#happy holidays fam jam!!

[rubyteacos]

➤ Mr. Grinch! | Beyond Birthday & Naomi Misora CMV

Happy holidays, Another Note fam. The jam freak is back!! And this time he's not alone 👀

[neverwritewhatyouknow]

Someone sent me an ask, but it’s not letting me share it for some reason (I’m on my computer rn instead of mobile, so that’s probably why), but I wanted to answer this quickly.

The Ask was:

Hey! I know you’ve posted about how Rachel isn’t Jewish but how do you know? Is it all from instagram? Sorry if you’ve already said, I tried to scroll through everything but there’s a lot. Thanks!

————

Hi! Sorry I couldn’t answer this the usual way, hope this is okay. It’s partly from Instagram, like that was where I found some of the most solid visual evidence of her not being Jewish (I.e. pictures from only Christian holidays in the past and present, including a month before her audition for Nora), but the very first thing I found was actually an article written a few years ago where her mom talked about how involved in church Rachel was at the time. If you google search “Rachel Hilson Church” or “Rachel Hilson Good Wife,” it comes up first thing. Then I found other stuff of Rachel calling herself a church girl, and mentioning Christian stuff online (twitter and insta, both gone now, but I have screenshots). I’ve had DMs from multiple people who have told me that they’ve seen Rachel (and her family) at church. I’ve sleuthed online and found solid evidence that agrees with the DMs about the family attending church frequently.

Based on all the findings online, it was seen that her mom (and her fam) is not Jewish, nor is Rachel’s sister. Her dad himself has nothing I can find directly, but he does attend services and does all the holidays with the rest of the family, plus his mom and sister both are Christian as well- so it’s rightful to assume he is too. The entire family is very active in church and church happenings (which come up on Google with a search about Rachel or their church).

There’s nothing wrong with being Christian, like if that’s your jam, that’s great. But when the character is Jewish canonically and is the only character to not be played by an actor of the same minority ethnicity as the character… well… it kinda becomes a big deal. Because it literally becomes Jew-erasure.

The proof is ironclad. At this point everyone needs to express (politely, kindly, educationally) to Amazon and the production about how this is not okay. How it’s antisemitic to erase Jews.

Hope I answered the question, Anon. As always, if you have any questions just lmk. Happy almost Hanukkah to everyone!!

[canadianfamilylife]

Hey all!!! I am very new to this so please bare with me as I learn. I live on the east coast of Canada and am a Mom. So you can only imagine the kinda chaos we get up too!!

I hope you all had an amazing Christmas and that 2023 is treating you well so far. The fam jam and I had a great holiday and quiet new year thankfully.

Decided to start the year off trying new things and taking myself out of my comfort zones so I started a YouTube channel and Instagram as well. Just trying to find ways of dealing with every day life and the fun and bad times life can throw at us.

I lost my Mom back in Sept. She passed away the weekend that hurricane Fiona hit us here on the east coast. She lived in Ontario and I had no way of getting there to see her before she passed. And the storm knocked out power so trying to deal with that on top of her dying was over whelming. Luckily I have a very supportive family and they helped me through my grieving and have even jumped in on trying this YouTube stuff out. So we are all learning together.

I am not sure what I will end up posting or if I will just keep it a hodge podge of everything from new recipes to old favourites to daily life to trying out life hacks or trending stuffs to helping people grieve and just be happy.

Thanks for joining me here and if your interested my Youtube or Instagram feel free to look me up, same name as here.

Again I am just starting off and learning so join me and my family as we grow and just enjoy life as life is too short to take it so seriously!!!!

[bevioletskies]

what a wonderful world

characters: peter/gamora, guardians-centric

summary: the guardians’ last holiday season had been spent in jail on an alien planet (don’t ask), so peter’s determined to make their first real christmas on earth the best it can be. which, of course, means secret santa. and snowball fights. and baking cookies. and yeah, okay, maybe he’s getting a little ambitious.

word count: 25.4k

a/n: quick disclaimer - i had the plot outline of this fic done back in september and finished writing this in mid-november, so any resemblance to other people’s christmas fic, especially the 12 days of starmora, is purely coincidential. there are only so many holiday-related concepts haha

if you haven’t read the main fic, all you need to know is: the guardians attend a superhero school on earth, and therefore are approximately ten years younger than their movie counterparts. peter and gamora are in an established relationship after being in a fake one for a few months.

unlike the other one-shots, this is more a collection of vignettes than a linear story. everything is still in chronological order, but it’s implied that there’s a gap between each segment, and there’s no overarching plot other than, you know, christmas. happy holidays, everybody!

title comes from the song what a wonderful world by louis armstrong.

ao3 | tag | masterpost

“Oh, what a ni-i-ight,” Peter sang, hopping up onto the kitchen counter in the process. “Late December, back in '63…” A sudden slam on the table behind him caused him to nearly tumble right off the edge, his voice coming to an abrupt stop with a high-pitched squeal that he couldn’t say he was proud of. He turned slowly, wincing a little at the sound of his pant pocket studs dragging across the countertop.

“Peter, it’s too early for this nonsense,” Gamora said sternly. “I’d like at least another hour of sleep before we have to go check on the engine.”

“Dance with me, honey!” Beaming, he leaped back onto the floor and took her hands in his in one swoop, doing what she supposed was meant to be an intentionally awful impression of a jig, swinging her about the living room with reckless abandon. “But I was never gonna be the same, what a lady, what a night…”

“Did you drink an entire pot of coffee this morning? Or maybe some motor oil? What is happening? Even you aren’t usually this...hyper.” Gamora reluctantly allowed him to pull her closer, his hands coming to rest on the small of her back. She softened at the touch, knowing it was difficult to be mad at him when he was simply just eager to celebrate. “Peter…”

“Indulge me for like, one minute. Please.”

Oh, what a night...hypnotizing, mesmerizing me...she was everything I dreamed she'd be...sweet surrender, what a night…

“Fine, but we’re fixing that engine as soon as we’re done. I can’t imagine it didn’t ice over during last night’s snowfall,” she sighed as they slowed to a two-step, resting her head on his shoulders, standing slightly on her toes to reach. Her arms wound around his middle, clasping behind his back, inhaling the scent of the gingerbread cologne Mantis had gotten him as an early Christmas present. She usually wasn’t one for sweet scents, but secretly, she had gotten so comfortable nestled in Peter’s embrace that even the worst of perfumes couldn’t deter her for long.

Peter leaned down into her, nuzzling his face into her neck. “Of course, Gamora. Whatever you want.” He hummed quietly. “Love you.”

Her gaze flickered around the room briefly before landing back on the boy tucked against her. “I love you, too.”

Oh, what a night...why'd it take so long to see the light...seemed so wrong, but now it seems so right...what a lady, what a night…

Once the song was over, the two of them bundled up in their warmest winter coats and gingerly made their way off the Milano onto the loading bay, where they could get a proper look at the damage done during the night. It was mid-December, exams had finished, and most students had already left campus to go home for the holidays to be with their families. For the Guardians, “home” and “family” meant staying right here on this very ship. A ship that was currently dripping with wet, messy slush.

“Are you sure we don’t need Rocket?” Gamora asked. “He would be much better suited to this sort of thing.”

“You try draggin’ him out here in this weather,” Peter retorted. “If it was up to me, we’d all be hiding out in the dorms and leave the Milano alone for the next couple weeks, but he refuses to leave. Snow’s pretty heavy this year.”

“And once again, you and I are responsible for making food and supply runs,” she sighed, picking up a snow scraper and beginning to work on a large section of icy buildup over the engine’s hatch. “They complain about never getting to spend time with us, and yet they never come along when we actually go anywhere, arguably the best time to talk.”

“Well, we’ve got two full weeks ahead of us,” he said, flinging his arms out dramatically and nearly spraying her with snow in the process. “That's tons of time for just hanging out, even with our ship frozen over. At least it gives us an excuse to cancel all our jobs.”

Gamora’s gloved fingers slid over the hatch’s door handle, tightening their grip. She braced herself with one foot against the side of the ship and yanked - hard. The door opened with a violently high-pitched shriek, causing Peter to jump and clasp his hands over his ears. “And yet, we’re still working.”

“I think I’m deaf now,” Peter said dizzily, rubbing his palms over his temples. “You’ve deafened me.”

“This might be the worst way to spend our anniversary,” she continued, ignoring Peter’s antics as she began poking around inside with her wrench. “But at least I’m becoming more competent at this sort of thing, you know, working on the ship. At least, that’s what Rocket says, and the fact he even thought to say so tells me it’s actually true.”

“Hey, you remembered,” he grinned, moving forward to squeeze her hips affectionately. “I wasn’t gonna bring it up, but - ”

“ - but you thought I wouldn’t want to hear it,” she finished, turning to face him. “I know, I know. Peter, I promise I’m as invested in this relationship as you are. It’s just that I find anniversaries to be a superficial celebration of the passage of time, that’s all. I enjoy milestones, accomplishments, instead. They’re much more memorable than a singular date on the calendar to me. They mean more.”

“I get it. I totally get it. And you’ve always been a goal-setter.” He gently kissed her on the nose, sliding his arms around her once more. There was something immensely comforting about holding her close. “What’s been your favorite milestone so far?”

She chewed on her lip in consideration, thinking his question over, her hands coming to settle on his chest. “The first time we woke up together as a couple. You rolled right over, held me just like this, and said what I had been thinking - that it felt like we had already been together forever.”

“I was kinda worried that I made you uncomfortable as soon as I said it,” he admitted. “But you really know how to surprise me sometimes.”

“Believe me, I’ll let you know if I’m uncomfortable,” Gamora laughed. “I’m never one to shy away from speaking my mind.” She patted him on the backside very suddenly, causing Peter’s eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. “Come on, now. Let’s get to work. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can go back inside, have breakfast, and watch one of those Christmas movies you keep telling me about.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Peter said cheerfully, stepping back to let her begin.

Two hours later, Yondu stumbled out of his bedroom, yawning, blearily rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, only to let out a startled cry at the sight of the two bodies curled up on the couch together. “Aw, hell, it’s too early for this!”

“It’s 10 AM, Yondu, you missed breakfast,” Gamora said without looking away from the television screen. “And you’ll have to cancel your date tonight, everything’s frozen over. I wouldn’t go out in that weather if I were you.”

Peter lifted his head from Gamora’s lap. “You had a date?”

“Why you sound so surprised, boy?” Offended, Yondu flicked the toothpick he was chewing on in Peter’s direction before ambling into the kitchen, digging around the pantry for some bread. “Just some cute SHIELD agent, that’s all. No biggie.”

“Is everyone tryna find dates for the Christmas party or something? Even Mantis said she might give it a shot with that girl she likes,” Peter asked, confused.

“We can’t all be as lucky as you two,” Rocket drawled, emerging from his own room, Groot in tow on his shoulder as always. “Some of us don’t get to spend every damn day hanging out with our girlfriends.” He sneered the last word like it was something dirty.

It was Yondu’s turn to be surprised, the butter knife hovering halfway in the air. “You sayin’ you had a girlfriend before, rat?”

Rocket’s face suddenly shut down, the usual smirk fading away in favor of anger. “Shut up.”

“It was just a question,” Yondu said defensively, though he bowed his head in apology. Peter glanced up at Gamora, exchanging curious looks with her before settling back down against her thighs, her fingers moving to massage his scalp.

“Hey, uh, Rocket, Gamora and I already defrosted the engine and did a performance check, so you don’t have to worry about that today,” Peter called, watching cautiously as he crossed the room to pull down one of the main holo-screens.

“That’s good. Thanks, Quill,” Rocket said tersely, keeping his back to them as he began navigating through the ship’s interface.

“Do you have plans this weekend, Rocket?” Gamora asked tentatively, her fingers beginning to slow to a near stop.

“Yeah, uh. I was gonna hang out with Groot. Maybe go over that vocabulary book you guys bought him.” The tension in his shoulders eased up a little as Groot snuggled a little into his cheek in gratitude. “Probably do it alone.”

“Are you sure you don’t want help? I mean, now that Gamora and I can understand him too, it’ll be less work for you,” Peter suggested.

Rocket slammed a paw very suddenly against the holo-screen, aggressively closing all the menus he had pulled up. “Y’know what, I don’t think I wanna hang around in here if everyone’s gonna be all talky-talky, alright? I’m gonna go work upstairs instead. No one follow me, I ain’t in the mood.” Groot let out a small whine of protest as Rocket set him down on the coffee table before storming off up the ladder.

“I shouldn’t’ve asked,” Yondu sighed as he settled down at the table with his breakfast. “Rat’s been real tetchy lately. Y’think it’s just the weather? Or something school-related, maybe?”

“It’s Rocket,” Gamora shrugged as if was the only answer they needed. “He’s got a temper, and asking him about it will only make it worse. Just leave him be for now. He’ll come to us if it’s really important.”

“Peter?” A very nervous-looking Mantis appeared at the end of the corridor, twiddling her thumbs. “May we talk in private? Please?”

“Yeah, of course.” Peter stood almost instantly, concerned, squeezing Gamora’s shoulder before moving to join Mantis in her room. She hastily shut the door behind them, a wild, almost terrified look in her eyes. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I am so scared,” Mantis whispered, taking shaky steps forward into Peter’s chest. His arms went up around her shoulders, pulling her in tight. “I do not know what to do.”

“Don’t know what to do about what?”

“What do...what do you do when you have romantic feelings for two people at the same time?”

Oh. Out of all the worst-case scenarios that had been racing through his mind in the last thirty seconds, he hadn’t expected that. Peter’s heart broke a little for his sister at the very thought. In many ways, he had been lucky with his relationship with Gamora. He had never experienced truly deep, romantic feelings for anyone before her, and although it had taken them a while to get to where they were now, neither of them ever wavered, never found themselves even considering the possibility of liking someone else at the same time. He wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t make Mantis feel worse. “I don’t know, Mantis, I...I never had that happen before. But you can talk it through with me if that...if it helps?”

He gently led her over to the bed, where they sat side-by-side, their socked feet pulled up onto the mattress. She was curled into herself now, arms wrapped protectively around her legs, her chin resting on her knee, staring unblinkingly at the door opposite them. She had never looked so childlike before, so completely and utterly lost, at least, not since they had first found her on Ego. “I know what you have all been thinking. About who it is. And you were incorrect. At least, at first.”

“You mean…” Peter swallowed.

“Yes,” Mantis murmured. “And I am worried that the rest of you have put that thought into my head, instead of it forming on its own. Does that make any sense?”

“You’re worried we’ve pressured you into thinking you have feelings for her,” he said carefully. “Mantis, I’m so sorry. We shouldn’t have pushed you so hard to talk about all this. It’s your feelings, not ours.”

“It has been very difficult for me,” she admitted. “I am not very good at understanding myself sometimes. But I want to. I want to know who I am, outside of being someone else’s person. Ego’s assistant, your sister, a member of the Guardians...who am I, Peter? And what is it that I want? What am I meant for?”

“I think those are questions only you get to answer,” he replied, reaching to squeeze her hand. “But if you need help figuring that out, I’m here for you, okay? And maybe it’ll help if you try talking to Gamora, too. She’s gotten pretty good at helping me with my emotional crises,” he added with a chuckle. “Knowing yourself before you get involved with someone else is usually a good idea. She’ll probably tell you the same thing.”

“You think so?” Mantis sniffled a little, wiping at her watery eyes.

“Gamora’s been through hell and back, we all know it. And I don’t think she would’ve even considered dating me if she couldn’t feel good about herself. And, y’know, maybe that doesn’t apply to everyone, because hell, no one’s sure of themselves all of the time. But if you’re super stressed out about it, then maybe you should start there. You can do it, Mantis. I believe in you.” He wrapped her in a big hug, kissing the top of her head.

She curled into him, laughing softly. “You have become so good at this, Peter. Advice-giving, I mean.” He was pleased to hear her voice already coming back stronger, warmer, like it always did.

“Comes with the job, I guess,” Peter shrugged. “Leader, brother, boyfriend. All of the above.”

“I’m sure Gamora would agree with me that you are doing an excellent job at all three,” Mantis grinned in return.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Gamora was tapping her foot idly as she waited, though she was keeping a steady eye on Groot. “I am Groot,” he pouted, burying himself deeper into the couch cushions as if he were attempting to disappear entirely. She immediately wrapped a hand around his middle and dragged him back out, frowning at him.

“I told you, no opening presents until the day of,” she said sternly. “Some people haven’t even gotten their gifts yet. Peter, for example.”

“I heard my name, did ya miss me?” Peter strolled back in with a cheesy smile on his face, arms open wide. Gamora glanced up at him, unimpressed.

“You’ve been gone for all of ten minutes, Peter. The silence was welcome,” she snarked, though she moved to lay her head on his chest the instant he sat back down. His broad shoulders made for a surprisingly comfortable pillow. “Groot’s complaining about not getting to open presents yet, despite the fact we have almost none ready, and we haven’t even gotten the tree yet. You were the one who insisted on us fulfilling holiday traditions this year.”

“I’ve been busy. Finals were awful,” Peter said defensively, wrapping his arms around her. “We’ve got time, and besides, the weather’s awful. No one’s getting a tree today. We’ll be lucky if we can even leave the ship tomorrow.”

Sighing, Gamora pulled up the blanket around them, releasing Groot so he could run up Peter’s torso and settle in on his other shoulder. “I suppose it’s better than last Christmas. I still don’t know how you ended up landing in jail, and then when we went to bail you out, we somehow got arrested, too.”

“I think that duchess liked me a little too much,” he said lazily, letting his head fall against the armrest.

“She had the most irritating voice I’ve ever heard in my life, and that’s saying something.” Gamora began picking at a piece of invisible lint on Peter’s sweater, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Is that jealousy I detect in your voice?” he teased.

She rolled her eyes, poking him in the stomach with a sharp fingernail. “You have some odd fascination with the idea that I’d be jealous of anyone romantically attracted to you. Besides, I wasn’t attracted to you at the time, so that doesn’t even count.”

“I am Groot,” Groot countered, his eyes wide as he watched them converse. It seemed to be one of his favorite pastimes.

“Exactly, thank you, Groot,” Peter said triumphantly. “So you’re saying there was a time.”

“Well.” Gamora turned her head entirely so her face was practically buried in the back of the couch. “It’s hardly a secret that I was suspicious of your relationship with Cindy. But that’s only because you were my ‘boyfriend’ already, and I was concerned about how it was going to look to others if you were interested in another girl, and why are we still discussing this? We should be talking about you not going holiday shopping yet, even though you were the one practically begging us to do this Secret Satan - ”

Peter let out a choked laugh. “It’s...it’s Santa, honey. Satan’s a different...uh...person.”

She frowned, her irritation growing. “Does it matter?”

“Trust me, you don’t wanna get those two mixed up.” He lifted a hand to run his fingers through her hair affectionately, his thumbs running soothing circles over her temples. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. I just find it kinda cute whenever you get your references crossed. It gives me like, the weirdest visuals. Santa with a pitchfork and a tail - ” He cut himself off with a snort. She continued to look irked. “I’m not making fun of you, I promise. Please don’t murder me.”

“You’re lucky I like you.” She pinched him in retaliation. “Well, I already did my shopping with Mantis and Drax. Groot made Rocket and Yondu take him last week, which they claim is the reason they did rather subpar on their exams - as always, I’ve chosen not to listen to them - so that leaves you and - ”

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me.” Peter turned over, groaning into the cushions. “Please don’t tell me I’m going Christmas shopping with Nebula. I take back my request, murder me now.” ______

Quill.” A curt nod, refusal of eye contact, arms folded across her chest. Yes, that was Nebula, alright.

It wasn’t that Peter didn’t like Nebula - in fact, he liked her just fine, more than ever thought he would when they had first met on Knowhere while she was on a rampage, hunting Gamora down and nearly killing them all in the process - but it was rather the fact that, well, he was still kind of terrified of her. Just the tiniest bit. And who could blame him? She had a tendency to lurk in the background, no matter where they were or what they were doing. She somehow managed to fade into her surroundings, silently observing, whether during team meetings or dinner. And then, very suddenly, she would have a snarky quip or a violent outburst, the latter of which would cause Peter to have what felt like a mild heart attack.

However, Peter knew Nebula was of the utmost importance to Gamora. Despite constantly butting heads, he knew when it came down to it, the two sisters loved each other fiercely, though they would never outright admit it. He wanted to understand Nebula better, not just for Gamora’s sake, but for the sake of the entire team. He knew her general personality, her behaviors, her quirks, so to speak, but still knew so little of what she would be like as a teammate.

“This doesn’t have to be weird,” Peter told her as they got into the car (a cozy little hatchback, courtesy of Stark as always). “Why would it be weird? It’s just you...and me...hanging out together. Like we’ve...we’ve never done before.”

“Are you going to insist on talking the whole way?” Nebula buckled her seatbelt and promptly kicked her snow-covered boots up onto the dashboard, spraying little shards of ice everywhere, including the console, the emergency brake, and Peter’s arm.

“I could put the radio on instead,” he offered.

“Are you incapable of complete and total silence?” Nebula asked. “Or is it just that you like the sound of your own voice?”

“Right, I can already tell this is going to be a freaking joyride,” he muttered under his breath.

A couple hours of awkward silence later, the two of them arrived at the nearest mall, which, as predicted, was crowded with panicked shoppers, screaming children and babies, and salespeople who looked all of five seconds away from bursting into tears. Peter had to circle the parking lot at least three times before he managed to snatch up a spot furthest from the entrance, resulting in him slipping several times as they walked towards the doors. Nebula rolled her eyes at every last occurrence.

“Well, aren’t you the picture of grace,” she sighed when they finally reached the doors, yanking them open and practically stomping in. Peter could only watch in bewilderment as she began shaking more snow off her boots, not unlike a small dog. However, when she moved as if to make a run for it, he jumped forward to catch her wrist.

“Hey, hey, I promised Gamora we’d stick together, so you aren’t going anywhere without me,” he said firmly.

“And you do everything my sister tells you to do?” Nebula snorted.

“I do when she’s right, which is at least ninety-nine percent of the time,” he admitted. “Come on, let’s grab a store map and figure out where we’re going.”

There was a pause, though it wasn’t the kind of pause Nebula took when she was contemplating the various methods she had to kill a man, but an unreadable pause that made Peter shiver a little. Finally, she said, “Fine, but I want to go to the food court first.”

“Uh...not that I’m saying no, but why?”

“Iwanuhprezl.” She immediately turned on her heel away from him, though this time, she didn’t take another step.

“I...I didn’t catch that, what’d you say?”

“I want a pretzel,” Nebula mumbled. Peter blinked. Out of all the things he’d been expecting, this might’ve been at the very bottom of his nonexistent list. Still, he was pretty sure if he tried poking at what she’d just said, it would only result in broken fingers.

“I...okay, yeah, I could go for a pretzel,” he shrugged. They walked in silence towards the food court, Peter with his hands stuffed in his pockets, and Nebula’s stiffly at her side, her fingers tapping impatiently on the small pocket knife stashed on her belt (the only weapon Peter had allowed her to take). Then he brightened. “Hey, what kind of pretzel do you usually get? Savory? Sweet? Do you get dip? As a kid, I always wanted cinnamon sugar with caramel but my mom told me my teeth would literally rot of my head, but that didn’t scare me because I was like, ‘sweet, I wanna be a zombie!’ because apparently, the only word I heard was ‘rot’, and uh, you don’t care, so never mind.”

Silence. Then, “I want a cheese pretzel dog. I didn’t have breakfast.”

“Solid choice,” Peter nodded. “I can respect that.”

Fifteen minutes later, the two of them were sitting at one of the bar tables in the food court, devouring their respective pretzels. Peter was secretly pleased to see Nebula was eating at what he considered to be the ‘normal’ pace now. Even six months ago, she often ate like her food was going to get pulled out from under her any second, having become used to literally fighting for scraps. Like Gamora, he never wanted to see Nebula lose her confidence or her strength, but he was happy to see her becoming more relaxed in her own way, now that she was realizing she no longer had to fight to live.

“So I’m guessing you’re not gonna tell me who you got for Secret Santa,” he said. “Can I at least guess?”

“No.” She took a particularly vicious bite. Peter wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting.

“Well, it’s gotta be a better Christmas than last year, considering you spent two weeks stuck with Yondu while we were in jail,” he continued, undeterred, chuckling a little at the memory.

“I retreated to my dorm the moment it stopped snowing,” Nebula said, rolling her eyes. “You really think I was going to spend more time with that idiot than necessary?”

“Hey, that’s not fair. Give Yondu some credit, at least he’s trying to be your friend,” Peter protested. “Do you really hate him that much?”

“Why are you asking me so many questions?” she shot back, slamming her food down onto the table. It made an unpleasant squelching noise beneath her fingers in the process. “Did Gamora ask you to spy on me?”

“No!” he exclaimed. “She just wants me to look after you, but it’s not like she wants me to report back or anything. I just wanna get to know you better, that’s all. We never talk.”

“For a reason.” She stuffed the pretzel back in her mouth, chewing loudly. “Out of all the Terrans that I’ve met, I can’t believe it’s you that my sister has gone soft for.”

“Do you...do you think I’m bad for her?” Had he ever actually asked Nebula what he thought of his relationship with her sister? The idea had honestly never crossed his mind. It was silly in hindsight that he’d never considered it, since Gamora put more weight into Nebula’s opinions than she wanted to admit. Surely, she would have voiced her disapproval by now.

“Why does it matter what I think?”

“Because you’re the most important person in the whole damn world to Gamora, that’s why,” he said fiercely, leaning forward. “And if you think she deserves better, I wanna know why. I wanna know how I can do better.”

Nebula was first to break eye contact, instead electing to stare at her feet. “Fine. I’ll tell you what I think of you if you agree to never ask me again, and never tell Gamora we had this conversation.” He nodded eagerly in response. “You’re loud, obnoxious, overly dramatic, too energetic, and you never stop pestering all of us about being ‘family’.” Pausing, she lifted her head, narrowing her pitch-black eyes as if to examine him. “But...I suppose Gamora and I have never had someone so invested in our well-being in a very long time, or at least one who never expects anything in return. You make a decent leader when you actually try, though your speeches are horrendous. And I...trust you enough to eventually help us in our quest to kill Thanos, though I doubt you’ll survive the attempt.”

“Still thinking about that, huh?” he chuckled to himself, ignoring the passive-aggressive comments that were quintessential to really anything Nebula ever said. It seemed like eons ago since they first began seriously discussing going after Thanos, ending his terrifying reign once and for all, but he hadn’t made any moves in the last little while, giving the Guardians hope that they would have more time to prepare. Still, Peter knew Nebula was more anxious about it than anyone, even her sister. Her desperation for Thanos’s approval had been flipped on its side, now channeled into her hatred for what he had done to her and Gamora.

“You help her forget, even for just a little while, the unspeakable horrors we’ve been through, the horrid acts of pain and slaughter we’ve carried out in the name of a man who has done nothing but hurt us.” There was a twitch at the corner of her mouth that suggested she was attempting a proper smile. “You seem committed to making my sister believe in her self-worth, value her own happiness. So...I guess I can’t really fault you for that. Even if I don't care for either of those things myself.”

“I...wow.” Peter found himself struggling to choose his next words. For once, it wasn’t out of fear of what her reaction (or more accurately, her retaliation) would be, but of complete and utter shock. “Nebula, that’s...I don’t know what to say.”

“So you’re saying I’ve successfully shut you up? Good,” she smirked, though not out of malice. In a way, he felt as if they had reached an understanding of sorts, or at the very least, something of a truce. “Though like I said...if you tell Gamora any of what transpired just now, I will kill you.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before,” he laughed, bunching up his paper wrapper. “You ready to go?”

Shopping didn’t go quite as smoothly as Peter had anticipated, considering their conversation had ended on such a high note. Nebula was evasive when Peter tried to figure out where she wanted to go to get her Secret Santa gift, and the frequency of her eye-rolling increased tenfold once he requested they pick out more Christmas decorations for the ship.

“Don’t blame me, we were all too busy to go shopping during exams,” Peter said defensively. “Just help me pick out the damn Christmas lights. Should we get multi-colored? White? Red and green? These weird purple-y ones? I dunno what’s up with those.”

“Considering the ship is obnoxiously colorful, get white for general use and multicolor for the tree.” He stared at her in disbelief. She suddenly seemed to have realized she had put too much thought into her answer. “It’s obvious, you idiot.” That was more like it.

“Mistletoe’s unnecessary since no one’s kissing anyone but me and Gamora,” Peter said as they continued on. “Plus, she’d probably hate the idea of forced PDA.”

“She’s extraordinarily tactile when it comes to you, Quill, I wouldn’t worry about it.” Nebula’s ability to tap her foot impatiently as fast as she was going was starting to give Peter a headache.

“Wasn’t aware I asked for the peanut gallery,” he snarked in return. The confused expression he got in return was worth it.

When they went into the toy store to look for presents for Groot - he was beginning to develop a sizeable collection of plushies as large as he was - Peter found himself swarmed by children who recognized him, asking him to sign bits of paper or their Star-Lord dolls. Beaming, he complied instantly, trying his best to reach everyone in the crowd of approximately thirty people.

“What do you do at that big superhero school of yours?” one brave little one asked him, her eyes so huge that it reminded him of Mantis.

“Well, we just finished exams,” Peter said. At the kids’ disappointed faces, he hastily added, “But we had to fight this woman who came from Asgard last month - y’know, that place where Thor is from? - and it turns out she was the goddess of death!”

“Ooh,” said about seven different tiny voices in near-perfect synchronicity.

“How did ya beat her?” one skeptical boy asked.

“There was this other woman who came to help defeat the goddess of death - her name is Valkyrie, you might’ve seen her on the news. Super cool, white marks on her face, big blue cape? And she got lots of the other girls on campus to help her with all of their weapons, and powers, and skills, to send the goddess of death back to where she came from,” Peter explained. “Oh, Nebula for example. She was one of them.” He gestured towards her.

“Are you a hero too, miss?” One of the littlest girls took a step closer towards Nebula. She looked no older than four. Peter shot her a pleading look over the girl’s head. He knew by now that Gamora had grown comfortable with dealing with admiring children, while Nebula still snarled at Groot when she was feeling particularly tempestuous.

“It varies from day to day,” she drawled, folding her arms across her chest. That seemed to satisfy the girl well enough, as she stepped back to join the rest of the crowd once more.

“Tell us more about the Val’krie!” one girl begged.

Peter chuckled. “Sure. Well, I haven’t really hung out with her or anything, but she’s friends with my girlfriend, Gamora - you guys know who she is, right? - and oh, man, watching them train together is super awesome…”

“How could you possibly stand being around those little creatures?” Nebula shuddered. It had been fifteen minutes since they had left the toy store, now armed with bags of free merchandise, courtesy of the manager. “Unpredictable, noisy, obnoxious, asking too many questions...you know what? Never mind. You must be entirely at kin.”

“Har-har,” Peter said sarcastically. “Kids are great when they're not tryna cause trouble. They’re just curious, that's all. You were never like that?”

“You’re asking me to remember a period of my life that has been long removed from memory,” she said darkly. Whether she had simply chosen to forget it, or Thanos had actually physically done something to her memory, Peter wasn’t sure, and he didn’t think it would be right to ask. “Are you telling me Gamora still has memories of childhood?”

“She never talked about it much. She says she remembers bits and pieces about her parents, but she sometimes forgets them entirely,” Peter admitted. “Is it like that for you?”

“As always, you ask too many questions,” Nebula sighed, though she didn’t continue on with another threat. Peter considered that to be a sign of progress. “Oh, there’s that store with too many shirts and toys.”

“Yeah, Hot Topic. Maybe I’ll buy something for Gamora, she loves getting her gloves there,” he replied, grinning easily.

They returned to the school campus a mere hour before dinnertime, loaded with a surprising amount of shopping bags. Nebula was in unusually good spirits after they had come across a stall selling toy weapons. She had insisted upon buying one for both Gamora and Rocket, wanting to plant them among their existing inventory and see how long it would take for them to notice. Peter was just surprised she even understood the concept of a prank in the first place.

“You’re not terrible, Quill,” Nebula said as they pulled up to the entrance gates. “Though I’m definitely not a fan.”

“Fair enough,” Peter replied as he passed their ID cards to the security guard. “You aren’t my favorite either. But we’re cool now, right? Like, less death threats and stuff?”

She side-eyed him before snorting, shaking her head. “Sure, Quill. ‘Less death threats and stuff’. But only because I don’t want to put up with Gamora’s incessant whining if I were to harm a single hair on your head.”

Upon boarding the ship, they were immediately greeted by Gamora, who was sitting by the entrance, twisting the multitude of silver rings that adorned her fingers rather anxiously. “No injuries, I see,” she said dryly as she moved to help them with their bags.

“We’re practically best friends now,” Peter said cheerfully as he began unloading his haul onto the coffee table. “Sorry, Gamora, you’ve been demoted.”

“I’ll get over it,” she shrugged, turning towards her sister. “Nebula?”

“He’s not a total loser,” Nebula replied, unceremoniously dropping all of her bags onto the floor. There was a crunching noise that made both Peter and Gamora wince. “I suppose you could have picked a worse Terran to fall in love with.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard you say about Peter,” Gamora said, smirking as she stepped closer to him, patting him placatingly on the arm. “Don’t you agree?”

“Sure,” Peter said, catching Nebula’s wary gaze. She was practically pleading him to stay silent. “I don’t really pay attention when she’s talking, to be super honest with you.”

Rolling her eyes, Gamora swatted him with a dish towel before pulling him over to the kitchen so they could set the dining table together. Nebula flopped onto the couch, kicking her feet up onto the armrest, smiling a little to herself. Yes, she supposed her sister could have done a lot worse in choosing a companion. But he turned out to be a half-decent leader after all. Friendship, however? That was still an entirely different story. Nebula didn’t want friends, never wanted friends, but...in a strange way, maybe he had become one without her realizing it. Dammit. ______

“Gamora? Are you busy at the moment?” Gamora startled a little from where she was curled up on the couch, looking up from her book. Drax was looming over her, and if she were anyone else, she might have been a little wary about his otherwise serious expression, but if anything, she was just a little annoyed.

“Do you need something?” she asked with a raised brow, sliding her thumb across the page to hold it in place.

“Quill requested that Mantis and I make cookies for the team, but seeing as Mantis has fallen ill…” He trailed off uncertainly.

“You want me to be her substitute.” Gamora nodded in understanding, closing her book and getting to her feet. “Sure, why not?”

Drax gave her a grateful smile before they walked into the kitchen. They worked in silence for a few minutes, gathering up utensils and ingredients in accordance with the recipe Peter had provided them. Unlike the way Drax and Mantis cooked, using Terran recipes they had found in books or online, Peter’s recipe was written down by hand on a notecard. Gamora remembered when he had told her about the way his mother had indexed and revised her recipes, a habit he had since picked up himself. She smiled fondly at the messy scribbles on the card, the way Peter had written “approximately” at least half a dozen times in various spots, unsure of whether he had remembered it exactly right.

“How have you been, Gamora?”

She turned away from the stick of butter she was slicing up to look over her shoulder at Drax. “Fine, I suppose. My exams went well, I did all of my shopping, got all of the team paperwork completed for the year, and - ”

He chuckled, though not unkindly. “I meant your general well-being, not your to-do list. You are usually quite stressed this time of year.”

“Well, I'll tell you a secret, Drax,” Gamora hummed, turning back to the task at hand. “I’m always stressed.” He let out a jovial laugh, a full-bellied chuckle that betrayed his otherwise imposing presence. He passed her the mixing bowl so she could add the butter. “I have relaxed a fair bit since this time last year, though. Probably because of my increasing closeness to the rest of you.”

“It is a delight to see,” Drax nodded. “Your happiness is integral to all of us, Gamora. It would be a shame if you were worn out.” He moved back to the other side of the kitchen to begin working on the dry ingredients. “Quill told me you’re starting your fight classes next month. Are you not concerned about your impending workload?”

“I can handle it.” She smiled a little to herself as she began stirring. “Besides, it’s not like I’m alone in all this. Peter shares my Guardian work, and Nebula and I have an equal hand in fight training. As I’ve said, if there’s anything I’ve learned these past couple of years, being with this team, it’s that we should let other people be part of our lives. There’s value in teamwork.”

“I imagine with the difficult life you led beforehand, it must be a relief to be here.” Drax pulled up a stool and sat down, facing her. It was a little comical, considering the stool was built for an average-sized person while he dwarfed it by a long shot, but he looked quite pensive otherwise.

Drax was certainly a curious one to Gamora, perhaps the sole person of the group that she empathized with the most, and yet understood the least. His single-minded determination to kill her when they had first met told her he was a brute and a bully, someone who couldn’t see the forest for the trees. He spoke with a diverse vocabulary, yet understood little of the semantics of language and socialization, perhaps even less than she and Nebula. Later, she came to understand it was the nature of his people, and she felt shameful to have judged him at all. Now, she had a better sense of his true self - kind, loving, fiercely loyal and protective of those he cared about, and she was glad to be considered one of his loved ones.

She was also grateful that he had never described to her, in detail, the deaths of his family. He had told her the general gist of what had happened, but a part of her always wondered if he still somewhat resented her for it, despite her having no hand in the actual crime.

“Do you still think of her?” Gamora asked quietly.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well…” She hesitated before settling down on a stool herself, opposite him. “A little while ago, Rocket seemed to imply he used to have someone - a significant other, that is. And he said that some people couldn’t be as lucky as Peter and I. It got me thinking, if our relationship made you uncomfortable, or made you feel sad…”

“I do think of Hovat.” Drax folded his hands neatly in his lap. “Perhaps not as often as you might imagine, but every now and then, I have a quiet moment to myself, and I think fondly of her. I think of how we met, the time we spent together. How, had I not invited her over to my family’s home that night, she would not have been killed alongside them. We did not live together yet, but it felt inevitable that we would someday. Now…” He trailed off.

“I wish it could’ve been different for you. You’ll get your vengeance someday, I promise.”

He shook his head, smiling weakly. “No, Gamora. I have no need for revenge any longer. Besides, I believe you and Nebula deserve the chance to kill Thanos just as much as I do, if not much more. Despite having heard very little stories and seen no physical scars, I can only imagine that the pain he inflicted upon both of you is worth his death many times over.”

“We’ll get that bastard someday.” They both turned to see Peter standing in the doorway, wearing a ratty old band T-shirt, yawning and scratching at his belly. “You guys baking in here? Smells good.”

“As per your request,” Drax said, getting to his feet. “Another Terran tradition of yours, yes?”

“Usually, yeah.” Peter kissed Gamora chastely on the forehead before moving to grab the water pitcher from the fridge. “Better tradition than telling your kids about the night you made them.”

“You have such odd hang-ups about intimacy, Quill,” Drax chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

“Uh, would you like it if I told you, in detail, about every single time Gamora and I have sex?” Peter brandished the jug at Drax and ended up splashing water on himself instead.

“I know I wouldn’t,” Gamora said loudly, prodding him in the gut with her foot. “Don’t encourage him, Peter. Next thing you know, he’ll request to be present.” Peter shuddered at the very thought, shuffling several feet away from Drax in response.

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Peter said hastily, grabbing the cough syrup from the coffee table. “Just dropping by to get some stuff for Mantis.” He gave them an awkward wave before slowly backing away down the corridor. Gamora couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his antics.

“Such a strange one, that Quill,” Drax commented once Peter was out of sight. “But I must admit, he has become more and more valuable these days. I could not imagine the team without him.”

“His effort is quite admirable,” Gamora replied with a gentle smile.  They began pulling out the old, rusted cookie sheets, scooping up the dough and divvying out what they hoped to be evenly-sized dough balls. “It’s what all of us should be trying to do, don’t you agree? To be better versions of ourselves?”

“A good way of thinking about it,” Drax nodded. “You have always been the wisest of us all, Gamora. It is one of the many things I admire about you. Though honestly, it was also what made me curious about what you saw in Quill, romantically. His intelligence and maturity seemed lacking in comparison to yours. But I see now that you two hold the utmost respect for each other, understanding and devotion. I liken it to my relationship with Hovat.”

“I can tell by the way you talk about her that she meant everything to you.” Gamora leaned back onto the counter, watching Drax contemplatively as he slid the cookie sheets into the oven, wincing a little at the screeching noise it made. “Do you think you’ll ever seek another romantic relationship again?”

“Part of me worries it will be seen as disrespectful to what I had with Hovat,” Drax said, straightening back up. He looked anguished at the very thought of upsetting her. “In my culture, we believe that the spirit lives on. And perhaps her spirit will curse me for wanting to be with another.” He smiled in remembrance. “But she was not a vengeful person, my Hovat. I believe she would want me to be happy. However, I have yet to meet a person who I wish to share my affections with. Like with Hovat, I think I will see them and just…know. Which is why I choose not to go on those dating websites or ‘apps’ that Quill has told me about.”

“Smart move,” Gamora said dryly. “Well, there’s no rush. You have time.”

“Yes, I do.” Drax grinned a little wider, serene. “There are still many things I hope to do someday. I have already been in love once. I still love her, of course. But falling in love again, it simply isn’t a priority compared to what else life has to offer me. Taking on Thanos at last, for example. Not out of vengeance, but a desire to, well, guard the galaxy. Prevent others from suffering the same fate as my family, as yours. An honorable lifetime endeavor, I would say.”

“And a hefty title and reputation to hold, at that,” Gamora added, holding up her glass of water. Drax let out a merry laugh and clinked his cup against hers, drinking deeply as if it were the finest of wines. ______

Mantis emerged from her bedroom, practically dragging her feet, inhaling loudly. She winced a little at the whistling noise her nose made as she did. She was almost over her flu – she had never fallen ill via Terran sickness before, and it was decidedly unpleasant compared to some alien ailments she had experienced while living with Ego.

She stumbled her way up the ladder to the cockpit, curious about the echoing sound of clanking and clattering. She expected to see Peter there, digging around for some lost trinket or gadget as he often did, blaming his misplaced items on the others as always. To her surprise, she found Rocket instead, who was frantically emptying out a large, worn-out cardboard box, muttering to himself under his breath like a crazed person.

“Rocket? Is everything okay?”

“Quill ain’t here, bug-girl,” Rocket snapped without looking up. “So you can piss off.”

“Do not talk to me like that,” Mantis frowned, getting closer so she could kneel beside him. She was hardly ever deterred by Rocket’s behavior at this point, having gotten too used to his mood swings. “Maybe I can help.”

“Do you know how any of this stuff works?” Rocket gestured at the pile of what looked to be circuit boards and data chips, some of which looked incredibly broken and brittle. “If you don’t, I can repeat what I said earlier.”

“I only want to help,” Mantis repeated. “Tell me what you are looking for and let me try and find it.”

Sighing, Rocket threw down the flash drive he was holding and slumped back onto his hind legs. There was a sense of defeat in him that Mantis rarely ever detected, a resignation in his eyes so unusual it disturbed her. Of all the Guardians, she avoided Rocket the most, only ever interfering with his emotions if another was at risk. Otherwise, she knew he was secretly afraid of her, of what she could do. It still hurt her feelings a little bit, him thinking she would ever manipulate or betray his trust like that, but she understood where he was coming from. Sometimes, she was a bit scared of what she was capable of, too.

“My display’s been all outta whack lately,” he said, picking up the wrist computer he often toted around. “Something inside must’ve literally cracked. But I can’t find a match for the broken piece.” He turned it over to show her the open hatch, where she did indeed see a section with a corner broken off, the minuscule lights stuttering and flashing as if in warning.

“That seems to be quite old,” she said thoughtfully, carefully taking it from him. “Have you considered building a new one? You must be quite the expert in doing so.”

“No!” Rocket exclaimed, yanking it back. “I have to…I have to fix this one. I have to.”

“Okay. Okay.” Mantis held up her hands defensively. “Okay, then let us look. Are there more boxes of these things anywhere else? Have you asked Peter, maybe? This ship has many nooks and crannies we have never been to.”

“I already asked, and this is all we got, so.” Once again, the tightness in his shoulders melted away as he leaned against the box in hopelessness, the tips of his ears drooping. “Oh, this ain’t happening. I’m not gonna be able to do this.” The wrist computer let off an alarming series of sparks as if to agree with him.

“I’m sorry, Rocket.” She worried at her bottom lip, unsure of what to do. She wasn’t sure why this was so important to him, especially right at this very second, but she was determined to stop him from giving up. At least one thing was for certain – she needed to calm him down, not with her powers, but with her words. “Should I go get Peter? He would be more knowledgeable about what to do – ”

“No, no, we ain’t telling Quill about this.” He yanked the device off his arm and threw it so hard that the glass display cracked on impact. “Shit.”

Rocket made no move to pick it up, staring at it with wide eyes, frozen. Mantis crawled forwards to grab it and bring it back, turning it over gently in her hands. “It’s okay. It is only a small crack. The glass will be easy to replace.”

Suddenly snapping out of it, Rocket glared at her like she had been the one to throw it in the first place. “You really don’t get it, do you?” he snarled. “What, you not tryna read my mind or whatever the hell it is you do – ”

“And I have said many times before, I read emotions, not minds,” she said patiently, settling in across from him. “So if you are frustrated because I do not understand you, then make me understand.”

“No.” He shook his head almost violently. “No, no one knows, ‘cept Groot. And I aim to keep it that way.”

“I find another perspective is always helpful,” she offered. When he remained silent, eyes narrowed as if he were contemplating whether to snap the antennae off her forehead, she simply smiled in return. “When I was living on Ego’s planet, all I ever knew, for the longest time, was him. I knew what he thought of the world, what he wanted from the world. And I went along with him because I thought he was clever, I thought he was kind. But that was because I did not know what other beings were like. Then, his children began to appear to us. Children of many different races and backgrounds. Some I knew for weeks. Some for just a few hours, before they would disappoint him. And then they would be gone, just like that. Still, I began to empathize more with the children than with him. I saw different ideas of what it meant to be united, to be a collective group of people, instead of Ego’s idea of The Expansion. To live in harmony. But I did not believe that I would ever be able to leave Ego behind, as I was too used to being with him. I was becoming too reliant. It was not until you all arrived that I began to understand my true purpose. What I was meant to be doing, how I could help.”

Rocket broke eye contact first, casting his gaze down on the floor, arms still folded defensively across his chest. “Yeah, yeah, another perspective. You should really be in charge of that motivational speech crap that Quill’s a big fan of, y’know? At least you don’t ramble on about some TV show no one’s ever seen.” She fixed him with another patient smile before he exhaled slowly, relenting. “You really wanna know?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “I do.”

Another long, shaky exhale. “This…this thing. It didn’t belong to me originally. It belonged to 89P14. Her name was Lylla.” He sniffled so quietly Mantis almost thought she’d imagined it, if not for the wetness on his nose. “We were both…monsters. Created in a lab. Except she wasn’t a monster at all. She was…sweet. Optimistic. Upbeat. A real good soul, y’know? Never gave up hope on thinkin’ we’d be able to escape the lab one day. We lived in cages right next to each other. And when we weren’t being experimented on, we talked. We could talk for hours. And the stupid thing is, it’s not like we had tons to talk about. Neither of us knew any sorta life outside of those cages. But we liked to imagine the kind of adventures we’d get to go on once we got out. It distracted us from the pain we were in.”

“What happened?” Mantis prompted, though she had a sinking feeling she knew what was coming next.

“What else? We got brave…and stupid. Or in Lylla’s case, hopeful. She always had so much hope.” He chuckled weakly. “We tried to escape. Devised a whole plan. It was s’posed to be airtight. But I guess one of the others must’ve heard us, wanted to get us in trouble so we’d get put through the ringer and they’d be left alone. The thing is, the assholes working in the labs, they can’t survive the outside air on Halfworld, so Lylla and I punctured all of their bio-suits ahead of time. But they didn’t know that, so they chased me and her all up and down the complex, aiming to stun, not kill. We were too valuable for that. But then we got to the final gate that would lead to our freedom, and it was stuck. Some stupid freakin’ fingerprint-protected thing, y’know? And Lylla, she was the only one who knew tech better than I did, so she insisted I run ahead and she’d get it open. Like a dumbass, I did what she told me to. I always did. So the gates open, I’m runnin’, and I turn around and she’s just standing there. All the scientists, they start panicking ‘cause the air’s comin’ in. So they just snatch her up and run back for cover. Gate closes. And that’s the last I ever saw of her.”

“Rocket…” Mantis’s eyes watered. She wanted to reach over and comfort him somehow, but the last time she had tried to pet him, it hadn’t gone so smoothly. Her fingers trembled with desperation. “I don’t know what to say. I am so sorry.”

“Par for the course, right?” He tilted his head upwards, staring off into nothing, his dark eyes glossy with tears. “When those assholes were workin’ on me, I was always in pain. Still am sometimes. But never...never here.” He weakly tapped his own chest with a shaking claw. “Not until that day.”

“Tell me.” Rocket turned to look at her in confusion. “Tell me if it ever gets so bad that it physically hurts. My powers are only a temporary solution, but at least it will provide you some relief. It will not make you forget her, or what she meant to you. I promise. Do not hesitate to ask me, Rocket.”

“You gotta let me have some of my pride left intact,” he chuckled half-heartedly. “And it’s stupid – this whole d’ast thing is stupid – but even though it’s just a dumb Terran holiday, Quill going on and on about how this time of year is for family and loved ones just reminds me even more that she’s gone.”

“I know we are no substitute for how you felt about her, but do not ever doubt that we care about you,” Mantis said, smiling warmly. “And…maybe this is a stupid question, but how do you know that Lylla actually died in the lab that day?”

“What…what do ya mean?” There was an almost startling spark of wistfulness in Rocket’s eyes. Mantis found herself worrying that she was already getting his hopes too high.

“Well…say that the contaminated air from the outside got into the lab. All the scientists die. Lylla and the others survive,” she said slowly.

“No, that’s…that’s impossible. They would’ve come outta the lab, I would’ve seen ‘em.”

“Maybe. Or maybe the scientists died a slow death, and the others had to wait. Or maybe they spent some time gathering supplies from the lab, or seeking vengeance upon the people and the place that destroyed them.” Mantis shrugged. “I am just saying, there are many possible outcomes here.”

“So you’re saying…if I had just waited…just a little bit longer…I might’ve seen her again?” His ears drooped once more, shaking his head slowly. “I was just so caught up in the idea of her death that I just ran off when I could've waited.”

“It is only one scenario, Rocket. Do not beat yourself up for what you did or what you could have done,” Mantis said reassuringly. “I am just saying…have some faith. And that includes having faith in this computer of yours. Surely we must be able to find a replacement. If not on this ship, then elsewhere. You do not have to tell the others your reasons in detail. Just tell Peter that it is important to you, and I’m sure he will help.”

“…I could return to Halfworld.” He turned the wrist computer over and over again, as if it possessed some magic qualities that would tell him what to do next. “They’d probably have the parts I need.”

“There you go,” Mantis beamed. “All hope is not lost. It might be too cold to take the Milano out at the moment, but when it gets warmer again, we can go to Halfworld and help in your search.”

“Y’know what? You ain’t so bad, bug-girl,” Rocket said. He reached over to place a paw on her forearm, usually the kind of move that she had to make to placate him. “Maybe it’s all that holiday spirit voodoo crap that Quill’s been talking about, but I’m feelin’ generous, so. Thanks. For…this.”

“I am your friend, whether you admit it or not,” she teased. “I am just glad I can be here for you. I always feel so much anger…resentment…from you. Sometimes even more so than Nebula. I much prefer it when you are happy.”

He grinned toothily, baring his fangs in a way that made Mantis involuntarily flinch a little. “So do I, kid. So do I.” ______

“Well, it’s about d’ast time,” Rocket said triumphantly, watching as Drax hefted the tree a little higher on his shoulder, strolling up the loading ramp of the Milano as if it weighed no more than his backpack. “I was startin’ to think Quill was playing a joke on us, tellin’ us that humies put presents around a tree in their living room. Thought you were tryna mess with Groot or something.”

“I’m not that big of a dick, thank you very much,” Peter grumbled. He was walking closely behind Drax, holding the accompanying stand and tree skirt. “Honey, you got the decorations?”

“I can already tell you went overboard,” Gamora retorted with a resigned sigh as she emerged from the storage closet. She was carrying a large cardboard box that was bursting at the seams, weighed down with Christmas lights, ornaments, and the like, all things Peter had been slowly accumulating over the last month in anticipation of finally celebrating the holiday season on Earth. “I gave you a budget for a reason, Peter.”

“Trust me, you won’t regret it once you see it in action!" He and Drax began setting the tree down in the corner of their already-cramped living area, carefully adjusting the skirt and fanning it outwards to make it look somewhat presentable. The others watched, somewhat unimpressed.

“It’s going to shed everywhere,” Mantis said uncertainly. “Is this really what Terrans do, Peter?”

“You guys won’t doubt me once we get these going,” Peter replied, walking over to Gamora and patting the top of the decoration box. “Come on, everyone jump in!”

“I hope you do not mean literally,” Drax said, apprehensively eyeing the size of the box. The look in his eyes told the others he was mentally calculating how many of them could fit inside.

“I never do, dude. I never do.”

They worked in hesitant silence for the first couple of minutes, an admittedly welcome sound considering the usual chaotic atmosphere of the ship. Nebula was the only one not participating, electing to instead sprawl across the armchair, watching as the others strung up lights, hung up ornaments, and wound some tinsel around the tree. Groot was standing on the very tip of Yondu’s fin in order to place the glittering star on top.

“What are these for?” Mantis asked, pulling out yet another plastic package from the box, the very last of the decorations. Each bag contained oval chalkboard ornaments with a small hole puncture, strung with peppermint-striped ribbon.

“We can personalize those,” Peter suggested. “I was thinking we could write our names, or maybe Christmas-y sayings, or stuff that we loved about this year. There’s fifty of ‘em in there.”

They all shot him dubious looks, unsure of whether they even had enough ideas to fill all fifty chalkboard ornaments. Peter faltered a little at the sight of everyone’s expressions, wondering if once again, he had overdone it in his enthusiasm. But then Gamora stepped forwards first, opening up the plastic package with her teeth and taking out a stack for herself, along with an accompanying piece of white chalk. She settled down on the floor next to Nebula’s feet, bringing her knees up close to her chest, and began carefully sketching out her name in neat script.

Yondu laughed very suddenly, startling Groot, who was still perched on his head. “Oh, hell, why not?” He proceeded to do the same as Gamora, grabbing extra for Groot before setting him back down on the coffee table.

Gradually, the others began queuing up for materials, Peter being the last one, an internal sense of relief settling into his bones. He sat next to Gamora, trying to ignore the sway of Nebula’s feet next to his head (he was pretty sure she was doing it on purpose). “Thanks, Gamora,” he said softly.

“I’ve got your back,” she smiled in return. “Besides, it’s not like I have anything better to do.” He nudged her shoulder with his playfully, laughing quietly. “What did you love about this year, Peter?”

“Classes were more interesting,” he began slowly, tilting his head in deep thought. His fingers began drumming out a beat on his knees. Gamora was surprised to find she could identify the song quite easily, though considering how much time she spent in his company nowadays, maybe it wasn’t so surprising after all. “I really liked learning, actually. I don’t usually like school, but this place is pretty awesome. Oh, and we had way more successful missions, since we actually know what we’re doing.”

“Other than the one where we were stranded on an abandoned planet and thought everyone else was dead,” she added, waving her chalk at him. “I can’t say that was entirely pleasant.”

“Figured that went without saying,” he chuckled. “I feel like I also made more friends this year, since there were so many new students that joined up. And I’m definitely closer to all the Guardians than before, which is always a bonus. I think even Nebula’s beginning to like me.” The swift, but gentle kick to the back of his head told him otherwise. “Ow, okay, I take it back. But it feels like a real family now. Kicking included.”

“Strangest one I’ve ever seen, but I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Gamora confessed. She began sketching out a tiny version of her sword on her ornament, her tongue slightly poking out in concentration, eyebrows knitted together. His heart melted a little at the sight.

“And of course, you.” Peter slung an arm over her shoulders, turning to kiss her forehead. “Don’t think I need to tell you how you’re kind of one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. I wouldn’t be nearly as happy or successful as a leader if you weren’t right here by my side.”

“We started off in a rough place back then, but I have no regrets about the outcome.” She slid her socked foot neatly between his, tapping him with her toes. “Being co-leaders, best friends, romantic partners…I honestly thought it would be too much. That it would mean we had too many responsibilities to each other, too much emotional investment, too much to ask of each other, but…I think we’ve found even footing. Both a separation and a merging of our roles, so to speak.”

“How romantic of you,” he teased. “You sound like we’re going into business together.”

She prodded him in the cheek with her chalk in retaliation, leaving a white streak in his stubble that was rather comical-looking. “Do you want me to gush over your virtues, Quill?” He shivered a little at the use of his last name – she never called him that anymore despite originally using it exclusively, and he had to admit, it sort of did something for him. “Lavish you with affection, boost your ego?”

“It’s all I ever ask for,” he said sarcastically, wiping at his face.

“You know how much I care about you, Peter.” She softened, her dark eyes warm with affection. “Please don’t make me say it when everyone else is in the room.” She was beginning to grow flushed with every word she spoke.

He dipped his head to bury his face into her jawline, pleased when she began to laugh at the sensation, her fingers digging into his side. “I can’t believe you’re embarrassed at how much you love me,” he sing-songed triumphantly. “Aw, Gamora. I love you too.”

“Have I mentioned you two are insufferable?” They both looked up to see Nebula leaning over them. Now she was the one brandishing chalk in their faces. They had to duck in order to avoid getting the spray of chalk dust in their eyes.

“This would only be the thousandth time,” Gamora retorted. She pulled Peter a little closer into the crook of her neck out of petulance. “If you don’t like it, sit somewhere else.”

“I was here first!” Nebula exclaimed incredulously. Peter couldn’t help but notice a childlike squeak on the last word, but decided against saying anything. He wasn’t looking to be blinded via chalk dust, not today.

“She has a point,” he shrugged. “There’s more room on the couch. Let’s cuddle obnoxiously until Yondu makes gagging noises. Again.”

“You know I will,” Yondu called from the kitchen, where he was leaning against the counter island. “You’re lucky I like you both, or I woulda skipped out on this nonsense a long time ago!”

“I am not embarrassed,” Gamora mumbled as she dragged him over to the couch. ______

Yondu wasn’t being facetious when he said he liked Peter and Gamora, that he thought they were a good match. He knew the others had had their doubts back in the days of trying to set them up, but he never wavered, not when it came to Peter’s love life. After all, he’d grown up alongside him, watched him blossom from a scrappy little kid to a (relatively) responsible young man. Gamora made Peter incredibly happy, had become his other half in many ways so quickly, that Yondu was honestly surprised anyone ever questioned the legitimacy or compatibility of their relationship.

That being said, he wasn’t a fan of constantly seeing their...intimacy.

And okay, he was lucky enough to have never caught them in the act before. He had accidentally witnessed plenty on the Eclector when Peter was a bit of a flirt, enough times that Yondu was a little too familiar with what he looked like, sans clothes. But in a way, it was almost worse seeing them cuddle.

“Not again,” Yondu groaned as he turned around from his spot by the fridge. “Were you even here five seconds ago, girl?”

On the battlefield, Gamora was fierce, relentless, unwavering. She stared down death as if it were just another face in the crowd. Seeing her wearing an oversized Christmas sweater (likely one of Peter’s), tucked into his side in the armchair despite it only having room for one, with a book in hand, kind of challenged that image for Yondu.

“Grow up, Yondu,” she retorted without looking up. “You would think you’d all be used to this by now, but you still insist on acting like a child whenever Peter and I are remotely close to each other.”

“I am Groot?”

“I didn’t mean that as an insult to children, Groot, I apologize.” Gamora leaned over to pet Groot in consolation, where he was stood on the coffee table, pouting.

“You’d think for a guy who schemed about getting us together, he’d be a little happier about it,” Peter smirked, giving Gamora a particularly sloppy kiss on the cheek. She wrinkled her nose and swatted at him, wiping away the saliva he’d left on her face.

“I am happy for ya,” Yondu insisted. “I just thought you’d be the more private type, G’mora.”

“I choose to no longer fear intimacy,” she said patiently, setting her book on the armrest. “I feel most comfortable with myself around all of you, so I make the effort to be more affectionate when it’s just us, especially since Peter is a very tactile person. It’s not like I’m constantly hanging off of him in public. And it’s not my problem that you also happen to be here.” Peter snickered into her shoulder.

“Ri-i-ight,” Yondu drawled. “Sure, that’s what it is. Well, I gotta go make my call to Kraglin, make sure he’s doin’ okay. Anyone wanna join me?”

Groot perked right up, waving his arms in the air enthusiastically. “I am Groot!” he chirruped.

“Sure, twig, I’m sure Krag’ll be happy to hear from ya.” Yondu scooped him up and set him on his shoulder. Groot hummed happily in response, his little fingers holding steadfast to Yondu’s ear. “I’ll leave you two alone like you want. Don’t go defiling the furniture, now.”

“How do ya know we haven’t already?” Peter called after Yondu’s retreating back.

Yondu didn’t give him the satisfaction of any sort of visceral reaction. After all, he could hear a grunt that told him Gamora had elbowed Peter in the gut for his insinuation. Instead, he turned to Groot and said, “You’ve got some weird parents, twig.” Groot shrugged nonchalantly in response.

They spent a few minutes in comfortable silence as Yondu attempted to get everything set up. Coordinating calls with Kraglin was always a bit of a nightmare, what with him being hundreds of thousands of clicks away at any given time, but it was worth it. Yondu missed Kraglin fiercely, secretly wished he would come join the school alongside him, be on a team together again. But Kraglin didn’t like school, had never been good at it, and his talents clearly lay elsewhere – captaining the Eclector. And Yondu didn’t trust anyone else to do the job (especially that stupid what’s-his-face).

Groot was enjoying himself in the meantime, bouncing up and down on Rocket’s chair, squealing and whooping with delight. Yondu’s eyes darted over to him every minute or so to make sure he wasn’t entertaining himself with the buttons on the console instead. “Be careful, kid, or you’re gonna send us flyin’.”

“I am Groot,” he retorted, insulted.

“I’m just sayin’, that’s all,” Yondu replied, holding up his hands defensively. “Alrighty, we’re in, I think. Krag? You there, boy?”

“H – zzt – ah – zzt – yeah – zzt – yeah, I’m here.” The speakers in the cockpit of the Milano screeched to life rather unpleasantly. “Howzit goin’, cap?”

“I keep tellin’ you to stop callin’ me that,” Yondu said, brightening. “You’re the captain now, Krag. Don’t forget it.”

“How could I? Everyone’s always hollerin’ at me about somethin’,” Kraglin grumbled. “It’s hell, Yondu.”

“Welcome to life, boy,” Yondu snorted. “And watch your language, I got twig here with me.”

Kraglin’s voice immediately softened. “Oh, hey, Groot. How’s it goin’, bud?”

“I am Groot,” Groot nodded, clutching onto the edges of the holo-screen as if it would improve his chances of being understood. “I am Groot…I am Groot…I am Groot? I am Groot.”

“Uhh.” Kraglin paused. “What’d he say?”

“You think I know?” Yondu snapped. “I still don’t quite understand him yet. Getting there.”

“But you said Pete and Gamora, they can talk to ‘im now, right? Maybe you just gotta hang out with the kid more."

“How can I? He’s the most popular Guardian, no matter how much Quill pretends it’s him. Always being passed around from person to person, everyone wantin’ a piece of him. Must be exhausting.” Groot let out a whine of protest, reaching to pat Yondu on the face affectionately. Even Yondu could help but feel a little warmer at the sight of his large, dark eyes. It was hard not to.

“An’ how’s everyone else doing? All the, uh, holiday stuff Pete’s got going on?”

“Think the stress has finally passed,” Yondu commented thoughtfully, patting Groot on the back. “We got a Christmas tree inside the ship, ‘cause that’s apparently a thing Terrans do. We got presents, lots o’ sugar and sweets. Think we’ve finally settled with everything Quill insists we need.”

“You sure? He’s always been more of a last-minute kinda guy,” Kraglin chuckled. There was a soft thump that told Yondu he’d just leaned back in his chair, probably propped his boots up on the display like he always did.

“Gotta say, Quill’s been more responsible lately,” Yondu admitted. “Guess he’s learnin’ that being captain don’t mean he can just boss everyone around. But y’know, it’s weird having him tell me what to do.”

“You sayin’ you wanna come back to the Ravagers and take over for me?” Kragin joked, though something in his voice also seemed to imply that he might have been somewhat serious. It was hard to tell with the poor reception.

“Hell, maybe I can retire young. Return to the Eclector and do jack shi – um.” He eyed Groot guiltily, though the little one didn’t even seem to notice, scratching at a particularly itchy spot on his belly. “Nah, I’m okay where I am. This Guardians business, getting my criminal records wiped clean? Fresh start don’t sound like too bad an idea to me.”

“Already done with your thievin’ days, huh? Don’t let the other boys hear ya.”

“They might just kick my a – behind – if they did,” Yondu laughed. “Well, Quill’s looking out for all of us, but someone’s gotta look out for him. I know I ain’t his best friend anymore, but I still know him best.”

“Aw, come on, Yondu, you really gonna think like that?” Kraglin protested. “We ain’t kids no more. You can have more than one best friend. Me? I got two best friends. You and Pete.”

Yondu turned away from the screen for a moment so he could inhale sharply without the microphone picking it up, a lump in his throat beginning to form. These weekly talks with Kraglin were a relatively new thing, something they'd picked up ever since Kraglin first accepted the job as the new Ravager captain. It had started with Kraglin calling the Milano during his first week, desperate for advice on how to deal with the rowdy crowd he’d been left to handle. It had quickly turned into long chats about almost nothing at all, and it made Yondu feel both light on his feet and oddly morose at the same time.

Sure, life on Earth was pretty cushy compared to the life-or-death situations he’d run into as one of the youngest Ravager captains in the history of the galaxy, but there was something really captivating, exhilarating, even, about the simple days of do-or-die. He missed the days of when he, Peter, and Kraglin were growing up together on the Eclector under Stakar’s watchful eye. Peter constantly getting into trouble trying to explore the private areas of the ship, Kraglin trying his best to pretend he wasn’t terrified at the prospect of being caught, while Yondu was probably the one to perpetrate the act of poking around in the first place. Even the mundane things, like doing chores or eating breakfast together, were things he wouldn’t quite be able to do ever again.

“Cap? You there? You gone all silent.”

“I said not to call me that anymore,” Yondu said hoarsely. Groot was snuggling into his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him. “Krag?”

“Yeah?”

“You, uh...you really sure you don’t wanna join me here on Terra? It’s got decent food and mighty fine women,” he suggested slowly.

“You know me, Yondu, I don’t got the brains for school,” Kraglin replied. Yondu could almost picture the self-deprecating smile.

“You’re smart, boy, don’t say that,” Yondu protested. “Hell, I thought the same of Quill, look at ‘im now. He’s been getting pretty decent grades, making good choices. That could be you, too.”

“I ‘ppreciate it, Yondu, but I’m good where I am.”

“I guess I, uh...I just miss you, is all. Haven’t seen your ugly mug in a while.” Yondu coughed awkwardly. “Say something, Krag, don’t make this weirder than it hasta be.”

“I miss you too.” He sounded choked up. Groot patted the console like he was trying to reach through to physically comfort Kraglin. They had only met a handful of times, but Kraglin was just as fond of Groot as pretty much everyone else was. “Hey, maybe I’ll convince the guys to drop ‘round Terra sometime and come see ya. Give us a tour of the planet or somethin’.”

“It’s a damn big planet, boy, won’t be easy.” Yondu tried picturing the Ravagers roaming the streets of New York City. Somehow, he couldn’t see that ending well, though the idea of them wandering through Times Square wearing “I Heart NY” ballcaps and chowing down on hot dogs made him laugh.

“We got time.”

“Right.” Yondu sniffled again. “I don’t know if it’s all of Quill’s yammerin’ on about being sentimental this time o’ year, but I’d like to move on past this sappy crap. Did ya finally evict that idiot? What’s-his-face?”

“Oh, Taserface,” Kraglin snickered. “Yeah. Threw a huge fit, but I got everyone on my side. There was this moment where he was tryna explain his name to us, said it was metaphorical…” ______

“Do we hafta go to this shindig?” Rocket complained. “I got a new gun I wanna work on.”

“You always have a new gun you wanna work on,” Gamora snorted as she strolled out of Peter’s bedroom, barefoot, holding a pair of heeled steel-toe boots in one hand and her utility bel in the other. She was wearing a silky black jumpsuit that Mantis had insisted she wear for the occasion, and was now struggling on where to stash her weapons. “Never thought you’d be hesitant about attending a social function that involves alcohol.”

“It ain’t even gonna be that busy,” Rocket replied. “Most everyone’s gone home ‘til school starts again.”

“How ‘bout this?” Peter emerged from his room as well, looking somewhat uncomfortable in a too-tight dress shirt (though Gamora wasn’t complaining) and oxfords that pinched his toes. “We go for an hour, we mingle, dance a little bit, and then come back and go do whatever we want.”

“If we do not go at all, Janet will be quite upset,” Mantis added.

“I would prefer not to face her wrath, so I’m inclined to agree with Quill,” Drax nodded.

“Fine, but if it ain’t open bar, you’re paying for all my drinks,” Rocket said, jabbing a claw in Peter’s general direction. He shrugged in defeat before turning towards Gamora.

“Do I look okay?” he asked as the others began dispersing to grab their coats. “This is definitely too tight. But I don’t have anything else for some reason.” She smiled teasingly, stepping closer to rest her hands on his shoulders.

“Doesn’t make for a bad view,” she drawled. “And I think I’ll just take the one blade tonight.” She held up the multi-tool he’d gifted her for their fake one-month anniversary, twirling it deftly between her long fingers. “I’m not expecting anything dangerous to happen, after all. I suppose the most exciting thing that could possibly happen is if you get drunk and puke on someone’s feet. Again.”

“I’m not planning on drinking tonight, actually,” Peter said as they both sat on the couch, pulling their shoes on. “I was hoping to hang out with you after we get back. Y’know, if you want.”

“Oh?” Gamora eyed him suspiciously. “What did you have in mind?”

“A movie?” he suggested. “If it’s just you and me, maybe A Christmas Story, but if Groot wants in, definitely A Charlie Brown Christmas. He’d love it.”

“Why don’t we have Groot join us then? It’s been a while,” she said. Then she leaned in, whispering, “We can always kick him out of our bed later.”

“Our bed, huh? I like where your mind’s at,” he grinned as they got to their feet. “Everyone ready?”

The Christmas Eve party was being held in the Avengers Dorm common area, hosted by the effervescent Janet van Dyne as always. It was a reasonably large room that had been cleared of most of its furniture in favor of a DJ booth (with Vision at the helm) and a buffet table with drinks and snacks. There was, of course, an incredibly tall Christmas tree set up next to the fireplace, glittering with red and gold decorations, garland and string lights dangling from every wall and ceiling beam, and of course, mistletoe in every doorway, making every student a little twitchy.

I don’t want a lot for Christmas…there is just one thing I need…

“Of course this is the song playing right now,” Peter chuckled as they entered the room, shaking his head. “I think this just plays on loop in Janet’s head all December.”

As if she’d heard him, Janet popped up seemingly out of nowhere, decked out in a poofy red-and-green dress, complete with Santa hat and, for some reason, a red feather boa. She was nothing if not over-the-top festive. “Hey!” she squealed. “Guardians, I’m so glad you came! It wouldn’t be a party without you.”

“Yes, where’s the alcohol? I’d like to forget that I was ever here,” Nebula interjected impatiently. Gamora pinched her in retaliation.

“I’ve got Steve on alcohol bodyguard duty,” Janet replied, gesturing towards the kitchenette. Captain America was indeed standing in front of the comically small fridge, arms folded sternly as if he were protecting some sacred item of worship (though on a college campus, free alcohol was probably the next best thing). “We’ve got a lot of younglings this year, can’t take our chances. That includes you, Groot!” Groot hopped from Rocket’s shoulder to Janet’s outstretched hands, letting out a happy squeal at the sight of his friend. “I’m trying to get pictures of everybody by the tree – for next year’s yearbook, you know? – and I’m also hoping for some shots under the mistletoe. Peter, Gamora, if you would be so kind – ”

“Janet,” Gamora groaned. “You already have a good dozen photos of us, is another really necessary?”

“Another one’s not gonna kill us,” Peter whispered softly in her ear. “Remember, the real number one rule of this school – don’t piss off Janet.”

“Fine, but you better get me a spare key to the gym before school starts, I’m increasing my training time now that I’m also teaching,” Gamora said to Janet, twisting her mouth in displeasure.

“You got it!” Janet said cheerfully, tugging her by the arm towards the closest tuft of mistletoe, and subsequently dragging Peter along with them.

The rest of the Guardians exchanged dubious looks before shrugging and dispersing. With her sister gone, Nebula stalked over to the fridge, giving Cap her best stink eye. “Move.”

“You could ask nicely,” Steve suggested. “And pullin’ out a knife won’t work on me. Been there, dealt with that.”

“Listen, you star-spangled di – ”

“Nebula!” She jumped at the sound of her own name, whipping around to see Mantis standing behind her. “All you have to do is say ‘please’. You always complicate things for yourself.” Mantis stepped a little closer, smiling warmly at Steve. “Drax and Rocket have requested I get a couple beers for them, if you would please.”

“Sure.” He handed them off to her, giving Nebula a pointed look as he did so. For all his clean-cut looks, he certainly was braver than the majority of the campus population. Most people tried their best to avoid any sort of eye contact. “Nebula?”

Nebula glared at him. “I’ll have a beer as well. Please.” Mantis nodded her approval, smiling encouragingly as he passed her another cold can. “Well, this has been pointless.” With that, she turned around and stomped off as angrily as she had arrived. Steve, who had seen just about everything, only raised an eyebrow in response.

“She is a work-in-progress,” Mantis whispered conspiratorially. “Pay no mind.”

He simply chuckled in return. “Nothing I haven’t seen before. But keep up the good work, Mantis. She’ll come around someday.” As if she’d overheard, there was a loud commotion not too far away. Their heads turned to find Nebula glaring at Daisy Johnson, who was shaking quite literally. “Um, maybe you should intervene before Quake causes a, well…quake.”

Before Mantis could move, however, Gamora peeled herself away from Peter, having also overheard Nebula’s snarls. “Well, that can’t be good,” she muttered to him before practically sprinting across the room. “Hey, Nebula! Nebula!”

“What?” she snapped, rounding on her sister instantly. Daisy took the opportunity to slink off, eyeing her surroundings carefully as she ducked back into the crowd. “What do you want?”

Gamora blanched a little. “You were fine before we left, did something happen?”

“Do I really need a reason to be angry?” Nebula cracked open her beer can and took a generous gulp. It vaguely reminded Gamora of when Valkyrie was in a bad mood. Or a good mood, really.

“Yes, actually. Because you can’t just go around acting like you don’t care when clearly, something is wrong,” Gamora hissed. “You can’t fool me, Neb, and you can’t avoid me either. So you might as well confess.”

“I have nothing to confess, Gamora. You’re starting to inherit Quill’s ability to invent drama when there is none.” Another sip.

It was interrupted by Gamora promptly grabbing her by the arm and yanking her into a secluded corner, shooing away the couple that had been making out there previously. They looked ready to argue until they realized who they were confronted with, and quickly ran off without a sound. “I’m not inventing drama, I’m reading the signs. You need to stop acting like I’m the enemy, because I’m not.” She paused, thinking back on the period of their lives in which they had been nothing but enemies to each other. She shuddered at the idea of it ever happening again. “Not anymore. I’m on your side, Nebula, I always am. So if something’s bothering you, just come out and say it.”

Nebula folded her arms across her chest, sloshing her beer around a little as she did, letting out a long exhale of utter defeat. “What is it with everyone wanting to discuss my feelings lately? Does it matter?”

“Yes, because what you want and feels matters to me, and it should matter to you as well,” Gamora said pleadingly, clasping her hands over Nebula’s tightly folded ones. “Are you not tired of being mad all the time? Or wishing that the things that happened never did? I have…cried, some nights, thinking about what we’ve gone through, but I don’t want to anymore. I’m tired of being tired. And I want to be at peace with myself, with what I’ve done. It’s the only way I can carry on with my life. And I want that for you, too.”

Nebula sighed again, though she gave her the tiniest of smirks. “Relax, sister. My feelings don’t run that deep. At least, not this time around. I just…I find it interesting. How similar you and I are. But this school values you so much more than it does me. Our classmates are all convinced of your greatness as a warrior and as a friend, yet refuse to make eye contact with me when I walk by. Like there’s some great allure to your existence, while I repel people.”

“You have to admit, Nebula, you aren’t the friendliest of people,” Gamora said, relaxing. Maybe she was finally going to get somewhere with her. “And I don’t blame you. We have every right to be wary of who and what to trust. But we’ve been here long enough – maybe it’s time to decide who you think is worth your attention.”

“The only person whose opinion I value is…well.” Nebula awkwardly waved a hand in Gamora’s general direction, causing her eyes to widen in surprise. Even the implied admittance was something that truly seemed like a holiday miracle. “I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised. Terrans don’t seem all that inclined to understanding the nuance of our personal histories. There are probably some who still fear us.”

“And we should pay no matter to them,” Gamora said, reaching to grab Nebula’s free hand and squeezing tightly. “Come on, let’s go socialize for just a moment. Standing around in the corner like this won’t bode well for our reputations. Maybe you can talk to Valkyrie? If there’s one thing she likes talking about incessantly, it’s a good fight. I bet you'd like to hear about her time on Sakaar.”

And just like that, the designated hour flew by without notice, at least, until Peter approached the group of women he knew to never cross unless he wanted to die an early death (among them being Valkyrie, Elektra, Carol, and of course, Janet), gently tapping Gamora on the shoulder. “Hey, you ready to go?”

“I certainly am,” Nebula said, her voice as droll and monotonous as ever, though it lacked the usual hostility that came with it. Peter swore he could also see the beginnings of a genuine smile. Either that, or she was more inebriated than she’d like to admit.

“Wait!” Janet exclaimed. “One moment, before you leave.” Gamora and Nebula exchanged dubious looks before the other girl returned, hefting quite the number of boxes that dwarfed her relatively small frame. “If you don’t want me to buy you presents next year I’ll totally respect that, but since it’s your first winter holiday on Earth, I just had to get you all a little something.”

“Uh. Little?” Peter held out his arms so Janet could unload them, his knees buckling slightly under the sheer weight of the packages. He could never understand how such a tiny girl could be so strong, with or without her Pym particles. “Thanks, Janet, this is really awesome of you,” he said, breath coming in short. He was certainly going to have a backache by the time they returned to the ship. With a patented eye roll, Gamora grabbed a few off the top of the pile and strolled off towards the exit. “Thanks, Gamora!” he called after her retreating back. Nebula merely snorted and disappeared to go find the others.

“Happy Christmas Eve, Peter,” Janet said cheerfully. “I hope you and the Guardians had a good time tonight. Between you and me, even Nebula seems to be in the holiday spirit.”

“It’s weird, right?” Peter chuckled. “But hey, I ain’t complaining. Nothing’s better than a happy team, especially when said team members could totally decapitate me or something, I mean, you should see their weapon cache, it’s crazy – ”

“I’ll see you around, Star-Lord,” Janet laughed, interrupting him mid-ramble to pat him on the shoulder and vanish into the crowd.

Once the Guardians had returned to the Milano and went their separate ways, Peter and Gamora curled up in Peter’s bunk, Groot sprawled out across Peter’s belly, as A Charlie Brown Christmas played from the projector on his holo-tab. “So I’ve been told Nebula’s doing better with people. Marginally.”

“We had a discussion of sorts,” Gamora said with a shrug. “But then again, we seem to be having said discussion every day. If anything, she’s probably giving in just so I stop bothering her about it. It’s progress, I suppose.”

“As long as you never give up on her,” he said, rubbing her shoulders reassuringly. “But I know you won’t. You always get the job done no matter what. She’ll come around eventually.”

She smiled up at him. “I’m always astounded by the amount of faith you have in me,” she murmured softly. “I don’t think I could trust myself that much.”

“I wish you would. And you’ve never given me reason to think otherwise.” He leaned downwards to kiss her briefly. Groot let out a tiny cooing noise at the sight from his vantage point against Peter’s chest. “But also, I’ll be the first to admit I’m totally biased.”

“As long as it’s not blind faith, I’ll gladly accept it.” She grinned before settling back down against his side, turning back towards the screen. “So why was it called Peanuts, exactly?” ______

“PETER! IT IS SNOWING AGAIN! YOU SHOULD COME SEE!”

Groaning, Peter slowly lifted his head up from the pillow, blinking blearily into the darkness of his room. “Whattimeisit?”

“Early.” Gamora’s face was still half-smushed into the other pillow, her hair splayed out across the sheets and tickling his nose. Hell, if she was still sleeping, then it was most definitely too early. They often joked that her morning alarm was an attempt to beat the sunrise. “Want me to take care of it?”

“Well, it is Christmas.” He smiled sleepily at her.

Sighing, Gamora rolled over to face the general direction of the bedroom door and hollered, “GO BACK TO BED, MANTIS! IT’S TOO EARLY FOR THIS!” She turned back to snuggle into Peter’s side, draping an arm across his front. “Done.”

“GAMORA, WHAT YOU YELLIN’ FOR?”

“YEAH, WE’RE TRYNA SLEEP HERE!”

“I DO NOT APPRECIATE BEING UP THIS EARLY WHEN WE HAVE NO CLASSES OR MISSIONS TO ATTEND TO - ”

“Shit.” Peter let out a delirious laugh into the pillow as he pulled her closer. “We’re never getting back to sleep at this point.”

“Speak for yourself,” Gamora mumbled, drifting off once again.

Eventually, at a more acceptable time of morning (when it could correctly be referred to as morning, and not, as Yondu so delicately put it, “the ass-crack of dawn”), the two of them made their way into the common area, pleased to be greeted with the welcome smell of fried eggs and fresh coffee, handled by Drax and Mantis respectively. Yondu was sprawled across the entire length of the couch, twirling his arrow between his fingers, while Nebula was sitting on the floor with her back against the side of the armchair, staring off into nothing. Rocket and Groot were at the dining table, looking over the schematics of the gun Rocket had been working on last night.

“Morning,” Mantis chirped happily as if she hadn’t interrupted everyone’s sleep not four hours ago. “Coffee? Eggs? Bacon? Hashbrowns?”

“The correct answer is ‘all of the above’,” Peter replied, grabbing a plate. “Also, seriously, what was up with you this morning?”

“Sorry,” Mantis said sheepishly as she began carefully pouring out two steaming mugs of coffee. “It just looked so pretty with the sunrise coming in, I thought we might want to do those activities you spoke of before. Snow angels and snowmen, correct?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sipped contemplatively after passing Gamora her cup. “All the snow we've been getting has been nothin' but hard ice. Maybe with today’s fresh snow, it’d finally be soft enough for us to do that stuff.” He turned to address the rest of the room. “Hey, guys, how do you feel about delaying opening our presents a little longer and heading outside instead?”

“Wasn’t looking to freeze my butt off,” Yondu said, frowning. “What you on about, Quill?”

“Well, you guys know that I wanted to go all out on Christmas traditions this year,” Peter said thoughtfully. “So maybe after breakfast, we could go play in the snow. Might be our only chance before it freezes over.”

“I am Groot?”

“Yes, and then presents, I promise,” Peter nodded, settling down at the dining table with his food. “Aw, Rocket, you’re really working on a holiday?”

“Holidays don’t mean squat to me,” Rocket shrugged. “I like workin’ on this stuff, you know that. Besides, once all this snow goes away and we can finally go on jobs and make money again, the baddies won’t know what hit ‘em. Here, take a look.”

“Save it for tomorrow, Rocket, and have some breakfast.” Gamora set a full plate down in front of Rocket with a little more vigor than necessary. “We’ll look at it, I promise. But let’s just take the day for us. We all deserve it.”

“Since when’re you the biggest cheerleader of ‘em all? You hate having no plans,” Rocket said, eyeing her suspiciously, though he did accept the fork she gave him, digging into his food happily, letting out a noise of satisfaction as he did. Drax was surprisingly adept at cooking Terran cuisine, while Peter had only just recently learned how to stop burning his grilled cheese sandwiches.

“Ever since Quill infected her.” Nebula slinked over to the kitchen, smirking. Mantis’s eyes widened a little, her cheeks burning, before she wordlessly handed her a plate. “Still, I suppose it could be worse. This campus is crawling with narcissistic optimists, so Quill is relatively mild in comparison.”

“I’ll take it,” Peter said through a mouthful of hashbrowns.

“Excuse me for wanting to believe in something for once,” Gamora said dryly. “The idea of going out in the snow sounds enjoyable enough. I thought you’d be happy I’m not insisting on doing drills or fight training today.”

“Oh, trust me, I ain’t complaining, just curious,” Rocket said, grinning at her so genuinely that she was taken aback. She finally sat down as well, on Peter’s right, smiling fondly when he reached under the table to squeeze her leg in greeting. Rocket’s face twisted once more in response. “Aw, come on, can’t you go five seconds without playing footsie?”

“I’m just saying hi,” Peter protested.

“Yeah, sure, then ‘hi’ turns into kissin’, and nobody wants to see that,” he grumbled, stabbing at his eggs. Mantis’s eyebrows shot up in concern, her antennae attuned to the downturn in everyone's mood. She smoothly slid into the seat next to Rocket, giving him a warning glance.

“Peter, Rocket and I were having a chat last night after we came back, about some of the devices he has been working on?” she said as casually as she could, hoping he couldn’t hear the nervous thump of her heartbeat as she began to lie through her teeth. “He said some of the parts he needs are likely on Halfworld. Perhaps we should prioritize a supply run once the snow has melted.”

“You sure you wanna go back to Halfworld, dude? Didn’t sound so fun when you described it to us,” Peter said curiously.

“Yeah, man, it’s no big deal. I just need a crap ton of things that I’m almost a hundred percent sure are on Halfworld. It’ll be like, three days max.” Rocket shot Mantis a grateful look when Peter turned back to his food.

“Then sure, I’ll add it to the itinerary. But hey, no more shop talk, okay? Like Gamora said, the day’s for us and nothin’ else.”

“You got it, Quill,” Yondu called from the couch. He was attempting to eat lying down, the plate balanced delicately on his stomach. “That’s practically my life’s motto.”

After breakfast was over, the Guardians bundled up as best they could, including Groot, who had received a custom-made coat and wool hat from Janet about a month ago, making him somewhat resemble a jumbo-sized marshmallow. They carefully made their way off the ship, wincing a little at the amount of snow that had already settled over the Milano and was sure to freeze over later. Still, they soldiered on down the loading bay and out onto the open field nearby, the satisfying crunch of their boots filling up the silence of the relatively empty campus.

Giddy, Mantis immediately began twirling about, sticking out her tongue to catch the flakes as they fell. Peter jogged over to join her, grabbing her hands and spinning her around in an improvised swing dance. “It’s so pretty,” Mantis giggled as they came to a stop. “I did not know it could be so soft!”

“All the snow we’ve been getting so far has been pretty unforgiving until now.” Peter bent to begin clearing out a small area for them to work in. “So, let’s do it, guys! Snowmen! Er, snowpeople. And snow raccoons. And…snow…trees.”

“And how do we make these ‘snowpeople’ you speak of?” Drax asked.

“You just use the snow, dude! You can make it as fancy as you want, or you can just roll up a bunch of huge snowballs, stack ‘em, add a couple sticks for arms, and call it a day,” Peter shrugged. “Watch.”

The others stepped back as Peter rolled out an enormously dense ball of snow, humming along with the music quietly streaming out of his headphones. He pushed it perfectly into place over the area he had cleared and proceeded to stack two more on top. Peter sang under his breath as he used a small branch to carve out the details, starting with the seams of his favorite jacket and pair of jeans. Already, its resemblance was obvious, even without a face.

“Interesting,” Gamora commented, cocking her head sideways to better observe Peter’s handiwork. “Alright, I’m in. Guardians?”

“Sure, as long as Quill shares his music. All the crunchin’ noises the snow's making is gonna give me a headache,” Rocket complained.

“Gladly,” Peter grinned, setting the Walkman down on the nearby bench and cranking up the volume.

Imagine me and you, I do...I think about you day and night, it's only right….to think about the girl you love and hold her tight...so happy together…

For the next hour, the Guardians proceeded to make snowpeople of their own, occasionally running off in search of things like pebbles and branches to complete their work. Even Groot got in on the action, setting up a tiny snow-Groot of his own next to Rocket’s creation, which ended up being the same height as him. “I am Groot?” he asked Rocket.

“No, no, don’t grow out your fingers and break ‘em off for arms, that’s a terrible idea," Rocket scolded. “Just grab some twigs from that tree over there like the rest of us."

If I should call you up, invest a dime...and you say you belong to me and ease my mind...imagine how the world could be, so very fine...so happy together…

“Mantis, you seem to have quite the artistic touch,” Drax said, not even bothering to hide his surprise as he observed Mantis carving out a near-perfect recreation of her own facial features. “It looks almost exactly like you.”

“Disgusting?” she teased, flicking some snow in his direction. Drax frowned, scooping up a little bit of snow himself and flinging it at her in return. Squealing, Mantis ducked behind her snowperson before pelting another snowball back. “Drax!”

Before the others could blink, Mantis and Drax had suddenly found themselves in an all-out snowball fight, sprinting around the snowpeople and nearly tripping over themselves in an attempt to run and scoop up snow from beneath their feet at the same time. Rocket immediately ducked to grab Groot before he could get trampled on, while Nebula rolled her eyes and continued on with perfecting the frown on her snowperson’s face with pebbles. She was never going to admit how long she had spent searching for the best ones.

“Wait, guys - ” Peter proceeded to join in, laughing wildly as Mantis tackled him to the ground a mere thirty seconds later. “G’mora - Yondu - Rocket - guys, join us - ”

“Ple-e-e-ease,” Mantis begged, getting up off of Peter and tugging on Gamora’s sleeve. Sighing, Gamora gave in, scooping up a snowball of her own and smushing it right onto Peter’s face. “Yay!”

“Mercy, mercy,” Peter spluttered through a faceful of ice. He could already feel his eyelashes freezing over. “Can we partner up instead of having a free-for-all so we don’t end up killing each other? Gamora, you wanna be on my team?”

“Always,” Gamora smirked, holding out a hand so she could hoist Peter to his feet. With that, everyone proceeded to break off into pairs - Drax and Mantis, Yondu and Nebula, who somehow agreed to work together by process of elimination, and even Groot got in on the fun once Rocket told him he was in charge of making snowballs (“And nothin’ else, I don’t need you getting hit in the face today!”).

Peter and Gamora took off first, ducking behind a particularly large oak tree, while the others spread out across the field. “So, what’s our plan of attack?” Peter said breathlessly, peering out from around its stump. Nebula was currently hanging off of Drax’s back, her arms wrapped around his neck as Drax spun around in an attempt to shake her off like a dog, while Yondu was pelting him repeatedly in the chest. Groot was running for cover behind his little snow-Groot.

“Depends on whether we want to ambush everyone at once, or pick them off team by team,” Gamora replied, beginning to vigorously pack a stack of snowballs. “I’m faster, but you have better aim.”

“If we take ‘em out one-by-one, that’ll give the others time to find our hiding spot. You throw, I’ll make,” Peter decided, grinning stupidly. He had never felt like such a little kid all over again until now, overeager and easily excitable. Being surrounded by the people he loved most in the galaxy only made it more exhilarating.

He quickly began scooping and shaping, while Gamora watched the chaos developing further out on in the open, seemingly unaware that she and Peter had disappeared. There was something comforting, almost, watching the Guardians attack each other with harmless snowballs instead of cutting each other with words, something they did far too often. She was guilty of it herself, verbally picking and scratching at everyone else��s problems and insecurities as a way to ensure their compliance (or occasionally, silence). But now, all she saw was her friends whooping and laughing enthusiastically as snow and ice flew about everywhere. Even Nebula seemed to be enjoying herself, though she wasn’t quite as vocal as the others, smirking as she rained absolute hell on Rocket, who didn’t seem to mind for once, returning fire with a giant grin on his face.

“Ready,” Peter said triumphantly, presenting her with what had to be at least fifty little spheres of neatly packed ice. Gamora folded herself into sniper’s position, lying on her belly while propped up on her elbows. She eyed the others speculatively, before picking up the first snowball and flinging it with all her might.

“Ow!” Drax roared, whipping about, trying to figure out who had just hit him square in the eye. He had no time to go looking, however, as the next snowball had landed in his mouth. Yondu barely had five seconds to burst into laughter before three snowballs landed neatly on his fin, causing him to yelp like a small child in surprise.

Within thirty seconds, Gamora managed to obliterate the others, now all collapsed on the ground in a panting heap. Even Groot looked tired, and he hadn’t even been involved in the fight. Smirking, Gamora turned back over to lean onto the tree trunk to look at a slack-jawed Peter. “How did I do?”

“Freaking amazing, that’s how,” Peter said, crawling towards her and wrapping his arms tight around her midsection. “We make an awesome team, don’t we?”

“Always,” Gamora repeated, allowing him to pull her back down into the snow as he kissed her enthusiastically, yelping a little when the sides of their faces ended up hitting the snow. Peter’s already-rosy cheeks were getting increasingly pink, the tip of his nose reddening as well. Gamora began rubbing his face with her gloved hands to warm him up, chuckling softly as he began nuzzling into her neck like a cat. “You’re such a child, Peter Quill. But I can’t say I mind all that much.”

“Because you love me,” he sing-songed, tilting his head up to meet her eyes. They were glittering with pure, unadulterated joy.

“Somehow, yes, you ridiculous child.” She leaned in, kissing him again. “Are you done demanding that I vocalize my affection now, or do you need more praise before I get to properly warm you up?” In lieu of a response, Peter pulled her in even closer, deepening the kiss.

I can't see me lovin' nobody but you...for all my life…when you're with me, baby the skies'll be blue...for all my life…

“Aw, gross. Shoulda known it was you that got us all,” Yondu chortled. Reluctantly, Peter and Gamora turned to look up at their friends who had surrounded them in a circle, slightly disgruntled, flushed, and covered in slush, but mostly glowing with happiness. “Well, if we can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

“What’s that s’posed to - ah!” Peter yelped as the others proceeded to throw themselves down on top of him and Gamora, resulting in Nebula’s sharp elbow in his gut and Drax’s knee landing on his crotch. Groot let out a happy cheer as he nested himself in Gamora’s scarf, cooing happily, while Mantis was sprawled out at the top of the pile, her giggling becoming increasingly delirious. “Dra-a-ax, you’re heavy as hell.”

“Mantis suggested group hugs would contribute to team morale. Do not single me out for my enormous muscle mass. I will not be shamed for my body, which is in impeccable condition,” Drax frowned.

“I just like hugs,” Mantis hummed happily, kicking her feet in the air.

“I am Groot,” Groot agreed.

“Fine, but we’re only staying here for two minutes, or else we’re going to freeze up and die. Then we’ll all be snowpeople,” Gamora said sternly, though she softened a little when Peter moved to kiss her again. His lips were ice cold, but she felt no need to stop him, as unappealing as it seemed.

Rocket made another gagging noise before turning back towards the field. “Uh, guys...about the snowpeople…”

Everyone turned their heads in the direction Rocket was looking, only to realize that their creations had been the real casualty of their battle. They were covered in boot marks and imprints of the bodies that had fallen on them, utterly crushed to bits, splintered pieces of “arms” and scattered pebbles lying at their bases as if to signify the fallen soldier of their respective owners.

“Oh well,” Peter shrugged. “There’s always next time.”

So happy together...how is the weather...so happy together...we're happy together…

Once everyone had retreated back to the safety and (relative) warmth of the Milano, Gamora and Mantis began grabbing towels and extra blankets from the supply closet, with Gamora insisting everyone dry off and change before finally getting around to opening presents. Drax began making hot chocolate on the stove, while Peter pulled up the holo-screen and started playing Frosty the Snowman to keep Groot occupied while they waited.

“Peter? Why are there so many presents under here?” Gamora began poking around at the pile of boxes underneath the tree. She wasn’t sure when they had amassed to such an amount, but it had become something of a small mountain. “I know those are Janet’s back here…some from Stark…these are the ones for me from Natasha and Elektra and Val…but what’s all this?”

Peter turned away from the screen to join her by the tree, smiling at the sight of the hand-written ornaments they’d worked on not too long ago. His favorite was the one where Mantis had written “MY NEW FAMILY” in large, looping letters, surrounded by little hearts. “My current theory? Everyone kinda ignored Secret Santa and just got everyone else presents, too. I mean, that’s what I did.”

“As did I,” Gamora confessed. She couldn’t help it – shopping for her Secret Santa had only led to her seeing at least half a dozen things she wanted to buy for everyone else. “But doesn’t that ruin the intention of giving gifts to only one person?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said with a shrug. “Tradition’s tradition, but doesn’t mean we gotta stick to it, word-for-word. And hey, more presents for everyone. Can’t complain about that.”

“No, I suppose not,” Gamora replied, smiling. She turned to address the rest of the room. “Is everyone ready? Drax?”

He briskly strolled into the living room with a tray of steaming mugs of hot chocolate, wearing the gag apron Peter had gotten him for his birthday (it proclaimed in bright red letters across the chest: “kiss the chef”). “Yes, let us proceed,” Drax said proudly as he began distributing marshmallows into the drinks. Peter made a grab for the “World’s Best Dad” cup and passed Gamora the one that said “I Hate Mugs with Funny Slogans” (she really, really did). “Who will go first?”

“I think Peter should. After all, he is the one who encouraged all of these festivities,” Mantis suggested.

“I can get on board with that,” Gamora said as she settled onto the couch. “Besides, he’ll go crazy in anticipation otherwise. So, who was responsible for his gift?”

“Me,” Rocket said, raising a paw. “It don’t look like much until I explain it to you.” He passed Peter one of the tiniest boxes, a small rectangle the size of a paperback, wrapped in butcher’s paper and tied off with what was clearly some spare string he had lying around.

Peter ripped it open, curious about what Rocket meant, and opened the unassuming box inside. There, nestled in old newspaper, was an electronic device of some sort, vaguely resembling a remote. “Okay, I give. I can’t tell what it is. What’s it do?”

“I rewired a good chunk of the ship, including your precious tape deck,” Rocket explained, grinning so widely he was baring his canines. “That right there is a universal remote for the Milano. You wanna turn off the lights without walking around the whole ship? Pull down the holo-screen without getting up from the couch? Change the song playing on the tape? It’ll do it all. Genius, right?”

“Quill with remote access to the entire ship? Hoo boy,” Yondu winced.

“Rocket, I…thanks, dude!” Peter exclaimed, moving across the floor to pull Rocket into a giant hug. “This is awesome, man.” Rocket’s ears flattened at the sudden physical contact, before wrapping his arms around Peter’s neck as well, patting him awkwardly on the back. “I’m gonna use the crap outta this, trust me.”

“I’m already anticipating disaster. I’ll be sure to confiscate it if it becomes chaos,” Gamora muttered to Drax, who nodded sagely in agreement.

“I guess Rocket should be next then,” Peter said, sitting back down. “Who got Rocket’s present?”

“That would be me,” Gamora said. “Though I didn’t put it under the tree since it looks somewhat underwhelming. I promise it’s valuable, though.” She grabbed a small manila envelope from under the armchair and presented it to Rocket. “Go on, open it.”

Rocket eyed it doubtfully before breaking the seal on the envelope. Five small slips of paper fell into his lap, plain white paper with no special markings of any kind. The only thing on them, in Gamora’s neat handwriting, was the following:

GET-OUT-OF-MEETING-FREE CARD - ADMIT ONE

(Note: This does not apply to meetings pertaining to galaxy-wide emergencies. You don’t get to opt out of Thanos-level disasters, Rocket.)

“Considering you complain the loudest about my efforts to get everyone involved more than the others, I figured it would be a blessing for you to walk away without my interference,” Gamora added with a small chuckle. “I promise to say nothing more than ‘you’re dismissed’.”

“Gotta say, I was kinda skeptical at first, but I love it,” Rocket said happily, holding them up in triumph. “Thanks, Gam. You ain’t gonna see me at the next five monthly budget review meetings, that’s for sure.”

“I figured,” she laughed. “Just sign off on the ammo you need us to get and you’re in the clear.”

“I was responsible for your present, Gamora!” Mantis said excitedly, grabbing a lime green box with a matching ribbon bow on top. “I am hoping it will be of use to you.”

“I’m sure it will be,” Gamora said reassuringly. Unlike Peter and Rocket, she took care in peeling back the tape and untying the ribbon, neatly unfolding the wrappings to the point where Rocket was beginning to grow impatient again. “Oh, wow.”

Inside the box was what at first appeared to be just a small cube of soft black leather, no bigger than Gamora’s fist. However, once she picked it up, she realized it was tucked into itself at the corners. She began unfolding it, picking at the small strings and loops that held it together. When it was completely untangled from its own self, it was then that she recognized what it was – a brand new utility belt, complete with tiny pockets and a holster for her sword. Stitched on the inside of the front waistband was Gamora’s name in green thread that was a near-perfect match for her skin.

“What do you think?” Mantis asked nervously. “Since you are teaching fight classes in the new semester, I thought you might need a less bulky belt that would still allow you to store everything you would need, and something softer that would not weigh you down. Also, I hand-made it myself. I have been getting Janet to teach me how to sew for the past month.”

“Mantis, this is amazing,” Gamora said in a near-whisper, holding it up as if it were something precious – and to her, it was. “How did you figure out the loop-and-tie mechanism? It seems both intricate and effective.”

Mantis beamed, pleased. “It wasn’t easy,” she admitted. “But I’m so glad you like it.”

“Like it? I love it,” Gamora declared. “Thank you Mantis, it’s perfect.” She wrapped her arms around the younger girl, smiling when she felt Mantis let out a sigh of relief against her shoulder.

“And this is for you, bug-girl,” Yondu said with an unusual amount of fondness, handing her what appeared to be an old shoebox. Confused, Mantis accepted it, taking the lid off and setting it aside before gasping at the sight of its contents. “I sure hope that’s a good noise ya just made there.”

The shoebox contained stacks upon stacks of pictures, postcards, news clippings, and the like, from planets and star systems across the galaxy, places Mantis had only dreamed of seeing when she was a child. It was no secret that one of the biggest reasons she had joined the Guardians was to finally experience life outside of Ego’s planet, to meet new people, see new places, experience everything she had never gotten a chance to before. Of course, there were many planets they knew she would be unlikely to see, places where the Guardians would never be welcomed, but this was a good start.

“A little piece of most of the places us Ravagers have been. I even called up a few favors from the other factions, see what kinda trinkets they been collecting themselves,” Yondu smiled. “I know you got a lot of spirit in you, girl, you wanna see the world because you don’t know how crazy it can be quite as much as we do. But maybe this’ll give you an idea of what’s out there, the kinda fun you might get to have one day. Just ask Quill to take you there, he’s been to a bunch o’ those places. Have a good time.” Mantis sniffled as she began flipping through the documents, sighing happily at each new image. “Oh, no, you ain’t about to cry, are ya?”

“No,” she whimpered. Another strong inhale, this time rattling from her chest. “I still have some flu symptoms left.” Her bottom lip began to wobble. “But also, this is very kind of you. Thank you, Yondu!” Unable to contain her happiness no longer, she flung herself into Yondu’s arms, squeezing him so tightly he let out a rather undignified squeaking noise, unlike anything he’d ever made before.

“You got an iron grip, bug-girl, leggo,” he wheezed. She peeled away, giggling softly in apology before setting the box aside. “Alright, who was the unlucky fool who got stuck with me?”

“My present does not have a physical form,” Drax said, bowing his head. “So you will have to take my word for it, Yondu. But I noticed you have been quite glum lately, and were missing the company of your Ravagers. Groot told me after your last call to Kraglin that you were hoping to see them again soon. So, I made another call to Kraglin, and arranged for the Eclector to make a stop by Earth next week. I also got Director Fury’s permission. He will clear out space in the loading bay for them to land an M-ship and join us, along with excusing you from all your classes so you can take them around and show them your new home.”

Yondu blinked, at a loss for words. “R – really?” he stammered. Peter grinned – he’d never seen Yondu so flabbergasted before. “Boy, that’s…that’s mighty kind of you. You ain’t joking?”

“I would never joke about something so important to you,” Drax frowned. “I am not a cruel person.”

“No, you definitely ain’t,” Yondu agreed, clapping Drax on the back. “Thanks, Drax. Hey, maybe you could join us! I been telling the Ravagers a bunch of stories about good ol’ Drax the Destroyer. They’d be interested in meetin’ you.”

“I would be honored,” Drax replied, pleased, patting Yondu on the shoulder in return. He winced a little at the force of the impact.

“Is it finally my turn?” Nebula groaned. “I have been waiting for so long.”

“Nebula,” Gamora warned.

Ignoring her, Nebula pulled out a hastily-wrapped box from under the tree and shoved it into Drax’s arms. Without a word, she turned away from him, apparently in no rush to explain her present the way everyone else had done so far. Somewhat confused, he shrugged and tore open the packaging to find a set of wooden carvings that were hollowed out inside, complete with a sort of intricate scroll-like design around its opening. He turned them over, perplexed, and startling at the sight of a name engraved on the underside – Hovat. “What…what is this?”

Rolling her eyes, Nebula stalked over to him, yanked out one of his blades from his boot, grabbed one of the wooden pieces, and slid it perfectly onto its hilt. “Sturdier handles, you idiot. Hearing you complain about knuckle cramps day in, day out, because you don’t realize your knife handles aren’t perfectly balanced, is painfully annoying. I needed to put an end to it.”

“And Hovat’s name?”

“The engraving came free if you buy a set of two or more,” Nebula snapped. Peter was trying his hardest not to laugh – this was possibly the most aggressive act of gift-giving he had ever witnessed. “So? Do you like it or not?”

“It was very thoughtful of you, Nebula, thank you,” Drax said gently, a tearful smile beginning to form on his face. “I do like the idea of keeping my Hovat close by.” There was an awkward pause in which he considered whether to hug her or not, but then rightfully decided to avoid potentially losing his fingers in the process.

“Last but not least – drum roll, if you please – ” Mantis began enthusiastically drumming her hands on her legs “ – for you, Nebula.” Peter pulled out a key from his back pocket with a flourish and held it out to her.

“What the hell is this?” She snatched it up immediately, holding it to the light, expecting it to reveal further secrets.

“I know that all of us, me and Gamora especially, always bother you about being part of a team, part of a family, that kinda stuff. And you like being alone, which is totally fine. But the problem for you right now is, we know all your hiding spots, and we’re kinda guilty of tracking you down all the time. So, if you need somewhere to go where none of us can interfere, that key opens to the rooftop of the main library building. It’s in the middle of the campus so you can do all your weird people-watching, literally no one else has that key – not even Fury or any of the janitors – and I got it cleaned out. There was like, bird crap and tons of leaves up there. Anyways, that spot? It’s yours, and yours alone.”

“And you discussed this with her beforehand?” Nebula eyed Gamora suspiciously.

“No, actually, he didn’t. But I think it’s a good idea,” Gamora said softly. “We mean well, Nebula, but I know you like your solitude. I know I sometimes need a break from everyone, too. If it helps you deal with whatever’s going on in your head, take that key and put it to good use. But know that you can talk to us as well.”

Nebula swallowed. “Right. Uh, thanks, I guess.” She gave Peter the briefest of smiles, one that made him question if he had just briefly hallucinated. “I think I’ll be using this to get out of budget meetings as well.”

“I am Groot?” Groot looked up imploringly at the rest of the group, wondering what his present was going to be. Since Groot was the only one who couldn’t make money or really go shopping in the first place, he had been taken out of the running for Secret Santa, but he knew that the other Guardians had worked together to get him something, too.

“Well, Groot, y’know that room we have set aside for you when you’re more…humie-sized?” Rocket began, scooping him up. All the Guardians stood and walked down the corridor towards the bedrooms, where Peter unlocked said room and swung the door open wide for Groot to see. “We thought it was kinda stupid we haven’t been using this room for anything. Well, up until now. We got Stark to build you a little jungle gym in the meantime. Turns out he’s good for something after all.”

“It’s kinda based off of, like, hamster playsets. We’ve got tunnels going up to the ceiling, ladders, monkey bars, the whole nine yards,” Peter said proudly. Rocket set Groot down inside the room, watching as the little one stepped cautiously, his already-large eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“I am…Groot,” he breathed.

When Peter had first gone to Tony, requesting the jungle gym, he had stressed the importance of it not looking like Stark’s usual gadgets and gizmos – modern, metal, sleek and shiny – but rather like it had been built by bare hands and a bench, consisting mostly of carved wood. The bases were painted to look like tree stumps, the bridges and ladders consisted of wooden slats tied together with old rope, and the decorative pieces looked like winding spirals of vines and branches, like the kind that sprouted from Groot himself.

With an excitable shriek, Groot immediately began climbing up one of the ladders to the very top, peering down at them from the rope bridge. He waved at them eagerly before running around and around in circles, swinging across the monkey bars with ease. Mantis began filming him on her phone, cooing at the adorableness of it all.

“I am Groot,” he said happily, beaming.

“You’re welcome, man,” Rocket said, grinning back. “Now c’mon, the rest of us still got presents to open.”

The rest of the present opening was less of a dramatic affair, with everyone passing around wrapped packages in varying states of neatness while they sipped hot chocolate. Peter had turned on the radio for once instead of using his Walkman, letting the dulcet tones of Bing Crosby fill the room.

“Should’ve known this wasn’t going to go perfectly,” Gamora sighed as she crossed the room to settle into Peter’s side, watching as Nebula began presenting everybody else with garishly ugly socks. “She can’t help herself, can she? Regardless, I’d say it’s much better than last year. I was still finding bits of plasma in my hair a week after we returned from jail.”

“That was possibly the grossest mission we’ve ever been on,” Peter agreed. “So, I did end up getting you a present, by the way.”

“You buy me random trinkets so often I have nowhere to put them,” she teased, squeezing his waist affectionately. “What is it?”

“Well, you’ve been showing more interest in Terran culture lately, but you’ve only been seeing it from my perspective,” Peter explained. “And, y’know, as much as I like to pretend I know what’s going on, I know I’ve got a limited understanding of Earth. So I thought you would like to see it from a point of view that you’d identify with more.” He handed her a hardcover book – no wrappings or other fancies – watching her face nervously as she examined it.

“Bad Girls Throughout History - One Hundred Remarkable Women Who Changed The World,” she read slowly, eyes drinking in the hand-drawn illustrations. She fell silent as she read the description and flipped through it, her smile becoming softer with every page. “I guess this school doesn’t really delve too deeply into history outside of your world wars, does it?”

“And I figured if you wanted to learn more, badass Terran women would be a good place for you to start. I also got you a hundred dollars worth of store credit at that used bookstore in the city that you really like,” he added. “Do you like it?”

“I do, I really do,” she said, grinning as she kissed him. “Thank you, Peter. I’ll start reading it tonight. Oh, and I got you something as well.”

“What? Really?” He watched as she walked over to the tree and plucked out yet another tiny box, kneeling in front of him. “You didn’t have to, you know.”

“Did you really think I was going to get gifts for everyone else and not you?” she teased. “It barely cost me any units, so don’t worry. And I like taking part in your traditions, Peter, they intrigue me. So go on, open it.” He rubbed his hands together in excitement before removing the wrappings and the lid to unveil what was inside, eyes widening in shock when he realized what it was.

Nestled among neatly crinkled decorative tissue paper was a cassette tape, marked “For Peter”.

“Granted, we don’t share the same taste in music,” she continued. “Your music has grown on me substantially, however, so I compiled some of your favorites and some new things that should be to your liking.” Almost immediately, he pulled Gamora closer until she was practically straddling him, wrapping her tightly in his arms, burying his face in her neck. It had become his favorite place to be. She let out a surprised cry before returning the gesture with a soft laugh. “You haven’t listened to it yet, Peter, it could be awful.”

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” Peter murmured, kissing the crook of her jaw.

“I have an inkling.” She leaned back so she could gently slide the Walkman off his belt. “Here, give it a go.”

With slightly trembling fingers, Peter popped out the tape inside and slid the new one in, closing it with a satisfying snap. He slotted the headphones snugly over his ears before turning one side outwards so Gamora could hear what he was listening to. He took a soft breath for pause in anticipation, before pressing play.

Oh, I could hide 'neath the wings...of the bluebird as she sings...the six-o'clock alarm would never ring...but six rings and I rise...wipe the sleep out of my eyes...the shaving razor's cold and it stings…

Humming softly with the melody, Peter began drumming out the beat on the small of Gamora’s back with the pads of his fingers once the chorus began, apparently having no intentions of letting her go. She was fine with that – she’d gotten rather comfortable here, though she had a feeling the moment the other Guardian stopped arguing with each other over Nebula’s godforsaken socks, they would spot them and tease them once again.

Now you know how happy I can be...oh, and our good time starts and ends...without all I want to spend...but how much, baby, do we really need?...

“Not much, really,” he said quietly in response, grinning almost shyly. “I think I’ve got all I need right here on this ship.”

“Ever the romantic,” she said fondly, cupping his jaw and leaning in. “Happy holidays, Peter Quill.”

Cheer up sleepy Jean...oh, what can it mean...to a daydream believer and a homecoming queen?... ______

“Is there a reason we’re out here freezin’ our asses off? You tryna prank us, boy?” Yondu said through chattering teeth. He and Drax were having a rare moment of solidarity, huddled together underneath one of Yondu’s ostentatiously enormous fur-lined coats.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t wear enough. I told you where we were going,” Peter protested, though mostly because he didn’t want to give them the satisfaction that he, too, was beginning to lose feeling in his fingers and toes. Gamora, who wasn’t about to let Peter freeze to death or, more importantly, start yet another dick-measuring contest, practically shoved herself into his side, hoping her higher body temperature would warm him up before he started making excuses.

“That don’t explain things,” Rocket snapped. “What’re we doing, Quill? This can’t be another one of your holiday traditions, holiday’s over.”

“Uh, not quite,” Peter said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Tomorrow’s New Year’s Eve, when everyone makes these big declarations of how they’re gonna change in the new year. And I know Gamora likes it when we set goals and talk about what we wanna do about our future, so I thought we’d just, like, do it together. Talk about what we wanna do.”

“But did we have to do it on the roof?” Nebula exclaimed, kicking some fresh snow to punctuate her point, sending a gentle spray of ice flying over everyone’s laps.

The Guardians were indeed on the roof of the Avengers Hall, where they hadn’t been since Halloween night. It wasn’t snowing nearly as hard as it had been for most of the month, having slowed to a near stop, but it was still below freezing, leaving everyone a little cranky and worse for the wear.

As predicted, Christmas hadn’t magically solved all of the squabbles and fights they’d been having. Nebula and Rocket got into yet another spat over nothing, Groot had a tantrum when he accidentally broke one of the swings on his new gym set, and Drax became boorish, confronted with his memories of Hovat once more. Yondu was secretly too excited to see his boys again to really let anything bother him, and he stayed clear of everyone else’s paths. Peter and Gamora were still in relative romantic bliss (Peter insisted they were going to be in the so-called ‘honeymoon stage’ forever), aside from the time she had tripped over the jacket he had left on their bedroom floor and nearly banged her head on the corner of his desk. Still, they were a little less high-strung and snappish than usual, mellowed out for the most part (Gamora blamed it on the spiked eggnog. She wasn’t sure who to blame it on, but it certainly made Rocket and Yondu more agreeable than usual). Peter considered it to be a welcome change, even though he knew it was going to be temporary. The next major fight, a particularly stressful job or mission, was most definitely going to restore the Guardians’ status quo.

“Well, excuse me for wanting to have a nice moment,” Peter complained.

“I think it is a good idea,” Mantis piped up. “I have always said it is good for us to discuss these things together.”

“Thank you, Mantis,” Peter said triumphantly, as if her word declared the consensus of the entire group. “First on the agenda – I know these were supposed to be here earlier, but with Surtur tryna cause Ragnarok, and Hela coming after Thor here on Earth, Fury’s had his hands full. But better late than never.” He produced two envelopes from his knapsack and held them out to Yondu and Nebula. “Welcome to the Guardians of the Galaxy. I dunno why there needs to be paperwork, but, uh, just go with it.”

“I’ll be,” Yondu said cheerily, ripping it open and grinning in ecstasy at the official declaration. “Never thought it’d be the kinda gig I’d be offered, what with my reputation, but I ain’t complaining if it gets me units and fame.”

“C’mon, Yondu, we know that’s not all you’re about,” Peter chuckled, patting him on the back. “But congrats, dude. I’m proud of you.”

Nebula, however, was still staring at the envelope in her hands as if she were expecting it to spontaneously burst into flames. Gamora watched her cautiously for a moment before pulling away from Peter’s embrace to gently grasp her arm. “Nebula…I know I’ve been pressuring you a lot lately about being part of this team. But that choice is yours to make. If you prefer to just remain a student and not accompany us as a Guardian, I understand. It doesn’t mean we’ll kick you out or abandon you.”

“How did you accept it so easily?” Nebula’s voice was so quiet, only Gamora could hear. “Pretending to be a saint, and forgetting you were ever a sinner?”

“You sound like you’ve been talking to Murdock too often,” Gamora commented with a shake of her head. “I haven’t forgotten what I’ve done, Nebula. But I just want to move past it, and this is how I do it. Every planet that I help, every life that I save – and maybe this sounds selfish – it makes me feel better. It restores my faith in myself, and that’s where I need to start. I no longer feel the need to answer for what I did when I served Thanos, because this right here? This is my answer. My new purpose. And maybe it’s yours as well. But it doesn’t have to be.”

“Well, not that legality has ever stopped me before, but I suppose having it can’t hurt.” Nebula gave her a tentative smile before tearing the envelope open, staring at the neatly-typed print of her name at the very top, scanning over the brief paragraph that congratulated her on her official Guardian membership. “Quill, this doesn’t mean it gives you the right to tell me what to do.”

“Actually, that’s kind of exactly what it means,” Peter shot back. “Whether you listen is a different story.”

Nebula blanched at his response before smirking, somewhat impressed. “He bites back,” she snorted. “Maybe my sister didn’t choose so poorly after all. Alright then, Quill. How does this ‘resolution’ thing work?”

“Well, I was thinking we could each set one personal goal and one goal for the group,” Peter suggested. “Here, we’ll write it out.” He pulled out his holo-tab and opened a blank note, its large projector screen hovering in front of everyone’s faces. “Who wants to start?”

“Me,” Mantis said, waving a hand in the air enthusiastically like a schoolchild. “I do like helping you all with your feelings. I believe it is one of my greatest purposes here. But I have spent so much time assisting you, that I have not taken the time to understand myself. So I would like to spend more time focusing on who I am and who I want to be. Does that make sense?” She looked around at them, her eyes darting from person to person nervously. Drax patted her in reassurance, smiling encouragingly. “Um, and I think one thing we could do as a group is confront our problems right away. Many of the fights we have had are simply because of miscommunication. If we clarify our issues early on, then maybe they will not happen as often.”

“That’s a great idea, Mantis,” Gamora praised. “Granted, I don’t know if it’ll work, but there’s no harm in trying.”

“Is that you volunteering to go next?” Peter said with a quirk of his eyebrows as he finished typing Mantis’s suggestion.

“Fine,” Gamora said, though not before fixing him with a glare. “I want to have a more active role in this school’s community. I spent far too long in the first year of us being here wallowing in self-doubt, assuming everyone despised me. In reality, this planet has very little idea of my past. I don’t want to miss the opportunity for more allies in our eventual fight against Thanos, so maybe I need to take advantage of that. Besides, having friends doesn’t seem so bad after all,” she added with a chuckle. “As for the team…I’ve been saying for a while now, if we all just have stronger focus, stronger discipline, we won’t have as many issues. I wouldn’t lecture you all nearly as much as I do if you paid more attention. Look at Peter, for example. His productivity is much improved.”

“That’s probably ‘cause you got him wrapped around your finger, but okay,” Rocket snorted. “Alright, I’ll go next. I was thinkin’ about other ways to make some quick cash, make myself useful while we’re here, so I think I wanna offer up my services as an engineer. Teach other people how to fix their crap. Plus, that money’ll strictly be mine and I won’t have to share with you losers. And, it’ll piss off Stark. As for all of us…I dunno, if you guys can learn more about how to do quick fixes on the ship, that’d save me a lot of time. I can teach ya.” His eyes suddenly widened. “Wait, can I charge you guys for engineering tutorials?”

“No, Rocket,” Gamora said sternly. He muttered a couple choice nonsensical words under his breath in response, though nothing distinctive enough for her enhanced hearing to catch.

“Like Gamora, I like the idea of having more companionship in my life,” Drax said thoughtfully. He was twirling one of his blades absentmindedly, watching as Hovat’s engraved name spun over and over as he did. He knew he would never find one quite like her, but he didn’t have to. He didn’t want a replacement Hovat. Romantic pursuits were about the last thing on his mind, at least for now. “Perhaps I will reach out to the other warriors on campus, see if we are as like-minded as I hoped. Thor, Korg, Hulk…”

“You can all bond over having four-letter mononymous names,” Peter suggested. Gamora prodded him in warning. “Ow. I’m just saying.”

“In regards to the team…I must admit, I don’t spend as much time with you all as I would like,” Drax continued, ignoring Peter’s quip. “I think these traditions of yours, Quill…while they might seem strange to us, I suppose much of our culture also seems foreign to you. Such as my father’s story of impregnating my mother.” The others winced – it was frankly foreign to everyone. “But they also made me appreciate everyone more, not just as people to fight with, but as my family. I think we should engage in more non-combative activities to strengthen our bond.”

“It’ll be difficult with school and missions and the other craziness we’ve got going on, but I like where your mind’s at,” Peter replied, pleased.

“My mind is right where it has always been,” Drax said firmly.

“Right, my turn,” Yondu interrupted. “I aim to do better at school. I like the idea of getting my criminal record wiped clean, and that won’t happen if I keep skippin’ classes and filling out them Scantrons with nothin’ but A’s.”

“And answering every question that begins with ‘can you explain’ with ‘no’,” Gamora added.

“And nappin’ under the desk in the engineering labs,” Rocket continued.

“And writing my name on all of your essays!” Peter exclaimed. “Dude, I almost failed Criminology because of you. I’m not even taking Criminology!”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard ya,” Yondu grumbled. “Like I was sayin’ – I’ll try harder next semester. And I honestly got nothing for the rest of us to do, because you’ve all suggested just about everything already. I like Drax’s suggestion of more fun, though. That’s all I want outta life.”

“Fair enough,” Gamora nodded. “Nebula? Thoughts?”

“Well, you all appear to be on a self-improvement kick. How predictable,” Nebula snarked, turning around so her back was against the railing, arms folded firmly over her chest. Sitting on the snow-covered ground was starting to leave unflattering wet spots on everyone’s backsides. “I’ll just settle with figuring out my role on this team. I don't care to worry about the rest of you. I don't have the patience for it."

“Well, at least you’re honest,” Gamora sighed. “Groot?”

“I am Groot,” he suggested tentatively from his spot on Rocket’s shoulder. “I am Groot?”

“Fewer tantrums sounds awesome, dude,” Peter chuckled. “Am I the last one? Okay then, uh…I wanna be a better leader. I know I do a lot of talking, but I wanna listen more. At least, this talk we’re having right now, that’s a start, right? I just…I get so excited thinking about what I do for a living, and who I get to do it with, and I want us to be the best damn heroes this galaxy’s ever seen. But…I know it’s hard to do that without great leadership. Not that that’s a slight against you, Gamora, you’re doing awesome,” he added quickly.

“I had no doubts,” she said dryly, though she reached to squeeze his hand in thanks. “And your suggestion for the Guardians as a whole?”

“This is kinda adding on to Mantis’s, but…don’t feel like you have to keep your thoughts and feelings to yourself.” He smiled at them ruefully. “We’ve all dealt with shit. We’re still dealing with shit every day. But as Gamora likes to tell me, two of the most important things in relationships are trust and honesty. So like, say something if you’re having a bad day, or you don’t like something that’s been going on. We’re a team, not a bunch of people who just happen to work together.”

“Thought you were about to launch into another motivational speech for a second, and I zoned out,” Rocket snorted. “But sure, I’ll bite, Quill. More talking, like we don’t got enough of that already. Can we go now? There’s icicles in my fur, and it ain’t pleasant.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go, grumpy,” Peter laughed, getting to his feet. Everyone began following suit, chatting nonsensically to each other as they did. It was beginning to snow again, this time in small, but densely packed flakes. “Okay, we really need to get outta here, come on!”

They filed in through the roof access door one by one, shivering profusely. Nebula hesitated, wondering whether now was the right time to do it. Well, you’ve never been scared before, what’s stopping you this time? she thought, watching as the others vanished from sight. “Mantis,” she called.

The other girl turned in the doorway, blinking at her in confusion. “Is something wrong?” she asked, taking a tentative step forward. Nebula supposed she couldn’t blame her for being cautious – her hands were clasped behind her back, probably giving Mantis the impression she was about to pull out a blade or something.

“When I was at the mall with Quill, he mentioned that you were on a personal journey or whatever.” She practically shoved the item into Mantis’s gut, causing her to let out a small “oof”. “I thought this might be of use, especially since – like brother, like sister – you like to talk so much.”

Though the snow was starting to blur her vision, Mantis could vaguely make out what she was looking at – a book, heavy with a plush green cover, the word ‘journal’ embossed in gold cursive. Each page, made of thick cream-colored stock, was edged with gold to match. There were prompts on every other page, suggestions of what to write or think about, along with a small box to mark moods and feelings. It was the sort of thing Nebula scoffed at, something she would describe as “utterly pretentious”, but to Mantis, it was a step in the right direction.

“This must have been quite expensive,” Mantis pondered aloud, looking back up at Nebula. Her large eyelashes were now coated with flecks of snow, making her eyes appear even bigger than usual, cheeks unusually flushed.

“I can take it back if you don’t want it,” Nebula snapped, taking another step forward to snatch it back. Mantis immediately leaped away, clutching the book to her chest protectively.

“No, I do, it’s wonderful!” she exclaimed. “Thank you for the gift. I will most definitely put it to good use.” She smiled softly, reaching to awkwardly pat the other girl’s shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Nebula.”

“Christmas is over, you weirdo,” Nebula huffed, hastily brushing past her to catch up with the rest of the Guardians. Mantis chuckled to herself before turning to hurry down the stairs. It really was getting too cold for comfort, though if her chest was feeling a little warmer than it had been a minute ago, no one needed to know.

a/n: happy holidays, lovelies! i hope this fic gave you the warm fuzzies like it did when i was writing it. i also wanted to explore some other dynamics this time around instead of solely focusing on peter/gamora as i usually do, so i hope you enjoyed that as well.

some present visuals - this is the book that peter gave gamora (11/10, would recommend, by the way), and groot's gym somewhat looks like this, but if you've ever been to one of those indoor children's play centers you kinda get what i mean. aso, two more songs from peter's mix, "for gamora" - december 1963: oh, what a night by the four seasons, and happy together by the turtles. The song from gamora’s mix, “for peter”, is daydream believer by the monkees. also, rocket's backstory with lylla is partially based on their telltale counterparts, in case any of you were wondering what she looks like.

since this is the last twenty questions fic of the year, i just wanted to say a huge thank you to everyone who has read this fic and any of the others in this series! this 'verse is kind of my baby and i love being able to play around with the different relationships and ongoing storylines. i'm currently working on my other huge au, everybody wants to rule the world, so i won't be writing as much for this one at the moment, but hopefully, i'll have another one-shot in this series for valentine's day!

again, thank you so so so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it as much as i loved writing it. likes and reblogs would be much appreciated, and i'll see you all next time!

[theshipsfirstmate]

Bridgerton Fic: I Never Got Used to Watching Horses Die

Newton dies of old age a few weeks before Christmas in 1822, and Anthony feels Aubrey Hall go strangely still, in a way that he has not for many years.

(future Kathony fam, with a dose of angst bc it’s how my brain works)

A/N: hiiiii I know some of you may be wondering about Hate to Be Lame, and I promise I'm still working on that, but unfortunately this one grabbed a hold of me and wouldn't let go. It's angsty and I'm truly appalled at myself for committing corgi-cide, but I just have a lot of feelings, OK? If that's your jam, I hope you enjoy. If not, I totally get it and I hope to be back to AU fun very soon.

title from “Dead Horses” by The Local Honeys.

I Never Got Used to Watching Horses Die (AO3 - wc: 3821)

Newton dies of old age a few weeks before Christmas in 1822, and Anthony feels Aubrey Hall go strangely still, in a way that he has not for many years.

He feels foolish at first for even thinking it — to compare the losses. But there is something similar in the stillness of mourning, in the agonizing silences that make his palms itch helplessly. There is something about hearing the heartbreaking cries of his second son echo down the hall from the nursery that makes a stone lodge in the pit of his stomach. 

It’s familiar, that is why he loathes it so.

But it’s different this time, too. It is perhaps the first time he’s seen death come in stages, and up close. First, his wife’s beloved beast could no longer hop to his preferred blanket at the foot of their bed. Then, he could no longer play with the boys or climb the stairs. When he stops eating, that is when Anthony feels the inevitable pang, a lance driven deeper into his heart as he watches his children grapple with their grief.

Edmund receives the news and disappears silently to the sitting room, to a favored spot by the window, returning later with red-rimmed eyes and a pout he desperately tries to tame. Miles is too young to understand all of what they tell him, but he quickly realizes from his family’s somber demeanors that there's something worth getting worked up about -- and he’s never been one to spare his tears. Charlotte, mercifully, is still just a baby, but Anthony would swear she could sense it too, with how fussy she’s been of late.

But Kate…

Kate doesn’t cry. 

His wife, his stunning and stalwart viscountess, isn’t the same woman she was when they married -- and Anthony is grateful every day for that. She doesn’t hide herself away anymore, at least not from him. 

Long past their early miscommunications, they’ve taught themselves how to lean on each other through good times and bad, and they’re stronger for it. They’ve also become all too skilled at reading one another’s emotions, usually before they even need to be spoken out loud. Their years together have, mercifully, been almost entirely happy, but still, Anthony has seen Kate break down about everything from a weaning baby to a frostbitten tulip bed to a starving stray kitten -- the last of whom was, of course, immediately provided with luxe accommodations in the Aubrey Hall stables.

This is why he worries so much when she doesn’t cry for Newton. Not when they finally accept that his health is declining, not that first night that the little beast’s family -- all five of them, now -- stand at the top of the staircase, waiting for him, realizing. Not even when she takes him out for one last turn about the gardens, just the two of them, in the frosty early hours of his final morning. Kate carries her furry companion in her arms for most of the way, and when they return, she lays him down to sleep and he never wakes. 

And still she doesn’t cry.

Anthony follows his wife’s lead and attempts to go about his day, though he knows he’s only practicing the motions. But Kate, she doesn’t even seem to flinch. She nurses Charlotte, meets with the cooks, cheers Miles up with some playtime, finalizes the holiday decoration plans, and takes lunch with Edmund in between his lessons. She does what she always does, and maybe everyone else would miss it, but the rock in Anthony’s stomach rolls itself into a boulder when he realizes that the only thing that’s off is that she won’t meet his eyes -- not once, all day.

He follows her up the stairs that night after dinner, Charlotte nestled asleep in his arms, and watches carefully as his wife presses a quick kiss to their daughter’s forehead before stalking away towards their chambers. Anthony looks after her for a moment before turning for the nursery, laying their daughter to rest in her crib. Mercifully, she hardly stirs. So he knows it can’t be more than five minutes before he follows, shrugging off his valet as he enters their bedroom. And he sees her.

“Kate?”

She’s still fully dressed, curled pitifully in the fetal position around Newton’s favorite blanket -- the one at the foot of their bed. And she’s sobbing so hard he worries she might not be able to breathe. 

“Oh, darling.” 

“I can’t… I just can’t believe he’s gone,” Kate gasps between breaths as Anthony quickly makes his way to sit on the bed beside her, rubbing a comforting hand down her back, undoing the buttons to her dress and loosening her stays, trying to provide what little comfort he can. “I thought I had prepared myself and I--”

“Kathani,” he whispers, brushing back her hair and leaning over to press a kiss to her temple, a murmur in her ear. “Sweetheart, it’s all right. You’re allowed to mourn him, of course you are.”

Her shoulders shudder to a slow stop, and she finally takes in a deep breath that seems to relax him more than it does her.

“There was a time when I thought it was going to be just him and I,” she admits after a long moment, so soft it could be a whisper. Anthony’s chest aches, as it always does, at the memory of the lives they could have had, of the people they had been before they had each other.

Even still, there’s a part of him that preens at how willing she is to show this side of herself to him. They’ve built their home on a foundation of love and trust -- he’d die for her in a second, and so he must be grateful for each hardship he’s lived through with her at his side.

“Back then, I thought Newton might be all the love I was ever going to have, and now-” she hiccups, and her tears start again in earnest. “Now I have so much more, but he’s gone, and I…”

“Kate-” Anthony starts with his heart in his throat, not really knowing what he’s going to say -- but he doesn’t even get the chance. His wife’s watery next words hit him solidly in the chest, knocking the breath from his lungs.

“And the boys...” 

Of course, Anthony realizes instantly. Of course that’s what’s pushed her so far.

Newton’s devotion to Kate had carried over immediately, each time they welcomed a new member to their family. But the most extraordinary part -- the part that still makes Anthony’s eyes go misty at the memories -- was how it often felt like the pup knew the children even before they did.

He knew to be gentle with Edmund. Their firstborn was a serious little sir from the moment he entered the world, and Newton approached with caution. His wiggling backside would often betray his excitement, but he somehow understood, instinctively, that the best way to endear himself to the boy was to simply curl up next to him. As Edmund grew, the pair could often be found seated side by side, peering out a window -- more than once Anthony had caught his son with his forehead pressed gently to the dog’s, quietly detailing his thoughts to a most patient listener.

When Miles was born, Newton was guarded at first, following the lead he had with his older brother. But he learned quickly. They all learned quickly with Miles. The first time his second son rolled over onto his stomach, he celebrated by grabbing his tiny hands onto each of the dog’s ears and letting out a joyous squeal. In Miles, the corgi soon found a devoted playmate — or “littermate,” his parents were fond of saying, when their toddler would curl up right alongside the pup on the floor.

And Charlotte… He had been waiting on Charlotte, Anthony realized. Just as they all had. It hadn’t even occurred to him at the time, but he remembered now how the corgi had stayed up all night with him, waiting in his study as Kate labored with their daughter. Even in his old age, Newton didn’t rest until Kate did, until he got a chance to see that she and her newest little one were healthy and safe.

“I am glad that you had him,” Anthony murmurs as he gently, chastely, strips his wife, and then himself, down to their underclothes and crawls into bed beside her. “I am glad that we all did.”

“Oh, you didn’t even like him,” Kate teases, grabbing at his hand when he slings it across his waist, and he’s grateful to hear the tiniest bit of levity in her voice. 

“We didn’t get off to the best start,” he admits with a smile. “But surely you know that I loved him -- if for no other reason than his devotion to you.”

Her sobs have started to soften, but she presses her eyes together and fresh tears still track down her cheeks. “I do. I know.”

Anthony leans up again to press another kiss to her temple, but she turns in his arms to meet his lips with her own, bittersweet and searing. It floods every part of him with heat. It makes him brave enough to ask.

“Kate, what happened today? Why---”

She’d been moving beneath him, but she freezes at the question, hands stilling on his cheek and shoulder. Her eyes drop from his, and Anthony would be lying if he said it didn’t make his blood run icy for the same moment.

“I couldn’t let them see me like this.” she admits quietly, with another tearful gasp. “I knew if I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop, and I didn’t want them to worry.”

This happens sometimes. For as good as they are together, for as much as they’ve healed one another, sometimes the scars of their past, of their duties and their grief and their mistakes, start to itch at them until they feel the need to scratch themselves bloody. Anthony’s quite sure that they’ll never be totally free of it, but it comforts him that the moments have started to come fewer and far between since their wedding, since their children, since this happiness he never thought he’d know again.

Tonight, though, he scolds himself silently. He should have expected this. He should have remembered earlier, when he knew that something was off, when he glanced at the portrait of his late father and thought himself silly.

“Kathani, you are the strongest person I know.” Anthony murmurs, carefully tucking back into her side. “God bless the both of them, but that includes our mamas. You are brave and steady and fiercely protective, and there’s not a single part of me that doubts you, ever.”

“You are so good to our children,” he continues, wrapping himself around her as tightly as he can. “So good to this family.”

The words don’t quite reach her. Anthony can feel it in the tension that’s keeping the muscles of her back taut against him. The wound is too fresh today, the memories returning in brilliant color. He understands how it feels -- if he thinks about it for even a moment, he can still see the bee land next to her lapel in the garden that day.

“You remember how it felt back then, with Mary, when you thought you might not get her back?” He knows she does, even before she nods against him silently. They’ve talked through it so many times before, the isolation they’d shared too young, how it feels to look for your mother and find little more than tears and ashes.

“I’ve never once -- not with everything you’ve been through -- never once worried that you were gone for good,” he assures her  “And neither have our children. You’re too strong for that, my love.”

She takes a deep, shuddering breath before turning fully in his arms to face him again, and he can finally feel her starting to believe him, their hearts so intertwined that his chest warms sympathetically.

“You give us so much of your best,” he adds, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose, “you can let them see a little of your worst.”

She nestles her forehead under his chin and it's finally his turn to breathe deeply with relief. 

“It’s not as if it will stop Edmund from fretting over you, anyway,” he adds, feeling her cheeks curl up just a little against his throat.

“Our little worrier,” she mumbles in agreement. “You know, he gets that from you.”

Anthony decides to leave that debate for another day as their bodies begin to still towards sleep, wrapping himself around his wife and contently pressing his lips at that spot next to her earlobe until they drift off together.

______

The next day is Friday, which means Anthony’s only appointment of the day is with his eldest son. 

Edmund is indeed their little worrier, seemingly seven going on 70, smart and serious in a way that makes his father most proud and also breaks his heart a little. He is a consummate first child just like both of his parents -- sharp and stubborn and dutiful -- and Anthony and Kate love to bicker over who their eldest takes after the most.

More than a year ago, when he learned what his father’s title meant, and how it would one day be his own, young Edmund had dozens of questions about all of the responsibilities that, God willing, he would not have to take on for many years. But naturally, he didn’t find that an acceptable reason not to know everything now, and Kate had rolled her eyes at how easily -- how proudly, to be truthful -- Anthony had decided to cancel his son’s regular Friday lessons in favor of a weekly father-son day, spent learning the (for now, very basic) ropes of the viscountcy.

Sometimes they visit with tenants, or supervise an ongoing project on one of the farms.  Sometimes they go over the accounts, with Edmund working out his own sums on old scraps of paper Anthony saves in a special desk drawer. Kate didn’t like the idea at first, worrying that it felt like pushing their son into his duties far too early. But instead, it’s seemed to have the opposite effect, helping to ease the anxieties all three of them know too well, and giving Anthony and his eldest some treasured extra time together, under the proud gaze of the viscounts that came before them.

Today, however, with the cloud of grief still hovering over Aubrey Hall, the two of them simply take tea in Anthony’s study while he signs some leftover ledgers.

“Amma is still in bed?” his son asks when he’s quietly polished off his scone.

“Yes,” Anthony nods. “She is sad about Newton, but she will be feeling well again soon.”

Edmund nods to match, his father’s mirror image. The boy’s chin is tight with worry, but there is nothing in his expression that betrays his belief in his mother, and the corners of Anthony’s eyelids go a little misty at the sight. He thinks for a moment that perhaps he’s doing something right with this parenting thing, before chuckling privately at the idea that he’s had anything to do with it at all.

For all their playful bickering about his dutiful nature, there’s no question that their eldest has been Kate’s since the moment he was born, when he gave her a gift no one else could.

“My mother’s eyes...” 

Anthony will never forget the awe in his wife’s voice when she took one look at their firstborn -- or how she promptly burst into tears moments after. It’s those same eyes that look at him pleadingly now, and Anthony steels himself. 

“Papa, do you think we might have another dog someday?” This is also a specialty of Edmund’s, processing his thoughts silently, at a superhuman speed, and leaving his family to figure out the road map.

“I would think it highly likely, yes,” Anthony answers, leaving open the benefit of a doubt, even though he knows it’s unnecessary. “I will be surprised if your mother doesn’t insist on it. But not just yet.”

Edmund nods once more, agreeing solemnly. “And Charlotte can know that dog.”

That had been one of their eldest’s chief concerns after they explained to him that Newton didn’t have much time left -- that his baby sister wouldn't remember their beloved dog in the same way that he and Miles did. Anthony remembers how tightly Kate had grabbed for his hand under the dinner table as they realized what he was asking, how his own mind had conjured up an image of Hyacinth as an infant.

He must have nodded again, because Edmund’s questions continue. “And Papa? When she’s older, can I still tell Charlotte about Newton?”

Anthony hopes his son can’t see how his chin wobbles as he grins, silently saying his usual prayer that these will be the only kind of responsibilities that plague the boy for years to come. “You certainly can,” he answers. “That’s something a very good big brother would do.”

His son takes that in, serious as ever, and then melts another bit of his father’s heart when he asks, “I’ll be like you?”

Anthony eyes flash to his own father’s portrait on the wall, and has to clear his throat before he answers. “Far better even than me, my boy.”

Edmund looks up then, those special eyes wide with wonder. He has heard plenty from his aunts and uncles about the kind of brother Anthony is and has always been, despite his father’s humble protests. “How?”

“Well for one, I never had a good dog like Newton to accompany me when I was growing up,” Anthony notes with a smile at his son. “I didn’t even know what I was missing.”

One more serious nod, a quick brush of a traitorous tear, and his boy seems satisfied for now. 

“Come, let’s go check on your mother and siblings.” Anthony’s heart broke a little the first time his eldest son refused to be carried, but he counts his blessings when the boy will still take his hand. They wind their way to the second floor, identical nods tipped at the staff, who keep their own private smiles about Lord Bridgerton and his proper young shadow.

“Kate?” one voice calls as they reach the viscount’s quarters, while the other echoes, “Amma?”

No matter how many times Anthony opens the door to his bedroom to a sight like this, it still makes his breath catch in his throat. Kate, sat up in their bed, nursing baby Charlotte. Miles tucked into her side solemnly, a thumb in his mouth Anthony can’t even bother to admonish him for right now.

Their eyes meet and it’s the most relieved Anthony’s ever been to see that his wife’s been crying. Because behind the shiny gloss of her grief, there’s also something that looks like comfort, relief, a catharsis that feels like she’s miles away from last night, on her way to the peaceful side of mourning. 

“Hello, my loves,” he says softly, adding another count to his blessings.

Edmund crawls up to sit beside Miles, and Anthony and Kate break their gaze only to notice their eldest wrapping a comforting arm around his younger brother -- while also stealthily brushing his thumb from his mouth.

Kate’s eyes widen slightly with bemusement as she turns back to whisper at Anthony. “Yours.”

“Absolutely not,” he protests, choking back a laugh so as not to make too much noise. 

“Papa!” Restless without his pacification, Miles stands on the bed and toddles his way to Anthony, who’s barely able to shrug out of his waistcoat before his second son is wrapping his arms around his neck with a soft whimper.

He’s all emotion, their sensitive soul. His middle name is Benedict, after all -- perhaps they doomed him to it. But there’s not one part of Anthony that minds when his boy buries his curly head underneath his chin and gives him the tightest hug his tiny arms can muster.

“Papa,” Miles repeats when he pulls back, sounding too solemn for his handful of years. “Amma sad.”

“Yes, my darling,” Anthony soothes. “Your Amma is sad about Newton. We all are, but it’s going to be all right.”

Miles nods, pulling his features into a serious frown that Anthony knows is a copycat of his big brother’s. “Amma love Noot.”

“Yes I did, my darling,” Kate agrees softly, and the sound of her voice is enough to make Miles turn back towards his mother, devoted as any Bridgerton man has ever been. Anthony smiles as he takes a seat on the other side of the bed, curling himself around his wife and children and marveling at a world where even the darkest days can feel like this.

“I loved him very much.”

______

The day after next, they say goodbye.

Kate asks three times if he’s certain, but Anthony insists, and a medium-sized stone is moved to a familiar cropping of woods -- not far from the larger monument that has served as his life’s compass. 

“They were both excellent judges of character, after all,” he tells his wife, with a reassuring smile and a comforting hand to her cheek, brushing away another stray tear. “I think they would have liked one another very much.”

They walk out together, the five of them dressed in white and clutching handfuls of flowers -- though most of Charlotte’s scatter to the ground before they reach the site. Anthony watches with tears in his eyes as Edmund presses his forehead to the stone, murmuring a few last words to his faithful friend. After a bit of prompting, Miles toddles towards the marker, planting a sloppy kiss right to it that leaves dirt on his nose. 

“Bye, Noot,” the boy says softly. “I love you.”

Anthony hears Kate whimper softly beside him, and he takes Charlotte from her arms as she steps forward herself, letting her flowers fall to the ground as she says her farewell, speaking softly to her old friend in a language Anthony can partly understand. And when her tears begin to fall, and the emotion takes her to her knees, Anthony’s vision blurs as his sons step forward even before he can, wrapping their arms around their mother and supporting her with the pure comfort only they can provide.

“My darling boys. I love you so,” she murmurs, to them all, and Anthony says his own private prayer of thanks as something long gone returns to his very soul.

He realizes that he was wrong on the walk back home -- his wife’s hand clutched tightly in his own, their children surrounding them, broken hearts held tight enough together to feel whole once more. This isn’t at all like it was before. 

[darpow]

the fireside is blazing bright we're caroling through the night

The temptation to hit up the book store or go to a thrift store and get everyone a history book was strong... but luckily for you guys, I was talked out of it and into something sweeter. Quite a bit sweeter, so I hope you like hot chocolate. If not, you can use the mugs for something else and give the bombs away, I promise that I won’t be mad! These were bought from the market, with the mugs either purchased there or in various shops around town, so everything has been locally sourced (give back, right?), and I hope it adds some warmth and goodness to your holiday season.

@adrianewan @xalecjacobs @chetang @ethannardelli @felixortz @mazhcrndcz @ramseywelcott @saihajvarma @samgarcia @siennabarlowe @sunnynardelli​

adrian -- Because where would I be without my teacher buddy to help me get through the long days of dealing with kids (and parents...) and everything between? I hope that you’re enjoying your holiday break and making the most of the time off. Have an amazing Christmas, bud.

alec -- To my bandmate who I’m glad gave me that chance on the drums -- I hope that you’re not too tired of Christmas music yet, you know, just in case we need to break out some jams at any point in time. Never know when someone at a party is going to want you to croon, right? Merry Christmas!

chetan -- I hope that you appreciate the polar bear mug, since I’m going to be teaching them once I move out of Maine... or get kicked out of Maine, as it is, I don’t remember how it went. Either way, though, may it bring you many warm sips and lots of holiday happiness -- glad to have you as a friend, Merry Christmas, Che.

ethan -- I hope you know how proud I am of you for that song you played for me, and how much I’m going to stay on your ass to keep creating and putting that talent to good use. You’re a good guy, a great guy even, and don’t take guff from anyone. But do have a Merry Christmas, because you and the fam deserve that.

felix -- To another teacher friend who gets me when it comes to needing this holiday break more than we need oxygen. I hope that means you’re enjoying it and taking the time to savor all things Christmas and the winter holiday.

marisa -- I really don’t know why I saw a mug with festive skeletons on it and really just knew that you needed it, but... here we are, and I hope you think of me every time you drink out of it. You’re one of the sweetest, funniest people I know, and I appreciate you never making fun of my love of history, too. Merry Christmas, Maz.

ramsey -- I realize that always busting your ass about the amount of time we do (or do not...) spend in the gym and then giving you something like hot chocolate bombs seems a little counter-productive, but here we are! ... but seriously, let’s make sure that we end up in the gym soon after eating these big Christmas meals, okay? Merry Christmas, Rams.

saihaj -- I’m leaving it totally up to you whether or not you want to share the hot chocolate bombs with your sisters! It might give you some bonus points if you do, but I also know how nice it is to keep something to yourself, especially during the holiday season. I hope that you have an amazing one, and get to be spoiled and also spoil everyone rotten. Merry Christmas.

samantha -- Sure, these aren’t going to make you a giant cup of coffee, but chocolate has sugar in it, and probably some caffeine, too, right? That should count for something. And hopefully put some pep in your step to get you through the holiday. Merry Christmas, Sam.

sienna -- When I saw this mug and how bright and colorful it was, it reminded me of you for some reason. Mostly just because you always brighten up my day. I hope that you are having an amazing holiday season and getting a well-deserved break from providing us with all of the fun and good stuff in life. Merry, merry Christmas!

sunny -- I couldn’t help myself... when I saw the Grinch mug, and I found a set of Grinch-themed hot chocolate bombs, I knew that there was only one person on the planet who would laugh as much as you hopefully will. So they’re yours now, let me know how they turn out, and if you actually end up with green hot chocolate! Merry Christmas, Sunny, I hope it’s a great one!

[spookysmujer]

No Más pt.2, O.Diaz

Summary: Things seem out of place after Oscar asks you to skip town for the weekend. You never listen and you were right not to this time.

warnings: angst, DamselinDistress!Oscar 🤪, cute s h e t, violence

word count: 3.1K

a/n:  Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! THANK YOU FOR 1.3K OF Y’ALL! Here is the long awaited part 2 of No Más which was fun asf to write, hehe. Please don’t forget, follow me if you aren’t, join the fam 💗 heart/comment/ reblog my content as well. And turn on those notifications for when I post new content, love y’all!

(Gif belongs to @merakiaes​ ✨)

“Oscar? Hey, I’m back, Oscar!” You move through the house, looking frantically throughout the rooms. When he doesn’t show up anywhere you’ve looked, you sigh in defeat and you lean against the bathroom door. 

“Dammit!” 

Your ears perk at the sound of his voice coming from the back yard. The shuffling of metal can be heard as you start to make your way towards the shed, you find him with dirty hands and a car part in his hand. You sigh in relief as you’ve been worried about him the whole way home.

He gives you a brief look before putting his attention back to the part in his hand, you step towards him and rub his back despite the thin layer of sweat, “I thought something had happened to you, I was worried and you couldn’t answer your phone.” You are peering up at him as he continues to keep his attention on what’s in front of him.

“Been here all day, mami. You worry too much.” He steps forwards to get under the hood on a project car he’s been working on. You roll your eyes as he’s been working on this car for as long as you can remember. 

“I worry too much? What was I supposed to think with how things had gone down? Excuse me for thinking something happened.” You throw your hands in defeat, Oscar loved to see you get frustrated like this. When you voice your concern for him, it made his heart do a little dancey dance. He glances at you as he sees you rubbing your temples, “Aye.” You open your eyes.

Oscar wipes his hands on a rag and cradles your face, the motor oil smells strong but whenever he gets you to look into his eyes, all else falls away. “I’m good, you’re good, we both good. Mmkay? No one is gonna get me. Everything is handled.”

You nod and settle your hands against his chest as he pulls you in for a kiss, “The Prophet$ are done for.  Now we just worry about our hustle and getting the fuck out of the Ridge.” He steps back to his project and you settle any worries right then and there, sitting on the old, yanked out car seat to keep him company.

But that 4 months ago. 

That’s when Oscar and Cesar had gotten themselves in a little beef with the Prophet$. You were always so worried when he would he leave the house when he wouldn’t tell you where he was off to, or worst when he had some of the Santos keep you on the opposite side of town that one day, when you got home and you couldn’t find him til his cursing for jamming his finger from the shed gave him away. The day the Prophets$ no longer stood a problem for the streets.

Right now you are standing in the middle of his living room, chest tight and burning from running from the bus station. You’re lungs and calves on fire as you stand there waiting for him to emerge from the back side of the house. But to no avail, despite his car being parked in its usual spot. With a trembling lip, “Oscar..?” 

But again, nothing. You have his cross chain tight in your balled up fist. As you head tips forward, you hold in the sounds that threaten to escape you as the tears begin to trickle down your cheeks and onto the floor below you. All those feelings, those nagging feelings that kept bugging you that something wasn’t right. But Oscar kept on reassuring you that everything would be fine. 

And the level-headed you tries to make sense of the situation at hand, to make it rational and that this is no different from any other type of business Oscar had to handle. You make your way to the kitchen to sit at the table to calm your nerves before jumping into action. But the hope lasts just for a moment, you see a note hanging from the refrigerator. 

           “Mano, you will always be one of two reasons I fight everyday to find a way out. Garcias por todo. Take care of Y/N for me.”

In that very moment, you understood those sappy love movies. Those long novels made sense. And if you could explain what it feels like? Ripping fabric down the middle, stitches tearing apart and barely hanging on. It feels very much like that. 

The sound of a people talking catches your attention as you peer out of the kitchen window. You see a few santos, one including Sad Eyes. Before marching out to question them, you snatch the note. They turn at the sound of the door swinging open. The ones who were just about to plop down on the run down couch immediately stand and straighten their stances as if you were the Queen of England or something.

“Y/N, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on a bus out of town?” Sad Eyes towers in front of you, a look in his eye that has him just as bewildered as you are.

You wipe your face, “Where is he? Where did he go? He sent me away, why? Tell me!” You begin to push at him to which he begins to stumble back, he tries to get his footing right but your constant shoving makes it nearly impossible. “Yo, cut the shit! Nothing you need to be concerned about. He said he can handle it which means we don’t ask questions.”

A laugh escapes you. So much so that you double over with your hands resting on your knees. When you straighten yourself upright again, the Santos can see you are laughing as tears are streaming down your face. They look at you like you just escaped the insane asylum.

“What’s this? Tell me everything's okay then.” You hold out the note, the tremble in your hand visible. Sad Eyes keeps his eyes on you as he grabs the note. When he does look at it, you see the very moment he realizes Oscar does not have whatever he says he has handled. A goodbye letter? That’s not something he would do though. It’s better to break amends if you know you aren’t making it out. Why would he do something like this? Sad Eyes stares at the note even though he read it over times.

He doesn’t know what to say. All he can do is sigh deeply and look back to you. And he sees how far you are beginning to slip. Funny, he used to be the one to tell Oscar that your tendency to worry would be the death of you and here you are now, descending in the hole that used to be filled by Oscar. 

You aren’t sure what happened in the next few moments but you are suddenly staring at the ceiling of Oscar’s room. The room is dark and quiet, the light from the street lights barely shining through the curtains. 

“You fainted.”

  Cesar’s voice sounds from across the room, causing you to jump. He gives you a half smile as he stands to make his way over to you. Once he sits besides you, he reaches over to grasp your hand, “Sad Eyes called. I saw the note when I got home from my shift. He told me he had some things to handle with Cuchillos. I told him I could go with him but he said he doesn’t need back-up… it’s my fault. I should’ve gone with him. No one knows where he is. No one has seen him.”

The panic spreads through the younger Diaz like wildfire and you immediately sit upright to pull him into your hold. He unravels quickly in your arms, fearing that he made a grave mistake to not be more adamant on going with Oscar.  “Cesar, stop. None of this is your fault. You did nothing wrong, okay? Hey, look at me,” You pull his face to look at yours, “You did not do anything to harm your brother. And we are going to find him. You hear me? Me and you, we’re gonna look for him.”

“We all are.” Monse stands near the door with Ruby and Jamal behind her. They give you small smiles and you return it back to them, nodding in agreement. You look to Cesar and squeeze his face and take a deep inhale. Where do you even start?

And for the rest of that day, you all were stumped. How do you find someone who left no clues? Who left no trace to where he went? It was useless to try to go to the police, you knew from Cesar that some cops work for Cuchillos. Oscar left his phone and wallet at his place so trying to trace his phone would be moot. The silence started to eat away with you, you tell them you were gonna get some air. 

You walk onto the porch and lean against the railing looking out at Oscar’s shiny red baby. You smile to yourself thinking off all the memories you’ve had with him in his car. The many late night drives when you couldn’t sleep. The drive-inn movie dates. The first time you got to drive his car as well when you nearly took off the bumper parking at Santa Monica pier. All those memories infiltrate your mind, the good ones as well as the bad ones. When he would bring you home early from a party if you two were arguing. Or when you’d sit in the passenger sit, arms crossed, lips sealed as he would be going off on you.

With all those memories replaying in your head, you walk over and run your hand over the hood. If it’s three things Oscar loves is: Family, Food and his impala. That makes you chuckle out loud. How you wish he were here right now, “Where are you, papas?” You whisper to yourself.

Before you walk back to join the others, you spot the scratch mark near the rear tire on the driver side. You try to wipe at it but the scratch is deeper than the paint. You remember instantly Oscar telling you some little traviesos had swiped his car with their bikes when he went to meet Cuchillos that night. 

And when you push the first domino, the rest fall with it. 

You remember he didn’t tell you much about that night he was supposed to grill but had to last minute meet with the boss lady. He did mention the scratch though. He said that’s what he gets for stopping by Saul’s Place, a little taco restaurant, right after his inconspicuous meeting. You remember he took you once. And you also remember that very time he took you, he needed to handle something briefly in the area and told you he’d meet you at Saul’s place. 

Cuchillos has lots of territory and with that territory comes lots of hiding spots for little meetings such as the one she had with Oscar that night and the others. Which has to mean that Saul’s Place has to be near wherever they met and could possibly be now. And if I were Cuchillos, I would make it so that I meet specific people in specific places. You pull out your lanyard from your back pocket, unlocking his car with the spare key he gave to you. 

The teens in the house are alerted when they hear the impala roar to life. They exit the house in time to see you take off away from the house. Cesar tries to call out for you but it’s no use, you’re gone in the blink of an eye. He stands in the middle of the street, feeling defeated. 

The shaky breath you’ve been holding is finally exhaled as you make the drive to Saul’s. And when you do reach, you open the maps app on your phone. Searching the screen for nearby areas. You zoom in, zoom out, slide it left and right and there are no obvious answers. You lock your phone and slam your head back, you gaze out of the window and from the distance see an abandoned warehouse. 

“Plain sight. Ordinary. A perfect spot.” You say to yourself out loud.  And then you see the spec of black shine. An SUV. That’s gotta be it. You reach over to the glove compartment and nearly cry out with rejoice when you see the 9mm still rests on the registration papers. Quickly checking the chamber to see if it is loaded, which it is, you exit the car and make your way across the street. 

What am I gonna do? Walk there and threaten someone like Cuchillos and her guys? The anxiety in you begins to speak, halting your trek. You shake it though, despite how loud it becomes. The sound of gravel crunching causes you to move quickly behind a nearby bush. 

Two men are walking the grounds, quickly appearing in front of the entrance visible to you and then disappearing around the side of the warehouse soon after. You take the opportunity to get in before they double back. When you get in, rays of the sun are poking through the rusted metal. The quiet is eerie but it’s quickly overcome with distant noises. 

“You don’t come through when I need you to and that is the reason you are here. Do you understand that?” A female voice sounds and it could only belong to the elusive Cuchillos. “Go, I want to do this alone. He can barely move. I won’t be long.” 

Shuffling of feet can be heard approaching you which causes you to quickly stumble back into the shadows, you hold your breath as people pass you by and you going unnoticed. You take a look and see that a few men exit the same way you entered. Cuchillos is talking again so you follow her voice until it gets loud enough to be directly next to you. 

You finally see them. Oscar is chained with his arms above him, body beat and bruised. An eyebrow split open and running blood down his face,  an eye swollen shut. He looks awful and the sight clenches your heart. At the moment, you see Cuchillos with a gun to his head. It takes all your restraint you have to not lunge out in the moment but it would just end badly for the both of you. 

The 9mm resting in the band of your pants behind you. You reach for it and pull out the silencer barrel, twisting it on as you slowly move towards them. Your heart is racing, your breathing harsh as you step quietly closer.

“Truly sad. So much good potential. At least this way, your hermano can rise up in the ranks. Hopefully he’ll do much better than his big brother and waste of a father, 3rd time a charm, right? I’d ask you if you have any last words but I don’t care.” She clocks the gun as he looks at her dead in the eyes, ready to accept his fate. 

But she sees it. She sees Oscars eyes move slightly when he spots you. Cuchillos swivels on her heels and faces you. Her hands move to point the gun at you but if it’s one thing Oscar had taught you is that when there is an enemy approaching behind you, to move your weapon toward them first before turning your attention and/or body. There will always be a second delay if you turn your body first. And in this moment, you see what he means. Because you were quicker. 

You fire a shot at her thigh causing her to shriek and fall. She turns over to grab her handgun but you kick it away and shoot her hand, another screech escapes her. She clutches her hand to her chest, rolling on her back. Her face shows disgust. You squat and cock your head, a sinister smile appearing on your face, “3rd times a charm, right?” An empty shell falls after shooting another round, this time between her eyes.

A giant weight is released off of your chest as her lifeless body lays there. You grab her gun and shove it in your waistband as you look at Oscar, who has a look of relief plastered over his bloody face.  You hold the gun to the chains and shoot, they break and he falls. Quickly rushing over to him, you cradle his face, “Oscar? Hey, look at me. You’re alright, just get up. We gotta move out of here, her guys are gonna be piling in any minute.”

He only groans as you try to help him stand, he weighs a ton. But he manages to stand and lean on you, you hold the gun on your free hand and walk towards the exit, the sound of someone approaching causes you to panic. But Oscar jumps into action mode, pulling the gun from your waist band and into a stance for the advancing party. The both of you in position.

“Hey!” 

“Yo!” 

Oscar curses under his breath as Cesar appears with Sad Eyes close behind. You nearly throw up from the amount of panic that had just built up. Oscar relaxes his body as you plant yourself into his side. 

“Jesus H, when did you two become Mr. and Mrs. Smith?” Cesar’s comment even manages to get a laugh out of Oscar. The older Diaz steps forward and pulls his mano into a bear hug. Cesar immediately hugs him back. Definitely a sight for sore eyes. The four you look back to see the darkness finally defeated. 

The drive home was quiet. But even then you would take the quiet over anything else. Oscar rests his hand on your thigh as you pull into the driveway of the Diaz household. You help him in the house and to the bathroom to get all cleaned and bandaged up. 

“Hey, te quiero mucho.” Oscar whispers to you as you finish wiping off any dried blood from his forehead. “It’s done. No more. All of it. And within the next couple of weeks, we’ll be out of here. Living in some suburban ass neighborhood where curfew is 9PM.”

You laugh while he smiles, pulling you into his arms. You rest your head against his chest as he kisses the top of your head. But truly it didn’t matter. Whether you were fated to spend the rest of your days here in unpredictable Freeridge or in a gated community with a weekly neighborhood watch meeting on Thursdays. Home is him. Whenever he may choose to go, you follow. From this moment til beyond.

taglist: @clemmingstylins0n @fairygardenss@princesstiffxoxo@firebenderwolf @spookysnena @mbaku-babygirl @chellybear98@multiyfandomgirl40 @i-just-wanna-live-gc@roury66 @kkim120 @lillict @tinylumpiaa @prettymya3@starrynite7114 @onmyspookysblock @aneitii @b3mybunnybaby  @angelxfics  @spookysbabymama @ladylj @vayagrxce @irenne-stans (please let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Fifteen

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

(This part is loooong fam, but I promise it delivers. Fluff and smut.)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen

Masterpost

You told all your friends about your upcoming weekend with Harry. Niall was just as excited for you. You didn’t bother telling your mom, and you certainly haven’t told your siblings. You still hadn’t updated your Facebook status. You found yourself using social media less and less the more you hung out with Harry.

You didn’t want to pack too much, but you also wanted to have enough options with you depending on the weather, Harry had been really busy these last couple of weeks. Everyone was trying to get in Fall photoshoots while the leaves were changing. You decide to pull out your small carry-on bag with wheels.

One night after work you went to a lingerie store to pick out something cute to wear. You found a silk, short night gown. It was blush pink with black lace over  where your breasts would sit. You pack that first. You pull out some black booties and a couple different pairs of skinny jeans. You decide on a pair of leggings for the drive, you’d be going up Friday afternoon.

Next you had to tackle your toiletries. You had a bag for makeup, a bag for facial wash and moisturizer, and your travel body wash. Once you were satisfied with everything, you left it all near your door, so you could grab everything easily.

You leave work around 3PM to get back to your apartment to change. Niall wished you safe travels. You weren’t sure what was going to happen this weekend. You still weren’t ready to have sex with Harry, but you felt like you needed to give him more. You knew he wanted to use his hands more by the way he would grab at you. Would it be so bad if he fingered you? Your therapy has been helping a lot. Dr. Mara has helped put you back at ease. Jake can’t hurt you ever again. This was Harry, your Harry, who treats you like an absolute princess.

While you’re changing into your leggings, you hear the rustling of your door. Harry walks in with a beanie on. You trot over to him, and wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses you and smiles.

“I’m so excited Harry.” You squeak.

“Me too, I feel terrible I’ve been so busy.”

“It’s okay, it’s nice that you get so much extra work.”

He grabs your bags and brings them down to his car. It would be a little over a two hour drive up to New Hampshire. He let you pick the music. You put an RnB playlist on from 2014. You told him these were some of your favorite songs your sophomore year of college. Once in a while one of you would shout that you loved a certain song, or that you forgot it existed. Eventually you switched to some other playlists you had. You made a playlist with a bunch of songs you would listen to with your mom on long car drives. It had a mix on Bon Jovi, Journey, Barry Manalow, Gary Pucket, Eddie Money, and the Righteous Brothers. Harry was surprised you liked any of that type of music.

“How do you know all of these songs?”

“Well, my mom used to take us on a bunch of road trips and long car rides. She had these two huge CD cases in the car. She would let us pick which ones we wanted to listen to, and she would turn the volume like all the way up. We would just jam out and sing at the top of our lungs.” Shakin’ by Eddie Money comes on next. “Shit, I love this song, mind if I turn it up?”

“Go for it.”

You turn it up, and start singing along. Harry has never heard you really sing before. You didn’t have the greatest voice in the world, but you still sounded good. You could sing on key and in tune. You had sung this song enough times to know how to sing it right. Harry smiled while you sang, stealing glances when he could.

You made pretty good time to the inn. Harry only lets you carry in one of the small bags, while he carried the rest. He goes up to the check in counter, and you take the two room keys. You’re up on the second floor. As you walk in you’re in awe of how beautiful the room is. You put your bag on the floor and flop onto the bed. Harry laughs, but follows your lead.

“This bed is sooo comfy.” You sigh. “What time is it babe?”

“Just about six. We could just order room service tonight so we can relax. Go check out the bathroom, there’s a little surprise.”

You get up, and go into the large en suite. There’s a giant Jacuzzi tub that is begging to be filled. You walk back out to Harry who has a cunning grin on his face.

“Good thing I brought a bathing suit.” You wink at him.

“You don’t need a bathing suit to wear in a tub.” He wraps his arms around your waist.

“I brought a cute bathing suit, I intend to wear it.”

You unpack a bunch of your things while Harry orders room service. Twenty minutes later, a bottle of wine, two salads, and a side of fries are delivered to your room. The food is delicious, and the wine is perfect for an after dinner treat.

“Alright, let’s see that bathing suit.” Harry says while you pull your hair up into a messy bun.

“Let’s see yours.” You raise an eyebrow at him.

You go into the bathroom and change into a blue string bikini. It had a cheeky bottom, and the top just covered your breasts enough. You rarely wore it, but knew it would drive him wild. You turn the bath on to fill it up, and open the door to peak out. Your eyes grow wide when you see Harry wearing a pair of short yellow bottoms. You cough to get his attention, he whips around to look at you.

“Holy shit.”

“Told you it was cute.” You say, sauntering towards him.

“Do you wear this a lot?”

“God no, it’s way too revealing, this is a special bathing suit.” You look down at his shorts. “Yours is very cute.” He scoffs at you.

“C’mon, let’s not let those jets go to waste.” You grab the wine and your glasses.

You both get in and sigh immediately. The jets feel incredible. At first you’re sitting across from him, sipping on your wine.

“I’m so glad we did this, a perfect way to spend a long weekend.” You say.

“Yeah, it’s nice to get away once in a while. If you could go on any holiday what would it be?”

“Well, I usually go to Florida to visit with my Nannie. She has a house on the west coast, in this little community. There’s a pool and a rec center. Sometimes I’ll go with her to her jazzercise class, it’s a lot of fun. Honestly, it’s my happy place.”

“You’re really close with her, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” You want to change the subject. You’re not ready to dive in about your relationship with your grandparents, in fear you may cry. “But I suppose for like a real vacation, I love getting to go to Aruba. I’ve been twice. Oh! I went to Israel my senior year of college for a birthright trip, I’m desperate to go back there.”

“Wow, Israel, that’s incredible.”

“My sister and I went with a group, it was amazing. Honestly, my ideal vacation is just somewhere warm. I love going to the beach and getting to be lazy. I’m not into like the backpacking across a bunch of different countries thing. I bet you’ve been all over Europe.”

“Sort of. We lived hours outside of London growing up, and I never went until I was like sixteen. We didn’t have a lot of money, and going there was something the like rich kids did on the weekends. I like going to the beach too.”

“You definitely tan well, you were practically golden when you came back from New Mexico.”

“How nice of you to notice.” He takes a sip of his wine. “You’re too far away, c’mere.” You giggle and go over to him, straddling his legs so you can sit in his lap. “Much better.” You press your chest against his so he can feel you.

“So, what did you go to Aruba for?”

“Hm?”

“You mentioned you’ve been there a couple times? Was it a cruise or something?”

“Oh, no…my grandparents have a time share there. I got to go the first time as a sweet sixteen type thing. It was the most relaxing trip, but I’m always relaxed with them. The second time I went was last April with my mom and Nannie. It was the first time she had been back since I went.”

“Why’s that?” Your eyes droop, your lips form into a frown. “Sorry, I’m being nosey.”

“No, it’s okay. Um, it’s just hard to talk about is all.” You sigh. “Not something I want to dive into this weekend.”

“Alright…sorry again.” He smiles at you.

You run your wet hands through his hair while he presses his hands into your lower back. You lean down and brush your lips against his.

“You’re so handsome.” You scrunch his hair in your hands. “And your hair is always so soft.” You feel the wine hitting you more now. You lean down and kiss him, him happily taking your bottom lip into his mouth to suck and bite on. “Harry?”

“Mm?” He says, working his mouth to your jaw to plant kisses on.

“I really wanna cuddle tonight, can we do that? Just hold each other?” He looks up at you with his green eyes. His pupils are dilated.

“Of course, love. We can do whatever ya want.” You sigh happily, and set yourself so your back is to his chest.

The two of you continue to talk, and share travel stories. You learned that Harry loved when he could go to Jamaica, and he had spent one of his winter breaks in Japan all by himself. You told him more about your week in Israel, and how you’ve always wanted to go to Greece. When the water started to cool, and you both started to get pruney, you decided it was time to get out of the tub.

Harry changed into a pair of grey sweatpants, while you rummaged in your suitcase. You only brought the sexy nightgown for bed. You wanted to wait until tomorrow night to show it to him.

“Um, Harry?”

“Yeah babe?”

“Could I borrow a t-shirt for bed?” He smirks and hands you the one he had on earlier.

“Hope you don’t mind it bein’ used.”

“Not at all.” It smelled just like him, how could you mind? You wiggle on a pair of cotton panties, and climb onto the bed with him. “Why are hotel beds always so comfy?”

“I think it’s a scheme to make people come back.” He says with a half smile, and a yawn. He must be tired from the long drive. “I’m gonna turn the light off.”

“Sounds good.”

You turn over, pull is arm with you, and he wraps it around you. He nuzzles into your hair and lets out a sigh. You wiggle your butt to adjust to his shape while his legs tangle up with yours. You felt small yet safe in his arms. His body was so much bigger than yours, but it didn’t over power you. He was always so gentle and caring. You hear his light snores in your ear, and it makes you smile. He was just as comfortable with you as you were with him.

The next morning, your eyes flutter open, almost forgetting where you slept. You were laying on your back with Harry’s head nestled into your shoulder. You detach yourself from him so you can go have a shower. You needed to wash your hair today. You grab your toiletry bag, and head into the giant shower that had a waterfall head.

Harry woke up to the sound of your blow dryer, confused that you weren’t still in the bed with him. He felt sweaty, having fallen asleep in his sweatpants. He gets out of bed, and pears through the crack in the door, lightly opening it further. Your towel is wrapped securely around you, and your head is flipped over so you can properly dry the back of your hair. You flip it back over, and for a second Harry sees you in slow motion, like a movie star or something. You don’t notice him in the doorway. Your eyebrows are furrowed as you use your brush to smooth out your hair. Running your hands through, you’re satisfied with how dry you were able to get, and you turn the dryer off. You jump when you see him.

“Jesus, you scared me.” You giggle.

“Sorry ‘bout that, you just looked cute doin’ your hair.” He walks into the bathroom, and kisses you on your cheek. He grabs his tooth brush and brushes his teeth. “Was thinkin’ today before we head to the spa we could walk the property. Get some shots of the trees.”

“That would be great! What time is our appointment?”

“Not til this afternoon, plenty of time.”

You grab a pair of light washed skinny jeans that have a few rips in them, and put them on. Next you decide on a light green sweater. You plug your curling iron in, and put some makeup on while you wait for it to heat up.

“How come you’re doin’ all that?” Harry asks, sliding his black jeans up his legs.

“Well, if you’re gonna take pictures I wanna look nice, just in case I happen to be in one.” You smile at him, beginning to add curls to your ends. “Besides, you’re getting an insider look at my morning routine. Usually you’re dead asleep while I’m doing this.”

“Very true.” Harry puts on a black sweater and his beanie. He slings his camera over his torso.

“Okay, all done.” You slip on your booties, and take his hand. “I heard this place has really good breakfast.”

You settle on a waffle and some eggs for breakfast. Harry had some oatmeal with fruit in it. You both enjoyed a nice cup of coffee before heading outside. The inn sat on fifteen acres of land. Not the biggest, but not the smallest either. There were a ton of trails and paths marked out for people to walk on. The foliage was at its peak, Harry watched you gaze at the different colors on the trees that surrounded you. You hear him snap a photo.

“Harry.” You look at him rolling your eyes.

“You said you wanted your picture taken.” He laughed. “And a candid one is way better than some staged photo.” He gestures for you to look. “See, look at how beautiful you are.” You blush and kiss him on the cheek.

He continues to snap photos of the trees and leaves on your walk. You use your phone to take pictures as well. You take a couple of him while he took pictures of other things. You attempted to take a selfie, but he just took a photo of you instead with his camera.

“I want to be able to post these later.”

“You’ll be able to. I brought my computer so I can load the SD card right in.”

“Lemme take some pictures with your camera.” He takes it off himself and hands it to you. You fidget with some of the controls until everything’s set how you like it. “Go stand over there, the lighting is perfect.” He does as you say. He sticks his hands in his pockets and looks right into the lens. “Jesus, Harry, you look like a model.” You snap a picture. “Now, could you smile for me?” He laughs while his cheeks go red at both of your statements. You snap one while he laughs.

“There’s a timer on that, I could prop it up so we can take a picture together.” He says walking back over to you.

“Or we could take a selfie.”

“But then we won’t get the full effect of the background.” Another couple walks by and sees you two struggle to figure out your photo.

“Would you two like a picture?” The woman asks.

“That would be great.” You go to hand her your phone, but Harry hands her his.

“Mine has a bit of a better camera, love.”

“True.”

You both stand together between two large trees. He hooks an arm around you, and you snake one of your around his back. Your other hand is pressed to his chest. You both smile.

“Okay, ready?” The woman asks. You see her tap the phone a couple of times, and she moves around to get a couple different angles. You both start laughing, which makes for even better pictures. “Alright, that should give you enough variety.” She hands Harry back his phone.

“Thank you so much!” You say as the woman and the man she’s with walk away. “Don’t put that in your pocket, I wanna see how they came out.” Harry rolls his eyes playfully and hands you his phone. “Oh! These are so cute, she did a great job. Oo, I like this one of us laughing. That is going on insta for sure.”

“Insta?” He mimics your accent. You realize now how young you must sound when you say stuff like that.

“Yes, insta. That alright with you?”

“Sure, show me off all you want.” He winks at you.

Between the two of you, you must have taken well over a hundred pictures, but the trails were just too beautiful. You were in awe of Harry, basically watching the master at work. You both go up to your room to change into comfier clothes before your massage date.

“Oh my god!” You say looking at your phone with a big smile. Harry comes out of the bathroom and rushes over to you.

“What?!”

“Sorry, just, Sarah and Niall changed their Facebook statuses!” You practically shove your phone in his face. “That is so exciting!” You love the status and say congratulations with a heart emoji. You realize then that you still hadn’t changed your status. “Maybe tomorrow when I post some pictures I’ll finally change mine. That’ll give people some context of who I’m with.” You smile at him.

“Sure.” He shrugs his shoulders. You had to think back to the date of which he actually asked you to be his girlfriend. It was either the middle or end of September.

“Are you okay with that? I don’t have to post anything to Facebook.”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine. I thought you already changed your status is all, like over a month ago.”

“I haven’t really been on Facebook, or any social media for a while. It just slipped my mind.”

“Oh.”

“That came out wrong. What I meant was-“

“This is exactly why I got off Facebook in the first place. All these little societal rules make things so complicated. I know you’re my girlfriend, but for some reason, I need like everyone to know.” He groans. “I don’t want anyone to think you’re available, (y/n). I could reactivate my account so you could tag me in the post.”

“Harry, you don’t have to do that.” He was sensitive, he tried to hold it back as best he could, but he was your sensitive boy, and his feelings were clearly hurt.

“When we get back from the massage, we can look at all the pictures, and you can pick which ones you want to post, then I’ll airdrop them to you, and I’ll reactivate my account.”

“Why did you deactivate it in the first place?”

“I just thought it was unprofessional, but to be fair I used to post a lot of stupid shit on there. Besides, it could help me grow my freelancing more.” He sighs. “I just don’t want anyone to think they can have you, and I know how possessive that sounds, but it’s how I feel.” You put a hand on his cheek and he leans into it.

“It’s not possessive, I get it. I’m all yours, Harry. No one else’s.” He kisses you tenderly, just for a moment.

“We better get down to the spa. Our massages our first, then our nails.” You perk up.

“I thought we were just getting the massages.”

“I thought this would be a nice treat, it was all part of a package.”

A woman who works at the spa gives you each a robe and some sandals. You’re called into the couple’s room where two women are waiting for you. You told Harry to request that women give the massages because you didn’t like the idea of a man touching you that way that wasn’t him. They give you a moment to disrobe and get onto the massage tables. The music is relaxing and the room smelled like lavender. The second you feel the hot oil hit your body, your muscles immediately relax. It had been ages since you had done so much self-care like this.

The woman kneads into you, and you feel every knot in your back come undone. You just about fall asleep on the comfy bed until you feel hot rocks placed along your spine. They feel incredible, and you can’t help but smile at the fact that Harry asked for this specifically. After a few minutes of that, you’re told to flip onto your back. The woman places a clip in your hair so she doesn’t get it oily while she rubs your neck and shoulders. You feel like you could melt into the table, and only hope that Harry is feeling the same.

The hour is up before you know it. You’re told to both take your time, and to come out when you feel ready. You rub your eyes, and take the clip out of your hair while you slowly sit up. Your eyes grow wide when you look over at Harry. His chest is shiny with oil, he looks over at you and you blush.

“How ya feelin’, love?”

“Mm, really good.” He hands you your robe. You feel wobbly when you get up, and use him for balance.

You both walk out, and are lead to where your pedicures are. Your feet sink into the warm bubbly water, feeling relaxed once again. You pick out a really dark blue for your toes, and tell the woman you’ll decide on your manicure later. Harry picks out a peach color for his toes, and it makes you smile. He holds your hand during the pedicure, rubbing his thumb on you once in a while. You lean your head back and close your eyes. You feel yourself drifting off when he nudges you.

“Babe, time for the manicure.” You yawn and stretch.

“Alright.”

You both walk over to the seats at the manicure tables. You decide on two different colors. You always like the way white nails look, and you decide on the dark blue as well. You take a page out of Harry’s book, and ask to have the colors painted on every other nail. Harry goes for the same peach that’s on his toes and black. He asks to just have his thumbs and forefingers painted black, and the rest peach.

You’re very happy with how your nails came out, and you see that Harry is too. You both go to change back into your clothes, and return the robes and sandals. Harry gives you a piggyback ride back up to your room as you feel too tired to walk. He rests you gently on the bed.

“What time is it?”

“Only four.” He coos, lying next to you.

“Quick nap before dinner? I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“Sure, I’ll set an alarm to wake us in like forty-five minutes.”

“Perfect.”

You fall asleep only a second after. You find yourself dreaming about a forest. You can hear every crunch of every leaf you step on. You walk up to a tent and go inside. You see a beautiful bed only with white blankets and pillows with rose petals all over it. You look in a mirror and find yourself to only be wear a t-shirt, Harry’s t-shirt. He appears suddenly, taking your hand in his. His other hand slips into your panties. You don’t say anything you simply watch as his fingers rub against you. Your chest rises and falls quickly from his touch. Just as he’s about to curl a finger up inside you, you’re jolted awake. The dream fading away.

Harry had woken up about twenty minutes into the nap. He took the opportunity to have some alone time in the bathroom. He chuckled at himself when he saw that you had left a little bottle of pooperie near the toilet. He laid back down next you when he was done, and noticed your face was scrunched up, and your mouth was parted. You were breathing quickly and beads of sweat were starting to form at your brow line. Usually, you slept pretty peacefully. When you started grunting, he figured you were having a bad dream or something, so he shook your shoulder.

Your eyes burst open as you try to catch your breath, you look at Harry who has a concerned look on his face.

“Alright, love?”

“Um, yeah, why?”

“Looked like you were havin’ a bad dream. You were breathin’ heavy and makin’ all this noise.” Your face flushed. You couldn’t tell him you were basically having a sex dream about him. Actually, it’s something he probably would like to hear, but you’re far too embarrassed.

“Oh.”

“What were you dreamin’ about?”

“I, um, can’t remember.” You sit up and run your hands through your hair. “I’m starving.”

“Probably because we forgot to eat lunch.”

“Well, let’s get ready for dinner then.” You smile. You go to the dress you hung up last night, and take it into the bathroom with you.

Harry puts on some khakis and a dress shirt while you slip on your little black dress. He beams at you when you walk out.

“You wore that on our first date.” He gets up and wraps his arms around your waist.

“You remember?” You giggle, knowing he would.

“Course, how could I forget how good you looked?” He gives your bum a little tap. “Let’s head down.” He walks in front of you, and you can’t help but notice how great his butt looks in those khakis. You walk by him quickly, giving him a little pinch, and get into the hallway before he can do anything. “Oi, there’ll be none of that before dinner.”

“Oh, so after dinner I can pinch your butt as much as I want? Good to know.” You wink at him.

The restaurant attached to the inn is breathtaking, you were both thankful you brought nice clothes to wear. Harry pulled your chair out for you like he always did, once you were brought to a table. You each ordered a cocktail, you a vodka-tonic, and him a gin and tonic. Bread was brought over, and you practically attacked it the second you could.

“What do you think you’re gonna get?” He asks you, furrowing his brows at the menu.

“Hmm, I’m not sure yet.” You had a big night planned for him, and you didn’t want to risk anything upsetting your stomach. “Maybe this pasta dish?” You point to it and show him. “Looks like you can get it with black bean noodles if you want.”

“Oh, that looks good, maybe I’ll get that too.”

You each order once the waitress comes back. Midway through the meal, she brings you more drinks, which was perfect because you were starting to feel nervous.

“Love, how ‘bout a dessert tonight?” It was something you rarely did, but since he offered you didn’t want to decline.

“See something you like?” You ask innocently. He gives you a sultry look, and you cough to shake it off. “Oh, look they have a plate of assorted fruits with chocolate drizzled on it.” Normally you would just pig out and get a sundae or a brownie with ice cream, but you figured the dairy would bother you.

“That sounds perfect.” The waitress bring the dessert over quickly, and Harry tells her to just charge the meal to the room. You roll your eyes full well knowing he’s not going to let you pay for anything. “Mm, good choice. Although, I wish I could feed this to you like that other time.” You blush. It’s sweet that he’s been bringing up such nice memories.

You’re absolutely stuffed, you both are. You don’t want to dive into anything with him yet.

“Harry, can we look at the pictures?”

“Sure!” He grabs his laptop once you’re back in your room. You both sit on the small loveseat.

“These are incredible, god you’re so good.” He smiles at you and you press your nose to his for second.

“Lemme see the ones you took on your phone.” You show him a couple. “You have quite the eye yourself. Here, let me airdrop the ones you like to you so you can post them or do whatever you like with them.” You see him open his browser to Facebook.

“Harry, it’s really okay…”

“I want to, plus like I said, it could help with the freelancing.” You watch him log in, your jaw nearly hitting the floor.

“Holy shit, your hair was so long!” He smirks at you.

“Yeah, I grew it out for nearly two years. You like it?”

“Not a lot of people can pull that off, but it suits you. Although, I won’t lie, I love the length you have it at now.” You run a hand through it.

“Me too. Doesn’t get in my way as much when I’m out shootin’. Could ya send me the one you took of me takin’ a picture, I think I’d like to make that my profile picture.” Your heart could burst. You text it to him quick, and he opens his iMessages so you can save it. Before he reactivates it, he goes through his friends list and deletes a whole mess of people. He updates a bunch of his information, and adds a link to his professional Instagram. “There, all cleaned up.” He reactivates the account and sends you a request. You accept immediately.

You create a new album to put all of the wonderful pictures into, and tag him in the ones he’s in. Then you go to change your Facebook status.

“This profile picture is so cute, where were you?”

“Oh! Yikes, I should really change that. It was from my birthday party over the summer. Would it be cheesy to change it to this one of us?” You point to the picture of the one the woman took for you. “The one of us smiling, not the one laughing.”

“I don’t think it’s cheesy at all.”

You change your picture, and then, finally, go to change your status. You back track the date to read September, making him smile. You request him in the post, and he accepts, thus updating both of your statuses. Between adding the pictures, changing your profile picture, and updating your status, you get an influx of notifications. Both Sarah and Rachel leave comments, and you see a liked notification from Kate. Niall leaves a comment as well, just a wink emoji, but it makes you smile. A bunch of people like and comment on your profile picture.

“Sarah and Rachel both just friend requested me.” He looks at you.

“Is that weird for you?”

“Guess not.” He accepts both.

“Shit.” Your siblings liked your status.

“What?”

“My siblings are liking and now commenting, wonderful.” You roll your eyes.

“What’s wrong with them knowin’?”

“Nothing. They just always find a way to treat me like a baby.”

“Well, isn’t that their job as older siblings?”

“Does Gemma ever leave embarrassing comments about having changed your diapers? I had to block my oldest sister from like half of my posts. She’s the reason my insta is private.”

“You got me there, Gem was too close in age with me to help out with diapers.”

“Okay, I am putting this thing on do not disturb before one of them calls me.” You get up and put your phone on the side table next to the bed. You’re feeling less bloated, and very close to him. You grab your bag and go into the bathroom. “Just gonna change into something more comfortable.”

Harry untucks his dress shirt from his khakis. He scrolls through the countless comments on his own Facebook. Many friends happy to see his return to the online world. He had wanted to unzip your dress for you, and watch it fall to your feet, to see what underwear set you might have worn. He didn’t want to push you though. You were having such a nice weekend together.

You take out the nightgown and stare at it. It really was cute with the black lace over the blush pink, and you knew it would hug you tight where you wanted it to. You slip out of your dress, and go into your bag for a black lace pair of cheeky panties. You wanted to be as fresh as possible. You slip the short gown over your head, and adjust your breasts in the lace cups. You could just faintly make out your piercings that you knew he loved so much. It was a little tight around your butt and thighs, but that was the look you were going for. You open the bathroom door as quietly as you can so he won’t notice you. You creep up behind him, and cover his eyes with your hands. He smirks and closes his laptop, setting it on the coffee table.

“What are you doin’?”

“Nothing, just have a little something for you. Can you stand up without opening your eyes for me?”

“Mhm.” He stands up, and lets you guide him to you so he’s facing you. “Can I open now?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck.” He whispers as his eyes pop out of his head. “I mean, wow, no fuck, you look fucking amazing.”

“Really? You like it?” He walks around you to get a good look, and comes back face to face.

“I love it. You got this for me?”

“Mhm.” You nod your head. He moves to touch you, but you back away. His face falls slightly. “I’m still not ready for, well, you know. But, I think I’m ready for these.” You take his hands in yours and kiss his fingers.

Harry is sweating. You look amazing, he can’t figure out where to look afraid he’ll miss even a second of your beauty. What he really wants to do is stick his fingers into your mouth for you to suck on, but he’s not about to scare you off. Instead, he leans in to kiss you. Your drop his hands and put yours right through his hair. His hands travel down to your hips, and his fingers press into you harshly. They travel down to the backs of your thighs so he can pick you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, and he carries you over to the bed. He stands between your legs while you unbutton his shirt. He undoes his buckle and lets his pants drop to the floor. He nearly rips the t-shirt he was wearing off. He takes your face in his hands and sticks his tongue in your mouth. You suck on it and taste the mint from the gum he had chewed after dinner.

You skootch back on the bed, bringing him with you. You feel your head hit the pillow, and his hands go to your breasts while he straddles you. You let out a small moan when his mouth travels to your neck and down to your chest. He takes the piercing in your right breast through his teeth, careful not to tangle it in the lace. He bites down on your nipple, causing you to arch up into him. He looks down at you.

“What is it?” You say, almost in a whisper.

“I can’t decide if I want to leave this on or off. You look so fuckin’ sexy, but I wanna be able to see your body at the same time.”

“Here.” You lift your back a bit, and slide the straps down, bringing your arms through, you tug the top down just a bit, letting your breasts go free. “Meet ya in the middle.” He gazes down at your large breasts, and dips his head back down.

Harry takes as much of your left breast as he can into his mouth. Licking circles around your hard nipple. He sucks on you while kneading its twin. You put an arm over your mouth to help stifle your moans, you were in a hotel after all. He pushes the bottom of your gown up to your hips, revealing your lace panties, leaving a smirk on his face.

“These new too?”

“Maybe.” You take a deep breath, and spread your legs apart for him, only a little. He scoots down a bit to get between your legs.

“(y/n), if at any moment it gets too intense, please tell me to stop. I don’t want you doing something just because you know I want it.”

“I will, Harry. Don’t worry, I want this too.” You say, leaning up on your elbows so you can look at him properly.

Harry starts by pushing your legs a letting farther apart. Next, he brings his thumb to your clit, and rubs you slowly through the lace material. You know you’re already wet, that’s a given any time he sucks on your breasts. He dips his lips down to your right thigh, kissing you closer and closer to your center. He brings his mouth to where you’re dripping, and kisses you through the material while still rubbing you with his thumb. You let out a small groan at his teasing. He stops kissing you, and slides his thumb slowly down to where his lips just were, pressing lightly into your warmth.

“Is this okay, baby?” You nod your head yes. You can feel sweat forming on your forehead. “I need you to use your words.”

“Yes, yes it’s okay.” You muster out.

“I’m going to take these off now, alright?”

“Alright.”

You lift your hips slightly, as he tugs the panties down your legs, tossing them onto the floor. He dips his head back down between your legs. What he does is familiar, and feels amazing. He flattens his tongue against your clit, and drags it up and down slowly, then making circles around it. He starts sucking and nibbling on you.

“That feels so good.” You say through greeted teeth.

He smirks, looking up at you, as his tongue moves down to your folds. He licks you all over, and sticks his tongue inside you. Your hips lift to meet him closer, your hands diving into his curls. His hand moves up to your clit, his thumb rubbing furiously on you as he licks and sucks. You feel hot all over. Is he really going to make you come already?

“Harry, Harry, I’m going to-“ He rubs you even faster. “Shit!” You come undone all over his tongue. Your chest is heaving. You make eye contact with him as he sits up to wipe his mouth. “Wh, why did you?”

“I wanted to make sure you were nice and wet f’me.”

He takes his middle finger into his mouth, and sucks on it. If you had more courage, you would have sucked on it for him. But you were nervous as fuck. This was the first time you were going to let someone up inside you in over a year. You watch him take his finger out of his mouth, and he smiles at you.

“Ready baby?”

“Mhm.”

He leans down to kiss you, taking your bottom lip into house mouth. His lips were swollen from sucking on you. You feel his hand brush over you, and you flinch. He looks at you, but you give him a nod to assure you’re alright. At first, his wet finger just lightly grazes over your slit, moving up and down. This wasn’t so bad.

“Need ya to open up for me a little more.” You take a deep breath, and spread your legs for him. You have a hand on his shoulder, and the other in his hair. His head goes into your neck as he slowly slides his middle finger into you.

At first, you squeeze completely around him, not letting him move. Your breathing is quick and you feel slightly scared at the sensation. He picks his head up a little so he can whisper into your year.

“It’s me baby, just me. I’m not gonna hurt you.” Your grip loosens around him a little as you take a deep breath. “I’m gonna move a little now.”

He slowly brings his finger in and out of you, just to loosen you up a bit. You were ridiculously tight. It was a major turn on for him, but he didn’t want to say it out loud because you were only this tight because you were afraid to let someone in. He wouldn’t be able to get more than one finger in tonight, but he was okay with that. That’s not really what it was about. You felt amazing around his finger, and it was turning him on the way you would loosen and then tighten around him. He continued his slow motions, making you more and more wet. It was starting to feel good the more you relaxed. He curled his finger up in a “comer here” motion inside you, causing you to moan.

“Ohhh my god.” You say arching your back in pleasure.

“M’gonna use my mouth at the same time now.”

“Yup, okay.” Your chest is moving up and down fast. You can’t believe how good this feels.

Harry adjust so his mouth is back down on your clit, his middle finger pumping and out of you. He’s picked up the pace, only a little. The curling motion becoming more apparent. His dick was so hard it was starting to ache, but he tried to ignore it. He just wanted to focus on you, and make you feel good. His tongue made quick flicks up and down on your clit, while his finger pumped faster. You feel your stomach start to tighten.

“Harry, Harry!” You moan his name over and over between gasps. You put your arm back over your mouth and bite down on yourself. Your other hand grasping at his hair, and yanking hard.

The vibrations from Harry’s groans fucking send you.

“I’m gonna ohhhhh ahhhhh…” You come, you come so hard. Harder than he has ever made you come before. Your face and chest is drenched with sweat, and he continues to suck on you and pump slowly while you ride out your high. Your back came fully off the mattress when you arched from the pleasure. Tears started to roll down your cheeks.

Harry slowly takes his finger from you, and sucks it clean. You’re in absolute awe of him. He truly loves the taste of you. You were sweet to him. He looks down and notices your tears. He cups your face in his hands and searches your eyes for answers.

“Shit, are, are you okay? You came pretty hard, I thought it felt good-“ You yank him by the back of his neck and crash your mouth to his, forcing your tongue inside to meet his. You put your hands on his cheeks and pull away.

“That was the greatest orgasm I have ever had.” You say with a scratchy throat. He kisses you again. “Please, take this thing off me.” You lift up so he can pull the gown all the way, revealing your entire naked body. You take his shoulders and pin him to bed, straddling him in the process.

“What, um, what are you doing?” He has woken something up inside you that has been dormant for a long time. You remember how you used to be before. You remember how sexy you used to feel in bed with a guy.

“I’m going to take this.” You say, palming him through his boxers. “And suck you dry.” You feel him twitch in your hand. “You’ve been so good, so patient tonight, letting me feel good first. But now it’s your turn. Gotta get rid of these pesky things first though.”

[ofcloudsandstars]

Happy Yule!

I have plans to cook a nice Yule Feast tonight for my family and I, but I don’t really know what to do beyond that. I know that I don’t have to do anything if I don’t want to or don’t feel up to it, but I genuinely enjoy doing activities to celebrate the Sabbats and such. Any suggestions?

Also, I had really vivid dreams last night. I don’t fully remember them but I get bits and pieces and it’s just very odd. They were so fantastical and there were definitely elements of survival, overcoming difficulty and obstacles, even a concept of like war in some ways, and it was full of magic and mysticism and fantasy themes. It was very intense, and as I’m waking up, I am definitely noticing it affecting the tone and emotions of my day.

sorry if this is weird but first of all you are really beautiful 

secondly I agree that cooking at least 1 nice dish really makes the day. It’s just any other day we really don’t have themed dinners so it kind of makes it more special. 

When planning feasts I take into account how many people I am serving and dietary restrictions so if it’s a feast for myself I usually think of like 1 main dish including some veggies and a dessert since I can’t eat too much alone (I’ve tried and ended many sabbats with stomach aches lol). If it’s family/friends gathering then it’s usually like 2 veggie dishes, usually 1 being cooked veggies, another being a salad of some kind or for the colder months a puree like mashed potatoes, a meat main or if they are non meat eaters then a casserole bake of some kind and then I love baking for dessert cause it fills the house with a nice smell. 

-

For yule’s 2 veg dishes you can do like roasted parsnips and brussel sprouts with rosemary and pine & mashed potatoes (add truffle and/or cheese if your fam eats cheese). Everyone likes 1 whitish veg with cheese on it for this time of year for some reason like maybe it’s the visual of it being wintery. In England cheesy cauliflower is like a staple for food this time of year. 

Then for a main you can do a roast with red wine, chopped shallots and butter. If you guys do not eat meat then maybe something like a mushroom pot pie. I think you can get vegan puff pastry from a super market and just roll it out on top of a pie dish with sauteed veggies and mushrooms and voila lol. I think it’s the same vibe for mushroom wellington but I’ve never attempted at making a wellington in my life (let alone knew what it was until I moved here) but it looks like a nice filling vegetarian/vegan main dish for yule. (It’s basically a ‘meatloaf/veggieloaf’ wrapped in puff pastry). An even easier thing you could put together could be a veggieloaf and add some seasonal sauces on it and make it super buttery and full of spices. 

Depending on how much you like to cook and how much work you feel like doing you can either get a nice yule log at the market (they usually have some good creamy ones) or if you know a nice bakery by you check if they have any. Yule Logs can be sooo incredibly good, super easy to dish out at the end of the night and have with some icecream. If you can’t find one nor feel like buying it, you can toss together some red velvet cake. It’s the easiest festive cake I can think of that will be nice to put together next to all the food you’ll have to cook. Either red velvet (which is just a red chocolate cake with cream cheese lets be honest haha), a black forest cake (chocolate, cherries and cream) or a ginger bread cake depending on your preference. You can find the mixes ready made or if you have the flour, sugar, baking powder, eggs, oil and milk its not too hard to make the batter for a plain cake and add the additional flavorings/colorings after. Alternatively you could end the feast with an array of cookies and hot chocolate since this holiday is big on cookies. Cookies can take way more effort to put together but they are a chance to be creative, combine arts and crafts with food and definitely make the house smell incredible. 

Another dessert idea is a sugar pear tart (get yourself the roll-out pastry and save yourself the time), it can be really easy to put together cause all you have to do is chop some pears and put them in a bag to soak with sugar, spices and wine. Let it sit for a few hours (probably as you cook the other stuff) then just throw the pastry over your pie-tin, add some jam to the bottom if you have any and line up the pears inside and bake for like 30min. 

Also I don’t know if your family enjoys drinking but maybe dishing out some mulled wine before the food can get them feeling festive and build up an appetite for the food to come. You just got to simmer some red wine with spices and sliced fruit. (It’s like a hot sangria haha). Alternatively there’s a lot of festive easy drinks you can toss together if they would like a cocktail like gin + cranberry and ginger ale will taste like a holiday candle. Whiskey + Ginger beer and cinnamon will work amazingly too. White Rum + Eggnog will go great for sweeter and creamier drinks, just add some simple syrup to the mix to smooth it out (or apply like light amounts of rum cause it could overpower the eggnog). Anyway if your family already has ~the liquor cabinet~ maybe see if there is anything in there you can turn into a festive drink or just get some mulled wine going. 

.

Also about your dreams it’s interesting you brought up war cause I definitely felt that vibe. Your dreams sound really insightful though. I am working on my 2021 year spread right now and there is some intense themes but that also could be cause of my Saturn Return is this year :/

Anyway I hope you have a great Yule! It’s wonderful that you are cooking for your family. 

[swastikholidays]

15 Ways to Spend Less and Enjoy More

Life's more than just existing. One day it will vanish. Make sure it's worth living. Don't just exist. Live, enjoy, explore, thrive, Cherish your solitude. Do anything but let it produce joy, a sense of fulfillment.

Believe in miracles, experience wonders, do whatever it takes you to be happy and fulfilled. There is a saying, "Money doesn't buy happiness". Let me disagree and agree with it at the same time. When you are planning to relish the magical experience at Disneyland, nothing except money will let you live that moment.

But that doesn't mean you can't enjoy it at all without currencies. It takes a creative mind to think beyond exceptions and make life worth living. So, whenever next time you are out of budget but still want to seek that sense of fulfillment and happiness, scroll through fifteen unique options you can try your hands on.

1.  Play a Musical Instrument

What's more soothing than music? Music calms you in ways that are not easy to explain. Go for musical instrument sessions or take out your guitar or piano from the store and you are good to go. It won't cost a penny.

Image Source: shutterstock.com

Even if you are a newcomer, it's worth taking live sessions from YouTube and starting learning an instrument, so that whenever you are at a family dinner next time, you can showcase your skills to everyone, and more than that it will amaze you in unbelievable ways.

2. Walk by the Beach

Most of us are lucky to live by water which has amazing quality to soothe our senses. Try that early morning walk by the beach on the powdery sand or an evening walk by the water when moonlight is fully showing its effect inside the waves.

Image Source: Stocksy United

You can even spend a full day around it, experiencing sunbathing by laying your body on the sandy coastline. This soothing experience will pleasure you in ample ways and give you a sense of fulfillment.

3. Go Hiking

Though going for hiking tours will extract major currency out of your pocket, a nearby or city outskirts hilly landscape will not cost much. You can pack your bag, put all the necessary equipment in it from a water bottle to a small camping kit.

Image Source: Wallpapper Cave

It will grant you fitness as well as an amazing experience. Hike the top of the valley, place your camp there at night, and experience that beautiful morning from the hilltop.

4. Devour Chocolate Delicacy

Chocolate makes everything water. Its properties make it an addictive delicacy. Who doesn't love chocolate anyway? Whenever having a bad day or left with less money, do nothing but go to a store and buy chocolate to experience amazingness.

Image Source: The Chocolate Delicacy

A chocolate cake, truffle can do wonders because all you need is peace, love, and understanding, and a chocolate bar bigger than your head.

5. Family Picnic

A trip may sound like a costly affair but a picnic is a perfect example of enjoying more and spending less. Choose a nearby park or a peaceful location and go out on a family picnic.

Image Source: SheKnows

Pack all the food items, mouth-watering dishes to water or juice bottles, and make sure to pack a mat. Take a racket or a football or a cricket kit to enjoy more. Live, love and laugh, and be the best version of yourself.

6. Ride a Bike

There are days when we feel like being alone and going somewhere far where nothing chases us and no one except our company can be our companion. For those days, your bike can come to your rescue.

Image Source: Le Tour De India

Experience a bike tour to nearby areas while a soft breeze kisses your face and gives you a soothing feel. Sometimes we don't need a trip to enjoy ourselves more, a biking tour can be very touching. Just maintain safety and you will be on unexplored endeavors of life.

7. Explore Nearby Places

For how many years you have been living in a particular location and haven't explored the nearby locations. You may never know that there could be some hidden gems existing nearby your residence. It's way more adventurous than exploring a new destination, especially if you’re living in historic cities such as New Delhi or Hyderabad.

Image Source: Stocksy United

You can take your bestie with you and enjoy it to the fullest. You can begin from the backyard or a location on the outskirts of the city. Learn about historical monuments nearby or know about the total geography. It's up to your inner explorer to see whatever they want to gain.

8. Enjoy Happy Hours

It is a term used for the time when a particular restaurant or bar offers discounts on drinks. You can gain the maximum out of it if you plan accordingly. Just know when you need to enter a particular foodie joint and devour free appetizers and discounted menu items.

Image Source: Showbiz Cheat Sheet

Likewise, you can save money and enjoy the limited currency you have in your pocket. No matter how stressed you are throughout the day, the magic of happy hour will extract that from you and let you enjoy it amazingly.

9. Volunteer

The ultimate sense of fulfillment comes when you render exceptional services for your countrymen. Join an NGO or volunteer for social service to contribute even your bit to society. You never know a little contribution from your side can be a lifesaver for another person.

Image Source: The Town of Edson

Enjoying not only means fulfilling yourself or doing things which can benefit only you, sometimes the real sense of enjoyment can be felt when you see someone else smile because of you and let them attain what they deserve.

10. Adopt a Hobby

Routine tasks are good, there's nothing wrong with doing productive work but adopting a hobby and practicing it on a daily or weekly basis will not cost you anything. It will make you feel peaceful and accomplished.

Image Source: Mantelligence

It can be anything from listening to music, dancing to your favorite tune, or cooking new dishes. When you know that you have things to do even on free days, you will never feel bored or feel like planning something extraordinary and a hobby doesn't cost much but your skills and time.

11. Exercise Outdoors

Hitting the gym could be part of your routine but working on your fitness outdoors can be a day challenge or an activity for the days when you are planning to enjoy in a real sense. Get up early in the morning and choose a nearby park or backyard lawn to practice fitness.

Image Source: NBC News

Soothing breeze, early morning rays of sun touching your face will do wonders for your health in and out. Going to the gym for fitness may cost much but doing the same exercises outdoors won't cost anything plus will also give you a real sense of accomplishment.

12. Karaoke Sessions

Clean your backyard first thing in the morning and decorate it well for evening karaoke sessions with delicious barbecue plans. This is a luxurious and in-budget experience at the same time. It could be whole family fun or just you and your small fam jam.

Image Source: CTV News Vencouver

Dress well, take pictures, record videos & live music sessions. A perfect evening time with family can turn out to be worth relishing. Relive the moments and enjoy to the fullest while your expenses can be controlled.

13. Visit Your Village

Your busy routine might not have allowed you to meet your grandparents and go to your village. Give yourself a change of scene and experience beautiful natural surroundings while you can devour mouth-watering cuisines prepared by your grandma.

Image Source: Kerala Tourism

Take a jungle safari with grandpa or learn from his hunting skills to enjoy as much as you can. Learn the art of cooking healthy dishes from them and spend some fun-filled time. Nothing can make you feel happier than your village tour and meeting your grandparents.

14. Find a Nearby Library

What's more soothing to a book lover than visiting the library and surrounding yourself with multiple books and that exotic smell of books can do wonders to your mind. You can enjoy the maximum and your whole day can be fun-filled with multiple books.

Image Source: Bluesyemre

Explore several pieces of work in a nearby library of the town and you never know which historical piece you may lay your hands on which can turn out to be a huge add-on for your knowledge bank. Don't forget to make a library card so that whenever you feel the urge to get surrounded by books, you don't have to think much.

15. Surf the Waves

Surfing doesn't mean only buying or renting expensive boards. Just surf through your body while taking precautions to not go deep. Equip yourself with a pair of swim fins to aid propulsion. This adventurous experience can be an add-on for your skillset as well as soothing for your senses.

Image Source: Offshore Surf School

Whenever next time you want to feel rich and have the urge to earn more for happiness, just count the things that money can't buy and experience to your fullest.

If you have any question regarding this wonderland – do email us and I will be happy to answer any of your queries or any travel package.

Email id: info@swastikholiday.com

Contact Numbers: +91-8510901222, +91-9990346013, +91-9812567225, +91-9213313000

Swastik Holiday - Best Tour & Trravel Agency In India!

[famousflowermagazine]

happy bellarke fam selfie night i was tagged by @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold my stupid laptop finally let me take a selfie on here instead of uploading it from my ipod, i swear technology hates me sometimes it would have been nice if it had worked months ago ugh,anyway i hope everyone is having a good week, me on the other hand has stupid stomach cramps sometimes i hate being a girl so my week has not been stellar. last episode was intense protective bellamy is my jam.

regarding the new episode my favourite moment was where Josephine was telling Clarke about her sob story of being in love with Gabriel for lord knows how many years and Clarke retorted with boo hoo in morse code was classic legends only when that scene was happening i literally rolled my eyes i mean like seriously bitch you don’t know the half of it Clarke has been in love with Bellamy twice as long your really not that special.

 this is the second time bellarke have been compared to a canon romantic couple i will NEVER BE OVER IT. come to think of it how many times have they been compared to canon couples?  the answer too many to count.

what i loved about Bellamy this episode was him being protective over Clarke doing everything it took to keep the woman he loves safe by cutting his own hand and smearing his blood on Clarke’s forehead so that the children of Gabriel didn’t find out that Clarke is a nightblood. even saying to Josephine after she demands that he takes her home and Bellamy retorts with “if i take you home, you’ll use an emp and kill Clarke, and i told you i won’t let that happen” there is no way that Clarke is dying on his watch not again.

The moment when he threatened one of the children of Gabriel saying “touch her, and i tell you nothing.” it may be Josephine in Clarke’s body but she is inhabiting the woman he loves body so it only natural that he would be protective of her.

the scene where Bellamy gently grabs her hands  preventing her from helping him escape saying that she has to run. He loves her so much he is willing to do what ever it takes to keep the woman who he loves alive the line “he’d do anything to protect her,just makes sense has so much meaning now i will never be over how much Bellamy loves Clarke with his entire heart and vice versa i think that’s beautiful.

the way his face lights up as he realises that the woman he loves is back even for a little while they way he softly says Clarke? because he is not quite sure that it’s really her.

the way he tries to say what’s in his heart to the woman he loves and you can see the way he swallows before opening his mouth and says with such determination and conviction “i won’t let you die.” is as powerful as an i love you would be but there are so many other ways that you can tell someone how you feel about them.

so what i’m saying is Bellamy Blake is  incontrovertible in love with Clarke that it brings tears to my eyes because i wish i had someone who loves me like Bellamy loves Clarke.

and i loved how in episode 6 x 09 Clarke adamantly said to Bellamy “no, i’m not leaving you.” and Bellamy has to gently grab her hands preventing her from helping him escape saying that she has to run just made my heart melt he loves her so much the way the camera zooms in on their hands is no coincidence that was blatantly shown as romantic.

i was just wondering does any one know if the traitor who you love line from season 5 will be brought up this season? i think it was mentioned at a con but i’m not sure which one.  i really can not wait to see the episode that bob directed that is the last episode i will be able to watch as i am on holiday next saturday so i might not be on as much so if i get tagged in any selfies i might not be able to upload mine until the day i come back so keep up the positivity and keep on being awesome if bellarke becomes canon while i am on holiday make sure to notify me if you can be well and be kind. 

tagging the usual people     @anne-shirley-blythe   @chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky   @clarke-the-ferrari   @sometimesrosy     @selflessbellamy   @johnmurphysass    @geekyogicheese    @pawprinterfanfic   @a-story-written-in-the-stars   @talistheintrovert   @detectivebellamyblake    @braveprincess   

@lameblake       

[babbushka]

1973

Happy New Year everyone!! I love my adam driver fan fam so much, I hope you all have nothing but light and love and good things in the year to come. I’ve met so many incredible people in 2018, and I’m so looking forward to seeing what 2019 has in store for us!! 

Please enjoy this short Flip Zimmerman x Reader fic, and have a safe and happy evening!!

Word count: 2,000

Warnings: Very minor angst

1972. What a crazy year, you thought as you took a sip of the punch in your hand.

Between the attacks in the Munich Olympics and Watergate, you were exhausted. It seemed like every time you turned on your television there was more bad news. Of course there were good things too, like the newly passed Equal Rights Amendment and the premiere of The Godfather, but…on the whole you were ready for a new beginning.

Only a few minutes remained of the year, and you found yourself surrounded by the officers and staff of the CSPD at their end of year party. The fluorescent lights were turned off, replaced with rotating colorful ones that made it feel very much like a school dance. The music was blaringly loud – someone managed to snag a copy of the new ABBA record – the food was good, and the drinks were better.

Someone on roller skates zoomed past you, and in the middle of the room a conga line had broken out. The corner of your mouth twitched into a smile as you watched Janet, the elderly secretary, leading the line and weaving it around the craft services table where you currently were hiding out.

“(Y/N)! Come on, join us! You know you want to!” Janet called, shouting over the loud music.

“I can’t, I’ll spill my drink.” You shouted back with an apologetic smile. Janet winked and led the conga line away.

You loved working at the CSPD, and you were glad to be with your friends, but something was weighing on your mind.

Across the bullpen was Flip.

You two had been flirting back and forth for what seemed like ages, although it really could have only started eight months ago when you had started working there. With the way he looked at you, and the way you two spent almost all of your time together, you had desperately hoped he might ask you out at some point over the holidays, but it never happened.

In fact, over the slight holiday break, Flip had grown distant. You weren’t sure if it had been because of something you said – maybe you had come across too strongly? – or something else altogether, but it had been a great source of anxiety for you these past few days.

Any time you approached Flip, he would make a turn and head the other direction. When you were lucky enough to get to talk to him, he would make an excuse to leave as soon as he could.

It was crushing, to say the least.

So there you were, mere feet from the man you had begrudgingly fallen in love with, only to have him want nothing to do with you.

You wouldn’t even get a New Year’s Kiss.

Something about that thought was the final straw for you, and you chugged the rest of the spiked drink and threw your cup away, escaping to the bathroom.

You wished you had the guts to just ask Flip what his deal was – why he turned his attitude on you so suddenly. You wished it didn’t matter, but it did. Flip was your best friend at the station, the two of you always passing each other notes, whispering in the halls like teenagers, sharing coffee in the morning and meeting at the water cooler in the afternoon. He’s fallen asleep on your couch more times than you could count, and you’ve spent more time at his apartment than you have your own, simply enjoying each other’s company, laughing until the early hours of morning.

Having him avoid eye contact with you for nearly a week was a punch to your gut.

“Pull yourself together.” You told your reflection in the mirror, jabbing a finger against the glass. “1972 is over, 1973 will be better, and you will be happy, damnit.”

Your reflection didn’t look too convinced.

Splashing some cold water on your face, you patted yourself dry with a paper towel and returned to the party, a new cup of punch in hand. This time, you stood near the trash can, wanting to distance yourself from the party as much as possible. You were proud of yourself for not looking for Flip, eyes set on the falling snow outside that you could see through the window.

“Whatcha doing all the way over here?” A friendly face appeared out of the crowd.

You recognized the man as being one of the newer officers to the station, his name was something generic, like Bill, or Bob, or Barry – you couldn’t remember.

“Just having some punch, it’s really good.” You replied awkwardly, not really wanting any sort of conversation with Bill(?).

“Mind if I join you?” Maybe Bill asked, before blushing scarlet and stammering, “I just mean – I – you looked a little lonely, is all.”

You were trying to figure out how to politely decline, when you felt someone step up behind you.

“Actually, (Y/N) was just waiting for me.” The deep rumble of Flip’s baritone seemed to pass through you before it could get to Maybe Bill. “You can go now.” Flip dismissed the junior officer, who scrambled away.

“Hi Zimmerman.” You say softly, so soft that it gets lost in the music, but Flip somehow hears you anyway.

You don’t bother turning around, you know who it is, and you think that maybe he should be on the receiving end of the cold shoulder this time.

“Can I talk to you?” He asks, making your chest clench. “Outside?”

Finally you turn, and you’re face to face with him for the first time in days. You frown – he looks awful. Like he hasn’t been sleeping, or drinking enough water, or something. Your first instinct is to be worried about him, is there a case that has him stretched too thin? He never did know when to step back and take care of himself.

“Sure.” You find yourself nodding, walking out of the bullpen and through the lobby doors to the outside patio.

In your haste, you didn’t grab your jacket. Your arms immediately wrap around yourself to provide some warmth.

“Here.” Flip says, draping his thick jacket over your shoulders. He’s frowning, and you frown too.

“Thanks.” You say, pulling your arms through the jacket sleeves. You try your hardest not to think about how strongly the corduroy smells like him. “So…” You say, clearing your throat.

“So.” Flip agrees, jamming his hands in his pockets. “I know we only have five minutes before the new year, but I wanted to apologize.”

He looks nervous, afraid of you for some reason. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Flip afraid of anything, not even when he was facing down the klan. He was avoiding eye contact again, but this time it wasn’t out of annoyance or dislike, it was out of an embarrassment of some kind – which was even stranger to you.

“For what?” You ask, trying and failing to keep your hopes from rising.

“For being an ass and ignoring you the way I was.” He sighed, his breath making puffs of steam in the air. “I thought that maybe it’d be best for us if I stopped this in its tracks, before it could become dangerous.”

“Flip…” You whispered, your mind caught on what this could be.

“No, (Y/N), you have to listen to me.” Flip continued, finally finally looking at you. He was pleading with you, so you let him speak. “When Ron and I went on that case, all I could think about was you; What if I got hurt, what if you got hurt as a result of being involved with me?”

“Flip – ” You went to interrupt him, but he was having none of it.

“You know the cases I work, the danger that goes along with it. If they had found out I was a cop, and they knew about you, they could have…I dunno.” He shook his head, trying to get the thought away from his mind before it could turn into something more real. “I couldn’t let – I couldn’t…”

“Flip.” You stepped close to him, a hand on his cheek.

“I’m in love with you.” He blurted. Your eyes went wide, and he rushed to keep talking, rushed to get it all out before you had a chance to say anything back. “Have been for a while. I know I probably just..fuckin’ ruined our friendship and everything but I need you to know.” He sighed, a great weight lifted from his shoulders.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, after a moment of stunned silence.

Flip chewed his lip, reaching up to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. Flurries of snow dusted the top of your head, and the shitty light from the lampposts backlit you like an angel.

“Because I thought you didn’t feel the same.” Flip shrugged, feeling foolish for admitting anything at all. “I figured if I told you and you rejected me, things would get weird and you wouldn’t want to be around me anymore. That maybe you’d think everything I said or did was some ploy to get you to be mine.”

“I was already yours, Flip.” You said, causing him to still immediately. “From the very first day I stepped into the office, I knew I’d be yours.” You confessed, blush creeping across your cheeks.

“Wait – are you saying..?” Flip asked, needing you to say the words, needing to hear them come from your lips.

“I love you too, you mountain man.” You smiled.

“Yeah?” Flip asked, a huge grin spreading across his face.

“Yeah.” You nodded, laughing with how giddy you felt.

Flip laughed too, in disbelief that this was real, that you were real.  

“How much time do we have left?” You breathed, stepping impossibly closer to him for warmth, and to be close.

“Fifteen seconds, why?” Flip checked his watch, and you knew your face had to be beet red, but you didn’t care.

“Because I want to start my new year off right.” You said, licking your lips.

Flip watched the movement, and got the hint, because ever so slowly, he began to lean in, until his forehead was pressed against yours. Your noses rubbed together, waiting to hear the countdown from just on the other side of the station doors.

“Ten! Nine…eight…seven…six…five…four…three…two…one! Happy New Year!”

Fireworks exploded overhead, a beautiful display of white and gold that lit up the night sky.

Flip wasted no time in pressing his lips against yours. You couldn’t get a good grip on one another because you were both smiling too wide, but soon the kiss turned passionate.

Flip wrapped his arms around you, and walked you to one of the poles that held up the awning of the patio, pressing you up against it for support as he let his hands wander. They roamed from your face to your hips, warm fingers smoothing down your sides as they went.

You tangled a hand in his hair, the other one gripping at his bicep to keep you steady. You opened your mouth just a touch, and it was all the invitation Flip needed to slide his tongue against yours, hot and slow.

The cheering that exploded inside the station felt like it was happening on another planet, lightyears away from you. To you, there was only Flip, and his hands, and his mouth. You gasped into his embrace as his hands dipped below the waistband of your skirt, just for a moment before pulling away.

Flip broke the kiss and smiled. You smiled back, reaching up to him to press a peck or two more against his lips, not wanting it to be over so soon.

“What do you say we ditch the party?” Flip asked, sliding the bridge of his nose against your cheek.

“Hell yes.” You giggle, Flip leading you to his car that was parked in the first space of the lot. “Happy New Year, Flip.” You say, when he opens the door for you.

“Happy New Year honey.” He replies with a grin, leaning over to kiss you once more. “Here’s to 1973.”

Tagging some friends! I lost my big tag list post-purge, so if you’d like to be tagged in any of my future reader insert fics, please leave me a comment or send me a message and i’ll add you! @fullofbees @spinebarrel @oh-adam @dreamboatdriver @bad--bad--man @thecurlycaptain @bourbonboredom @driverficarchive @aweirdlookingtree @rosalynbair @redhairedfeistynerd 

[doofwrites]

Made up fic title: we deserve a soft epilogue my love

(dedicated to @aquietconstellation bc friendship)

SO

-may & peter-centric, because you didnt specify romantic love so ha. HA.

-post-a4, most likely a few years later, when it’s may seeing her boy graduate college, still breathing, still alive

-probably a timeline fic now that i think about it? just over the years stuff. graduation, engagements, weddings. watching the trio (+ betty) interact with may a lot, because i love them.

-peter getting used to may actually worrying less and less. (she’s moved on to the “i want to see you succeed and be happy bar nothing” phase again, and just wants him to be the best superhero he can be.)

-mayday parker meeting her grandma under the bright white lights of a hospital room

-lil benjamin “jams” parker doin the same a few years later

-peter fluctuating between trying to help mj with the bills (tho, tbh, she probably doesnt need it,) and superheroing so much all he has time for is like, an hour with fam at the end of the day.

-(if he and mj finally buy a house and ask may to move in with them, may definitely cries)

-(actually everyone does)

-(it’s also close to ned and betty and it is an Insane Household 24/7)

-lots of mj and ned and betty hanging with may and may like, mom-ing them but also spouting wisdom and making them very relaxed when life knowing peter parker is not relaxing

-FAMILY TRIPS TO EVERYWHERE

-and holidays at home. and taking pictures. and secret identity reveals for the spidey squads’ kids

-and a lotta years down the line

-when it’s time to rest

-a soft day by someone’s bedside

-laughing, reminiscing

-and just saying

-”It was a good run, Peter. I had a good run.” and forehead kisses and “Say hi to Uncle Ben for me, okay?” and happy tears and “Take care of yourself, sweetie. I’ll see you soon.”

-and a last breath

-and peace

-(and many years later, a homecoming)

[sun-summoning]

harukaozawa replied to your post “if you ever wonder where the hell i am, the answer is i am out living...”

Would definitely be interested in any fave recipes you have to share

OKAY THIS MAKES ME REALLY HAPPY :D

when i make anything with choux pastry i use this recipe. at first i would make eclairs bc they’re arguably prettier and seem fancier, but i prefer making cream puffs instead. rather than having an ugly crooked eclair, you get a cute little dollop!! and i’ll just use a star tip when piping to give it ~texture~ and add just a little bit to it. also it freezes very well after baked. i usually have a bag of pre-baked puffs in the freezer. when i need them, i just stick them in the oven for a few minutes so they can crisp up and then voila.

also this is going to sound douchey and i swear i’m not a snob, but i really do recommend mixing the eggs into your choux pastry by hand. and if you need a bit more egg than what your recipe calls for, then add it slowly. the recipe i use calls for four but sometimes the eggs are small or maybe i dried the flour clump out too much on the stove idk. but i’ve learned to just trust my instincts (obvs these must be developed) and drizzle in a bit more egg when necessary. and then if you have a bit of egg left over, you can egg wash (i never do that lol) or if you’re like me, eat scrambled eggs for dinner.

now for my pastry cream, i started off with this recipe. as a standard vanilla cream, it’s lovely! ngl i picked it bc it had the least amount of egg yolks required. some require like five yolks and that’s just too many egg white omelettes for dinner for me. 

anyway, i’ve since started playing around with that recipe as a base to make different flavours by infusing the milk at the beginning. when i want to make earl grey, i add maybe like three tea bags and let that sit when the milk is coming to a boil.

and then over the holidays, i was making peppermint bark but then my dumbass seized the freakin chocolate so i ended up with a clump of hard gritty minty chocolate. there’s not much to do with seized chocolate lol, but you can add it into something where it’ll be 100% melted. so in this case i added it to the milk!! um i added prob like 1/2 a cup of it and it made the cream a bit thicker. not that i’m complaining. but just saying.

i seized some chocolate like last weekend bc apparently i cannot do something as simple as melt chocolate. i’d like to try using that to make maybe a mocha filling? so i’ll just melt the chocolate when the milk is coming to a boiler with some instant coffee. 

i’ve been asked to bake earl grey cream puffs for my friend’s wedding. i was thinking of giving her a few flavours, one of which might be ube. one of my coworkers has already insisted on being my taste testers. my mom suggested using ube jam, but i think that might be a bit too strong, so i might make a basic pastry cream (sans the vanilla or maybe with just a dash?) and then mix the jam into that. idk i need to test this. fortunately the wedding is still in june. 

OKAY THAT WAS A LOT OF PARAGRAPHS ON CHOUX PASTRY.

these brown butter chocolate chip toffee cookies are delicious. i never have flaky sea salt on hand. also i’ve never made an effort to find it. i have shamelessly just used coarse. 

this is the almond biscotti recipe i’ve been using. i’m still trying to get all the bake times down properly. man do not cut the biscotti without a hefty first bake. it’s just a mess if the cookie is still too soft. i’m a dumbass. but i learned my lesson!

i like this macaron recipe bc it’s fairly foolproof and if anyone has ever made macarons before.....yeah. my first time was good. my second time they were chocolate and just ended up looking like little swirls of shit lol. they tasted good though!! but yeah i find with that recipe the cookies are always nice and chewy. i also find that they don’t really crack. rather, they stay true to the form that they went into the oven with. i’ve upped my egg white to about 75g, but i do want to see if adding some more will changed how it all turns out. 

ok so my mom loves cheese tarts and i love my mom for her birthday last year i got her half a dozen (that’s generally how they’re sold) from three different places and we kind of ranked them to pick our fave. love you uncle tetsu but i’m still sad that you closed your matcha store i loved those matcha madeleines so much. anyway, i made these tarts for the fam and everyone seemed to like it. i did find the filling to have a bit of a grainy texture. still delicious though. tbh i haven’t tried recreating them yet. my friends gave me a set of mini tart pans for christmas though so i’ll try again soon.

and madeleines!! ok plains ones are nice, but frankly i find them kind of lacking. my personal favourites are ones that have a good hint of lemon and some icing sugar dusted on top. i haven’t made them in a while, but i definitely have a phase. if you ever want to and you need to buy pans, i recommend not giving into the temptation of buying the baby sized ones where the madeleines are like the size of your thumb (prob smaller). they’re great, don’t get me wrong, but the i think the full sized ones are way better. also since they’re virtually little cakes, i have shamelessly put the mix into a greased muffin pan or tart pan lol. i ran out of space in my madeleines trays and wasn’t going to go through a second round of baking. my utilities yo.

and these chocolate cookies. a very simple recipe but somehow everyone i’ve ever fed them to absolutely loves them. they’re like brownies. also i’m a lazy fuck and will not be bothered with rolling out the dough and making shapes. i literally just make little balls, press my thumb into them, and then move on. and if i feel like making them pretty, i melt some chocolate, dip the cookies in that, then dip them in sprinkles.

AND TRES LECHES. i fucking LOVE tres leches cake. ok i don’t remember what recipe i use, but i want you to know i love it.

alright that’s all for now. if you made it to the end of this post, congratulations. 

[pixelatedlenses]

I forgot to post up some beginning of the week positivity, but it’s never too late to try, and hey, that’s good inspiration to rememberthat your life has worth. (Also, a talk about the holidays!)

Things may be hard, especially around the holidays. The expectaton of happiness can be draining for so many, especially if this hasn’t been a good year for you. Plus, the holidays can often bring up a lot of feelings: the juxtaposition of sudden, expected excitement doesn’t meld with things like grief or feelings of despair. It’s important for us to all remember that not everyone is having the same Hallmark moment. Someone might be Kisses For Christmas while you’re feeling like Burnt Cocoa and Not So Good Wrapped Packages Because I Got Frustrated and Accidentally Cut Myself on the Scissors...for Christmas

And that’s perfectly fine!

(Those are some good fake titles... or maybe they’re really. Except that last one. I don’t know if that title would fit on a Blu-Ray.)

But don’t fret: it’s okay to not feel happy. It’s okay to feel really crummy, especially this time of year. Try your best to put a time limit on sitting in those feelings: that way, your heart knows that there’s light at the end of the tunnel. That’s what’s helped me a lot this year: I sit in my feelings, wrap them around me like a blanket, let the coldness of grief and sadness lull me to sleep sometimes because... that’s all I can do. Not lately, thankfully, but many times this year. 

And then I allow myself a bit of a reprieve, talk myself through what I’mfeeling, reach back out without snapping at people, and find that yes, I will make it, but yes, things can also simultaneously be hard. I know this won’t work for everyone: what has helped me isn’t universal. But here’s a different approach just in case.

Here’s a playlist sad christmas jams from one of my favorite scholars and feminist, Hanna McGregor of Oh, Witch Please & Secret Feminist Podcast fame, a wonderful Canadian who know’s what’s up at the holidays. Listen to that when days don’t have that jingle-jangle, make yourself a hot drink, and let yourself breath: it’s not a perfect solution, but it can help you release some of that tension. Cry if you need: I’m learning to lvoe crying, and boy, is it cathartic!

And hey, warmest wishes this month. You do the holidays the way you need: no one should pressure you or make you/force you to be happy. If this isn’t the best time of year for you, recognize that that’s fine, and that’s valid. Try not to snap at others: we’re all living our own experiences, and someone sipping the Southern Comfort and wearign their best ugly sweater may be feeling the same without someone having reached out. Remember that kindness -though hard fought for at many times- is an easy thing to give: give a small smile or a word of encouragement.

We’re all gonna get through to the end of the holiday season, holiday cheer or not!

Take care and have great days! Brush your teeth, drink some water -I like mine with lemon- and tell yourself thank you at some point. I’m glad you exist, dear reader: so very, very glad.

[okayamadenim]

Christmas kit on point with the CHUP Santa jam paired with the OD+PBJ 20th’s🎄🎅🏽 Happy Holidays, from our fam to yours! PC: @mrman_ig http://bit.ly/2SeYYA9