#i saved all the wrapping paper from the presents i got for christmas because i wanted to stick it on my journal

[wintaebear]

.

[rafesangelita]

reader wrapping herself up like a little present and rafe unwrapping her <3

warnings: fluff, suggestive ending

a/n: i feel like i’ve seen this be a trend before on tiktok?? idk but this req is so cute <33 ty anon!

you don’t know why your boyfriend insisted on you never getting anything for him when it came to special occasions like his birthday or christmas. of course, you never listened to him when it came down to it, always surprising him with a new watch or something you know he’ll never buy for himself like a new gadget he’s been talking about, or god forbid some actual skincare. you two had been discussing who’s house both of you will be at for the holidays when you asked him what he wanted for christmas this year.

“okay, so i’m thinking we go to your mom’s house for thanksgiving because rose can’t cook to save her life, and then we could go to tanneyhill for christmas, how does that sound?” you laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you rested your chin in the curve of his neck. “that’s not a bad idea. oh! i could tell my mom to make the ham just the way you like it..” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, making him hum. “oh my god, with her homemade glaze?” he turned in his chair, pulling you on top of his lap as you nodded.

“mhmm.” rafe smiled down at you as stroked the side of his face. “speaking of christmas though..” you trailed off, “why don’t you ever tell me what you want!” rafe sighed, resting a hand on your thigh as you pouted up at him. “i love giving you gifts and you never want any.” it was ironic, really. girlfriend whose love language was gift giving, and boyfriend who had a hard time accepting anything.. a match made in retail hell. “it’s not that i don’t want it, babe, i just prefer buying you gifts instead.” you shook your head, a giggle falling from your lips.

“you buy me ‘gifts’ year round though, ray.” rafe looked at you for a moment. “you really want to gift me something?” he asked. you nodded frantically, feeling a sense of relief now that you got through to him, or so you thought. “just be waiting for me when i come back home,” he winked, “that’s my gift.” despite it not being the words you wanted to hear, you’d never turn him down. letting out a deep sigh, you pressed a kiss to his lips. “fine.” rafe pulled you back down on his lap before you could walk away.

“i mean it. you’re the only thing i want.” he whispered against your skin, a shiver running down your spine when you felt his hand on the small of your back. “well, i guess you better hurry up and do what you have to do with your dad before i decide not to give you anything at all.” rafe watched you get up, your hips swaying as you made your way upstairs. while he was off working out some business, you sat on your shared bed, trying to think of what lingerie you should surprise him with.

eyes skimming past the wrapping paper in the corner of the room, it was as if a light bulb went off in your head. if rafe said you were the only gift he wanted, surely you’d have him unwrap you like one.. right? before you could get any second thoughts, you quickly undressed and got to wrapping the paper around the curves of your body. you couldn’t lie, you felt just a little bit ridiculous putting a bow in your hair while you practically crinkled with every step you took. waiting for rafe to walk through the door was easier said than done.

you paced around your room, increasingly feeling dumb as you walked around in circles. “this is silly..” you muttered, about to rip the paper yourself before you heard the door shut downstairs. “i hope you’re ready!” you panicked slightly, not knowing what to do with your hands before clasping them behind your back. rafe walked in, his eyes landing on your awkward little getup before a smile took over his lips. “what’s this?” he laughed, taking a seat at the edge of the bed before pulling you close to him.

you stood between his thighs, resting your hands on top of his shoulders. “unwrap me.” rafe took his bottom lip between his teeth, stroking the exposed skin of your hips. “you don’t happen to be naked, do you?” he pressed a kiss to your navel, his large palms sliding down the backs of your thighs. you shivered at his words, shrugging coyly. “you’ll just have to find out..” rafe stood up, towering over you as he slowly tore the thin sheet of paper, revealing your bare form underneath. “oh, this is great, baby.” he stroked your skin.

rafe guided you two over to the full body mirror in the corner of your room, your head rolling back against his chest when he cupped your aching cunt. “best gift ever.”

[butchreg]

cg ! ambessa medarda with little ! reader during the holidays !!

requested by anon ! really frustrated as i wrote this all out and then accidentally deleted it so ghrhggrggrr... i'm probably forgetting something because of losing all of what i had but :C.. i did my best. i really hope ambessa is not too ooc , honestly i don't have a ton of cg ambessa thoughts but anon was very sweet and i never posted anything for the holidays so here ya go ! ^_^ ambessa is so cool i would love for her to be my cg. as for the holiday i did christmas as that's what i celebrate and am most familiar with .. i hope that's okay. （．＿．） arcane masterlist here , upcoming list here

cg ! ambessa who carefully wraps each of your presents by hand in proper thick wrapping paper patterned in plaid of the colors of the medarda house. her wrapping is perfect , so perfect that if you didn't know any better you'd think it was done by magic or by some kind of machine.

cg ! ambessa who scrawls "for the kit" in her elegant script on each little gift tag , adding crude drawings of a fox kit on some , a bear cub on others , her attempt to depict you.

cg ! ambessa who knows how badly you want to wake up early on christmas morning and wakes up at an ungodly hour before you do so that she has time to brew her morning coffee and be settled when you come in. you burst into her quarters , expecting her to be fast asleep , for her to lazily wave you away perhaps , only for you to find her smirking at you , sipping her coffee waiting for you.

cg ! ambessa who stops you from running down the halls to the common room full of gifts with a firm hand on your shoulder. "ah ah. now kit , the gifts will be there. we're in no rush." you grumble in protest and she laughs a deep throaty laugh. "come , kit. you must learn patience."

cg ! ambessa who slowly and carefully unwraps each gift , hushing you when you grow impatient , chuckling at your eagerness. she's certain not to rip any paper , a sharp contrast to you who tears open each package at lightning speed.

cg ! ambessa who makes you clean up your discarded wrapping paper as you go , scolding you when you fuss. she remains a firm caregiver with strict rules but praises you when you cooperate.

cg ! ambessa who makes sure you say your thank yous. she tuts disapprovingly when you reach for another present without remembering your manners. "now , cub. what do we say ?" she reminds you gently but firmly , raising her eyebrow at you.

cg ! ambessa who spoils you absolutely rotten , beaming as she sits back to watch you unwrap each gift. she has you make a list of everyone who got you something along with what it was for thank you cards but those you'll save for another day in the near future. today you want to play with all your wonderful new toys !! cg ! ambessa who happily obliges at your request , playing with you for the rest of the day.

cg ! ambessa who surprises you with one last gift after you've tuckered yourself out — two sets of christmas pajamas , one for you and one for her. you squeal with delight at this , quickly changing into them , turning your back so she can do the same. she tucks you in , kissing your forehead. "good night , my little cub. merry christmas."

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

There's a present under the Christmas tree that wasn't there two hours ago. 

It makes Tommy stand stiff as a poker in the doorway of his own living room, his mind full of possible break-in scenarios. However, the typical signs are missing. No ripped-out drawers, no shattered glass; and what burglar would bring instead of taking something? The somewhat sad little tree, which Tommy didn't actually want to put up in the first place but then did because it's Christmas after all, seems to shine a little brighter thanks to the present. 

Carefully, he approaches the tree under whose green branches the box lies. Its red wrapping, decorated with little Christmas trees, is reflected in the equally red and shiny Christmas baubles. Of course, there’s only one way to how the present got under the tree, only one person who’d be able to do it. Buck still has a key to Tommy's house. He hasn't been in touch since the break-up, and Tommy has missed the perfect time where you presumably ask for the things that the other person still has in their possession. 

The little red box bears Evan’s signature so much, it hurts. It is not particularly carefully packaged, although you can see he's made an effort. Instead of just buying a box, he has wrapped whatever is in the parcel in wrapping paper. It’s wrinkled, the small trees on it are uneven. Tommy can almost see it: Evan sitting at his kitchen table, his tongue between his half-open lips, concentrated in a tangle of adhesive tape. A man with such skillful hands, yet he simply can’t coordinate them. Hands that save lives but fail when cutting paper. Opposites that are downright confusing - and yet so attractive. 

Tommy lets out a sigh that echoes off the walls of his room, as if his own house is mocking him for his self-inflicted loneliness. He holds the small gift in his hands and wonders whether he should really open it. What’s the intention behind it? Why give him a present? The truth is, Evan had gifted him with his mere presence, probably without even knowing it. Getting that back would be a far greater gift than whatever may be in this box. 

The only problem is that he believes he doesn't deserve either. 

Tommy carefully pulls on the adhesive strip, runs a finger beneath the paper and very gently removes it. There is a plain white box underneath. Maybe it was a spontaneous idea to wrap it, but then why go to all the trouble for an undertaking that Evan also knows he hardly has mastered? Tommy's thoughts are on a rollercoaster, a constant up and down, and every steep descent causes tingles in his guts. 

Tommy shakes the box. There’s a soft tinkling sound inside, metal scraping against the cardboard of the box. He turns the box over in his hands, looks at it from all sides, but he is only delaying the inevitable, and he knows it. Opening the lid feels like tearing off a band-aid. Inside is a folded note on a layer of tissue, as green as the little trees on the wrapping paper, but not as green as the branches of  Tommy’s Christmas tree. Green as hope, maybe. 

Tommy,

I still see a future. E. 

Tommy stares at the note, his eyes actually looking right through it, far away; back to a time perhaps when he was less afraid. His fingers carefully feel their way over the tissue in the box. There’s still time to put aside the message, the box, the hope. Maybe he's too much of a coward for that, too. Tommy reaches under the paper, lifts it out of the box and tosses it aside. It gently slides under the tree, almost exactly where the present was. A sign, or not; everything is a sign or it isn’t. 

There’s a key in the box.

That’s not the key to Tommy’s house. Even if it would have been a weird way to return it like this, his deceptive heart feared just that for a moment. But it's also not the key to Evans Loft, because Tommy didn't give it back either. Silly, that they both had clung to this symbols so much. So, it’s neither his key nor Evan’s, and it only takes a quickening heartbeat longer for Tommy to realize. It really is a symbol, this key. One that not only relies on Tommy's curiosity, but also trusts that he will rise to the occasion. 

Suddenly, his phone is in his hands.

This the key to your heart, Evan? 

Bating his breath, he’s waiting for an answer.  

[ghost-proofbaby]

Something my family always did was qe would open presents very carefully because we had to reuse wrapping paper (we were poor) and reuse bows. We didn't get much st Christmas but it always meant something to me as a kid. There were times my parents got nothing just so me and my sister could have something.

I can see Eddie being raised the same by Wayne

i absolutely agree with this. it was harder in my household since we always bought such cheap paper that ripped if we even breathed on it, but bows? always reuse. name tags? save them. any sort of gift bags? don't even think about throwing those away.

and i just... it's nice to think about Eddie being raised that way as well? like a sense of comfort in knowing he wouldn't give us a weird glance when we still do it, even if now we're not in the same position of necessity.

also, i can so clearly picture the first christmas where wayne does this, only his second christmas with eddie. and he's just downright scared. which is weird, because why is the weight in his chest turning so heavy at the thought of letting his nephew down? just this thirteen year old boy who's gone through hell, whose standards might just be six feet under. but it's all he can think about, all he can worry about, as he's wrapping up that damn guitar so carefully. eddie's only gift that year - the only item he'd even brought up in the last six months. and wayne had spent his entire check on it, no room left for frivolous wrapping or shiny new bows. wayne is reusing last year's paper, using an insane amount of tape he'd borrowed from a neighbor to patch up any and all tears his shaking hands make in his rush to wrap the guitar in time.

and you know what? eddie would notice.

make a small comment, saying "is this last year's paper?". and i can feel wayne's heart dropping as he waits for eddie to be upset but then the boy does this easy thing, something wayne watches him do many more times over the years, where he turns it into something positive.

"sick," he'd say, with a toothy grin and buzzed head, eyes genuinely shining as he looks up at wayne, "this paper is sick. i'm so glad you found it again this year."

wayne doesn't have to tell him to carefully unwrap the gift. because eddie wasn't stupid at thirteen, and he knew had to still his shaking hands just long enough to not leave a single extra tear in that paper, just in case wayne needs it next year. he doesn't mind - he's just glad to be celebrating the holidays again with someone who cares.

but it's all over when eddie sees that guitar. wayne expected shrieking or yelping or just... he doesn't really know, just anything. but all he sees is some kid with hair that's a little bit longer this year, shoulders a little less slumped, and tears pouring down.

"son-" he'd start, not even sure how to comfort the boy but needing to.

eddie does the last thing wayne had expected. the boy had been distant since showing up at the trailer, keeping to himself quite a bit, flinching away from touch. but for the first time in over a year, eddie doesn't flinch away.

he launches himself at wayne.

hugs him through his tears, just babbling out his thanks on repeat. they both agree to never talk about it again after the tears dry, and wayne even sheds a few of his own. but something melts that night for them - jokes happen easier, awkward side hugs and messing of eddie's blooming curls as wayne leaves for his shifts are more frequent. every damn day he hears him playing on that damn guitar, even without an amp. the next christmas wayne gets him the amp, another lonely present, wrapped in the same paper (probably for the final time -- it's seen far better days and he's pretty sure eddie could see the gift through one of the torn corners two days before christmas even came) and eddie once again makes a comment about how lucky it is wayne can still find that paper in stores. they both know the truth, and neither really care.

eddie keeps that guitar for the rest of his days, adorned with the nickname of Sweetheart. and they keep reusing paper, both knowing it was more than some bit but deciding to make jokes all the same as if they were actively choosing to do so. it makes it all a bit easier.

eddie doesn't care if wayne never has another dime to spend on another present for him, or can ever wrap another gift. he'll take his damn christmas presents in paper bags if it came down to it, cause the love is there, and god, he had missed that.

[greatunironic]

it’s 2024, and on christmas day dustin’s eldest daughter hands him a stack of records. they’re used; he’d only asked for a new record player that year but dee wanted to do something more special than that.

“can you guess who they’re from?” she asks. dustin unties to bow, flips through the first couple records: waylon jennings, black sabbath, loretta lynn, springsteen, metallica. it’s a weird mix.

he shakes his head.

“they’re eddie’s,” says dee.

dustin feels his face go hot, his eyes prickle. he presses the records to his chest. el asks, “how did you get those?”

“uncle wayne,” says dee. “he’d saved all of them after the earthquake. he said he’s got a lot, wants to give them to you each christmas, if you’d like.”

“i would,” says dustin, hoarse. the records smell like paper and plastic, like a thrift store. he imagines he can smell a little smoke, a little weed.

later, he takes them and the record player to his office. he puts on a townes van zandt record and just stands there, listening. “close your eyes, i’ll be there in the morning,” he sings. dustin closes his eyes, wishes. it hurts less, after all these years, but it still hurts.

el comes in after a while, wraps her arms around his waist. “dee is worried you did not like her gift.”

“i loved it,” he says. “i love it. i just —“

“yes,” says el. they’re both quiet for a while. dustin had never been good at sitting in silence, until el, and she got better at liking noise. “i spoke to max; she says we should go visit him tomorrow. make a day of it, she says.”

“yeah,” he says. “that’d be nice, babe.”

el kisses him on the temple. “don’t stay up too late.”

“i won’t,” he tells her. “i’ll come to bed soon, just — a little longer. i might call steve, he’ll still be awake, i think.”

“yes,” she says again. its a good bet: west coast time zone, and severe insomnia, steve’s always good for a late night call. “i love you,” she says.

“love you,” says dustin, and goes and sits at his desk, presses his fingers along the line of his bat tattoo. he calls steve, thanks him for the kids’ present, his own. he asks about the guy steve’s been seeing, finds out they broke up a month ago after four years because the guy finally admitted he didn’t want kids. a deal breaker, for steve; dustin hates that he keeps ending up with these assholes.

eventually, he tells him about the springsteen record in eddie’s collection, makes fun of it, because he’d once had to sit through a rant about springsteen’s performative working class liberalism that he didn’t get then, and doesn’t get now either, to be honest. steve’s very quiet for a while. he says, “i think, uh. you sure that’s not wayne’s?”

“wayne gave it to me,” he says. “said it was his.”

steve makes a noncommittal noise. “well.”

“yeah,” he says.

“which one is it?”

dustin looks. “nebraska? that’s the sad one, right?”

“yeah,” says steve now. “i mean, it’s springsteen they’re all sad if you listen hard enough. or about unions. anyway. hey, bud, shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“i’m fifty two steve,” he said flatly.

he snorts, and a little of the weird tone in his voice slips away. “yeah, well, it’s still late there. go get in bed with your wife.”

“i love you,” he says, when they hang up. steve says it back, a little quieter, but he says it.

dustin changes the record. nebraska, now. he listens to bruce for a while, touches his tattoo again. then, he takes the needle off the record and goes to bed.

[presleyslilbaby]

~A Little Gift~

(70’s!Elvis X OC!)

(TW: Potential misspellings-)

(This is just a short little story I wanted to write for Christmas. I really should be resting, but I can’t rest until my brain is empty, lol-)

“Gianna,” Elvis called for his Girlfriend, grabbing her attention, though scaring her a little. “Y-Yes…?” She softly stuttered out, subconsciously pushing her glasses up, a nervous habit she’d recently developed. Sighing, Elvis sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to his side. “Angel, you’re hangin’ out alone.” He motioned around. “We got a whole Christmas party to tend to, Baby.” A guilty frown tugged at Gianna’s lips, wrapping her arms around herself instinctively. “I know…I just- You know I’m not good with people, El…” She mumbled. “A-And besides- I-I can’t really relate to any of the Guys…I’m not very fun to talk to…” “Oh, sure you are,” He patted her on the head, trying to make her feel better. “You’re heaps o’ fun to talk to. Why do ya’ think I asked you out, hm? ‘Cause you’re sweet, adorable, and you’re real silly. Don’t you let them thoughts get to ya’.”

Gianna hummed softly, leaning into Elvis’s plush body, turning more toward him to snuggle closer. “I just don’t want to embarrass myself…And besides, I don’t want to hear Joanne complaining about how I need to talk more…” Elvis frowned at that, pulling his aviators off before grabbing her jaw gently to make her look up at him. “Do not let your Sister dictate your life. If you ain’t ready to socialise jus’ yet, then you ain’t ready. I know how hard it is for you.” She smiled. “Thank you…I just feel guilty because you want to go mingle and stuff, and here I am…Keeping you here…” He shook his head, running his hand through her brown hair. “You ain’t keepin’ me here. I know I can go back out if I wanted. But I’d much rather prefer takin’ the time to make sure my best Girl’s doin’ all right.” Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss against her nose. “Because I care ‘bout you, Honey. You’re my heart, my world. I’d do anythin’ to make you feel better.” At his heartfelt confession, Gianna’s lower lip began to tremble with emotion, tears starting to gather in her eyes. She sharply inhaled, fanning her face as she made a silly sound. “Don’t say things like that! You’ll make me cry!” She partially joked, blinking rapidly. Elvis let out a laugh, the sound echoing in her ears. “Well excuse me, li’l Lady! I was just’ tryin’ to tell you that I cared!” He grinned.

“Oh-“ Suddenly standing up, Elvis quickly excused himself from moment before returning with a small, wrapped gift. “For you, Angel.” He spoke with such softness, his voice in its own feeling like a warm blanket as it reached her ears. Taking the gift from his hands, Gianna began to carefully unwrap her present, having kept the habit of not ripping the paper like a barbarian from when she was a child to save for next Christmas. Opening the small velvety box, a quiet gasp escaped her lips, and tears sprang to her eyes yet again. It was a beautiful Golden band adorned with real diamonds on top, the size and shine of the ring reflecting the expenses of the gift. “Oh, Elvis…” She gasped. “This is so gorgeous…H-How much did you spend on this…???” As much as she loved the present, she couldn’t help but worry over the price.

Elvis chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t you worry ‘bout the price, Gigi. It’s just a li’l gift I got for my Baby.” “A little gift? Elvis, this is more than just a little gift…It’s- Fuck, it’s so amazing…” Gianna watched on as he took her hand in his, then after having taken the ring out of its box, he slowly and reverently slid it on her finger. “Not as amazing as the beautiful Girl wearin’ it.” He said, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing his lips to the back of it like a Gentleman. “…I love you so much…” She whispered as a tear slipped past her eye. He gently brushed it away with his thumb. “I love you too, Cookie.” He said.

“Merry Christmas, Gianna.”

“Merry Christmas…”

[oconswrld]

! Merry (late) Christmas !

Your secret santa XoXo - Kimi Raikonnen x Reader

summary: Y/n is Kimi's favorite santa.

warnings: age gap, romance, too cute🫶, Not retired Kimi!! rawdogging(not proofread)

author's 🗒️'s: i haven't had much time for writing so i did a bit of a cutesy christmas fic for the part 2 hope its good w u guyss <33 enjoy loves!!

( Seb nd Kimi arent retired, reader is at AM with Lance!!)

part 1, part 2, ...

______

It's Christmas. Secret santa with the grid and snow. Well not snow because all of us are still in Abu Dhabi. Knowing glances exchanged after the secret santa pulling. If i remember correctly i was pulled by i think Lance. Im not sure if it really was Lance, but the canadian is a pleasure to know and is just perfect at gifts.

I pulled Kimi, the legend, and my best friend. Maybe my best friend. Knowing how he and Seb are. Obviously it's not only platonic feelings with the way he acts around me.

Thinking about presents for Kimi is rather hard, seeing he doesn't really have a thing he likes but doesn't have. I'd say alcohol but do i wanna heed into his alcoholism? A bit, but only if it means i get a gift for him.

-

The tea in front of me was cold, but the weather kept me warm. Sebastian sat opposite of me, asking for advice on what he should get for Oscar.

"What about i buy him, his gift and you buy Kimi's for me." I suggest a deal thinking of all the things i could give Oscar.

"Don't know what to buy your little boyfriend, eh Y/n?" Teasing smirk pulling on his mouth, the german dared me for an answer.

Eyes rolling into the depths of the back of my head, showing clear annoyance yet he still kept talking.

"Maybe you could finally confess to him, he's all over you whenever you're near him anyway" Sassy tone pulling out his german accent, the sentence making my jaw drop lower with every word. Catching my jaw, i shook my head. Trying to act unbothered, sipping from the lemon tea in my hand.

"Are you really this bored, that you're invested in your two best friend's love life ? Old man." I look away as i hear Kimi's voice in the distance. My head turned to see him talking to Mark Webber, possibly an interview with all those cameras around. The signature straight smile from Kimi appeared. Uncomfortable aura around him.

I nodded back to Seb only to see him already looking at me. 'What?' I silently asked him, only getting a knowing look back.

"Let's just buy those gifts before i regret even sitting here."

-

Giddy feeling in my stomach affecting my hold on the wrapped object. Looking at the usual secret santa interviewer making small talk, handing over the gift.

The wrapping contained a letter and an object Seb helped me pick. I feel kind of weird, specifically the fact that i don't know if he will like it is weird.

After half an hour, the interviewer approached me again, cameramen following close by. Small talk exchanged as she got ready for the video.

"Okay! One, two, and three, it's on!" A smiley voice came from her notifying me.

I was handed a gift box and the santa hat. Placing the hat on my head i examined the box, wrapped in pink wrapping paper which had hearts written all over it. All i gathered is that it must be one of my friends. I brought it up to my ears to shake and maybe smell.

The shaking part was unsuccessful since the box made nearly no noise, however the smell was gentle yet slightly familiar. Kimi's cologne. Versace eros eau de toilette. The one you recommended to him, because you liked it. Mint and lemon are dominant over the smell of paper.

"That's Kimi." I looked up knowingly, smiling a bit.

"Smells like him. Unless it's Seb and he's again interested in my business." Rolling my eyes, earning a snicker from the woman handling the microphone.

I start opening the paper gently, since i wanna save the heart on it. As soon as i take the top off, i see what i got. Caramel chocolate and snacks from my home country, paired with a bottle of jägermeister. Underneath these items there's a hoodie, unfolding it i see the embroidery on it.

'No. 7'

Holding it close to my nose, i smell it. Versace.

___

author's 🗒️'s: I kind of left it on a cliffhanger but im traveling 4 hours tomorrow im gonna do the end tomorrowww :PPPPP anyways cuties i hope my writing isnt a disaster im so sleepy rn its an actual nightmare...

taglist: @i-wish-this-was-me , @keii134 , @littlesatanicassholebitch <3

[callsign-venus]

Put a Bow on It | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You find out that Bradley's present-wrapping skills are... less than stellar, so it's up to you to save Christmas.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: fluff, a few very light sexual references, incompetence of a grown man, fluffy fluff fluff

a/n: Thank you for the love on my previous posts — I’m really thankful to everyone who reads my silly little stories. Hope y’all enjoy this one, Merry Christmas!

“You can’t look at me like that,” Bradley says.

“Like what?” You ask, though you know exactly what he means.

It’s not that you mean to look at him with such pity, but who can blame you?

You weren’t exactly sure how he got himself into such a mess when you were only in the kitchen making coffees. Wedged between a stack of boxed Barbies and no less than 12 rolls of wrapping paper scattered across your living room floor, Bradley looks less competent aviator and more like an unsupervised 5th grader. Tattered strips of Santa wrapping paper curl around him, scraps of tape line both of his exposed thighs, and he’s so flustered he hasn’t even removed the bright red bow you tied around his head earlier. You both look down at the lumpy present sitting on the rug in front of him. For all his efforts, it wasn’t a spectacular result. 

“You did great.” You have to hide your face with a drawn-out sip of coffee because you know if he catches a glimpse of your expression, he will call you out for your bald-faced lie.

He can tell anyway. “I’m not sure lying is the best way to get on the nice list.”

You do feel bad. It was your idea to get involved in the neighborhood toy drive, and despite his protests, you pleaded for Bradley to help.

“It will be fun,” you said before kissing his pouty lips. “I’ll make us coffees and you can light a fire and it’ll be so festive.”

“I’m sure it will be,” he cupped your face with his hands, “but I’m not lying when I say I can’t wrap a present to save my life.”

“You’ll do great.” You gave him another quick kiss and considered the matter over.

So, he didn’t do great. Could you really blame him? He tried to let you know beforehand, and it’s not like his military career was spent doing arts and crafts. You take another sip of your coffee before setting both mugs down and padding over to sit on the floor next to him.

“Am I off the wrapping duties?” He gives you a lopsided smile and slides his hand around your waist.

“You wish.” You reach over his lap and undo his wrapping job. “Get ready to learn a thing or two.”

He laughs when you use his own words against him, as you have throughout your entire relationship.

When you two weren’t yet dating – but still very much infatuated with each other – Bradley used pool as an excuse to get close to you, though no excuses were needed. You were putty in his hands already.

“Get ready to learn a thing or two,” he’d murmured in your ear. It was a Friday evening and The Hard Deck was packed, so he had to get close — mustache-ticking-your-ear close — so you could hear him over the rowdy crowd of sailors. And he was teaching you how to make a combination shot, so he had to wrap his arms around you so he could guide you through the motions. And you were a receptive student, so you had to lean against him so he could feel the curve of your ass — just so he knew his technique was working.

Now, nearly a year later on the rug of your living room, you slide up behind Bradley like he did that Friday night, your fingers gliding down his thick biceps towards his hands. They’re huge under yours, earning a laugh from both of you.

“Sweet girl, I’m not sure this is gonna work,” he says as you rest your chin on his shoulder. The curled ribbon from the bow in his hair tickles your check.

“Well, I know how to play pool thanks to this little trick. I’m sure I can use it to teach you how to wrap a present.”

You guide one of his hands toward the pair of scissors and another towards the pile of wrapping paper.

“Since I’m a great teacher, I’ll even let you pick which paper to use,” you say.

He lingers over the rolls for a moment, ultimately choosing a cranberry red paper with prints of cars carrying snow-dusted Christmas trees.

“Ok, now let’s roll it out. Look at me, Bradley.”

He pulls back a little so you can make complete eye contact. Even after months of dating, his warm brown eyes undo something in you, leaving you feeling like you’re brushing shoulders with the clouds. How did you ever get so lucky?

“It’s very important to measure the paper before cutting,” your voice softens as you drop the strict teacher act. “Put the Barbie at the edge of the wrapping paper, then you kinda fold up the other edge and see if it’s long enough.”

He takes a moment to soak you in before he can bring his attention back to the present. Up close, he can fully appreciate the graceful curve of your lips, the exact shade of your eyes. In the weepy, late morning sunlight, you are radiant.

The fire crackles in the background. The only other sound is your synchronous breathing.

You lean in slightly. “I don’t mean to ruin the moment, but I promised Cathy that we’d deliver the presents by 2, so you need to get moving.”

“You should boss me around more often.” He stares at you for a second longer before turning his attention back to the present.

You’re glad he turns around so he can’t witness the violent shade of red your face flushes — nearly as red as the wrapping paper.

Once the paper’s measured, you show him how to cut it with one swooshing glide of the scissors.

“It’s like I’m a professional,” he says.

“Don’t get too far ahead of yourself.” You squeeze his hands gently. “We’ve still got to tape this sucker up.”

He groans as you peel the scraps of tape off his thigh.

“How did you even do this to yourself?” You collect all the tape into one big wad. “You’re a grown man”

He shrugs. “I guess my mom was gone before she could teach me.”

At the mention of his mom, your heart melts. What you wouldn’t give to have her here for him, to walk him through this process he should have learned years ago. To spend another Christmas with her boy. You run your fingers through his sun-lightened locks. One night when you two first started dating, you sat on your porch alone. Under soft-falling moonlight, you promised Carole that you’d be there for her son; promised her that she and Goose could count on you to make sure he’d always be ok.

Something in Bradley’s face makes you think you were doing just fine on your promise. You can’t help the heat that rises to your checks when you catch him staring at you.

Then, with a mischievous smile, he swipes the tape wad from you, aims it, and launches it right at your face.

You try to get mad, to lecture him about the children who will be let down on Christmas morning without their Barbie doll, but the grin on his lips washes away any amount of anger you could dredge up. He wags his eyebrows and you can’t contain your laughter as it spills out of you and fills up the living room.

“You can’t be trusted with this dangerous weapon.” You grab the tape dispenser and wipe a tear from your eye. “I’ll rip the tape for you so you can just focus on folding.”

He kisses the crown of your head. “I’m actually trusted with dangerous weapons daily at work.”

You roll your eyes, but to his credit, Bradley is willing to learn. You gently guide him through the folds, but he picks it up pretty quick given that he doesn’t have to juggle the wrapping paper and the tape.

“That’s pretty good, if I do say so myself.” He holds up the present, admiring the sharp folds and the perfectly festive wrapping paper. “And I’ve got the perfect girl to thank.”

You dodge his incoming kiss, instead patting his cheek and standing up.

His brows knot in confusion before he realizes what you’ve gotten up to retrieve: a roll of velvety green ribbon.

You hold it up triumphantly. “One final touch.”

The absolute pain on his face steals the grin off yours.

You sink back down to the floor and wrap him tight in your arms, sliding your hand up his back to rub circles between his shoulders.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs against your chest, “I really don’t have that in me.”

You kiss the top of his head. If Bradley draws the line here, you’re more than happy to finish the wrapping. Hell, you’d even lace his fucking shoes if it spared him the torture of tying any more bows. You are head-over-heels for Bradley Bradshaw, and you know he knows it. It’s a good thing he’s equally head-over-heels for you.

“Ok, Bradshaw, I’ll tie the bow, but I’ll need a little help.” You break away from him and begin unspooling the ribbon. “I know your mom taught you this.”

And he smiles because he knows what’s coming.

You twist the ribbon around the package, cross-crossing it over the top. You look to him, and already he’s jumping into action. He ceremoniously raises a finger and plants it perfectly on the intersection of the ribbon.

“Perfect.” You steadily finish the bow. It’s really good, you have to admit: entirely symmetrical, huge and bouncy like a cartoon.

And then Bradley is on top of you, pulling you into his lap, smushing kisses along your jaw, working his way to your lips. His kisses are hungry, but not sinfully so. You’re hungry too. Hungry to share the rest of your lives together. To wrap presents for your kids on Christmas Eve while they pretend to be asleep down the hall. To savor early Christmas mornings in matching pajamas, sipping hot chocolate while a fire sings in the hearth. Late Christmas evenings where he pulls you into his lap on the piano bench and plays your favorite carols — a little sloppily from the spiked eggnog and having to reach around you. 

“I’m not in your way?” You would ask, already knowing his answer.

“No, you are right where you need to be.”

And he would play long into the night, celebrating the fact that he gets to spend Christmas with his sweet girl. No December 26th would pass without you waking up to find you had both lost your voices.

Your phone rings, rudely barging into your domestic dreams of the future. You’re tempted to ignore it, but Bradley accepts the call and brings it to your ear, leans his forehead against yours.

“Hey, Cathy,” you say.

“Is there any chance you can get the presents here sooner?” You and Bradley can both hear how harried the toy drive organizer sounds. “Sorry to even ask, you know I appreciate you, but some paperwork got messed up and —”

“Sure thing, don’t worry about it.” You break in to spare her the breath.

“Thank you,” she says. “And bring that sailor of yours, too. I might need help loading the truck.”

You laugh. “I’ll make sure to bring him along.”

“Thank you so much, sweetie. See ya soon.”

“See you soon.” You hang up your phone and toss it on the floor.

You peck Bradley on the check.  “Ok, ready to put those new skills to good use?”

“Ready.” He smiles and runs his hands through your hair. “Ready to do anything for you.”

You scramble out of his lap because if he keeps looking at you like that, you definitely won’t get the presents to Cathy on time.

You turn on the TV and fetch your still-steaming coffees from the table. Quickly, you and Bradley settle into an easy wrapping rhythm, the hum of a carol floating out of your TV, accompanied by the silent promise of all your Christmases — and many wrapped presents — to come.

[spiderlot]

spending christmas with the yellowjackets 💭

— just random headcanons that include the crash, postcrash, and adult timelines. in no specific order. gn!reader.

christmas in the cabin?!! they had soooo much more to worry about but like let's build a snowman guysss!!! let's cut down a tree and make wood ornaments and give gifts to each other!!! jackie asking you late at night if you think santa would come and deliver presents 😭 all waking up on whatever day you deem Christmas and having a celebration feast? :( lottie making tea for everyone, mari and you trying to make do with all the frozen berries and belts and acorns you've gathered, misty probably singing christmas songs by the fire, unwrapping presents with clothes as wrapping paper.....

the second winter you guys are so much more prepared and also so much more feral. christmas this time around would include a sacrifice for a nice dinner. shauna would disguise it as pulling cards for secret santa but you're actually about to surrender your life or die fighting. you've all got winter outfits too, and i think it'd be cute if everyone else besides lottie and nat wore these little reindeer headpieces during the feast because you guys are their followers. does that make sense? idk.

thinking about being taivan's controversially younger partner during christmas 😁 discounts in van's store (she needs the money ur not getting SHIT for free) and going with them to shop for decorations for the store too😖 gay christmas tree up in van's room...... watching christmas classics while drinking spiked eggnog and cuddling on the couch.... literally getting anything you want because you're their baby. waking up on christmas day, walking down to the kitchen for a quick drink of water first, and seeing tai and van wearing santa hats and kissing 😭

don't even get me started on being adult lottie's partner during christmas. i'll never shut up. i know that wellness center is decorated head to toe and i know she asked you to help her put everything up 😔 she'd give you some hot cocoa after all that hard work and a nice big kiss.

shauna (both adult and postcrash) is the fuckin' worst at hiding your presents, dawg. she probably shoves it in a closet somewhere and hopes you don't need anything from there 😭 of course you find it and immediately know what it is because i wonder what could this black, slightly boxy trash bag possibly be... probably really bad at wrapping too like most of your presents are just covered in tape LMFAO

oughh. spending christmas with post!crash lottie 😖 im ill. trying your best to save up some money to go visit her in swizterland but you just can't afford it :/ mailing polaroids of yourself with all the presents you wanted to send (some of them weren't allowed) and telling her they'll be waiting for her until she gets out :( Christmas with mute!Lottie too.... trying to spread some christmas spirit but its so hard when she's still so broken and won't talk :(( you do what you can though. taking her ice skating and getting a smile and laugh out of her was the highlight of the month.

nat would be so fucking good at gift giving i think....she's always so thoughtful with anything she does for a friend or her lover when making gifts for them because i feel like she'd prefer making rather than buying. little scrapbooks of meaningful places, mixtapes of songs that remind her of you, painting you something even!!!! or even something like getting you this book you really wanted but it comes with this HUGE handwritten note from her that's decorated with stickers and drawings of you and extra goodies she made on her own :(

christmas at lottie's compound with the others!!! you're lottie's closest acolyte and you've gotten closer with the girls as well. thinking about sitting in the circle with them in the sharing shack and they're comfortable enough with you to talk about the murders n shit in front of you 😭 but also going around and giving them gifts!! drinking wine with them and then dancing in the snow, throwing snowballs, and making snow angels >__< falling asleep after getting wasted and you're all kinda just in a pile laying on each other

jackie would buy so. much. mistletoe just to kiss you. you tell her she can just kiss you whenever but she's obsessed with christmas so it HAS to be under mistletoe. i think she'd go crazy during christmas too. you nearly had a heart attack when you came back from work to see a santa cutout peeking from behind a wall 😭 jackie as mrs. claus.....����😖😖wearing the hat and (her reading) glasses while cooking with you, waking you up as mrs. claus on christmas morning and giving you an hour long present, like, ugh.....

[eris-snow]

13. 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐁𝐨𝐱

Tags: bakugoux fem!reader, juxtaposition, angst,fluff, falling in love, playing piano together

13 is an unlucky number.

20th April

There’s streamers on the ground and balloons on the ceiling. All it takes is for Katsuki to hear the confetti poppers release to realise—Oh, shit, it’s my fucking birthday.

There’s a cake Sato’s made and the class settles on the plush sofas for a movie night, but not before they bury him with his presents big and small. A year ago, he never thought he’d be able to get to where he was today a whole. Two years ago, he got his physical and mental wellbeing fucked up and almost died in war.

Katsuki looks at the candles and blows out all 18 of them, a wish caught between his lips and windpipe. When Denki and Mina pester him about it, he waves them off and tells them to die. Wishes don’t come true if you share them, after all.

I hope you will be at my birthday next year.

I wish to break Reset, wish you could be seen.

Wish I could save you.

—

There’s a knock on the door as Katsuki hollers to answer. The only thing that greets his eyes is a present wrapped neatly in the same shade of canary yellow your cord is. Shredding the wrapping paper, he’s greeted by a mini Venus flytrap as a note that falls out.

Katsuki picks the paper up and unfolds it with an inkling of who it might be from. The handwriting is shit but legible.

Happy birthday, Bakugou. Rmb to give it lots of sunlight and feed it live insects. If you can’t keep it alive for a year, you owe me 1000 yen and your thumbs.

–

Katsuki digs up the score sheet Eijiro found and reads over it again.

‘Nuvole Bianche—Duet version.’

One of the scores your professor gave him, probably. The yellow cord dances around it playfully, coiling around his finger and tugging him to the hall.

“No.” He scolds.

The string unwinds, rewinds, and circles the score, determined and unwilling to take no for an answer.

“Fuck off, would you?” He groans, flopping against his bed. After his last outburst in front of you, he’s just—he just can’t face you. His palms get sweaty and there’s a flush on his face and he can’t control his stupid heart rate. It’s not normal, and part of him has a creeping suspicion as to why.

He eyes the score again and then exhales. Katsuki can’t ignore you forever, and heroes aren’t wimps, so he grabs the score and opens his balcony window.

It hurts to be near you, but it hurts even more to stay away.

—

Katsuki wrenches open the curtains to see you playing the piano. The cord wraps around you and the instrument, sleek and black and so goddamn shiny. It seems like you’ve taken a liking to his jacket, because that’s all he ever sees you wear now. It’s grey, lint-covered fabric resting comfortably on your shoulders.

With slacks, a messy bun, thin-rimmed glasses and earpods, it seems like you were back to transcribing another song. Figures, because when you look at him and upturn your lips, his brain stutters.

“Hey.” Your eyes flicker from his face to the scoresheet in his hands. “Whatcha got there?”

Katsuki’s mind goes uhh, and he answers. “Found this in the box we got from the storage unit. Recognise it?”

Your eyes light up like stars on Christmas Eve (stars?). “So you had it!” You squeal, taking it out of his hands gingerly and smoothing it out. “I thought I lost it, or…or threw it away—”

“Slow down, blabbermouth, what the hell are you talking about?!”

You flip it to him, giving him the stupidest fucking grin he’s ever seen.

“It’s our duet!”

Katsuki looks at you like you’ve been catapulted out of a UFO.

“When we were younger, we used to play these duet pieces our professor gave us. Got bored of playing the standard ones and decided to write a duet of a song we actually liked.” Fake smiles and trembling fingers, fuck no, he refuses to make you sad now.

“We wrote a duet of Nuvole Bianche by ourselves?”

“Yeah.”

Katsuki gives you a hard stare.

“…Sensei might have helped out a little.” More staring.

“A lot.”

Silence.

You pat the piano seat and avoid eye contact. “You wanna try?”

“You’re funny, now scoot over.”

—

“Thanks for the plant, by the way.”

“Oooh, you got it? What are you gonna name it? Snappy? Chomper—?”

“The hell? I’m not gonna name it—!”

“I got it! Sir Traps-a-lot!”

“I will start eating humans if you name my plant that.”

“Aw, cannibalism.”

—

Katsuki doesn’t know what to call this. This thing he does where he draws open the curtain, gets invited to sit beside you with the sweetest smile, and relearns music notion. It may have been years since he last touched the keys, but memory lies in practice, so he picks it up after one or two days off you teaching him how to play.

See the unseen, find what has been lost.

How is he supposed to get his memories back through the power of music and friendship?

Still, honing talent takes time, and it’s time he hasn’t invested. He’s nowhere near as good as he used to be.

“You’re getting better.” You intone, staring at the way his fingers fly across the board. (It’s not fair, he’s good at everything he does.)

“You’re faster,” he grumbles. “You have a better ear for how a piece should be played too.”

“Aw, praise from the half-deaf prodigy. I’m honoured.”

He flips you off, but it’s worth it when he hears you cover your mouth and giggle like a maniac.

“Wait till I surpass you,” He mumbles, hiding his face.

His neck is burning, and he wonders why.

—

The month of May comes and goes, but you seem happier than you’ve ever been. It makes Katsuki puff up with pride, because, the grin you have on your face and the beautiful music you make is all because of him.

—

30 June

“Look, you may be damn close to being a ghost, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t eat.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes.

This again.

Katsuki’s been on your case about skipping meals, but he doesn’t understand the sheer difficulty of eating meals. Meals require interactions, require you to go up to a counter and order, and if there is any possible way to reduce the constant reminder of being overlooked as possible, you’d take it.

“I’m eating.” You protest. “You don’t have to see it to know.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, obviously disagreeing, but he doesn’t go on about it.

The next day, as Class 3A passes yours during assembly dismissal, a bento is shoved into your hands, wrapped meticulously which contains the warm plastic container it’s in. You take a sneak peek in it and find egg rolls stacked neatly against carefully cooked chicken and fluffy white rice.

You look up and glance around, before finding Katsuki’s frame as he talks to Eijiro with hands shoved into his pockets.

On it, is a Post-it written with surprisingly neat handwriting.

Eat it, dork. I made it myself.

He’s making it too difficult to sweep your feelings under the carpet.

—

The last time Katsuki made you a meal was 3 years ago.

He did it for a month or so before Reset occurred, and that month was the same month you fell for him.

Wishful thinking tells you that Katsuki was falling in love with you too.

Some people fall head over heels. You got shoved into a hole and never made it out.

But now, it means something else entirely. Getting food was one of the biggest challenges since you get ignored so much. And now that it was getting worse, it was flat-out impossible to reach Katsuki’s standard of three meals a day unless you were to become a criminal.

To get the attention of someone and retain it long enough to get what you wanted…sometimes, it was better to starve.

The last time someone cooked for you, was your last family dinner 4 years ago.

To receive food cooked just for you makes your cheeks warm in appreciation as you bring it to your chest with a stupid grin on your face.

He made it for me.

You really need to stop doing this to yourself.

—

The bell rings and you’re off like a bullet.

You couldn’t wait to eat, and you could only imagine just how it tasted like.

Mine mine mine, you made it for me, just like old times, thank you, thank you, thank—

You trip over a step, and catch yourself before you fall. Eyes trace your table, and your lips pull into a frown.

It’s not there. You dig in your bag and survey your surroundings—nothing.

This isn’t fair. You see your class monitor standing by the whiteboard, mustering the courage to speak to him because no, you couldn’t lose this. Not when Katsuki made it for you.

“Hey, did you see my bento?”

He ignores you (of course), and it takes another 5 attempts and a yell to get his attention.

“Oh, you mean that plastic container?” He clarifies.

He takes in your vigorous head nodding with a monotone expression.

“I trashed it. It was sitting at the back of the classroom, rotting. No one in the class claimed it.”

I trashed it.

Confusion melts to disbelief as your expression twists to one of horror.

I trashed it. The words echo tauntingly. He says it so casually, too.

No, no, no, it’s not fair, it’s not—

“That was mine!” Your voice sounds as rough as cement, choked up and ruined.

The class monitor’s expression is listless, almost bored. “Oh, is that so?”

Anguished silence fills the room. Unbelievable.

“There was food in there—” You’re getting desperate, because how could you lose something just like that?

“Why would you throw away that? You couldn’t have—you must have noticed—!”

That pause was a fatal step, because you’re about as interesting as a house plant. His eyes are locked on something else, and you watch the familiar confusion settle in his eyes before he glances around and shakes his head.

“No, no, no—come on, listen to me—!” You try to grab his arm as he turns to walk away, but to your utter dismay and complete shock, it passes through his hand as if nothing existed there at all.

In all the three years of Reset, no matter how overlooked, how ignored, how invisible you were, that has never happened to you before.

Your feet feel numb. Your body feels numb.

Even as the lights get switched off, you stand rooted to the spot, as fear swallows you a whole.

All that’s left is the ticking of the clock, making you every bit more aware of how fast the seconds are passing you by.

You don’t have much time left.

You find your bento in a big, black rubbish bin nestled between the toilets and the water cooler. Rice spewed, egg rolls crushed, and chopsticks splintered.

—

The next time Katsuki sees you, you’re staring at your arm like it’s alien to you.

Something isn’t fucking right.

He’d expected a thank you, starry eyes like the way they lit up before when you surveyed the contents of his bento. He didn’t expect you to look just a little more…dead inside.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demands.

“My bento got trashed.” You reply tonelessly. “And my hand…passed through someone.”

“Excuse you?”

“I’m not fucking joking, Bakugou.” You show him your hand, and curl up a little more. “It’s fine now, I’m fine now.”

“Stop saying that, idiot.”

“But I am!” You shout, voice rising. “And the thing I’m more upset about…is…” You look up at him, eyes burning with regret and sorrow.

“I didn’t get to eat your bento.”

Katsuki’s heart shrivels up inside.

“You worked so hard on it, only for it to get thrown away. I’m sorry.”

He lets out a loud sigh, and sits beside you. “You’re fading away, and you have the nerve to be sorry for a fucking bento?”

“It looked like a tasty bento.”

“It’s dead, and you’re not.” He growls, eyebrows knitting together. “I’ll make you another one, okay? One that’ll blow you out of the park. Then we can meet here and eat it together, so I get to see your face while you consume the best fucking curry in the world. After that, we locate the piano to play our stupid duet on, and save you. Quit sulking.”

Your eyes snap up to him, a glare searing his face. Much better.

“I’m not sulking.”

Katsuki folds his arms, and you avert your eyes.

“Can you make egg rolls too?”

He slumps down beside you, exhaling. Success.

“Yes, I’ll make you your stupid egg rolls, Sunshine.”

139 Days Until Death.

-----

Taglist:

@genderfluid-anime-goth

[lovebirdgames]

MERRY (early) CHRISTMAS! This year I participated in indie VN dev Secret Santa. My giftee was Rice!! I checked out all their awesome free games on Itch and my favorite one was Wake Me Up If You Need Me because I love a cute lil romance. <3 In it you play as a psychopath who calls up this poor guy at 2am every night—nah it’s actually very sweet, I just felt bad keeping the poor boy awake!

Anyways I’m not the best artist, but wanted to draw a little something to go with what I wrote (see below the cut). Since MC doesn’t have an appearance, I got to be a little creative. Enjoy and be sure to check out Rice's games! @rice373, I hope you like it and have a wonderful holiday season!! <3

“Merry Christmas, Karu! Of course I wouldn’t forget you!” I happily dangle the catnip mouse a couple inches over the fluffy white cat’s head. His tail flicks with excitement and his pupils grow huge. I laugh as he expertly snatches it away with one swipe of his paw. “He likes it!”

“He really likes it,” Reed agrees as Karu flops over and begins bunny-kicking the poor mouse.

“Okay! My turn to open another present! Please don’t let this one be another calculus book…” I cast some side-eye on the Calculus for Dummies book I tossed onto my pile. “You’re not allowed to make me do math on Christmas, Reed!”

Reed rolls his eyes and rubs at the forever-present dark circles under them. “Trust me, that book will be the gift that keeps on giving. For both of us.” 

“Yeah, okay,” I snort as I tear the candy cane-colored wrapping paper off my next present, harboring zero intention of cracking that book open. 

“And with my phone being broken, you need something to fall back on.”

I nod along, keeping a smooth expression. Calling him in the middle of the night is much more fun than being forced to read a calculus book. Hearing his voice and giving him a hard time is like a little reward for my suffering. 

The sight of my next gift makes me gasp. “An owl onesie?!”

“For my favorite night owl,” Reed chuckles, pink tinging his cheeks. 

I immediately put it on. “It’s so comfy cozy! I’m never gonna take it off!”

“That might earn you several strange looks when you go to class.”

“Okay, I can’t take the suspense anymore…time for you to open your present!” I pull a neatly-wrapped gift from the pile and offer it with both hands. He smiles and goes to accept, but I suddenly feel self-conscious. “I’m sorry I only got you the one present! I used up all my savings. And I know you said not to go too crazy, but I couldn’t stop myself…”

Instead of recklessly tearing through to the present as I do, Reed carefully unsticks each piece of tape and gently unwraps the paper, as if to preserve it. When he sees the gift I got him, his jaw drops.

“I…you…you got me a phone?!”

“Do you like it?”

“This is too much! The new models are so expensive!”

I giggle at his beaming face. “It’s a present to me, too, so I can go back to calling you every night!”

“You really shouldn’t have.” He tries to inject some sarcasm into his voice, but he’s far too overjoyed to pull it off. In awe, he opens up the new phone to marvel at it. “Wow. My old phone was…”

“Ancient.”

“Yeah. This is amazing! Thank you so much.”

Reed wraps me in a hug. I sigh, enjoying his warmth. “Merry Christmas, Reed.”

“Merry Christmas. Your number will be the first one I add.”

I laugh, full of glee.

While Reed plays around with his new phone, I attempt to clean up the tornado of wrapping paper I created. Karu is having a blast hiding and shooting through it, easily distracting me. In the end, I wind up constructing a huge wrapping paper mountain for her to play in.

“Hmm…” Reed murmurs as he explores his new phone. “Since this phone is way newer than my old one, it should have a lot of new features and updates…”

“Yup!” I lean over his shoulder to see the screen and point stuff out. “The camera on this phone is sooo much better. Look, look, you can take a picture of Karu and turn her into a sticker!"

“There’s one cool feature I’ve been meaning to try…”

“Oh?”

I watch eagerly as he opens up the settings…clicks on a tiny purple moon icon…and turns on “Do Not Disturb” mode.

~The End

[threads-of-gold]

Christmas, Mistletoe, and Viewer Engagement: Deleted Scene II

She closed her book and stuck it in her carry-on before getting on her tablet and pulling up Pinterest to start compiling ideas of her own for the article and photo shoot. 

She made the board private so none of her followers would figure out what was going on and then typed in traditional Christmas into the search bar. A whole feed of pictures from Christmases past popped up and she started to scroll, choosing her favorites to save.

Girls in red velvet bows and thick sweater dresses. Trees with tinsel and garland, presents wrapped up in bright paper. Champagne in coupe glasses.

After a beat, she unpinned the coupe glasses because she didn’t even own a set, and she was sure most of her subscribers didn’t either.

She glanced over at Carmy, who was doodling a goose. He looked at her like he could feel her eyes on him.

“Is everything okay?” He asked. “Are you feeling sick? I have some gum in my bag.”

Syd made a face. 

“Not my Nicorette. I got some cinnamon and spearmint.”

“I’m fine. I mean, I’ll take some cinnamon gum. I feel fine. I was just looking at your drawing.”

“Oh.” Carmy got shy all of a sudden but he didn’t make a big deal of hiding it from her. 

“It’s cute,” Syd said.

“Thanks,” Carmy said, his face turning red. “Uh, what are you working on?”

Syd held up her tablet. “Planning what I want to do with the magazine article,” she said. “It’s kind of hard not to get over eager and plan this big extravagant Christmas. But I still want to keep it accessible to the people who watch my channel.”

Silence fell between them. Carmy tapped his pencil against his sketchbook, Syd turned her attention back to Pinterest, flicking past more Christmas trees and a tree skirt with nutcrackers cross-stitched on it.

She put the tablet down and looked at Carmy again. 

“So, are you thinking about goose for the December menu?” Syd asked.

“I dunno. Maybe for the parties we have booked.”

“Yeah. Yeah, goose can get a little expensive,” Syd agreed.

Secretly, she was glad Carmy hadn’t changed the menu again, because they had spent months planning it leading up to December. It was something she was always worried about in the back of her mind.

[lenaboskow]

well @911countdowntochristmas was harder than expected but here’s an unnamed piece for the wrapping paper prompt (day six?)

once i finish the one for the au i’m still posting it because 👀

read below (1k words)

Buck had stayed the night at the Diaz house enough times to be used to being woken up early by a small hand (not so gently) shaking his foot, begging for pancakes or French toast or some other breakfast food that Eddie claimed he could never get right. What he wasn’t used to, however, was much larger hands ripping the blanket away from him, throwing him back to several years prior, when he was mad at the world and would do anything to avoid getting out of bed.

“Come on, man, really? You didn’t have to do that.”

“We’ve been trying to wake you up for thirty minutes, Buck. I think we did.” Buck looked up to where Eddie was hovering over him, still in his pajamas, and felt all the fight leave his body. He could never be mad at him for long. Especially not on Christmas.

“What is it with you and stealing my covers,” Buck mumbled, pushing himself to a sitting position. The only inclination that Eddie heard him was the soft smile he had before he turned his back on Buck, heading back into the kitchen.

“Come on, you’re making breakfast. Chris wants French toast, and apparently, mine isn’t good enough for him.”

“That’s ‘cause you don’t measure anything and just guess,” Buck mumbled, standing up and making his way to the kitchen. Eddie had busied himself making coffee (the one thing he was better at than Buck), and Christopher was sitting at the table, reading the last Percy Jackson book. How he didn’t get tired of reading the same series over and over again was beyond him.

Breakfast was as peaceful as it was familiar. It was also over quickly, as Chris was adamant that they don’t waste a second more in opening presents and all but dragged them to the living room. Buck watched with an amused smile as the teenager grabbed the few presents that were a different wrapping paper and set them aside on the coffee table, before beginning to unwrap what was left under the tree.

“I don’t think one wrapping paper is better than the other, Chris,” Buck laughed, taking his seat on the couch to watch. The kid just gave him a confused look, but Eddie laughed with him.

“What are you talking about, Buck? That’s how we tell whose presents are whose.”

“Oh. Well, I guess that’s smart.”

As if sensing his confusion, Eddie continued, “It started when my sisters were younger. I didn’t get a lot of presents, just a few bigger things, but they got a lot of stuff because it was cheaper. Instead of having to hand out the presents one by one, my mom would just wrap each of our presents in a different wrapping paper and tell us which one was hers. When Chris was born, and my sisters still lived at home, it stuck. Our first Christmas here, I wasn’t going to do it, but then Shannon came back… the year after that we did Christmas at Pepa’s the day after with all the cousins so we were kinda forced to. After that… I just didn’t see a point in stopping, even if it meant I had to rewrap the presents our family gave me and save it for the day of. It makes Chris happy, so it’s a small price to pay.”

“Oh. That’s— I like that. But what about the gifts from Santa?”

“Well, obviously Chris is a little old for that now, but it used to be we would just leave it unwrapped under their stocking.”

“Makes sense. Santa wouldn’t have time to wrap millions of presents.”

“Exactly.”

“Good thing Santa isn’t real, then,” Christopher said, looking up from the gift he was currently unwrapping. Buck recognized it as the lego set he’d gotten him, and watched as Chris stood up, making his way to hug him. “Thank you, Buck.”

“Oh, so Buck still gets thank you hugs but I don’t?” Eddie asked, only half joking.

“I haven’t even opened yours yet, Dad. And you get one big hug at the end. Call it my Christmas gift to you.”

“I know he’s joking because Pepa took him shopping last week,” Eddie stage whispered to Buck, causing him to laugh.

“How did you even know I was the one who got you that?” Buck asked.

“Dad wrote the names of who it’s from in jumbo Sharpie,” Chris shrugged, moving back to the tree. “Are you two going to open your own presents now?”

“Oh, I—”

“You didn’t think you were going to spend Christmas here and not have presents to open, did you?” Eddie asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Which, yeah, he did, but that wasn’t the point. He’d been more than content to sit and watch his Diaz boys open theirs, and then make them Christmas dinner. He didn’t need anything else. “Well, too bad, because I got your presents from everyone while I was getting mine. I know you usually wait until our holiday party at Bobby and Athena’s, but there was no way I was going to let you sit here doing nothing. You didn’t think these were all for Christopher, did you?”

“Hey, it’s Christmas, the kid deserves to be spoiled,” Buck said, blinking away the tears that suddenly appeared.

“I think Buck should spend every Christmas with us,” Chris said, and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes. He turned to Buck, handing him one of the presents off the coffee table. “Here, the ones with the little Santa dogs are yours. I think the only one that hasn’t come in yet is Abuela’s because FedEx delayed it along with mine and Chris’.”

“Abuela… sent me a Christmas present?”

“Of course she did, you’re family.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Now are you going to open them or not? Because I happen to have a teenager who likes to make a mess of things, and I’m sure—”

“Fine, fine, I’ll open them,” Buck shoved at Eddie to get him to stop talking, but he was sure the grin growing on his face was giving him away. “But… thank you. Really, I— I didn’t get this growing up, so it means a lot.”

“Of course. I meant what I said, Buck; you’re family. And in this family, that means you get your own wrapping paper.”

[goayda]

Happy Birthday, Izzy

Shameless fluffy fic, because the idea of the crew having a party for Izzy's bday wouldn't leave me alone.

(As usual, set some time after 2x07, Ed is happy being a fisherman somewhere and there was no Zheng fight and no Prince Ricky attack. As usual too, no warnings needed, just a happy time for everybody.)

----

Izzy had been trying to teach Stede again how to correctly read a nautical chart for the last hour (No, Bonnet, it’s not more exciting to simply follow the wind, that gets you wrecked!) when Lucius came in to tell him they needed his help on deck.

“Olu and Pete were trying to fix...  that thing you said, something about the rigging, right? But they’re stuck, I think,” he explained vaguely.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Izzy stormed out of the captain’s cabin, muttering curses to himself. It wasn’t such a difficult task, he had thought the crew was finally getting the grasp on their jobs, especially Oluwande, but apparently he had been wrong.

When he reached the deck, though, instead of the mess he had been expecting he found himself in front of a very smug and very happy bunch of pirates that cheered loudly at him.

“Surpriiiise!” the whole crew shouted as one.

“Wha-what?”

“Happy birthday, Izzy!” Bonnet yelled behind him and then Izzy finally noticed the decorations.

There were fewer flowers than in the last big event on the Revenge, but there were many colorful decorations everywhere, beautiful paper lanterns ready to be lit when the sun would go down and were those parcels with ribbons on a table actually presents?

“How did you know?” Izzy asked, confused.

He hadn’t said anything about his birthday, in fact he hadn’t even remembered it was that day, except for a vague thought in the morning when he had checked the logs. Birthdays weren’t important for pirates or had never been before he had set foot on that crazy ship full of madmen.

“You told me once, but you were so drunk you probably don’t remember,” Frenchie said with a wink.

“We all agreed we should do something special for our first mate’s birthday this year,” Stede said, looking as excited as a child on Christmas morning. “We have a great party ready for you, Izzy! Ready, people?”

Izzy stood awkwardly while Stede and the crew sang Happy Birthday to him, willing his body not to blush, but probably failing. A birthday party. It was ridiculous, it was a waste and it was the most heartwarming thing that had happened to him in a long time.

The crew started giving him the presents right away and soon his hands were full and he was fighting to the keep himself from tearing up.

First Roach and Fang came up from the galley with snacks and pastries and a big lemon cake.

(I know these are your favorites, little man, I’ve seen you have seconds when you thought nobody was looking.

Yes, boss, and I know you like the little lemon cakes, we used to buy them on shore leave, remember?)

Then Pete and Lucius offered him a big package and Izzy unwrapped it to find a few bottles of good rum.

(I found them in the last raid and we saved them for your birthday, Izzy.

Yes, and I helped wrapping them, you know. It was quite difficult with my wooden finger and all…

You made a lovely bow with that ribbon, babe. It looked great.

Aaaww, thank you, babe.)

Wee John and Frenchie’s present was next, a beautiful dark-blue cloak with embroidered sparrows.

(For night watches, when it gets cold. I hope I got the measures right, Izzy, if not, you let me know and I’ll fix it.

Yeah, and I sewed the sparrows, Izzy. They’re good luck birds, you know? They’ll protect you from evil witches.)

Oluwande, Archie and Jim offered him a smaller package and Izzy found a set of very good quality daggers inside.

(I chose those myself, hombrecito, that’s very good steel. You could stab a thousand men with those!

Or not! Not right now I mean. But we thought you’d like them, Izzy. Happy birthday!

Yeah, I bet you could hide the smallest one somewhere in your unicorn leg and nobody would see it coming, man!)

The presents were very thoughtful and Izzy realized he had only managed to grumble a thank-you every time, but nobody seemed to care. The crew was having fun, laughing and eating while cheering at him to open the next present and when he thought that was the last one, Stede got closer slowly with his hands behind his back.

“Here, this is my present for you, Israel. I hope you like it,” Stede said almost casually, but his face showed how nervous he really was.

Stede offered him a big sword, wrapped with a green silk ribbon and Izzy stared at it open-mouthed. It was… pretty, but it was clearly an ornamental sword, made for show and not for fighting. The blade was too thin and too long and the guard was beautifully crafted, yes, with intertwined steel vines with thorns and leaves that created a sort of cage where your hand was supposed to go. It looked like wielding that sword in a real fight would cause more damage to your hand than any attack from your opponent.

Izzy looked at Stede’s expectant face and then took a deep breath.

“It’s beautiful, Captain, thank you very much. I’ll treasure it.”

There, he thought proudly, he didn’t say he would use it so he wasn’t technically lying.

Stede beamed at him, looking incredibly proud.

“Oh, I also bought you this,” he added then as he offered him a very small package. “Yours seems to be a bit worn-out and they’re always useful.”

A pair of leather gloves, just his size.

“I know you only use one, but well, better have the pair, I thought, just in case.”

“Thank you, Stede,” Izzy said softly.

There was a silence then, but it wasn’t awkward at all. It didn’t last long, though, because soon the crew was loudly demanding cake and the party continued, with cake, drinks and songs long until the moon was up in the sky. And Izzy enjoyed every single moment of it, even if he wasn’t going to admit it out loud. Not yet, at least.

XOX

[sparkles-and-trash]

dabihawks but very Hawks focused, just xmas fluff bc I can’t help myself 🎁🙈💫

Keigo who LOVES getting people christmas presents!

Giving gifts to show care and affection is part of his natural instincts due to his quirk, and a holiday where he can go crazy with it is obviously his favorite.

When he was little, he would only know the seasons based on the weather and temperature of the shed he lived in, but once he saw a christmas commercial on the tv that presented the idea of giving gifts to people you love.

Well, little Keigo did not know much about christmas, or love, really, but he was willing to try!

So he ventured out in the cold and searched and searched, and finally, finally he found it; the perfect rock.

He held it close as he hurried home, and after some rustling around in their makeshift kitchen he found some paper towels to wrap the stone in, just like they had with the shiny paper on the tv.

When he, after a lot of nervous pacing, presented the gift to his mom, she did something Keigo had only seen a handful of times in his short life; she smiled.

Keigo never forgot the fluttering feeling of joy and pride in his chest that moment brought him.

When he started training with the Commission, he had a lot of different handlers, but only one was by his side all trough the years.

His name was Mera, and he had hair much like Keigo’s and looked sleepy a lot, but he was something none of the others ever were; kind.

So, every year, no matter how tired, sore, scared or tired he was, Keigo drew Mera a picture for christmas.

It was always the same theme; the two of them, and every year Keigo got the best response he could dream of; a smile.

Even now, many years after Keigo «graduated» from the Commission, and even after he broke ties with them all together, he always made sure Mera got a little drawing in the mail for christmas.

He truly deserved it after all, helping Keigo get to the files he needed when he was finally ready to show the world what the commission really did.

And now, Keigo has multiple people he can get presents for every christmas, which is beyond amazing to him.

His first addition to the list was Tokoyami, of course.

Keigo had straight up lied to him that first christmas, saying that it was totally normal to buy his colleagues gifts, as if he ever had even had a real conversation with most of his colleagues at that point.

But for his little intern, he could not help himself.

He tried not to go overboard, but when Keigo first cared about someone, it was a lost cause.

Tokoyami had once mentioned his secret fondness for the Sanrio character Badtz Maru, and Keigo loved to show that he paid attention to details like that.

Now, a few years and quite a few christmas and birthdays later, his poor intern had so much Badtz Maru merch he could probably start his own store, but he treasured every single piece as if it were worth millions.

The fact that Keigo had given them to him made them worth even more to him.

With Touya it was a little different.

As soon as Keigo’s brain had decided that Touya was indeed his mate, it got straight to work.

Every shiny thing he got his taloned hands on, anything in Touya’s favorite colors, every sort of candy and sweet that he knew Touya liked, was immeadiatly aqquired and present to Touya at the first possible opportunity.

Watching Touya’s normal stoic face crack into a small smile and a faint blush reach his cheeks every time he accepted one of Keigo’s gifts were the best part of any day, no doubt.

It did however create a bit of a problem when it came to christmas gifts, because because Keigo really wanted to make it special, and Touya really wasn’t much of a materialistic guy.

In the end, it’s always Keigo’s attention to detail that saves him.

A special book Touya had mentioned in an off hand comment was hunted down, preferably as a first edition and maybe even signed.

Touya barley likes touching it, terrified to cause any damage to the previous item.

A precious memory in an otherwise turbulent childhood was recreated to the best of Keigo’s ability, and if Touya had tears in his eyes that entire night, Keigo would never mention it.

In all honesty, getting to go on these deep dives on things his boyfriend loves is one of Keigo’s favorite thing in the while world.

Recently he even started doing good by the fib he told Tokoyami way back when.

Eraserhead got some Neko themed teacher supplies, Mic always made sure to tell Keigo how much he secretly adored it, Mic himself got fun accessories and stuff for his studio, which he always made sure to mention on air.

Mirko got a collection of the best recepies for vegetarian meals Keigo could collect, and Fatgum got a ton of vouchers for meals on Keigo for the two of them whenever Fatgum wanted to be adventurous and try new, fun food.

For Keigo, however, one of the best gifts came in an unexpected way.

For a little while now, Keigo had been aware of his mothers location in a facility where she was getting the help she had so sorely needed all those years ago.

While she had expressed the wish to see her son as soon as he wanted, Keigo had been unsure.

He was honestly terrified of setting her back when she saw him.

But after months of thinking, talking and waiting, he finally felt ready.

Touya was with him, of course, and when they entered the small apartment that was his mothers’, Keigo was just about to pass out from nerves and regret when he saw it;

A small, very familiar, perfectly round grey rock on the center of her mantle.

All these years, all that pain, all those people, all the tears, trauma, time and places, and yet… she had kept it.

The first gift.

That, with the fact that the love of his life was holding his hand at this moment, made it the best gift Keigo could ever wish for.