#fic: a christmas fix

[yoonia]

Currently, A Christmas Fix has reached (roughly) 38k words and 900ish paragraphs. With my brain suddenly adding another scene and I still have some rough scenes to polish, the numbers may grow exponentially once I'm done. Which only leaves me with the possibility of splitting this fic into two chapters (because of Tumblr's text post limitation).

Please let me know if that will be convenient for you guys and please help suggest how I should post this fic to make sure that everyone will read and interact with both chapters

Additional note: Choosing the first option might also mean that you'll have to wait a bit longer until I'm completely done writing and editing this pieace

[yoonia]

ahh thank you so much!!!

BTS fic recs: February 2024

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty or dark as hell, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the fic, it might seem like a tiny gesture, but it really means a lot for writers and I can guarantee it will put a smile on their faces💜 Let’s share and give lots of love!

Looking for more to read? Check ‘The Library’ or last years recs 🙂

[index] → jan | 💜 (jhs) | mar (myg) | apr | may | jun | jul | aug | sep (jjk)(knj) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (kth)(ksj) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄. 

⭐Friend or Fuck pt. 2 @joonsmagicshop [10k]  // knj x f.reader // f2l // 🥰🥵

📝 Namjoon hasn't forgotten the promise he made you and he's ready to deliver.

🗨️ this part two really didn’t disappoint!!! So fucking good!!! I loved all the tension and Jungkook being the best (teasing) friend 😆 High recommend it— also reading part one first, if you haven’t already ✨

⭐Mistakes we Knew we were Making @btsgotjams27 [1.9k] // knj x f.reader // slice of life, marriage!au (failed marriage) divorce!au, exes!au // 🌩️

📝 young, careless, and in love. that's how mistakes are made.

🗨️ this was beautiful; slightly angsty and a bit heart wrenching, but wonderfully written 🥹✨ loved it very much 🥰

Where’s what I didn’t get to read this month, but itching to lay my eyes on:

The Sheriff @ppersonna

Hammer it Home @gukslut

Mistletoe @belovedkingx

Also, please take a look at last year’s Namjoon recs right here for more 💜

I truly feel so fucking sorry that I didn’t get to read any Seokjin fics this month. I’m a bad bun bun.

Where’s what I didn’t get to read this month, but itching to lay my eyes on:

10 Years @yoonpobs

My Plus One @btsgotjams27

Dream Come True @sugaurora

Also, please take a look at last year’s Seokjin recs right here for more 💜

⭐Things that Grow @violetsiren90 [0.9k] // myg x f.reader // established relationship, idol!au // 🥰🌩️

📝 the idea of having your first ever orgasm by talking to a hot, random stranger through your phone scares the living hell out of you, but maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.

🗨️ it is so fucking beautiful, I can’t even begin to articulate… fuck. I know it’s very short, but dammit I love it. Every single freaking word in this is PERFECTION.

⭐Hard Liquor @chateautae [8k] // myg x f.reader x jjk // business!au, age!au, executive boss!yoongi x employee!reader // 🥵

📝 your dull evening at a bar becomes hopeful when your mysterious, handsome boss min yoongi shows you the ropes on everything alcohol, but shows you much more when he ends up buried deep inside you.

🗨️ it was SO FUCKING INCREDIBLE like I don’t even know where to begin??? The smut??? That has left me in utter need of Holy Water, because DAMN 🥵 The writing, flow of the story was also just 💯✨

⭐Broken, pt. 2 [3tan ongoing series] @kithtaehyung [15.3K]  // myg x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 the championship game lights up... and everything goes down.

🗨️ I can’t truly articulate how much I adore 3tan (and Ryen) 😭 This chapter was another fucking perfection, and if you didn’t know it was out, this is your PSA 😂💖

⭐Make Me @violetsiren90 [16k] // jhs x f.reader // idol!au, f2fwb, BDSM lifestyle // 🥵

📝 you’ve been friends with Hobi for years, and he’s your comfort zone - but when he gets wind of a dark secret you drunkenly let slip, things between you take a sudden extreme change.

🗨️ oh. My.Goodness. My soul left my body multiple times when I read this!!! It is incredible!!! Really love this one, and if you like BDSM this is definitely for you, but even if you don’t (like me, this was out of my ‘comfort zone’) you will still enjoy it ✨👏💯 

Where’s what I didn’t get to read this month, but itching to lay my eyes on:

Benefits @cutechim

Just Like Christmas @yeoldontknow

Hurricane @floralseokjin

Also, please take a look at this year’s Hoseok fics right here for more 💜

⭐Peaches and Cream @snackhobi [9.1k] // pjm x f.reader // neighbor!au // 🥵

📝 you wouldn’t mind your cute neighbour being such a shameless fuckboy if a) the walls weren’t so thin and b) he didn’t seem intent on adding you as another notch in his bedpost. 

🗨️ I’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO LOOK AT PEACHES THE SAME WAY AGAIN 🥵

Thank you very much, this was so fucking hot I think I’m malfunctioning. And now, I’ve time I’ll eat a peach, or watch other people eat peaches— I’ll forever think of this story 🥵💯✨

Where’s what I didn’t get to read this month, but itching to lay my eyes on:

High on Love @peachypinkygloss

Give me Love [completed series] @writtenwhalien

Secrets by the Shore @chateautae

Also, please take a look at last year’s Jimin recs right here for more 💜

⭐Wanna Stream a Porno [part of the Wannabe Photographer Chronicles] @gimmethatagustd [4.8k] // kth x f.reader // frenemies to lovers, sex work, dub/sub themes // 🥵

📝 at this point, attempting to deny that you have feelings for Taehyung is laughable. Even his subscribers can sense the chemistry between the two of you.

🗨️ not gonna lie, the smut had me dripping 🥵 So fucking perfect like the rest of the series! If you haven’t read it or the series… GET TO IT ✨

⭐A Christmas Fix one & two @yoonia [54.7k] // kth x f.reader // christmas!au, secret baby!au, second chance!au, s2l // 🥵🌩️🥰😂

📝 one-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.

🗨️ this is VERY DRAMA— but fuck I loved every single fucking line in this 😭 My heart was beating fast in my chest at time, times where I was flat out crying or wanting to pull my hair out. But that is exactly what I love about fanfiction and why I can’t recommend this enough!!! The plot was just exceptional, the storytelling was on point ✨

Also, please take a look at last year’s Taehyung recs right here for more 💜

⭐To Give a Helping Hand @oddinary4bts [1.8k] // jjk x f.reader // idol!au // 🥵

📝 when Jungkook comes home from the gym, he goes feral thinking about you.

🗨️ I don’t know where to begin… everything Ella writes is pure gold, why would this short one be any different? 🥵 I fucking loved it; it was hot and Jungkook was so needy! And you know what? I think she’s working on part two!!!!! ✨🥵 (seriously, can’t recommend this enough!!!)

⭐When Worlds Collide [ongoing series] @letjungcoook7 [14k] // jjk x f.reader // college!au, slice of life!au, s2l, fuckboy!jk, virgin!reader // 🥵🌩️

📝 since your mother's passing a year ago, life has been a whirlwind. balancing your passion for ballet with a low-key presence at college, where you’re the top student, was your norm until Jungkook stepped into your world. known for his reputation preceding him, jungkook is the talk of the campus with his casual rendezvous that have the girls buzzing. despite his allure, you're puzzled by his need for your tutoring prowess, especially given his own academic merit. yet, succumbing to his persistent requests, you reluctantly agree, only to find yourself thrust into the spotlight you've always avoided.

🗨️ I was so lucky to read this before it was posted and damn! Jungkook is shady in this one and it is so interesting to follow his relationship with MC. It is morally grey in it’s vibes, so if you’re into those type of things, I really recommend giving this a read ✨💜

⭐You’ve Got a Dog in Me @jimlingss [20k] // jjk x f.reader // food truck!au, s2l // 🥰😂

📝 life is relatively peaceful and productive as a CEO of your own business. You’re thriving. But when Jeon Jungkook sets up shop right next to you — it’s the fucking showdown of the century. HOT DOGS VERSUS CORN DOGS.

🗨️ omg omg omg this was just so fucking cute and funny 🥹🥰✨ loved it 💖 Like I was laughing so much while reading this! Highly recommend it!!

⭐Does he Know? @letjungcoook7 [1.7k]  // jjk x f.reader // cheating!au // 🥵

📝 things can get complicated when you're involved with your boyfriend's brother.

🗨️ okay— normally I stay away from cheating!aus… but this is written by a friend and I want to show my support! And you know what? It was fucking hot! 🥵 A lot of questionable actions, yes. But the smut 👏 I highly recommend this one too 💖

Also, please take a look at last year’s Jungkook recs right here for more 💜

I’m so sorry for not having read enough this month 😭 I’ve been so busy with writing and some personal health issues also came up… that I didn’t even meet my own reading quota and I feel bad 😢

I hope March will be a lot better reading wise, although I’m still writing My Heart’s Home, but after that, I think I’ll take a small break from writing and just go nuts with reading, because I miss that 🥲

If you want more, you’re more than welcome to follow me! I do monthly rec lists and sometimes I post my own writing too (only bangtan). 

Borahae 💜

[starlightvld]

Allowances

For @baohanhanesel - happy holidays! Have a little hurt/comfort, MacTavish family Christmas vibes, and Simon beginning to find his place among them (and a bit of sappy romance at the end).

(Also on AO3!)

---

"Dinnae fash, Simon. They're gonna love ye."

Ghost stands perfectly still beside the car as Johnny rounds the boot to step up beside him. They make a pair, with Johnny in a new bright red cable-knit sweater, jeans, and a navy blue knit cap that brings out the blue in his eyes, while Ghost is dressed down in his usual black shirt, black hoodie, and a black medical mask. His faded blue jeans are the only spark of color, as old and worn as Johnny's are crisp and new.

If he were a better person—a better partner—he would've worn something nicer. As it is, he's a split second away from turning around and disappearing into the Scottish twilight. The only thing keeping him rooted in place is—

A warm hand slips into his hoodie pocket and curls around his balled up fist. Ghost sucks in a deep, slow breath, and as he exhales, he releases the fist to clasp Johnny's hand palm to palm.

It terrifies him, the comfort a single touch can give. He knows how easily comfort can turn into soul-wrecking pain. Yet he clings to Johnny's hand with the kind of desperation Price would no doubt find concerning for a whole host of reasons.

"We dinnae have tae go inside," Johnny murmurs. "I can call mam from here and—"

"'M not gonna melt, Johnny. Just... gimme a minute."

He's already ruined Johnny's Christmas enough by bowing out of the actual holiday. But the aching despair of the anniversary always winnows him down to his basest self. Even three days later, he feels hollowed out and cold, his sole point of warmth the callused palm and strong fingers clinging to his as they huddle closer against the chill winter air.

Johnny doesn't know the sordid details, but he knows enough about special ops life to fill in the blanks. Every operator has their demons. Simon Riley's are just a little more harrowing than most.

At least the MacTavishes like to celebrate the winter season all the way through New Year's. Or so Johnny says. Ghost suspects the post-holiday get-together might be an allowance made specially for him, but he's certainly not going to ask about it. So here they are, standing in front of Johnny's childhood home outside of Glasgow, store-bought biscuits in hand, while a multi-colored glow spills through the frost-edged glass into the rapidly darkening outside world. It beckons them inside with the promise of warmth and joy and all the other things those trite holiday cards claim for the winter season.

Ghost doesn't move.

The blinking Christmas lights taunt him through the front window. Memories loom from the dark corners of his mind and threaten to upend the one thing he desperately wants to give Johnny—time with his family.

He takes another deep breath, taking care not to let the exhale shudder on the way out.

He's only met Emma and Grant MacTavish twice in passing at Johnny's medal ceremonies for Las Almas and then for the Chunnel op. The latter medal, a Victoria Cross, was officially for exceptional heroism in the line of duty and unofficially for assisting in the dismantling of a major bomb threat and taking down Makarov with a well-aimed stab. He and Johnny weren't in a relationship then, and even if they had been, it would've been inappropriate to mention it on base. Even so, he remembers the overflow of unearned gratitude in Emma's blue eyes—exactly like Johnny's—as she wrapped both of her warm hands around his and thanked him for keeping her boy alive.

The words still ring hollow as he thinks about Johnny collapsing on the cold concrete after clipping that final wire with Price.

He almost died in Ghost's arms that day, and Ghost hasn't been the same since. For one, he kissed his subordinate in the hospital the instant he thought Johnny was coherent enough to remember it and hasn't stopped kissing him since.

Completely unprofessional.

And utterly worth it.

With a final deep inhale and slow exhale, he straightens his shoulders. He can do this. Even if it makes his stomach cramp and his palms sweat with anxiety and the Christmas decorations seem to taunt him with memories of a family forever lost to him.

For Johnny, he can do this.

"Alright," Ghost murmurs—more to himself than to Johnny—as he slides their clasped hands from his hoodie pocket and pulls him toward the door.

It opens before they can knock, flinging brilliant light, excited conversation, and upbeat music into the night air. Emma MacTavish greets her son with a wordless exclamation of joy as she throws her arms around him in a tight hug. Somehow, Johnny manages to return the hug and answer rapid-fire questions about their journey all without letting go of Ghost's hand. Cold air pricks at the exposed skin around his medical mask, but Ghost is too focused on processing and cataloging every detail to acknowledge the physical discomfort.

Johnny looks more like Emma than he does Grant, sharing those bright blue eyes, dark hair, and a brilliant smile that could melt a glacier. Peas in a pod and, according to Soap, often partners in pranking crimes. All Ghost can see is warmth and light—pouring from her, from Johnny, from the home that was never riddled with suffering and people whose lives were never cut short by an evil too insidious to anticipate.

When Emma pulls back from Johnny, she keeps her hand curled around his bicep as she turns the full power of her warm gaze on Ghost.

"And Simon—may I call ye Simon?" Emma asks.

"Yeah," Ghost replies before clearing his throat and adding, "Hello, Mrs. MacTavish."

The smile she gives him sends a shock of pain through his chest even as a flood of comfort flows in behind to sooth the ache.

It's kind. Compassionate.

Motherly.

And it's directed at him.

It gets worse—or better?—when she reaches out to gently clasp his bicep too, connecting the three of them in a circle of touch. As if he's somehow a part of this world. As if he deserves a second chance at family despite dooming his own. The connection is both suffocating and freeing, as if he's taking his first breath of fresh air in years all while a boulder crushes his chest.

She squeezes his arm, and her smile widens into something familiar. Maybe a bit teasing, too.

"Call me Emma, love. I'm so glad yer here. Both of ye. Now, come in out of the cold, will ye? My bones are already aching."

Ghost flounders as the onslaught of pain and comfort slices straight through the layers of armor he's built up through the years, exposing his soft insides.

He wants to fall into the touch.

He wants to run away.

He meets Johnny's gaze, and the softness and understanding he finds there is a balm to his spiraling emotions. Despite everything inside screaming at him to shut down, to not let anyone else into that secret part of him that Johnny breached with the ease of a demolitions expert, Ghost is helpless to do anything but follow Emma inside.

For the first time since he lost his family, he dares to let himself hope.

-

Hours later, Johnny pulls Ghost into bed with a gentle hum, guiding his head to rest on his chest. The heavy thud under Ghost's ear is like scissors to a puppet's strings, snipping the tension away and leaving him boneless and overwhelmed.

"Alright?" Johnny murmurs in his ear before pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his head.

"Not made of glass," Ghost grumbles.

Johnny knows him too well to take him seriously, even now. "Nae, yer made of sterner stuff. Gunpowder, madness, and pure spite."

"Spite can be motivatin'. Just ask any of the rookies who've had me for drills."

Johnny hums a laugh, and Ghost presses his ear harder into Johnny's chest to catch every vibration. Fingers trail through his hair, and he sighs.

"How shite was that, scale of one to ten?"

"What?" Johnny mumbles, his lips once again pressed to the side of Ghost's head.

"How bad an impression did I make?"

A hand grasps his hair to gently tip his head up. Their eyes meet, and the genuine confusion in Johnny's expression gives Ghost hope.

That he didn't fuck everything up. That Johnny's family won't try to convince him to stay away from Ghost.

"Mam was absolutely charmed, Ghost. I think she'd adopt ye on the spot if she could."

Ghost blinks. He replays the evening in his head—from the homemade dinner to the impromptu after-dinner sing-along between Johnny and his niblings to the softer conversation between the adults once the children had crashed. He can't think of anything he did to warrant such a reaction. In fact he barely talked at all, content to let Johnny answer questions for both of them and only interjecting when someone spoke to him directly, which happened rarely enough that Ghost was positive Johnny had asked them to make allowances for him. He both hated and loved it—hated that it made him feel weak, like he couldn't handle himself or his emotions, but loved that Johnny was clearly thinking about him and ensuring he would be as comfortable as possible.

He doesn't deserve it. Doesn't deserve Johnny at all if he's being honest with himself. The man is too good—all righteous fire and burning passion. But with that honesty comes the acknowledgment that he's far too selfish to ever give Johnny up.

At this thought, a faint memory surfaces of Emma's soft look when Ghost wrapped his arm around Johnny's shoulders as they settled on the couch. It's how they always sit when on leave because they can't risk it on base. Ghost loves the feeling of their bodies melding together, a line of heat at his side and Johnny close enough for Ghost to mumble inappropriate comments, bad jokes, and blush-inducing innuendo into Johnny's ear.

Apparently Emma MacTavish thinks it's a good thing, too.

"Well. Good then?"

Johnny hums another laugh, making Ghost's cheek buzz. "It is good, love. Very good." He tightens his arm around Ghost's shoulders. "Thank ye for coming with me."

Ghost swallows. Despite their solid relationship status, they haven't exchanged more than joking admissions of their mutual attraction. He feels the lack all the more as the worst of his holiday malaise falls away in the face of so much care and affection. Something wiggles loose in his chest, a sensation of free falling as his lips form words he hasn't said since before Roba took his family from him.

"Thought you woulda figured out by now that you've got me wrapped around that trigger finger of yours." He swallows. Takes a shaking breath. "You're the only thing alive in this world that I love."

Johnny stills under him. Even his chest is unmoving, breaths locked up with a quick inhale.

And then it all comes out in a rush.

"Simon... d'ye mean tha'?"

And though it means losing the comforting thud of Johnny's heart in his ear, Ghost answers by leaning up, gripping Johnny's chin with his fingers, and pressing a soft kiss to slack lips. When he pulls back, Johnny is staring at him, tears welling in his blue eyes and a wide grin replacing his shocked expression.

"Love ye, too, ye big bastart," Johnny whispers before diving in for another kiss.

And maybe it's not perfect in an objective sense. Maybe he still misses his family and what could have been. But in this moment—with this man and his gracious family who went out of their way to make him feel welcome—it's the closest to perfection he's ever been.

[herrmannhalsteadproduction]

A Kinley Christmas Carol (Chapter One)

buck/tommy | rated: T | chapter one of five | work in progress | ao3

Chapter One

The shift was dead, to begin with.

The kind of dead where Tommy was ready to stand in the middle of the hangar and scream the Q-word at the top of his lungs. He needed a call, any call, but preferably one that would take them into overtime.

Anything to stop him from having to pack up and leave when the clock struck eight pm.

He shook his head, giving himself a mental kick in the ass.

How pathetic could he be? Wishing for some stranger’s tragedy just so he could avoid going home? They didn’t deserve that. Neither did the rest of his crew who actually had people waiting for them, wanting to celebrate the festive fucking season.

It wasn’t their fault Tommy had screwed up his life so royally that he couldn’t bear to be alone with himself and yet, alone was all he was ever going to be.

[continue reading on ao3]

[r-tozierness]

Reddie during the holidays. Reddie during the holidays. Reddie during the holidays.

You're telling me these two aren't curled up on the couch under an old throw blanket Richie stole from Maggie when he moved out for college watching reruns of shitty lifetime holiday movies because they can't be bothered to change it (won't stop Eddie from complaining about how the plot is horrible and the same in every movie)? You're telling me they're not making hot cocoa and (slightly burnt) cookies? You're telling me Richie doesn't absolutely deck out the house for Christmas and make sure that Eddie gets wrapped up in doing it with him because he wants to do whatever he can to make Eddie make good holiday memories instead of the ones of being trapped in a house with Sonia Kaspbrak because it was just 'too cold' outside for Eddie to leave the house? You're telling me they're not kissing under the mistletoe Richie meticulously put up because it's 'tradition' (no other reason ofc)? You're telling me Richie isn't the king of gag gifts and also, somehow, the most thoughtful ones? You're telling me they're not wearing cringe Christmas sweaters (most likely Richie's doing, but Eddie loves him so he lets it happen. plus it's cold)?

Lie to someone else.

[stevesbipanic]

Home for Christmas

MY BIG BANG FIC IS FINALLY HERE!!!!

Chapter 1 is now up on Ao3!

Excerpt:

“I’m fine, Robs, really, this is normal for me; as long as you bring back some of your Nan’s gingerbread, I’ll be just as happy as last year.”

“I just feel bad thinking of you in that big house, Steve, should’ve snuck you into my suitcase.”

“You’re home in four days; you’ll barely notice my absence.”

“I’m worried about you noticing mine.”

“I’ll see you on Monday, Robbie, love you.”

“Love you too, dingus, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Art by @rasberrycolapop

More chapters to come with the final chapter on Christmas Day!

[posallys]

the lost christmas 1.3k | could-be canon | set during the lost hero

the holidays are a time for family; or, how annabeth and sally spend their christmas the year percy goes missing

And that’s what gets Annabeth to move herself to a sitting position, to get her feet on the floor. She brushes her teeth and pads down the hallway and into the kitchen. The little radio on the kitchen counter is on, some cheesy Christmas song floating through the air, and Sally flips another pancake before spinning to look at her. Annabeth notices the ring of red around her eyes, even with the warm smile trying hard to conceal it.  “Morning, sweetheart,” Sally says, her voice a balm. “There’s a pot of coffee over on the table if you want some. Breakfast is almost ready, too.”  Annabeth’s heart clenches in her chest. “Thank you so much, Ms. Jackson.” The simple phrase doesn’t do justice to the gratitude Annabeth feels, but Sally smiles at her, the same knowing smile that Percy gives her on occasion, and she knows that Sally understands the words Annabeth can’t seem to say.

read on ao3

[transbrucewayne]

CHARLOS CHRISTMAS IN NEW YORK FIC

[yoonia]

🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹

With a gasp, you reach up and touch your cheeks. Realising quickly that she is right. You are burning up. Except instead of burning from a fever, your body is growing hot from the inside for a different kind of reason.  You are burning from being drowned in your dirty thoughts and recounting all the pleasure that you felt from back then. To be thinking about all the wanton things that you shared with— [A Christmas Fix - Taehyung x reader]

for every “🌹” i’ll post one random sentence from my WIP

[sayorseee]

UM HELLO WHY HAS NO WRITTEN A FIC OF HENRY HUNTING DOWN DREX???

[quicktimeeventfull]

You Can Make Me Cry on Danforth Avenue: A Lawlight Christmas Fic

3k words Read here or on AO3 Content Notes: Set in Canada. Features nonbinary Light & a touch of hurt/comfort. A standalone set in the Nantes Extended Universe (hand me your hand etc.) In which L entirely forgets that Christmas Eve is a romantic holiday in Japan and therefore might mean something to his partner, Light, an international student from Kanto. Light throws a bit of a fit; L scrambles to find a suitable date.

It was clear that Light wanted something, but L could not sort out what it was. Xie had been following him around their apartment all day, close as a cat and just as underfoot.

He had tried asking outright — they were nineteen and twenty respectively, and therefore old enough to hash things out like adults. It was to no avail. All he’s gotten in return was a noncommittal murmur. Apparently part of what Light wanted was for L to figure out xir desires on his own.

And so, bereft of any other option, L had decided the only thing to do was to exercise patience.

It was nearly six PM and he was busily washing the dishes in their kitchen while Light sat on their counter, not helping, when Light finally said, “Where are you taking me for Christmas?”

L looked up, startled. Christmas was in three days. “I hadn’t been — did you want to go somewhere?”

It was the wrong thing to say. Light flushed, and looked away.

It occurred to L, for the first time, that Light might have been thinking of this as a romantic holiday rather than what L generally considered it, which was to say a somewhat cruel expose of everyone’s trauma. Light was an international student in from Kanto; L was given to understand that Christmas over there was closer to Valentine’s day.

“I’m sorry,” he said, more gently this time. “I didn’t realize you’d wanted to do anything. I should have asked. I set up a client. It’s a big day for me, in that sense.”

There were a lot of lonely people around Christmas. He charged a premium on the night before, and then he had a date with Watari on the day-of. Watari was the only person it was profitable enough to sugar for, and anyway L liked him. He was reliable and polite and safe, his favourite client by far.

It simply hadn’t occurred to him that he might be wanted elsewhere.

Light kicked xir feet. “It’s my first one as a girl,” xie said.

L’s heart sunk.

“Ah,” he said. Then, running through options in his head. “Alright. Look. I’ll move things around. The eve is the couple’s bit, isn’t it?”

For a moment, Light didn’t move at all. Then xie nodded, so quickly and slightly that it seemed conveying this information to l was a bit of a chore.

“I’ll move things around,” L said. “I’m sorry. Really.”

Light said nothing. L dried off his hands, then walked over. He hoisted himself up onto the counter. He did not look at Light. Light always seemed to find that easier.

“I’m sorry,” he said, again. “I didn’t think of it — that’s all. I wouldn’t have scheduled anything if I had.”

Light kicked xir feet. L went on.

“I want to spend the day with you,” he said. “I promise. I’ll sort it out. I’m probably stuck for Christmas day, but I can work out the night before, and I’ll be there in the morning.”

Light looked away, which was actually a good thing — when Light was really mad, xie ignored L entirely.

“Forgive me?” L said. “Please?”

Light bit xir lip, then, finally, turned to him. “Yeah,” he said. “Okay. Fine.”

Then xie leaned over and dropped xir head onto L’s shoulder. Something in L unknotted. He wrapped an arm around Light’s waist, then decided to test his luck by kissing xir temple.

Light let him, so he supposed things must have been alright.

---

Just about everything in their city closed down for the holidays — the joys and tribulations of little cities — so L elected to bring Light down to Toronto.

It seemed clear that Light hadn’t entirely forgiven him after all. Xie wouldn’t look at him the entire ride down on the GO train, which wasn’t necessarily unusual for Light, but did feel somewhat concerning.

He’d kept his morning appointment, but cancelled the evening one entirely. This was not an action without consequence. He charged a fair bit, and he liked to provide a consistent service. This was a good client. L did not want to lose him. It wasn’t only about the money he’d make today, although that was a bit of a blow. Without a pool of good clients, he would be forced to take chances on people who weren’t; he did not wish to return to living that way.

Still. Light was right. He should have asked, first.

He led Light down to the aquarium, then brought him down through the deep dark rooms of fish and into the glass tunnel. It was dark, lit and ethereal blue, and there were sharks and turtles and all manner of aquatic life swimming around them. It was quite magical, really. Romantic. On Christmas Eve, it was nearly empty — there was only one other couple, who were just around the curve of the tunnel, their bodies distorted silhouettes through the water. L thought he’d done quite a good job, here.

“This has nothing to do with Christmas,” Light said.

L turned to look at xim, trying very hard not to let his exasperation show.

Light had left their apartment dressed very nicely, in grey chinos and the nice black turtleneck which made xir neck look very long. Right now, all that was covered up with the giant black Canada Goose jacket which L had bought for xim and which xie had refused to check. The aquarium was far too hot for that, and xir face was a little pink from the heart. It would have been cute if xie wasn’t — frankly — acting like such a brat.

L was trying to be nice. He really was.

He reminded himself, once again, that this was his fault. He had screwed up. He couldn’t be mad at Light for being upset.

“You love fish,” L said. “Fish are wonderful.”

Light looked away, then hunched up xir shoulders.

“Okay,” said L. “Look. Let’s — do you want to go touch a stingray?” They had tanks out front.

Light’s lips pressed together. “Fine,” xie said.

L reached for xir hand. Xie snatched it away.

So, L decided, his hopes of being forgiven were a little premature after all. He pressed two fingers to either side of his nose bridge, then followed Light as xie stomped off to play with the stingrays.

---

Their next stop was the Christmas market. This time, L wasn’t naïve enough to expect things to have resolved, but surely xie could not be upset at the lack of Christmas.

The Christmas market was in the Distillery district, which had once been — as the name implied — a distillery.

It looked like something out of a Dickens novel — all red brick and with iron fixtures painted a deep green, the roads paved in brick, now strung with Edison bulbs which glowed warm in the dark. The winding streets were now lined with vendors in little tents selling street food and little Christmas tchotchkes.

It was romantic. It was Christmassy. Light was walking alongside L, arms crossed tightly over xir chest, lips pressed into a harsh line.

L was going to lose his mind.

“Isn’t this nice?” he said, as pleasantly as he could manage. “I always think the Distillery is so beautiful this time of year.”

“It’s cold,” Light said. It was three below. “There are too many people.”

“Let’s get you something to eat,” L said.

He headed down the alleyways, towards a tiny building with a chalkboard sign outside advertising drinking chocolate. That seems suitably romantic and Christmasy, and also suitably filled with sugar, which he dearly hoped might do something to benefit Light’s mood.

The interior of the building was warm and smelled intensely of cocoa and pine. It was stuffed with boughs of evergreen and holly and little vintage decorations — wooden ornaments painted in wam colours, hand-pounded tin lanterns, dipped candles hanging upside-down.

There was hardly enough room to turn around in, and Light stood so close to L that he was nearly knocked over, so at least xie wasn’t too repulsed to be in his vicinity.

L bought them both a cup of drinking chocolate. He handed one to Light, who sipped at it and then, looking startled, spat it back into the cup, right in front of the woman who sold it to them. She looked profoundly offended.

“Don’t —” L started. “What was wrong with that?”

“It’s not hot chocolate,” Light said.

“No. It’s drinking chocolate.”

Light looked away. “But you drink hot chocolate.”

“I know, but it’s something different. I’m sorry. I should have explained.” L took a sip from his. It was heavy and bitter and not at all bad, but he supposed it could be alarming if one were not prepared. “Do you — ah — I suppose you don’t like it very much.”

“It’s disgusting,” Light said. “I hate it.” He handed his spit coffee, to L, then turned and stalked out of the building.

L was at a loss.

---

A wiser man might have called the night off altogether, but L lived in hope. There was one more stop on his increasingly disastrous plan — Kingyo, a Japanese restaurant in Cabbagetown.

He was starting to get a little frustrated, frankly. He had made an error, it was true, but it had been a mistake and not an act of malice. Surely there had to be an end to his penance.

Light got like this, sometimes. Xie had a very easy life. L would be lying if he said he’d never thought about this with resentment. So very little had gone wrong for xim. Xie didn’t know how to handle it when things went sideways; xie expected everything to be laid with roses.

“Look,” L said, as Light sunk low into xir seat. “Should we just go home?”

“No,” Light said. It’s fine. I don’t care.”

L shut his eyes, then breathed out and picked up his menu. He fervently hoped this would be the best meal they’d ever had un their lives. Perhaps it was possible to feed Light something so delicious that xie would never be unhappy again.

They had a table in the back of the restaurant; it was surprisingly private. Kingyo was a gigantic restaurant, dimly lit, outfitted with lacquered wood and raw brick walls. A projector silently played Japanese children’s shows along one concrete wall — right now, it was showing Anpanman. It had a slouching, semi-ironic casual air to it, as if it had simply thrown together its rough wood floors and the noren curtains between entranceways. Cool? it seemed to say. I hadn’t noticed.

Light picked up xir menu, too. “These aren’t Izakaya foods,” xie said.

“I know,” L told him, as patiently as he could manage. “Izakayas in Canada are like this.”

“It’s wrong,” Light said, correctly but infuriatingly.” They really should have gone home, L decided. This was a disaster. “You’re paying for this, right.”

“It’s a date,” L said. “We’re on a Christmas Eve date. That is what you —” He inhaled, then exhaled, scanned his menu. “Oh, they’ve got fried chicken for Christmas. Isn’t that nice?”

“That’s tomorrow,” Light said. “You eat it tomorrow. Everyone keeps telling me about KFC. I don’t want anyone to tell me about KFC anymore.”

“Okay,” said L. He reminded himself that he loved Light very, very much.

---

They got grilled mackerel and a negitoro combination — or, more precisely, L ordered both these things and Light sat back in xir seat, drinking the hot sake L had also ordered.

“Look,” L said, finally, two tuna rolls in. “Please eat something. You’ll feel better if you eat.”

“I’m fine,” Light said. “I’m happy. It’s an Izakaya. You’re supposed to drink. You aren’t supposed to eat maki.” Then, abruptly, “I can’t believe you forgot.”

L put his chopsticks down. This was what he’s been waiting for all day.

“Look,” he said. “I’m sorry. I really am. But it was one mistake —”

“—and you still went to work this morning.”

“Light. I have to work.”

“No, you don’t.”

L pinched the bridge of his nose. “Our landlord would disagree. He generally takes rent in money.”

“But you didn’t have to work this morning. You pick your clients. You cancelled tonight.”

L felt anger flash hot and bright.

He didn’t feel anger very often. He didn’t feel anything most of the time, in fact — the world usually seemed quite abstracted to him, something moving tremulously in the distance. It made things easier. But he did feel this.

“Light,” he said. “I did that. I did cancel tonight. I did that for you. And that sort of thing — it makes me look unreliable. He’s a good client. I can’t risk two good clients.”

“And you’re still seeing someone tomorrow —”

“I need to, Light. I can’t lose Watari.” Then, his anger growing sharper, making him stupid. “You don’t understand. You aren’t even trying to understand. I can’t throw away everyone I know for certain is safe. You need to think about what you’re asking me to do.”

Light’s face went a little slack. As a rule, he didn’t like to talk about the aspects of his job that were dangerous; he didn’t like to force Light to think about them. But then it hardened again and L knew xie was shuttering that information away. Xie was very good at making anything xie didn’t like to think about disappear.

Xie picked up one of the negitoro and popped it into xir mouth. This was good, at least, because L highly doubted the situation would be improved by Light drinking nothing but sake on an empty stomach.

Xir face contorted. Xie swallowed, then looked up at L.

“That was shit. This is disgusting.”

L could feel himself flushing; pins and needles swept up and down his body. The world suddenly felt at once very close and utterly out of his grasp; he leaned forwards and hissed, “You are acting like a spoiled child —”

Light burst into tears.

For a moment, he felt frozen, unable to think of a single thing to say. Light covered xir face with his hands, as if this would somehow prevent anyone from seeing.

The anger drained out of him, replaced with a rush of guilt.

“Hey,” L said, He leaned forwards. “I’m sorry. Light. I really am.”

Light mumbled something through xir tears. It was too muddy to hear.

L hesitated. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t catch that.”

“You take me for — for —,” Light started, stuttering over the words, then swallowed and took xir hands away. Xie wiped at xir eyes with the back of xir hands, swallowed, then switched to Japanese. “You take me for granted. You just assume I’m going to be okay with everything.”

It took L a second to translate, and another to find his own words in Japanese. He was very fluent, but it was still a second language, and one he didn’t have much practise in.

“Oh. Light. No. That isn’t true.”

“It is,” Light said, more insistent. Xir was speaking louder and steadier, now. “It is. You think I understand everything you do so it’s all fine. And I do understand. But it’s not fine.” Xie tugged xir sleeve ofter xir hand and wiped at xir eyes. “Everything is different here.” Xie jerked xir head towards the maki. “It doesn’t taste like it does at home. I can’t go back for New Years. I have to talk in English all the time and I’m tired and everyone acts like I’m stupid when I don’t know every word. I wanted just — Christmas is a big holiday. I know it’s not mine but I wanted to try anyway.”

L was getting a little lightheaded. He had been aware of these things, sort of, but they hadn’t coalesced.

“I didn’t realize,” he said, softly.

“I know you didn’t. You were supposed to realize. I’m not supposed to have to tell you every single thing. You should know some things.”

“I know,” L said. “I’m sorry.”

Light wiped at xir eyes again. “I’m hungry. I didn’t eat all day.”

“I know. Maybe you could give that a shot now.”

Light picked up another negitoro and ate it. “It really isn’t very good.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It should have realized it wouldn’t stack up and brought you elsewhere.” It was good, actually, but he felt it was the right thing to say in the present circumstances. Light was right — it probably wasn’t compared to what xie was used to.

Apparently he was right because Light nodded, looking pacified, and took another.

“I didn’t realize you were having such a hard time,” L said. “I should have.”

Light shrugged. It seemed as much an acceptance as a condemnation. Sometimes the two were the same. To be told he’d done wrong was its own sort of love, sometimes.

“Maybe we ought to go home after this,” L said. “Perhaps it’s been enough.”

“I guess. Yeah.” Then xie bit the inside of xir cheek. “But they have ginger ice cream.”

L couldn’t help himself; he smiled. “Okay. Yes. We should get ginger ice cream, and then we should head home.”

Light nodded, wiped at xir eyes again, and ate another roll.

---

On the way back home, surrounded by the rattling of the GO train, the brightness of the train turning the view outside into an incoherent blackness, Light sunk into L’s arms and shut xir eyes.

Xie looked exhausted. L supposed xie must be.

Sometimes the way Light behaved was infuriating, but L knew it wasn’t easy for xim either; it wasn’t something xie was doing on purpose. Things overtook xim — strangling emotions and words and actions. L could understand that. It came part and parcel. L stroked xir hair and Light made a soft noise, then pressed closer.

Xir eyes were fluttering. L wrapped an arm around xim to keep him close and safe — his love, his beautiful girl, half asleep in the warmth of his arms.

[herrmannhalsteadproduction]

A Kinley Christmas Carol (Chapter Two)

buck/tommy | rated: T | chapter two of five | work in progress | ao3

The long-forgotten scent of spiced hot chocolate pulled him out of a deep, dreamless sleep.

“Tommy,” a voice called. One he never thought he’d get to hear again. “Time to wake up, cucciolino.”

It was the nickname that yanked him the rest of the way into fully-conscious. Tommy’s eyes flew open as he sat up and blinked at the person sitting at the end of his bed.

“Nonna Sofia?” His breath caught as he stared at her, drinking in all of the details that time had worn away in his memories. “You’re—how are you—”

“I know that interesting gentleman in the nice hat told you I was coming,” she said, patting his leg with a smile. “Look at you. So grown up. So handsome.”

“Is this real?” Tommy scrambled to move closer because even if this was a dream or another hallucination, he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to hug her one more time.

Choked back a little sob when he was actually able to do so.

“It’s real enough,” Nonna Sofia said, squeezing him tight. “Oh, my Tommy. You lost your way a bit, hm?”

“No, I—” Tommy sniffed as he pulled away, wiping at his eyes. “I know what I’m doing and it’s for the best, trust me.”

“So grown up, so handsome, and so stubborn.” She tweaked his chin. “I guess some things never change. Except—” She braced a hand on his shoulder as she stood up from the bed. “Tonight, everything must change and we have so little time to do it. Come, come, come.” Nonna Sofia motioned for him to follow as she shuffled forward…to the bathroom?

“Is this really something you need two people for or—”

She wrapped a hand around his wrist with an iron grip, cutting off his protests and yanking him forward as she stepped through the doorway—

And out onto a sunny, quiet street.

Tommy looked around at the run down, but tidy houses lining the block and knew, with a sinking heart, exactly where they were. “Why?” he whispered to Nonna Sofia.

She slipped her hand into his and started down the sidewalk. “You know why,” she said. “You have to see. Look!” She pointed at a house with a cheery wreath hanging on a faded yellow door, eyes crinkling up as she burst into a pleased grin. “It’s the day we met.”

[continue reading on ao3]

[rowanisawriter]

sunk cost

illario&lucanis, illario/zara — 2.4k words of toxicity and regret

for @bharv

.

Lucanis liked the city, or maybe just the type of job the city lended itself to. Blood mages, slavers, the type of killing that made Lucanis feel pure, or something. Illario balls his hand into a tight fist and feels a rush of hot energy build there, the blood in his own hand powering him, strengthening him. What would Lucanis do to him now, another blood magic user in Vyrantium. Another target. Another thing to kill.

More power, Zara had promised him, and she had delivered, but Illario shoves his hands deep into his pockets and looks out at the sea, at the place where Lucanis’s little boat had been boarded by Zara’s pets, and he tries to ignore the humming of power in his veins, the warning and the promise, the cost.

Illario in Vyrantium, Lucanis-less.

[everythingisawayoflife]

the writer in me…she’s cooking…i think this is the longest thing ive written yet. i shall leave a sample below so i’m satisfied with sharing at least a little bit before i post the full thing (this to me takes place in the new batman adventures universe but feel free to imagine otherwise):

Dick is worried. Tim isn’t the chattiest kid but he can certainly hold a conversation. Dick’s tried everything: school, movies, TV, even casework. All he’s gotten are some unenthused grunts and hums. Tim may not biologically be Bruce’s kid but he sure does take after the guy. He cleaned up a bit before leaving and there’s a little bit of color back in his face but he still looks tired. Devastatingly so. Dick keeps stealing glances at his little brother in the passenger seat of the car. His arms are folded tightly against his abdomen, as if he’s protecting his stomach from something and a slight shiver courses through his body despite Tim bundling up with at least three layers, a scarf, a hat, and very thick gloves. The kid’s got to be cooking in his makeshift snowsuit, but then again…

They’re stopped at a red light. Five minutes out from the mall, three minutes out from the nearest urgent care.

Dick steals another glance towards Tim and decides to reroute to the clinic, get him checked out. Dick tuts quietly, it’s a shame he’s starting to come down with something right before Christmas, right before his first Christmas with them. Dick’s been in his shoes before; falling in a pond ice skating with Barbara. She managed to be just fine whereas he spent Christmas on Bruce’s couch laid up with pneumonia. He hardly remembers that Christmas from being so damn delirious but he remembers the warmth that wasn’t from fever. It was familial. The whole time he remembers being with someone. It was hard to deduce who was with him when but he was never alone. And if Tim was about to go through what he had been through, or something similar, he’d need them. But first, Dick just wanted to check for a fever in the first place. All signs pointed to one but Dick wasn’t sure yet. Careful not to wake the sleeping boy, Dick reaches out for Tim’s forehead.

HONK!

Dick quickly retracts his hand and places it back on the wheel, pressing the gas. To the mall. Tim doesn’t jolt awake but the car horn is clearly loud enough to stir him. He blinks slowly with a grimace, like he’s in pain.

“Are we there yet?” Tim asks, pitifully quiet. Like talking louder than a whisper would kill him.

“Almost, Tim, you can go back to sleep for a bit,” Dick says, taking a left towards the mall.

Tim makes a disapproving noise. “I wasn’t sleeping.”

Hm. Denial is the path he’s choosing here.

“Are you sure? Your eyes were closed and you weren’t talking. Telltale signs of sleeping to me,” Dick says lightly, trying not to come off like he’s interrogating Tim.

Tim laughs a little. “Nope, just resting my eyes.”

“Okay, old man. You’re too young to rest your eyes. Resting your eyes is for old people. Just look at Bruce.”

“Hn.”

“Oh my gosh, B, is that you?” This gets a more hearty laugh from Tim. It’s the most awake he’s looked since this morning.

alrighty thats all im posting, im gonna show the utmost restraint until i actually finish this thing.

[facewithoutheart]

Snow for Christmas (Dinner)

For @bookish-bogwitch

[Teen, 1.4k, Established Relationship, Borderline Exhibitionism, Vampire Bites, Crack]

It’s Christmas at the Pitch’s new Oxford mansion. Simon’s not worried he’ll end up on the menu.

He’s counting on it.

AKA the Snow For Christmas fix-it fic where Baz’s fangs actually do come out at dinner but everyone’s like, weirdly into it.

Read on ao3

[horsetailcurlers2]

i know addison is far from innocent and did her fair share of hurting but i just saw a screen grab from the season 2 xmas episode of greys anatomy (i think it was called “grandma got run over by a reindeer” ?) and there is just something so fucking gutting about the image of addison with that big genuine smile on her face when she sees derek at joe’s, with her hot buttered rum and her stack of catalogs and her cute little white sweater, just knowing that he is about to sit down and tell her that he was in love with meredith and that it doesn’t “just go away” because he decided to make his marriage work.