You stopped there, embarrassed. “I actually haven't gone ice skating in years.” 

Sevati turned her head slowly to look at you in disbelief. “Years?” She repeated, voice pitching up in sheer incredulity. 

“Yeah,” you admitted. “Haven't had a chance recently.” 

She shook her head, reaching up to pull her cap a little lower over her ears. “This was your idea,” she reminded you, a little grumpy. 

“I know,” you admitted sheepishly. “Wasn't my best one.” You looked down, digging the toe of your skate into the snow. 

She sighed softly, and mitten-clad fingers closed around yours. “Together, then.” 

You looked up at her to check in, make sure she wasn't actually mad. But she had softened, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth, fingers secure around yours. You smiled, shoulders relaxing again. 

“Together,” you agreed quietly. 

Your first step onto the ice felt very wobbly, and Sevati kept you from falling over outright. You laughed a little at yourself, catching her indulgent smile in your periphery. 

And then she stepped onto the ice with you.

For a moment, the two of you wavered, clinging to each other, but held upright. You clutched her hand tighter, breathless in the moment, the cold and the beauty of her going straight to your heart.

One of you slipped. You couldn't say who with confidence. But both of you went down with little shrieks into a tangle of limbs. 

You burst out laughing at the disgruntled look on Sevati's face. She took revenge in the form of a handful of snow flung at your face. Somehow, the two of you ended up half-wrestling, half-playing on the ice, the activity and the closeness of her keeping you quite warm. 

You ended up under her, lips parted, gaze held in hers. She didn't need to hold you down to keep you there. This was, after all, one of your favorite places to be. 

“Did you have anything else in that bag of fun?” Sevati purred, leaning down closer to you. 

You smiled slowly, tipping your head to the side, feeling a little mischievous. “Well, I had heard that hot cocoa is kind of traditional,” you murmured. “I've got a thermos in my backpack.”

“My prepared little love.” Sevati's lips brushed your cheek, so close to what you really wanted. 

An engine grew closer, roaring to a halt and idling nearby. You and Sevati both made a face, and you couldn't help but giggle. 

“We will go back to my place,” Sevati murmured, already working on extricating herself from the tangle. “We'll get to your cocoa later.”

Desire flushed through you, hot and heady. But you held steady as you nodded, waiting for her to shuffle carefully away from you before you sat up. 

Getting up was not easy, and it wasn't pretty. But somehow, you both managed. By the time you did, another couple had sailed out onto the ice, graceful and completely in sync with each other. 

You snuck a glance at Sevati as she stealthily tucked a hand under your elbow, keeping you upright and more steady as you reached the edge of the ice. Snow crunched under your weight again. 

Maybe ice skating hadn't been the success you'd hoped it would be. Maybe the two of you wouldn't float across the ice together like the couple behind you. 

But you didn't need that to know you were perfectly in step with her anyway. 

[efingart]

Thank you to everyone who participated in Black Ops Winter Fest 2024! I loved reading all your stories and seeing the artwork 💙💙💙 You're all so amazing!

[onlycodcanjudgeme]

Check out this amazing event!!!

Announcing Call of Duty Black Ops Winter Fest 2024

I polled folks over in the Black Ops Community and there was definitely some interest in an event so here we go. (You don't need to be part of the community to participate of course. You just have to like Black Ops.) OCs are welcome, ships are welcome!

Thanks to @alypink, @revnah1406, and @writeforfandoms for their help putting this list together!

Help me out and give this a reblog for reach! 💙

text:

December 15 - Winter Sports

ice skating/hockey game/skii trip

December 16 - Hurt/Comfort

illness/injury/loneliness

December 17 - Coffee/Tea Shop AU

coworkers/crush on barista/ spilled drink

December 18 - Caught in a snowstorm

staying warm/only one bed/ enemies to... friends to.. etc

December 19 - Holiday Vacation

road trip/home for the holidays/mountain getaway

December 20 - Cooking Together

baking cookies/making a holiday meal/potluck

December 21 - NYE/Holiday party

kissing at midnight or under the mistletoe/jealousy/ first time seeing someone dressed up

Details:

Submissions can be fics, art, moodboards, gifs, playlists, whatever you like to create!

That being said, no A.I. and do not use other’s work without permission (that includes gifs and art in moodboards and on fics). We want your creations

The prompts and themes are just guidelines, interpret them however you like.

Tag your work appropriately.

Be kind and civil.

Use #BlackOpsWinterFest2024 so we can find your work!

If you have any questions feel free to ask me! I will reblog work to @efingcod and to the Black Ops community!