#i put up my string lights the week before thanksgiving!! i’m turning on the fairy lights on my bookshelf for the first time in months!!

[eugeniedanglars]

i’m rewatching a christmas prince for the first time since it came out and between this and falling for christmas—yall, i don’t know if it’s just that i’m feeling extra festive this year or if vespers are the secret ingredient to making christmas romcoms good, but goddamn, i am so much more engrossed in this movie than i was the first time around and i think i unironically like cheesy christmas romcoms now??

[a-simple-complexity]

Things about the creepypasta improv thing my close friend and I have been doing since 4th or 5th grade (maybe longer):

- My character doesn't really have a cp name yet but has been around for 401 years

- My character, when not at the mansion, is roomies with JTK (and he steals cheese its)

- Vivian's (the close friend) character is close to Slenderman and has a older sister bond with Sally

- Aside from the Jeff The Cheeze Itz Snatcher gag we have more running gags

- Such as Masky locking Toby in the closet when he's annoying only to turn around and see Toby standing there.... MENACINGLY (lol)

- LJ punts Mr Widemouth across the mansion weekly

- EJ is no longer allowed to cook for others after the barbeque of 2017. We miss you, Butler Bill

- Tuesdays and Thursdays Viv's character takes pets and children out the mansion for a playdate while everyone else has some fun

- Viv's Hidden Stash of Tuna TM

- My Hidden Stash of Vodka and Rum TM

- My character might have a problem but then again immortals aren't really affected by alcohol like most mortals are

- Speaking about my character: Holy. Pets.

- They have a bunch of guard dogs (despite them all being guard dogs they are pampered like you wouldn't believe)

- Pastas respect COVID stuff. Slender ordered everyone to scatter until it's mellowed out alot. Slender caught it at some point. They say get the vaccine and wear ya damn mask.

- There's a "Community Garden". It's just a few pitcher plants, some Butterworts, a killer cow plant (courtesy of Ben pulling some strings), a small patch of wither roses (courtesy of Herobrine), and a oran berry plant (courtesy of a few poke-pastas), rose bushes, etc

- Holidays are fun too

- Christmas time is filled with my character and Viv's taking Sally, Jane, Clockwork, and Nina out for a "girls" night

- Granted Nina only gets taken along bc despite the love-hate relationship between my character and Jeff, Jeff deserves time away from Nina during the holidays at least

- Also despite Jeff hating Nina he appreciates the knives she gives him (and return he gives her some sort of card)

- Due to staying in the vents constantly and stalking everyone my character gets everyone what they think they like would like

- Christmas lights everywhere. Splendor always gets Offender to put the star on top the comically large tree just bc

- Despite it not being Christmas music, everyone listens to Hotel California by The Eagles

- and watches Christmas movies (what was that Christmas movie with Tim Allen?)

- Everyone plays in the snow. Jeff decides to start a snowball fight and Sally makes a snow man.

- Everyone wears something festive and it's normally an ugly sweater thanks to Trender

- Spiked nog anyone?

- Thanksgiving includes everyone gathering together and having fun

- A small hunting trip is planned instead of a football game (the hunt takes place the day prior bc no one wanna miss the parade)

- Sally's favorite float is the Charlie brown float

- You know how the president pardons a turkey? Slender pardons a victim (and has been doing it since meeting Viv's character bc of a joke Viv made)

- My character makes mashed potatoes or some sort of really outdated dish from the 1700's

- The Slender Bros, Viv's character, Sally, Toby, Smile Dog, Jeff, and Nina all watch the dog show after the parade

- Nina is kinda allergic to dogs and doesn't really like them but bc of her lingering obsession with Jeff she puts up with it

- Offender and Trender argue over what dog they think should have won (funny to watch to grown immortal-ass men argue over this)

- Slender carves the turkey

- The pardoned victim is allowed to stay for dinner granted a majority of memories get changed (not really erased, just changed)

- My character, Jeff, and Ben all walk through the woods before dinner and get fucking plastered (and think no one notices....everyone notices)

- the week of Thanksgiving the tree gets put up (acceptable if it's the week of Thanksgiving, any other time then it's just weird)

- My characters mom, (considered the co-founder of Hell) pops in, steals a couple slices of pie, and leaves

- Halloween is celebrated kind of like Thanksgiving and Christmas

- My character decorates the mansion with various bones

- 31 Days of Horror Movies (at some point it's decided to watch Earnest Scared Stupid and some of the serious dog lovers opt out)

- The Slender Brothers dress up as the three musketeers. Splendor is Porthos, Offender is Athos, Slender is D'artagnan and, Trender is Aramis

- Jeff and my character do a duel costume by dressing of as Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer from Cats (musical not movie, duh) alternatively they dress as Rum Tum Tugger and Mr. Mistoffelees.

- Sally dresses as Carrie or a fairy princess

- Jane, Clockwork, Nina, Viv's Character dress up as four of the five muses from Hercules (Viv changes last minute to a cat due to her character having cat ears and a cat tail)

- Toby, Masky, and Hoodie originally wanted to dress as the three musketeers but after slender took that idea they decide to dress up as separate things. Toby dresses as Masky. Masky dresses as the phantom of the opera and Hoodie is a ghost.

- Smile dog dresses as a hot dog :P

- A small hunting trip is planned and Jane and Clockwork take Sally trick or treating

- Everyone finishes the month with A Night are Before Christmas (a classic)

- Not many celebrate Valentine's day

- It's really only the Slender Bros, Viv's character, My character, Nina, Toby, Masky & Hoodie, and Sally

- and by Sally I mean she just leaves candy from the candy bowl everywhere

- Masky and Hoodie make a day of it since Slender gives them holidays off. They eat cheesecake in the woods and just spend the day together.

- Toby spends the day alone but still celebrates in his own way. Eating waffles.

- Offender (in our improv thing he's not....yeah....he's just a hopeless romantic that does consensual hook ups) and my character spend his their leaving roses out at restaurants and going to bars for hookups. They have a bunch of stuff worked out.

- Viv and Slender spend the day in bed or lounging in the living room watching some cheesy comedy.

- Trender spends the day as a self care day seeing as he's alone at the moment. Every day is self care for him but it's even more on Valentine's Day. He goes all out and even treats himself to a fancy restaurant.

- Splendor likes going to neighborhoods and leaving cute little poems on people's doors then heading to the zoo for personal time.

- Nina harasses Jeff who, in return, leaves the mansion and heads to the apartment him and my character share.

- New Years is something everyone celebrates. While some have resolutions others have new quotas they're trying to meet.

- Sally tries to stay up and watch the ball drop (she's only seen it drop twice before falling asleep)

- My character and Viv's character get shit faced

- Jeff normally sits there with a beer in one hand and Smile Dog beside him

- that's really all that consists of New Years

More about our two characters:

My character:

- a 401 year old demon thing

- in our universe hell is ran by the 7 devil's as well as my characters mother. Hells more of a city than a pit.

- Has lived with Jeff as a roommate since late 2018

- Use to be with Herobrine but broke it off with him for unknown reasons.....they're civil and still good friends. He's one of those people that could make a good boyfriend but is best as a close friend

- On their 400th birthday a crackening happened in Hell that enhanced their powers and they were hunted by Zalgo. Luckily a truce was established.

- Has been by Viv's character side since her characters soul was first created. More in Viv's Character's section

- Y'know those dogs that were talked about in the beginning? They primarily stay at their mothers mansion in Hell.

- Also all cats go to hell but they don't get hurt. They like to watch. Sometimes if you're lucky you might get a celebrity's cat. That's how my character got their lovely (and kinda douchy cat) Delilah. She likes to pee all over people's suits just bc she's like that.

- They were born in 1620 but are progressive

- Still liked fashion through the ages

- Maybe not the health damaging ones

- Is able to fly and teleport but due to back pain and migraines prefers to stay grounded and rarely use teleportation

- Doesn't actually kill much but has had souls sold to them (job as a demon....doesn't really need one though....is Crossroads Demon)

- Had a one night stand with Trender about 240ish years ago

- Does have proxies....it's those souls they take and barter around for

- Souls in hell can be used for currency depending on whether or not they sold their soul

- Anyways, was at some point known for having an obsession with chainsaws and hoodies...still has a bunch of hoodies and a chainsaw but doesn't really use them much (is more of a flannel and gun person now)

Viv's Character:

- her character managed to get everyone's favorite dwarfed rag doll cat from the internet

- Her character use to be with Entity 303 and ended up Slenderman

- that makes two of us who were with a Minecraft pasta and ended up with a slender brother lol

- I think her character is called Kat or KC so for now imma call her character Kat

- Kat has an addiction to tuna and milk

- Also has cat ears and a cat tail which are both very sensitive

- when Kat's soul was created my character was created. Even though Kat has been through many many reincarnations my character has always been alongside her. Even though my character doesn't die they act as a guardian towards Kat.

- Has a tendency to sit up in the cat walks and within the walls of the mansion alongside my character

- Gets lost in the forest from time to time and needs help getting out

- Despite being with Slender she has her own room to store her weapons and stash her plans.

- If I'm not mistaken Kat also was with Toby for a short while but doesn't talk about it much. Imagine dating your ex-lovers boss lol

- Disappears for up to a week sometimes without saying where she's going and when she comes back she acts as if nothing happened

- When both Kat and my character started living in the mansion they shared a room for about a year.

- Kat had a personal garden that was completely wiped out by Zalgo before a treaty was established and she still hasn't forgave him

- The garden mostly had marigolds and a few small plants. The only one that really mattered was Audrey the Venus fly trap.

[crimsxnrebellion-blog]

Soul Mate

[After a long vacation, I finally got to my second entry for DantexLady Week (month)! And it’s Christmas themed! Hope you enjoy!]

Lady pushed the stepladder past the front door, her arms overflowing with garland and strings of multicolored lights. She hummed alone to “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” as it played from her phone in her back pocket. She only had one more section of the office to cover with the garland before she could finally move on to her favorite part of decorating: the Christmas tree. She had a ton of ornaments (even after decorating her own in her apartment) from years of collecting them, and she loved hanging them from the pine branches and between the twinkling lights. Climbing up to place the star on top.

It had taken days to convince Dante to allow her to decorate the shop. Unlike Lady, who loved the holiday season despite her past, the half demon hated Christmas. Most holidays, she had come to find. They reminded him of the family he lost, and he just preferred to not celebrate them as much as he could. He would indulge Lady and Trish once in a while with dinner together and gift swapping, but this was the furthest he had ever allowed for the celebration. She didn’t know if it was the promise of lowering his debt a smidge, a week of pizza on her, and a few bottles of his favorite whiskey that finally convinced him, or if he just tired of her begging and constant nagging about how the festive decorations would bring in more clients had finally worn him down. Either way, she was happy with the outcome, even if it would cost her a bit of money. It would help Dante in the long run as well, make him a little bit less of a grump during the season.

“You know, Patty will really like this, too,” she said as she mounted the stepladder. Reaching all the way through her fingertips and shifting to her tiptoes, she hung the first bit of garland. She could feel Dante’s gaze on her back—most likely her backside—as she stretched on the rickety ladder, though she knew it was for more than simply appeasing his perverted nature; he was making sure she didn’t fall. She knew asking him to help was out of the question, and he hadn’t offered either. But, she knew he wouldn’t let her get hurt. “Christmas is her favorite, if I remember right.”

“As long as it ain’t pink and frilly shit like she pulled when she first came around, I’ll live with it,” Dante responded. Lady heard the squeak of rubber as he shifted on the couch, the rustle of the pages as he rifled through his magazine. “But don’t start thinking I’m thrilled with this. It’s all pointless to me.”

Lady rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You seemed to be into the season when you were chasing me around with mistletoe, jackass,” she shot back. She had had to hide it to keep him from trying anything funny with it. The threat of making him wear a Santa suit nipped that in the bud quick, at least. “Can’t you just enjoy it? A little? And not by getting shit faced so you don’t remember or really enjoy it anyway?”

When she received no more response than a grunt, Lady returned back to her work. As she twisted the lights into the perfect position around the garland, she was reminded of decorating their home when she was a kid. Her mother had loved the holiday season. From Thanksgiving to New Years, the house was full of the sounds and smells of the season and decorated from top to bottom, inside and out, with lights, garland, tinsel, fake snow and, her favorite, the giant evergreen that glowed in their dining room. She remembered baking all sorts of cakes and cookies with her mom, decorating them with candy and icing. She could feel the warmth of the fireplace as they read stories together, Kalina Ann doing voices for each of the holiday characters.  

Then her mind wandered to what she wished she had. Her own kids to bake and sing and read with in a cozy home. She wanted to decorate a tree with her kids, curl up on the couch with and watch as the children played with their new toys.  

She paused at the last thought, bicolored eyes drifting to the man sprawled across the couch. Though she had spent years trying to deny it, Lady could never squelch her feelings for her fellow devil hunter. They had discussed their feelings on relationships before (even though she refused to let him know it was him she pined for), and they both agreed that their lifestyle was far too dangerous for any serious relationships. Thus, they both kept things casual. Dante moreso than herself, much to her chagrin.  

Lady knew their connection was deeper. It had been fate that they met. They were meant for each other. But, she knew if she ever said anything, Dante would turn her down. She could respect how he felt; it was reasonable because he had a target on his back due to his heritage, and demons with a beef would use someone he loved to their advantage. That didn’t stop her heart burning with a desire to change his mind. To find out if he even felt the same about her.

Lady chewed her lip as she twisted a blue bulb between her fingers. The strand flickered on and off. “Hey, Dante?”

“Yeah?” She heard him sit up, leather crunching underneath him.  

“Do you believe in soul mates?”

She refused to look and kept busy, but she heard him chuckle. “What? You tellin’ me you got a crush on me?”

Lady’s cheeks heated up in a fierce blush. “No!” she asserted, a little too quickly. “Don’t be stupid. It’s a serious question.”

A long silence fell between them, one that made Lady squirm inwardly. Her fingers worked faster and fumbled with the hooks. She just couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Now he knew exactly what she was getting at and their whole relationship, their whole dynamic, would suffer.

She hung the last bit of garland. “Sorry...” she muttered, descending her stepladder as fast as she could without toppling backward. It took everything in her not to sprint out the door without her things. Ditch before things got worse. “I’ll just leave the tree for you, or maybe Patty if she wants to--”

“Wait.”

Lady closed her eyes and cursed under her breath. He really couldn’t just let her leave? Pretend she had never asked?

She turned to face him. The amusement at her expense she expected to see in his eyes was absent. His expression was thoughtful. It slowed the beating of her heart a fraction, but her palms were still clammy with sweat.  

Dante stood and crossed the room to her, boots thudding on the wood floor. He stopped in front of her. Normally, his height didn’t bother her. But, now, as he towered over her, she felt like an ant that he was ready to step on. She tilted her head back to meet his gaze. Those beautiful, ice blue eyes she had gazed into many times, both in real life and in her dreams. In fact, a few of the steamier ones had started quite like this and...no, she couldn’t let her mind wander there. God, she was as bad as Dante!

“I dunno about soul mates. That all sounds like a fairy tale to me. And my life is the furthest thing from that.” Dante paused, and Lady could see him trying to work out the right words. He threaded his fingers through his white locks a muttered a few curses under his breath. Just when she wanted to shout at him to get on with him, he spoke again.  

“I do know that I don’t know where I'd be if I hadn’t met you.” A smile worked its way onto his lips and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was a mess before what happened with Verg, and if you hadn’t been here I may have just...you know.”

“Dante, don’t say that.” Lady grabbed his hand and squeezed it. She knew how hard it was. For both of them. It wasn’t that she didn’t get it; she felt much the same about him. Had he not been there to preoccupy her and keep her company when she needed it most, she might have ended it all herself. Even if they would never be more than business partners or friends as a suppressed part of her hoped, Dante had become something like family. She knew he would be there for her when she needed someone, and she would do the same for him.

“It’s the truth though,” he said, resting his hands on her shoulders. “I had no real direction back then. Yeah, I had sorta started the business, but you really helped me get it goin’. You’ve done a lot for me, Lady. I dunno if that means you’re my soul mate, but I know I don’t want to be without you in my life.”

A lump formed in Lady’s throat and tears stung her eyes. So, it wasn’t an admission of love but for Dante, she figured that was as close as she would get for now. She bit her lip and flung her arms around his neck, shifting onto her tiptoes to hug him. His chest rumbled as he chuckled and returned her embrace.

“I don’t want to be without you either, Dante. Couldn’t.”

Dante held her a bit longer, and just when his heat about put her to sleep in his arms, he pulled away. “And you won’t be. For as long as I can help it.” He raised her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. “Now, how about we get this tree put up? It’s your favorite part of all this, isn’t it?”

Lady nodded, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “Yeah. Just make sure you don’t mess it up, okay?”

[alchemistc]

no paper will conceal it

an: if you thought i would fall into the hole of writing holiday fic for kastle, you were right. title comes from sara bareilles song “love is christmas”. 

slightly au in that frank doesn’t kill people, but almost everything else is the same

It’s a terrible idea to chase this story, she knows it even as she leaves her office and heads towards the previously empty lot five blocks from her apartment, the one that had suddenly sprouted a hundred Christmas trees sometime between the hours of 1 AM and 4 AM the morning after Thanksgiving. 

Karen doesn’t sleep, much.

It’s been a week, and in that time she’s seen a trail of young looking men hustle nervously towards the lot, disappear into the trees for a bit, and then appear later with heavy, dark duffels under their arms, looking shifty as they disappear into the night. She’s also seen the frankly ridiculously suspicious black van that tends to park there sometime between 4 and 6, and only ever leaves after Karen has gone to bed, long after the one sad string of fairy lights has been turned off and families shopping for trees have tucked in for the evening.

And then there’s the guy.

Still. He’s there, and there’s something going on, and Karen is determined to figure out what it is. The lot has been empty for years, never been used by anyone but a few addicts too strung out to realize it was visible from every direction. A year ago she’d tried to talk to someone about putting a park in there, or maybe start a garden, but she’d been shot down before she’d even made it through her speech, and she hadn’t tried again.

And now, after all this time, suddenly there’s Balsams and Firs and Blue Spruces and more than likely a crime ring, too. 

She’d told Ellison she was taking a long lunch to get a tree for her apartment, and the asshole had blinked at her, narrowed his eyes, and then sighed and shrugged. Like he believed her. Like it was believable that Karen Page, who practically lived at the paper and who only spared time for drinks with her friends once every few months and who hadn’t spoken to her parents in half a year was suddenly feeling the Christmas spirit.

What she hadn’t told Ellison was “I think a dude with a creepy van is hustling drugs out of the Christmas tree lot by my apartment” because even to Karen that sounded like a crazy reach.

She stops for coffee at the bodega on the corner just to give herself something to do with her hands, and watches the lot while she rips open packets of sugar. 

It’s strange, the way she’s able to watch the swath of humanity pass her by without ever feeling...close to it. She’s been called a bleeding heart more times in her life than she can count, but it’s not that. She’s... perceptive. She sees things. She sees the family rounding the corner, two kids playfully shoving at each other while their parents watch in stony silence, standing just far enough apart that Karen is almost certain dad has been sleeping on the couch for a while. She sees the happy couple wandering by, laughing, hands clasped, and knows that the woman is far more in love than the man. She sees a man in a business suit walk past the homeless guy on the corner, his eyes on his phone and a grimace on his face. 

She sees a kid get off his bike and round the fence into the lot, disappearing between the trees, and slides in after him, waiting, wondering if it was really going to be this easy.

She wanders, for a bit, glancing through branches in hopes of catching sight of her would be drug lord or one of his minions, but no such luck. If it were easy, there would be far more people gunning for her job.

The crime beat at the Bulletin isn’t so much sought after as it is a place to stick all the idiots who can’t keep their nose out of anything. Karen, for all that she loves this job, hadn’t actually gone looking for it. She’d stumbled upon it, like most of the idiots who’d come before her, and she lived it and she breathed it but it wasn’t... healthy. She’d chase a lead on two hours of sleep and a vat of caffeine, if she had to, and she’d met more than one source late at night: in empty warehouses, in derelict buildings, in dark parking garages, once on a build site, two floors up and a steel beam between her and a twenty foot drop. And she’d done it all in heels. 

Foggy is constantly terrified for her life, but then, so is Karen, and it hasn’t stopped her yet, so she doesn’t expect to be making any concessions for the one friend she still trusts in this city any time soon.

There’s a sort of calm that comes over her, wandering through the trees, her eyes carefully cataloging every face she sees, but it’s not the magic of the season. This is a different sort of peace - the kind that washes over her when she makes a connection no one has made before, when she sends off a final draft to copy, when her byline sends the feds to a piece of shit they hadn’t bothered to check on before. There’s comfort in knowing that her words mean something, in knowing that she can make things happen in a world that mostly just tries to ignore the bad shit that goes on around them every day.

As she’s nearing the back of the lot, she catches the break she’s been looking for. Just beyond the last row of trees, behind the fence they’re leaned against, she hears a door slide open, and a gruff voice mutter something she can’t quite catch. 

Karen shuffles closer, to the edge of the lot, ignoring the needles digging into her jacket sleeve, straining to hear what’s being said.

“...better hear you made it to Curt’s tonight, James. I’m not fucking around here, giving handouts.”

“Dude, I got it. Lay off the drill sergeant crap, Castle.”

Karen waits with bated breath. That’s two names, and if she can just lay low long enough to get a plate number off the van...

“You’re gettin a second chance kid. Don’t screw it up.”

“Jesus Christ, man, I said I got it.”

There’s a shuffle, and a small puff of breath, like it’s been knocked out of someone. The first voice, Castle, says something too low for her to hear, but if she had to make a guess, she’s betting a threat is involved. Another shuffle of clothing, the sound of boots on concrete, and then Castle speaks again, loud and clear and barely a yard from where she stands. 

“Get out of here before you really piss me off.”

The kid books it, and through the branches she can see the duffel tucked under his arm, but the gate behind her is creaking open and Karen busies herself with looking like a normal, perusing customer. 

“Don’t strike me as the Douglas Fir type, ma’am.” Karen swivels in place, nearly sending her coffee flying as her hand drops towards her bag. Castle takes a step back, hands raised. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but there’s a tic in his jaw like he’s thinking about smiling, and Karen takes her first good look at him. 

The twelve-times-broken nose she’d caught in profile is more striking up close, an interesting quirk to what might otherwise be a fairly unremarkable face. He’s holding her gaze, big brown eyes blown wide as he slowly lowers his hands back to his sides. He’s got a vaguely military haircut - buzzed sides and an inch or so of growth on the top of his head, and a wide, full mouth that is still threatening to break into a smile. 

He doesn’t look like he smiles much, in general, but there’s amusement in his gaze as he takes her in, eyes tracking the fall of her hair over one shoulder and the way her hand is dipped into her pocketbook. He quirks a brow at that. 

“You gonna shoot me?”

Karen blinks. “What?”

Castle blinks back, running his tongue over his teeth as he eyes the hand in her bag very deliberately. “Christ, lady, please tell me you have a permit for that.”

“Why would I need a permit for a handbag?”

He sighs, blows a deep breath out through his nose, and rolls his eyes at her, turning his head away with a shake. “Right. Nothing to see here, folks,” he says with an ironic lilt, gesturing around like they aren’t the only two people in the back half of the lot. “You here for a tree or what?”

The amusement is gone from his voice, and Karen narrows her eyes at him, tucks her tongue into her cheek as he purses his lips right back at her. “I can see why you don’t sell the trees yourself.”

“You make it a habit to stake out a place before you buy something?” 

Karen pulls in a deep breath, tries not to look caught out, but he’s eyeing her more closely, now, something like recognition registering as he stares at her. He takes a step closer, shooting a daring look at the hand still tucked in her bag. 

In a situation like this, most people would bolt in the opposite direction and never return. In the back of her mind, Foggy’s voice is screaming at her to do just that. Karen ignores it and rolls her shoulders back, staying even with his height as he gets closer. 

“Page, right? You’re the Bulletin’s golden girl.” 

There’s derision in his voice when he says it, his voice rumbling over golden like a swear word, and Karen goes on the defensive. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Whatever you want it to mean.”

“Whatever I want it to - you know, you have a lot of nerve, for a guy who recruits kids to sell for him out of the back of a sketchy van and sells Christmas trees as a cover.”

Castle blinks again, and Karen takes a moment to reassess. This is hardly the first time she’s accused someone of something before she has all the evidence she needs. Some of them have even been bigger and scarier than this guy, but there’s something about the way he shifts from foot to foot, something about the way his eyes drag deep into her skin and dig at her spine, something about the way he’d known about the gun in her bag the moment she’d turned towards him that makes her think that maybe this is one of her more stupid decisions. 

The deep chuckle that rumbles from his chest is both unexpected and... comforting. Despite every instinct she has, despite having spent the last week suspecting this man of running drugs out of the back of his sketchy van, Karen feels her guard drop. “You’re fucking crazy, ma’am,” is what he says when he’s done shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “Jesus, you came out here trying to catch a lead on me, didn’t you? You do that a lot? Chase after a story, no backup, not having a damn clue how dangerous someone could be?” Another quick glance at her, and he snorts. “Yeah you do.”

Again, another sad fact of her life is that this is a conversation she’s had in various forms before, but this one is different, somehow. There’s not a hint of threat in his voice, just a vague disbelief, and maybe a hint of regard.

“I work with vets,” he admits, softly, like it’s a secret. “Boys come back without a clue what the hell they’re gonna do now. Lot of ‘em end up barely scraping by, or living on the streets. I uh... buddy of mine runs a couple groups, rents out rooms sometimes.” He ducks his head, bashful now, and runs his hand through his hair again, a nervous tic that five minutes ago she would have assumed was due to him testing out his supply. “I do laundry, when I can. Put together food, and shit. Give ‘em work, try to get them back in the world.”

Karen pulls at her lips with her teeth, raises the hand from her pocketbook to presses it over her lips, and nods her head even as a disbelieving laugh bubbles over. “And that kid, earlier? You were...?”

“Some of ‘em need a little tough love. I assume that’s what you mean. ‘Cause you were listening to us, right?”

Karen tilts her head, suddenly, achingly curious about this man for an entirely new reason. “Yeah. Yeah, I was listening.”

He chuckles, his head shaking back and forth, mutters something under his breath that sounds a whole lot like ‘unbelievable’ and Karen tracks the way his cheeks lift, the way he shifts, again, like maybe he’s thinking of just turning around and walking away. When he lifts his head again to meet her gaze, the smile is still there, and it’s reaching his eyes, too. 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Karen stills where she stands, watching his head tilt, something shy and somber behind the smile he wears, something charming about the way he looks at her from beneath his brows. “I just falsely accused you of drug running, and you want to buy me a drink?”

“You got a few screws loose, sure, but you’ve got balls of steel, ma’am.”

Karen is fairly certain she’s never been called ma’am by anyone in her entire life, and she’s never particularly cared for the address, but something about the way his voice rolls over it, gravel and soot rumbling from him - something about it sets her at ease. “It’s the middle of the day.”

“Is that a no?”

“No.”

He chucks his chin up, tilts his head again. “Okay.”

Karen holds his gaze, gives him a crisp nod. “Okay.”

------

“You’re good at this. I can see why the Bulletin keeps you around.” He’s pointing at her with a fry dipped in ketchup, his beer tipped towards his lips with his free hand, and Karen brushes back the curtain of hair that keeps falling into her eyes. 

“What do you mean?”

“Page, we’ve been here an hour and I think you know more about me than my old lady ever did. Hell, if we’d had you in intelligence, interrogation might have fucking worked.”

Karen ducks back beneath the curtain of hair and checks the time on her phone. She’s got a missed phone call from Ellison, and a text that is just two question marks - she shoots back a quick ‘Following a lead’ and doesn’t even feel that bad about the lie. It could be a piece, if she wanted it to be - a profile on a war veteran, a think piece on the lives soldiers lead once they return, it could be any number of things, if she wanted it to be.

She doesn’t want it to be.  

Frank Castle, former marine, honorably discharged after a bullet tore through his skull. Friendly fire, he’d said, though the tone of his voice said there was more to that story. His wife had died of cancer a year after he got home, and Frank had gone off the deep end, just a bit, drinking heavily, starting bar fights (”Isn’t that a felony?” “Sure is,” he’d responded on a self deprecating grin.), generally kicking up a fuss, and he’d lost custody of two kids, a boy and a girl who lived upstate with their grandparents and saw him on weekends and every other holiday. 

He’d started going to his friend Curtis’ group meetings after his court appointed therapist told him if he couldn’t get his shit together he’d never see them again.

“I have a trustworthy face.”

He snorts, his nose wrinkling as he takes a sip of his beer, and Karen bites her lip to keep from smiling too hard. 

Outside, the sun is already low in the sky, and the buildings cast the streets in deep shadow. In an hour or so, lights across the city will twinkle to life, bathing the streets in that warm glow that only happens around the holidays. Once upon a time, Karen had loved Christmas - the lights, the families, the overwhelming sense of community they’d had in their tiny little town in Vermont. 

“You uh... you doin’ okay there?”

Darting her glance back towards him with a start, Karen starts to nod, and pauses, looking at him in the dull light of the bar. She bites her lip and shakes her head, just once, picking at the label on her bottle. “My brother ran his car off the road two days before Christmas, a few years ago. I uh... it’s hard to get into the spirit anymore, you know? I used to love it. Decorating the tree, driving around the neighborhood to see the lights, going to church on Christmas Eve. I’d wake up early every Christmas morning, even when I got older, and I’d make hot chocolate and sit on the couch with my mug, waiting for everyone else to wake up, just watching the tree.” Blinking through watery eyes, she shoots him a quick smile. "I was a Blue Spruce girl.”

“Maria always took the kids up to cut their own tree. Every time I was home for Christmas, I’d beg her to just get a damn plastic tree. Damn things always got sap and needles everywhere - huge fire hazard too, and I know Frankie and Lisa never watered ‘em. Said she liked the smell, so one year I bought a fake tree and about twenty of those Christmas tree candles.”

“It’s not the same,” she tells him, almost admonishing, and he laughs. His laugh a short, quick laugh, a little rough around the edges like he’s not used to it, like it has to fight his way up and out of his chest.

“That’s what she said. Never even took the thing out of the box. We were up there, very next day, sawing down a tree while Lisa threw snowballs at us.”

“So the trees...”

His head tilts in consideration before he gives her a sharp nod. “They tell me it’s a healthier way to mourn than breaking my knuckles on strangers faces.”

“If I promise to water it, can I get you to tough love one of your guys into lugging a tree five blocks and up three flights of stairs?”

His stare is a little wistful as he takes her in, but there’s an edge to it, too. Something careful, and considering, and not for the first time since he’d startled her that afternoon Karen wonders what he sees, when he looks at her. Not the broken girl who’d left her family behind because she couldn’t face her loss, not the hardass reporter who always got her story regardless of the cost. A few times she’s held his gaze long enough to feel like he’s staring into her soul.

Karen shrugs around his questioning look. “Maybe I need to learn to mourn a little better, too.”

------

Frank ends up loading a tree onto the van a week later, grumbling the entire way up the stairs, muttering about sap all the way down the hallway, and Karen can’t help the laugh that tumbles out of her when he insists on getting the thing set up for her once it’s there. She’d gone down to Macy’s, dropped far too much of her paycheck on string lights and baubles, and she unloads them while he grunts and curses in the corner by her window. 

When she invites him to stay for dinner he only hesitates for a few seconds, and then insists on paying the kid who delivers a bag of Thai food twenty minutes later. 

It’s easy, toeing off her shoes and settling on her couch next to him, flipping through channels until one of them makes a noise of approval around the food in their mouths. He drinks her shitty rose out of a mug with a llama on it, and makes sarcastic comments under his breath that sometimes make her wheeze with laughter, and when they’ve demolished the food he helps her string the lights around the tree. 

“Maria’s parent’s have the kids for Christmas this year,” he admits on his third mug of wine, and Karen reaches across the length of the tree to curl her hand in his. He squeezes back, and for a while the string of lights illuminate their faces as they stare at each other. He’s got a scar, just above his ear, one she hadn’t noticed until the lights hit it just right, and without a thought her hand reaches up to trace it, fingers curling up and then around his ear, and his eyes dip low, almost closing, lashes fluttering and casting sharp shadows along his cheeks. 

“You could come here. I usually get shitfaced the moment I get off the phone with my mom and pass out to It’s A Wonderful Life.”

“Sounds pretty fuckin maudlin,” he tells her, eyes fluttering back open, back she doesn’t move her hand, and he tilts his face into her palm. 

She’s three glasses in herself, and her laughter sounds loud in her apartment, the heady mixture of food and wine and lights and Frank making her feel bubbly and loose and... happy. “Maudlin?”

“I know words.”

She chuckles, again, and leans across the space between them, ducks her forehead against his own and just breathes for a moment.

“Is that a no?”

From this position, she can see the tilt of his lip as it turns up. “No.”

Karen blows a breath out through her nose, slides her hand down to curl around his neck, where she can feel his pulse rushing beneath his skin. “Okay.”

“Okay.” 

------

She pitches Ellison a profile on Curtis Hoyle, two hours after she meets him on Christmas Eve, and over the phone she can hear him raise his eyebrows. “Not your usual thing.”

“I’m branching out, Ellison. Aren’t you always telling me to dig deep?”

“Draft on my desk by the end of the week, then.”

“Can’t,” she tells him, while Frank traces a whimsical pattern up her arm and presses his lips into her neck. “I’m busy this week.”

“What have you done to Karen Page?”

“It’s a...family thing,” she tells him, and sucks in a deep breath when Frank nips at her collarbone.

“Heading to Vermont for the week?”

“Nope.”

“Well this is all very confusing and I’ve had too much scotch to make sense of it, but I’ll figure this out eventually. I’ll see you after New Years.”

“Merry Christmas, Mitch.” For the first time in years, the words are slightly more than a platitude meant to appease the masses.

“Merry Christmas, Page.”

Frank drops her phone off the side of the couch the moment she hangs up, and Karen can’t find it in her to mind.