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earnestly-endlessly · 4 years ago

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Hi! I'm wondering if you can make a list of fics where Erik's jewish heritage isn't ignored? I just came across the fact that a lot of authors don't explore this part of him for some reason and i found it kinda upsetting so i'm wondering if you have any recs! I liked "As They Kiss, Consume" and "Who Shall be King Hereafter" by sherwoodfox, in case anyone who's reading this ask is interested in the same topic.

Hi Anon. I'm sorry for taking so long with this list but your request sent me on a wide search for fics that fit with your request. I tried to find a variety of fics where Erik's Jewish heritage is addressed. Some of them aren't necessarily cherik, but most of them are. I hope you enjoy this list.

Mistletoe, Latkes, and Long-Term Revenge Strategies – pocky_slash

Summary: Charles knows that Erik hates working at a department store in the best of times. Being Jewish in a department store during the holiday season is far from the best of times. He does what he can to help.

A Nice Boy (the Family Matters Edition) – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik's not sure whether the problem is that he doesn't want his parents to meet Charles or that he doesn't want Charles to meet his parents. Either way, he never invites Charles to brunch. Why should he? It's not like they're dating.

A Road Trip to Pennsylvania – Aainiouu

Summary: For a year Charles has nurtured the biggest and most embarrassing crush known to man towards Erik. They are friends and roommates and when Erik asks Charles to accompany him to home on Thanksgiving of course Charles goes.

In the Bleak Midwinter – keire_ke

Summary: It is not easy to find out, well into the second decade of the twenty-first century, that your mother arranged a marriage for you. It is even less easy to convince her that you have no interest in the very fertile Magda, she of the wide hips and lustrous auburn hair. Fortunately, with a good friend at his side over the holiday weekend, Erik is sure he will prevail.

Speech Making – phalangine

Summary: Modern Emma AU- Charles Xavier, accomplished matchmaker and headmaster of North America’s preeminent school for mutants, intends to add another notch to his belt: setting up his friend Moira. His oldest friend, Erik, has doubts about this plan.

Charles doesn’t share them.

This is life (and everything’s all right) – pocky_slash

Summary: Edie Lehnsherr came into Charles' life long before he ever heard Erik Lehnsherr's name, and her death left a gaping hole in the lives of everyone in Charles' family. As the first Purim without her approaches, he begins to get creative in his efforts to bring everyone out of their grief. Kitchen creativity, however, is not quite his strength....

Bashert – AvengingAngel

Summary: Erik and Charles meet and fall in love. I wanted to write a story where Erik had a huge family. Pretty fluffy (for me anyways). I suck at summaries.

Note: The summary doesn’t reveal much but if you’re looking for a fic where Erik is jewish and has a large family with a heavy dose of cherik fluff and angst then this one is for you.

Math Reasons – pearl_o, pocky_slash

Summary: "Mom says Erik always knows what he wants, it just sometimes takes him a little while to actually realize it," Ruth said.

Charles fell in love with Erik the first night they met, the first week of freshman year. Two years of friendship, adventures, arguments, hijinks, secrets, and summer visits later, Erik is starting to catch up.

Ser

It’s kind of our whole things – pearl_o, pocky_slash

Summary: After two years of best friendship, Charles and Erik thought they knew everything there was to know about each other. They're surprised, then, when their first summer as a couple reveals that they have a lot to learn about each other and themselves.

Sequel to Math Reasons

A Winter in New York – nextraordinaire

Summary: Charles and Erik have been childhood friends for as long as they can remember – Erik, living with his mother in Queens, and Charles in the big mansion in Westchester. For all, expect themselves, it was just natural progression that they'd end up together.

A series of ficlets from the same universe – can be read as separate and are out of chronological order.

Baby, It’s Cold Outside – heyjupiter

Summary: "It's just, this is my first Chanukah away from my parents. And it's--it's like 90 degrees out."

Erik Lehnsherr and Kitty Pryde celebrate a Genoshan Chanukah. It's a little different from the way it used to be in New York, but some unexpected visitors help them embrace the spirit of the holiday season.

Hold Back the Rain (front!strict mashup) – euphorbic

Summary: Charles Xavier: society darling, powerful political activist, well-known professor, and Dominant.

Erik Lehnsherr: anti-social, international motorcycle racer, and defiant submissive.

Erik is at Sepang in Malaysia for the fourteenth leg of the International World Championship. After doing poorly in qualifying, he's furious to find he has to take another VIP around the track instead of meeting Charles at the KL airport.

The Swan – waitfornight

Summary: In 1939 Erik and his sister Ruth are sent to Devonshire, England, during the Kindertransport refugee program to live with Kurt and Sharon Marko as foster children just before the start of World War II. Angry and wishing he could return home on the night of his seventeenth birthday, Erik meets a boy alone in the forest who is cursed to transform each day into a swan, only taking his true form by night.

Swan Lake AU.

The boy with the heart on his sleeve – euphorbic

Summary: Charles loses a high-stakes bet to Raven and is required to get a tattoo. However, when he makes a disparaging remark about the art form, Raven's acerbic mentor, Erik, steps in.

Or, the one where Erik and Raven are tattoo artists.

The Wurst Case Scenario – sareyen

Summary:If anyone asked why Charles, come rain, wind or shine, made the significant trek during his dismal lunch hour to dine at "Edie's Kosher Delicatessen", he would stubbornly say that it was because their pastrami on rye and potato knishes were absolutely to die for. He wasn't completely lying, because the deli's namesake, Edie Lehnsherr, made the best matzah ball soup Charles has ever had in his life. Still, Charles would rather shave his full head of hair off than admit that the real reason he would willingly walk through hail and fire to get to the corner deli was because of Erik, the insanely attractive man working the counter.

Sure, Erik has barely spoken two words to Charles other than "Hello, what can I get you?" or, after the third day in a row that Charles came to the deli, "Welcome back, what can I get you?", but Charles was more than happy to just ogle at the man from afar while devouring the juicy wurst Erik had put together with his (large and very capable) hands.

But, little does Charles know, Erik doesn't usually work the front counter. He only does it when he knows the cute blue-eyed man will be dining in.

This is life (and everything’s all right) – pocky_slash

c'est regarder ensemble dans la même direction – melonbutterfly

Summary: Since that day on the beach, Charles and Erik have learned to agree to disagree for the sake of living and working together. Then, for Christmas, and Charles gives Erik Hanukkah back a second time, and their relationship shifts a little further.

Terrible Hanukkah Sweaters and Other Life Challenges – professor

Summary: “Why am I here again?” Erik groans.

“I need you to lift things and glower at people over my shoulder when I tell people that it’s not ‘politically correct’ or a ‘war on Christmas’ to have a non-denominational winter holiday festival,” says Theresa Pryde.

Well, at least those are two things he’s good at.

Shrapnel – librata

Summary: It's late 1940, and tensions between the Axis and the Allies are tightening. Displaced and alone, 16-year-old German Jew Erik Lehnsherr finds himself employed as a servant by some snobby, terrible family in England whose house is far too big and whose money never seems to end. The worst part is, he isn't just mucking stables or cleaning plates–-he's tasked with tending to the whiny, disabled son named Charles, who might just drive Erik into absolute madness.

Or, the World War II fic in which Erik and Charles experience a changing world and a lot of teen angst.

Defying Expectations – Baamon5evr

Summary: Charles and Erik meet each other’s family. Neither of them gets what they expect.

table for three – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik should have known to call ahead to the Chinese restaurant--it's Christmas Eve and he lives in a predominantly Jewish neighborhood, after all. But before he can go home to mourn the loss of another one of his mother's yearly traditions, he's accosted by a teenage girl with a strange proposition--that he should stay and have dinner with her and her mother, instead.

different from all other nights – metonymy

Summary: "This year we are slaves; next year we will be free." Kitty and Erik host a seder for Passover at the Xavier School.

Libertad – ariadnes_string

Summary: Erik knew the look, had seen it his whole life, even before the war. ”You, with your height and blue eyes and straight nose, you can pass. You can be free of us. You are not marked with your difference.” If you only knew, he’d thought then. He thought the same thing now. And it was that thought, as much as anything, that made him move towards the gate.

Wash Away – sebastian2017

Summary: One quiet, lonely morning, before Yom Kippur, Erik makes his way to the sea in search of forgiveness.

After? There is No ‘After’ – Unrepentant_Marvelist

Summary: Erik knows what he is for. He has known his responsibilities as a survivor since the moment he woke under a scratchy, lice-infested blanket in the Red Army hospital. His world is painted in lucid blacks and whites (so often splashed in red) and there is no room for uncertainty or indecision... until a certain sunburned Englishman throws himself into his world.

The Children of an Idle Brain – Margo_Kim

Summary: Sometimes, when he’s lucky, Schmidt can’t hurt him. It’s like there’s a room inside of Erik’s head that’s he’s usually locked out of, that won’t open no matter if he beats himself bloody against it. On those days, he endures. But sometimes—and Erik doesn’t know why, whether it’s that the stars align or some higher power takes pity or Erik screams loud enough to earn his reward—the door opens. Erik can duck inside and slam it behind him and watches himself through the windows as Schmidt slowly, methodically tortures him to strength.

These days, this past week, there’s a boy in the room with him and he tells Erik, “That’s horrible,” like that means something.

Somehow, across the world, Erik's and Charles' minds touch when they need each other most. They can't be sure that the other boy is real. They suspect that he is not. But that doesn't mean they aren't each other's lifeline until they lose each other and then for a while longer.

Tehillim – kvikindi

Summary: Erik, in Israel, afterwards: another life he could have had. If.

I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) – childishinquiry

Summary: Erik has worn long sleeves his whole life, even before they had to wear yellow stars. Marching along his arm, in neat, black, English letters, are the words "My name's Charles Xavier."

Precious Few Years – sherwoodfox

Summary: Erik and Charles (known only to each other by the letters inscribed on their wrists) are meant to be together, soulmates, destined for the most powerful kind of love and connection a human being can experience.

But they are separated in almost every possible way- by distance, by circumstance, by language, by war. Their chances of success- of finding one another in the labyrinth of the world- are very slim. There is a reason why most people never find their soulmates.

But of course, Charles and Erik aren't ordinary children-

They have their gifts.

#cherik #cherik fic recs #fic recs #Erik is Jewish #holocaust #asks #earnestly answers

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lovetorn · 4 years ago

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secret santa — chains!au [dream]

Dream x Fem!Reader Chains!AU — original fic here

Chains!AU masterlist

Summary: Secret Santa with the OT4.

Warnings: as always, a lot of swearing, & some steamy sections but nothing too hot.

Word Count: 3.6k+

A/N: AHHH ITS FINALLY HERE!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!! AND HAPPY HANUKKAH TO ANYONE WHO CELEBRATES IT!!! I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND LOVE THIS AS MUCH AS I DO!!!

The letter from Technoblade was extremely vague. He had ordered for a meeting as soon as possible and seeing as it was a week until Christmas, his employees dreaded the occasion.

Y/n, George, Sapnap and Dream dragged their feet towards the entrance of Techno’s mansion. The vast white house took up most of one’s eye line, with the building’s tall white pillars signalling the importance of the man who lived there. Sapnap wore a permanent pout on the journey there and continued to do so until the group stood in the elegant ballroom in the middle bottom floor of the mansion.

“If we get yelled at, I’m leaving.” George threw Sapnap a bored look, silently telling him to shut up as the last of their associates entered. Techno was nowhere to be seen, as usual, but the anticipation—dread—of knowing the situation, had Dream on edge. He was more snappy than normal and he wore a hard expression that not even Y/n could crack.

“It’s Christmas, what the fuck could he possibly want?” Dream spat, crossing his arms over his chest. Y/n peered at him and placed her hand on his bicep. The touch made Dream snap his head towards her, his eyes slightly softening at the sight of her. “Sorry.”

Y/n shook her head, “It’s okay to be angry.” Dream dragged the side of his mouth between his teeth in annoyance. The sound of someone clearing their throat caused the room to fall silent.

“You’re probably wondering why I called you here this close to Christmas.” Techno’s deep voice bounced off the walls. The statement made George, Sapnap and Dream nod exaggeratedly.

“I suppose I’ll get on with it then; I’ve decided to host a Secret Santa for Techno Industries this year!” At the sound of nothing life-threatening, Dream’s eyes widened. His head on a swivel, he looked at Y/n and then the boys. His mouth had fallen open and the outline of a smile began forming on his cheeks. The rare sight of Dream grinning in Techno’s presence was satisfying; who would’ve guessed something as trivial as Secret Santa would break his streak of sternness during in these meetings.

“I have already picked out your partners, so check your phones for the person you’ll be buying for,” It was exceptionally out of character for Techno to be so joyful, but perhaps the holiday season had brought his spirits up. “Have a great evening, everybody! Happy Christmas! And Happy Hanukkah for those who celebrate it!”

The high-pitched dings of phone notifications prompted everybody to check them. Fishing her phone from her purse, Y/n looked at the screen, Sapnap. A smile broke out across her face as she looked around the group.

She met George’s gaze, who also wore a grin. Looking at Dream and then Sapnap, she realised they were all beaming. She furrowed her eyebrows quickly when all four of them were eyeing each other, knowing something was up.

“Tell me, Y/n, did you happen to get someone in this group?” Sapnap asked, his smile growing even more when she nodded. “I did too,” Dream said, followed by George, “Yeah same.”

“Guys! We got each other! Almost looks like it was rigged.” Sapnap‘s eyebrows raised whilst a smirk etched its way on his face.

George eyeballed him, “Sapnap, how did you know this was even happening? Anyway, that defeats the entire purpose of secret Santa in the first place. How did you even manage to do this?” Sapnap scrunched his face up, “So many questions and no answers! A magician never reveals his secrets. Plus, nobody actually cares, Georgie; get a life.”

A look of confusion and irritation crossed George’s face as he threw his hands up. Dream stifled a laugh with his fist and Y/n smiled softly, not wanting to annoy George further.

“Anywho… who got me?”

y/n, i need your help. idk what to buy dream.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she received the messages from Sapnap. She set down the bowl she held in the kitchen of the team’s penthouse apartment in San Diego and picked up her phone to respond.

your problem.

Reading her text, Sapnap groaned out loud and falsely cried; he knew if he was loud enough, somebody would come to his aid. He sat on his bed in his room, the clock ticking mockingly in the background. He spun around to scowl at it before he was startled by Dream—wrong person!

“What’s wrong now, Snapmap?” Dream asked. The younger boy stilled and turned back to see the older boy standing in the doorway. “N-Nothing!”

Dream furrowed his eyebrows, “Has this got to do with the present thing?” Sapnap nodded stiffly. The breeze from the open window drifted through the room and Sapnap begged for something outside to distract Dream.

“Well, I can probably help you, who have you got?” Dream walked to the bed where Sapnap sat. “George?” His answer sounded more like a question as Dream’s face scrunched in confusion. Sapnap’s paranoid essence told Dream not to push any further, but he found the situation at hand funnier than it should've been.

“I’ve got George.” Sapnap reddened and shot up from his spot. “I gotta go.”

Dream watched his friend rush out of the room, a lopsided smile made its way onto his face. He glanced out of the window, the birds flying past distracting him for a moment before he snorted a laugh and made his way downstairs.

—

“I fucked it, he knows I don’t have George, because he does!” Sapnap rambled to Y/n quietly in the kitchen. Y/n tried her best not to giggle at his panic and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Sapnap. Clay’s not smart enough to figure it out himself.”

“Hey!” Sapnap’s eyes widened at the sound of Dream’s voice and threw his hand up at Y/n before he exited.

“What’s this about me not being smart?” Dream sounded hurt, but the grin on his face told otherwise. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” “Mhmm.”

Dream folded his lips between his teeth as he approached Y/n from his place in the doorway. “Something tells me, you’re lying.”

Y/n shook her head as Dream’s hands ran over her hips. She bit down on her bottom lip as his face inched closer to hers. “You wouldn’t lie to me, Y/n? Would you?” The girl shook her head, tilting her head to meet his gaze. Dream’s tongue darted out to wet his lips as his eyes shifted from her eyes to her lips.

“I need you to help me decide what to get George.” Y/n stepped back from Dream’s grip and groaned. “Seriously?”

Dream lent over, his hands on his knees as he laughed. Y/n joined in with his cackles, swiftly moving around the kitchen to tend to the beeping oven. The tantalising aroma of fresh cookies filled the small space and Dream’s eyes lit up. “Cookies?”

His jaw fell open at the sight of the sweets before he hurried towards the hot tray that sat on the counter. The chocolatey biscuits sat untouched, and Dream hovered over them, the steam heating his face.

“They’re hot!” Y/n’s statement was ignored by him as he reached out to pluck a cookie off of the tray. Dream quickly retracted his hand as his fingertips brushed the hot metal. “Fuck!”

He cradled his hand in his other as he turned towards Y/n, pouting. “You know for a man in your line of work, I'd expect you to be less of a pussy.”

Dream’s frown deepened as he held his fingers out to her, “Help me!” Y/n threw her head backwards in exasperation, fighting back a smile. “Fine.”

Y/n had bought and finished Sapnap’s Secret Santa present. She held it out at arm’s length to admire her wrapping and moved to place it in her closet to hide it. She was just about to shove it behind her shoe rack when a voice made her jump.

“Hey,” Dream popped his head into Y/n’s room. She smiled at him and closed the closet doors without properly hiding Sapnap’s present. “Hi.”

“I’ve got something for you,” He said, rounding his arm from behind his back. He held a small, red gift bag and the sight made Y/n gasp.

“I didn’t know we were doing presents, Clay.” Her eyes filled with tears at the sentiment and for not thinking about buying Dream a present. “We weren’t, but I saw this and had to get it for you.”

Dream guided Y/n to sit on her bed. He handed her the bag and waited for her to open it, jabbing his fingers in her sides in an attempt to hurry the process.

“Stop poking me, I’m opening it.” She laughed, pulling a black box from the bag. Y/n’s eyes widened as she glanced at Dream, who sat with his thumbnail in his mouth. He let out a nervous laugh before Y/n opened the box.

A small gold pendant with faint engravings of an animal sat within the velvet, the chain hidden under the material. Y/n tilted her head as she brought it closer to her face, tears blurring her vision. “It’s a lion; it symbolises strength, and you are the strongest woman I know, Y/n. You mean the absolute world to me, you know that?”

Y/n nodded, lolling her head the rest on Dream’s shoulder “—plus, I’m a Leo, so it’s fitting.” Y/n shoved his shoulder. “It’s gorgeous.”

She carefully brought her hand to remove it from the box, her hands shaking. “Stop shaking,” Dream laughed, taking the necklace from her hands. “I’m sorry! I’m nervous.”

“You don’t think I am too?” He uttered, unclasping the hook.

“Aw, you’re nervous?” Y/n whispered, a tearful grin on her face. Dream blushed whilst he nodded. “Now, turn around.”

Y/n did as she was told and lifted her hair up. The cold, thin chain rested against her skin, the small pendant falling on her collarbones. Before she released her hair, she felt Dream’s lips against the nape of her neck. Flushing, Y/n twisted her body so she was facing him again.

She brought her arms up to wrap around his neck in a hug, Dream circling his around her torso. “Thank you,” She whispered. “I love it.”

Dream sighed, nudging his nose against her ear, “I love you.” Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, her emotions in overdrive as she felt him peck her cheek. Y/n craned her head back so she could look into Dream’s. “I love you.”

Dream softly smiled before he dipped his head to connect their lips in a kiss. Y/n hummed at the feeling, her fingers moving to toy with the hairs at the bottom of his neck. Dream pulled away quickly, only to press his mouth back against her’s, his hands lifting her shirt up.

A deep groan came from the back of Dream’s throat as Y/n tugged on his hair, the sound making her smile into his mouth. Suddenly, a soft pinch pricked the skin of her waist as she yelped gently. “Stop laughing at me, baby.”

This only made Y/n giggle harder as she pulled away from Dream, a pout upon his features. She tipped her head to the side, a mocking frown on her face. Dream huffed and attempted to untangle their limbs whilst fighting a smile. Y/n reached out to grasp his wrists, the action causing Dream to stop moving.

He cocked an eyebrow at Y/n before she tugged at his wrists and brought his face back to hers. The closeness of their lips and the mingling of breath was euphoric as Y/n closed her eyes to kiss him again—before she was rudely interrupted.

“Who’d you get for Secret Santa?”

“Clay!”

Sapnap, George, Y/n and Dream had taken refuge next to the food table, choosing to stand away from the cluster of other associates in the middle of the room. Sapnap had complained beforehand about interacting with them, and as a group, they had decided it was best for all of them not to mingle. Although, Y/n had left to greet her friend, Niki at the beginning of the night and was soon dragged back to the group by Sapnap.

They had been waiting on Technoblade to start the exchange of gifts for an hour now. Growing bored, Sapnap elbowed George in the ribs sharply, a giggle escaping his lips at the sound of his friend in pain, “Fuck off, Sapnap.”

Dream’s arm was thrown over Y/n’s shoulders, her body turned to fit into his side. She looked up at him, expecting to be met with the usual hard expression Dream wore during meetings with Techno, but instead, she admired the faint upturn of the corners of his mouth.

Finally, Technoblade waltzed into the room, his red velvet suit glittering in the light of the vast chandeliers above. His blossom hair was pulled back into a plait at the back of his head, and his two unusually sharp bottom teeth were visible from where the group stood as they watched him smirk. Sapnap rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, earning a jab in the ribs from George. “Dickhead,” he uttered through closed teeth.

Technoblade scanned his eyes over the small gathering of employees in front of him. Golden bells and feathery tinsel hung from the walls and the soft rhythm of festive music played at the back of the ballroom. Despite the joyous atmosphere, his face remained stoic as he cleared his throat.

“Good evening, everyone.”

—

The exchange of gifts soon began, everybody moving to the back corner of the ballroom to pick out their present.

Y/n, Sapnap, George and Dream decided to go get their presents last. Once they had all picked out the present with their name on it, George pushed Y/n’s shoulder lightly.

“Ladies first.” Y/n rolled her eyes and reached into the green bag. Her fingers wrapped around a brick-shaped item, the form oddly familiar as she lifted it out. The wrapped walkie talkie sat delicately in her grip. Y/n’s face lit up as she peeled the red paper away.

“Oh my god…”

“Dream told me you needed a new one since Schlatt destroyed your last one, so ta-da~!” George wore a silly grin as he watched Y/n admire the shiny, new walkie talkie. “I love it, thank you, Georgie.”

She brought him into a hug, her tight embrace showing George how grateful she actually was—he knew her time with Schlatt was traumatic, so he wanted to assure her that they were always there, more so when she was alone; even if that was in the form of a walkie talkie.

“It’s my turn!” Sapnap laughed. He snatched the small wrapped box from the floor next to him. His face lit up as his fingers quickly moved to tear away at the wrapping paper. George furrowed his eyebrows at the oddly shaped gift and glanced at Dream who shook his head. They both turned to look at Y/n who gazed at Sapnap, meeting eyes again when they came to the realisation that it was she who bought the present.

Sapnap pulled out a stack of red and white cards tied together with a green bow. He laughed in disbelief at the sight of the colours of his favourite fast-food restaurant.

“Chick-Fil-A gift cards?” He beamed, his gaze scanning over his friends before Y/n raised her hand. “Y/n! I love you! Thank you!”

He stepped forward to wrap his arm around her shoulder in a half-hug. Y/n did the same, whispering a quick, ‘no problem’ to him.

Dream narrowed his eyes at Sapnap, who’s smile only grew bigger. “Calm down, green boy, why do you hate me?”

“Ok, I’m next.” Dream announced, ignoring the question. He moved his growing hair out of his eyes as he brought the wrapped box in front of him.

“You should’ve gotten him some hair clippers for that mop,” Y/n laughed, shoving Dream while he fake laughed and grimaced. Sapnap barked out a laugh and encouraged Dream to open the present. “Chill out.”

Sapnap rolled his eyes and watched as Dream ripped the paper off, a smirk playing at his lips. “Oh look! Hair clippers!”

The group burst into hysterics at the sight of the box that did, in fact, contain hair clippers. “I hate you guys.”

“Be grateful, Dreamy! I paid good money for those.” Sapnap exclaimed, his laughs making it difficult to understand him. “While you're at it, shave that disgusting beard shit you’ve got going on, it’s gross.”

“It’s hardly a beard. You’re just jealous because you can’t grow one as good as me,” Dream teased, earning a scoff from Sapnap, “That’s bullshit.”

Dream gave Sapnap a bemused look and stepped forward to wrap his arm around his neck in a headlock. “You’re such a fuckin’ idiot.”

Sapnap’s giggles attracted the attention of surrounding members, their laughter joining in with the group of four when they saw what was going on.

“Well, unlike Sapnap, I actually got you a good present, George.” Dream said, releasing the youngest from the headlock. George peered down at the large red and green gift bag he held.

“Ok…” He reached into the bag but stopped when his face scrunched up. Dream snorted out a laugh, his wheeze making it hard for everyone to keep a straight face. “Dream, what the fuck is this?”

Dream’s laughs only intensified when George pulled a singular piece of wet spaghetti. Y/n laughed out loud with a puzzled expression, and Sapnap slapped his knee with tears in his eyes.

“Oh no! Did I put the wrong present in the bag?” Dream struggled to breathe through his cackles. George genuinely seemed hurt as he pouted, his head dropping towards the floor.

“NO! No, George, I’m kidding—here,” Dream moved to pull something from his back pocket. George lifted his head and his frown was immediately replaced with a look of shock when Dream dropped a gold compass in his palm. George was unable to form a coherent sentence as he gazed at Dream, his eyes becoming watery. “How?”

“I contacted your dad, actually, and he was more than happy to send it over.” Dream said, happily accepting George's hug when he wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Sapnap glanced at Y/n, confused until George noticed.

“It was my Grandad’s compass. He took this everywhere he went during the war. I thought it was gone forever when he died.” Sapanp’s eyebrows raised and his jaw fell, “Woah.”

“Y/n helped me.” Dream admitted, motioning his hand to her as she waved.

“Y/n.” George moved to hug the girl next, his tears falling onto her shoulder. She exhaled a laugh and brought her hand to the back of his head, “It was no problem, honestly. I know how much it means to you.”

George pulled back, wiping at his cheeks, suddenly very embarrassed at making a scene. “Sorry guys.”

“Don’t be sorry, Georgie, it’s a sentimental gift, we understand,” Sapnap said, patting his friend’s back. “But why wasn’t I a part of this?”

Tugging on Dream’s sleeve, Y/n pulled him back inside his bedroom. “I’ve got a present for you.”

“Uh—we gotta be downstairs in like 5 minutes,” Dream laughed, the tips of his ears reddening as he jutted his thumb over his shoulder. “No! Not that type of present, get your head out of the gutter.”

Dream continued to giggle, even when Y/n sat him down on his bed. “Close your eyes.”

Y/n rushed to his wardrobe to reach up and grab the long, flat box that laid on the middle shelf. She placed it in his lap and then resumed to sit next to him. At the feeling of something on his thighs, Dream opened his eyes. He gave her a pointed look and continued to open the box.

His brought his hand to tuck his hair behind his ear as he reached inside the side of the box. His movement froze when he felt the object and turned to face Y/n. She only laughed as he continued to drag it out of the cardboard. Dream gapped at the feeling of smooth ceramic under his fingers. “Baby..”

“I told you I was going to get you a new one, so I did,” Y/n spoke softly, her voice like honey to him. Dream furrowed his brows and Y/n brought her thumb to smooth out the creases, “Don’t do that, you’ll get wrinkles.”

That elicited a giggle out of Dream. He placed it on his duvet on the other side of him and turned back towards Y/n. “You didn’t need to do this.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, slapping him lightly on the bicep, “Shut up, yes I did. I promised.” Dream shook his head, returning his gaze to the mask.

“I love you, so much. You have no idea.” Y/n squinted one eye and she tilted her head, “I’m pretty sure I have an idea.”

“Oh yeah?” Dream questioned, placing the mask and the box on the floor before he pushed Y/n backwards on the bed. She nodded, moving her hands to his shoulders as he hovered over her.

“I know because I love you so much more,” Dream pulled his head back, looking at her in bewilderment. “No chance.” And when he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips, a scream interrupted them.

“Close your fucking door! Gross!”

“Fuck off, Sapnap!”

#dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken imagine #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #dream smp imagine #dream smp x reader #in chains for you drabble collection #dream imagines #dream x reader #chains!au #dream team imagine

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revlyncox · 3 years ago

Text

Finding Peace

This Platform Address was delivered to the Washington Ethical Society by Rev. Lyn Cox on December 5, 2021. In it, I cover this middle period of the pandemic, Hanukkah, and the pressure to be or feel a certain way during the holidays.

It’s complicated. I wish I had a sticker to put on everything this time of year with that reminder. Some of us crave color and light to lift our spirits on the shortest days of the year. Some of us crave quiet and serenity. Some of us can’t deal with too much jollity in the midst of grief. Some of us just want to be left alone to finish our work before the deadline at the end of the calendar year. It’s complicated.

Some of us live the month of December in constant protest of encroaching hegemony, resisting the enmeshment of church and state and marketplace, trying to escape non-consensual holiday music in public places. Some of us are happy to reclaim and re-interpret, or have nostalgic feelings for certain songs and stories even if we don’t have literal agreement, or find these celebrations we didn’t grow up with charming, or just don’t have the energy to worry about a music playlist in the face of the enormity of other issues we have to deal with. Among us, there are many different and valid approaches to winter holiday celebrations. It’s complicated.

Some of us feel pressured to appear cheerful, to create festivity, to spin a wonderland of perfection for the people around them, whether or not we feel joy in our hearts. Some of us feel pressured to be constantly serious, to be above reproach in working for justice or for our family’s economic security, to demonstrate our sober and cynical analysis of things as they are. This pressure for despairing sincerity may not leave room for flashes of joy, or signs of potential change, or for letting off steam. It’s complicated.

Some of us have been through hell, and our loved ones don’t necessarily know how to deal with that. Maybe friends have backed away, or are aggressively normal when obviously nothing is normal, or maybe neighbors try to give us too much advice, or maybe loved ones are so overly solicitous that otherwise good days are brought down by people who don’t trust that good days are yet possible. And we might need different things on different days. It is true generally, and especially in December, that we can perceive pressure to demonstrate certain attitudes or emotions, even if those feelings aren’t authentic. It’s complicated.

And, in these times, this phase of the pandemic that may or may not be the beginning of Act Three in a three-act historical arc, figuring out how to be and how to feel is complicated. We might be at once elated for those who have been able to get vaccinated, and also worried about parts of the world where vaccines aren’t accessible. We might be re-calculating our risk budgets on a daily basis, wondering what’s wise or possible or sustainable given all of the factors in public health and in our own lives. We might be looking to this season to grab whatever shreds of hope or cheer or normalcy we can muster, or we might be sad or angry all over again about what we’ve lost. We might find it difficult to relax into whatever moments of love and meaning we can find, wondering if we are allowed to have a break. It’s complicated.

The main thing I want to say to you today is that it’s OK to feel how you feel. And if you feel a different way in the next moment, that’s also fine. We’ll try our best to be gentle with ourselves and each other, because big feelings can pack a lot of energy into the way we treat our loved ones, our neighbors, and our own (tender) hearts.

So if you’re feeling sad or lonely, if grief is the fog through which you navigate most days, if you are not interested in faking happiness for the holidays, bring that into the circle. Your experience is part of the human experience. If you are fighting for the chance to feel joy, if you are wondering if it’s OK to be OK for a minute, if acknowledging the pain of the world exists side by side with acknowledging beauty and possibility, bring that into the circle. Your experience is part of the human experience. If your approach to the month of December is not the one depicted in the sales flyers, if you are feeling isolated because of the assumptions that other people make about what you must be doing or feeling or planning this time of year, bring that into the circle. Your experience is part of the human experience. It is part of our job to create space that humanizes, that recognizes authenticity and dignity and worth. Let’s receive each other as our whole selves, even as we learn and practice how to express our wholeness in life-affirming, community-supporting ways.

These times are hard. In some ways, the daily recalculations are harder than the days when everyone who was able to do so could be assured that staying at home was the best way to protect the community. I don’t miss those days, they were terrifying, yet there was a bit more simplicity to decision-making. Now, there is no one right answer. We are constantly surfing the edges of chaos. In their chapter on chaos, the authors of the book Sparks of Wonder mention how disturbing this can be. They write:

It seems to be a universal phenomenon that each of us holds “a set of ordered relations” [referencing structural anthropologist Mary Douglas] in our minds—consciously or unconsciously, we have a notion of what it means for something to be in place. If something isn’t where we expect it to be or how we expect it to be, most of us feel a sense of disorder … The human impulse is often to restore out-of-place things to our expectations of them: to make things fit, or appear, or occur, just as we want them. (p. 154)

The authors go on to elaborate about what this means for communities like ours. I’d like to back up and point out that the same urge to bring order out of chaos is what makes this pandemic time so difficult and what makes the pressure to be or to feel a certain way during the holidays so difficult. The longing for what is predictable or comfortable or orderly is very real, and predictability isn’t possible right now, even to the extent that we might have thought it was before March 2020. We want things to make sense. Instead, events feel out of control. And this part, when we are trying a few things in bits and pieces that feel a little familiar but aren’t the same as what we remember, this is really hard. Reminders of normalcy that don’t match our hopes or expectations violate that urge to impose order. Yet we know we have to adapt. So we learn to tolerate discomfort with a certain amount chaos in the service of our shared purpose, and we learn to be curious and gentle in this transition.

Similarly, the pressure we may be feeling to approach the holidays in a certain way comes from a misguided impulse to create order. Those pressures, whether internal or external, are seeking a predictable, smooth, uncluttered version of reality. That’s not how reality is, and trying to make it so can be harmful. Attempting to control other people, suppressing emotions, silencing untidy experiences, these are dehumanizing. Being Humanist involves some openness to the messiness that comes with being authentically human, though we do need to be mindful of our impact on others in the ways we express and cope with those authentic human experiences.

Rather than attempting to dehumanize people, or give in to the harmful aspect of the impulses that arise in us as we move through a chaotic, disordered world, the authors of Sparks of Wonder remind us of our community agreements. The promises we make in communities like this one keep us rooted in our values, our relationships, our best selves. The agreements we make, such as the WES Community Relations Pact, help create boundaries that are consensual and healthy, yet that allow for the flexibility and authenticity of being human. We can’t control historical events, we can’t force ourselves and each other to feel emotions they and we aren’t feeling, we can’t glue the universe together in a way that is predictable and orderly. We can agree to act in such a way as to elicit the best in each other and thereby in ourselves. This is how we make peace with each other and our own hearts: acceptance of unpredictability, yet commitment to our collective wellbeing and liberation. The authors of Sparks of Wonder conclude:

Human communities are messy places—always surprising us with new ways to create chaos. But they’re also all we’ve got. We’re the only ones who will save ourselves from our own human folly, greed, and indifference. This is why so many of us invest our life energy in sustaining human community: it’s up to us to figure it out for ourselves. (p. 157)

Investing life energy brings me back around to Hanukkah, a festival of dedication. One of the lessons of Hanukkah is to remain true to your values and your community in the midst of struggle. This is a time to return to the places and the people and the values that might get lost among the pressures of living in the world. The Maccabees didn’t wait to rededicate the center of their community life, halfway through the greatest challenge of their generation. It took collective work, room for lament, creative use of resources, tolerance of imperfection, and a fierce declaration of human worth and joy in the midst of it all.

This, too, is our calling now. We re-create community together, over and over again. Bring your human experience, bring your ability to adapt, bring your heart for liberating community. Peace within does not have to wait for an absence of conflict or challenge; peace within comes from acceptance of the realities of being human and from congruence with our values. This is the time of dedication.

May it be so.

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thiswasinevitableid · 5 years ago

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any chance you could write some sternclay hannukah fic? as wholesome or naughty as you like

I certainly can! I went with fluffy, and I hope it turned out okay.

Joseph Stern does his best not to take personal offense at the existence of inanimate objects.

But the “Merry Christmas” signs hanging down the entire main street of Kepler are on thin fucking ice.

He knows small towns tend to lean towards homogeneity. He knows that many municipal agencies treat Christmas as a non-denominational day celebrated by everyone.

The sign simply reminds him of being scolded by a grade school teacher for telling the other students that his family wasn’t visited by Santa, which suggested an inherent flaw in the idea of Santa’s existence.

Or not being able to get the holidays he needed off of work during college, because those weren’t “real” holidays according to his boss.

Or not being allowed to have his mini T-rex menorah on his desk at the UP because it was a religious symbol and he worked in a government agency.

He can’t shake the bad mood as he finishes his errands and heads back towards the lodge. Snow falls in clumps on his windshield as he pulls up in front, just in time to see Bigfoot and Mothman carrying a large pine tree into the lobby.

Home sweet home.

“Kay just, uh, hold it steady for a sec there ‘Drid.” Duck’s legs stick out from beneath the tree as he twists it into a stand, Indrid holding it upright while he does. Barclay sees Stern just as he slips on his bracelet, and by the time he’s kissing him he’s human again.

“Hey, babe.”

“Hi. Getting prepared for the season, I see.”

“Yep” Barclay grins excitedly, “finally found the perfect C-”

“Christmas tree, yes, I know, I’m Jewish, not oblivious.” Stern hears the bitterness, takes a breath and shuts his eyes, prepared to apologize for once again harshing others holiday cheer by reminding them that Jewish people exist.

“No…” Barclay is making his worried-about-Stern face, “It’s the Candlenights tree.”

“Come again?”

“Did that plenty this morning.” Barclay bounces his eyebrows, and Stern rolls his eyes.

“Candlenights is a winter holiday on Sylvain. It’s supposed to be a time of rest and warmth, of remembering that it’s alright to take time to focus on love and peace and comfort.”

“But that’s obviously a Christmas tree.”

Barclay shrugs, “You’re supposed to have a big piece of greenery as one of the decorations, a representation of the beauty of the land around you. Some families decorate a tree in their yard, or grow a flower bush specifically to use, stuff like that.”

“Mine had a blue mallow tree. It smelled like sugar. And the blossoms were delicious.” Indrid chimes in as he puts on his glasses.

“Is that why you put marshmallows on the tree in the apartment?” Duck brushes pine needles off himself.”

“Maybe.”

Barclay continues, “You decorate it with lights and flowers. And, well, the Christmas tree is a great way of having that tradition in the lodge without people wondering what the fuck we’re doing and asking too many questions.”

“So...Candlenights is tonight?”

“It starts tomorrow. It’s kinda like Hanukah, but it lasts five days rather than eight nights. Each day centers around a concept: light, warmth, comfort, growth, love. Er, that’s the translation from Sylph, at least.”

“That sounds pleasant.” Stern smiles a bit, watches Hollis and Jake untangling strings of lights with varying degrees of success, “I’m, I’m glad you all are able to celebrate the way you did back home.”

“Me too. Uh, you know you can celebrate with us right? The lodge is your home too.”

“Thank you.” He kisses Barclays cheek and heads towards his room while the cook heads off towards the kitchen.

It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the offer. And he’s actually curious about what’s essentially an alien cultural ceremony.

But he wishes he had what he needed to observe Hanukkah. So that he could feel connected to his past, and his home, the way the Sylphs will tomorrow.

-------------------------------------------------

He’s up early the next morning, wanders out into the lobby with his coffee mug. It’s quiet save for the crackling fire and distant sounds of Mama in her office and Barclay in the kitchen.

The tree is lit with orange and white lights, and does look rather festive.

But it’s something on the window near the tree catches his attention.

It’s clearly supposed to be a serpent version of the Loch Ness Monster (Stern’s preferred version, given that the more popular pleisiosaur is the least likely of all explanations for the creature).

And it has nine candle holders on it.

“Happy Hanukah, handsome.” Barclay’s voice is a soft rumble in his ear as the taller man hugs him from behind, “Know it doesn’t officially start until tonight, but seemed like I oughta give you this ahead of time. Plus, it matches nicely with the first day of Candlenights.”

“True.” Stern murmurs, “Barclay this, this is wonderful.”

“Glad you like it. Had it made special.”

Stern turns in his arms, kissing him long and slow, not caring that the flour on his apron is now on Sterns shirt. He’s grown used to floury hugs and sugared kisses, Barclay stealing them from him in between moments at work. He wouldn’t trade them for the world.

-------------------------------------------

The next day, Stern nearly has a heart attack when he opens his bedroom door.

“BUNNY SWEATER TIME!”

“GAH!oh, hello Aubrey. Doctor.”

Aubrey grins at him, while Dr. Harris Bonkers, PhD, attempts to chew his way out of his small, black sweater, emblazoned with flames. It matches Aubrey’s own.

“I didn’t realize you two, or, ah, three” he waves to Dani, “were vising from Sylvain.”

“Just for today and tomorrow. Dani needs to give Barclay his gift.”

Dani proudly hoists a thick, knitted sweater that reads “Kiss the cook.”

Stern pads into the lobby, finds it more active than the previous morning. Sitting by his menorah is a flat box, wrapped in silver paper. When he opens it, he finds a thick sweater, and braces himself. More than once has he been given a holiday sweater that was blatantly Christmas themed.

This one, however, is a tasteful, dark blue with silver snowflakes and UFOs patterned across it. Stern pulls it on, finds it fits perfectly.

“Looking good dude!” Jake calls from his position teaching Dr. Harris Bonkers how to play on a Nintendo DS. Stern settles on the couch, picks up his paperback from where he set it yesterday.

“Ah good, Barclay took my suggestion.”

“JEsus.” Stern’s unprepared for the red glasses poking out of a nearby pile of fabric.

Indrid answers the question before he asks it, “Electric blanket, a gift from Duck. Barclay was torn between that sweater and a Bigfoot themed one. I foresaw you liking that option slightly better. It suits you well.”

“Thank you.” Stern rubs the soft fabric, feeling deeply cozy, and settles in to read.

That evening, he’s getting ready to light the menorah when he spots Barclays reflection beside his own in the window.

“Can, uh, is it okay if I join you?”

“Of course.”

Barclay watches intently, listens as Stern recites the blessing. When Stern is done he joins his boyfriend in a large easy chair.

“There anything else you miss from, like, celebrating Hanukkah as a kid?”

“How do you mean?” Stern rests his head on his shoulder with a sleepy sigh,

“Well, back on Sylvain, there are these almost scone-like things, made out of honeyberries. They don’t taste like anything you get on earth. I smuggled preserved honeyberries through the gate every year around this time just so I could make some. Vincent never could turn down a Twinkie bribe to look the other way.”

“Sufganiyot. My mom always got them from a place called Greenbush back home.”

“Jelly doughnuts, right?”

“Yes. How did you-”

“Babe, do you have any idea how many cookbooks I’ve read? At this point I’m not sure there’s a pastry I haven’t heard of.”

“That...never occurred to me.” He yawns, unsure how a day of lazing by the fire can make him so exhausted (maybe it was having to prevent a talking rabbit and a seal disguised as a skater from lighting the tree on fire. Twice).

“Bedtime. C’mon, my little Sufganiyot”

“In what sense am I little-ah, hey!” Stern laughs as Barclay scoops him up in his arms.

“You’re ridiculous” He grumbles against Barclays chest.

“You love me for it.”

Stern nestles closer, “Very true”

----------------------------------------

The next morning, he steps out his door, only for the scent of sugar to draw him towards the restaurant. He can hear Barclay speaking from within the kitchen.

“No, you can’t have any yet.”

“But, Uncle Barclay, look at how cute I am.” Dr. Harris Bonkers’ voice, if he had to guess.

“Joseph gets the first batch.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s even cuter.”

Barclay steps out the kitchen door, plate in hand, and turns bright red.

“Oops, didn’t know you were up.”

“Dear, my alarm goes off at five every morning.”

Then he sees what Barclay is holding.

“Happy Hanukkah, babe.”

Stern grabs a doughnut from the plate and devours it in three bites.

“Please tell me you made more than two.”

“Aww, babe, glad you like ‘em.”

“I do. But, uh, that’s not why I said it.”

He points to the restaurant door, where many more faces are peeking in, several licking their lips.

Barclay chuckles, “Whelp, better get frying.”

Stern grabs his usual apron from the near the kitchen door.

“I’ll help.”

Day four starts equally pleasantly, with him discovering a small, pleasingly round moss ball floating in a small aquarium sitting on his desk. The aquarium is decorated with a mini bigfoot figure and a mini FBI figure.

“Dani suggested that for you. I know you like having plants on your desk, but don’t always have the best luck keeping them alive.” Barclay rubs his shoulders, kissing the top of his head as he sits at the desk.

“I love it. Oh! Today is growth, right?”

“Yep.” Another kiss.

“Stay right here.” Stern rummages through the closet, pulling out the large, wrapped package he’s had for the last two weeks.

“Merry? Candlenights, Barclay. I wasn’t quite sure when to give it to you, but today seems like the best choice.”

Barclay unwraps the package on the bed, laughs delightedly when he sees what’s inside.

“Counter-top herb garden. Nice thinking, handsome.”

“You’re always saying how you miss not having fresh herbs to work with in the winter, so it seemed riiiight, oh lord, I, I have a phone call with Hayes in ten minutes, big guy, don’t start anything you can’t finish in that time.”

“Don’t worry,” Barclay rumbles from his new position kneeling on the floor, undoing Sterns pants as he kisses his stomach, “I’ll make real fucking sure you finish.”

------------------------------------------------------------

It’s day five, and for the first time there’s nothing greeting Stern when he wakes up. He’s not terribly worried, and anyway he has to finish the briefing instructions for the new agents being sent to guard the inactive gate (his notes make no mention of the new, active gate a mile away).

Barclay joins him, as he has the last three nights, to light the menorah before heading back into the restaurant to feed residents and winter tourists. He busies himself with chores and crossword puzzles until Barclay is done with the night shift.

When his boyfriend finally joins him for the night, he has his hands behind his back and a smile on his face that puts Indrid Cold’s to shame. Wordlessly, he hands Stern a box covered in gold paper.

“That’s certainly a hefty package” Stern smirks as he opens it, then gapes at the contents.

“It’s, how, where did, did you make this?”

“I had it cast so, uh, yeah? It’s for times when you get lonely, or like, have to go on business trips.”

“Lord, Barclay, they even got the color right. Do they even know that they were making a toy from the real Bigfoot’s co-”

“No, and I intend to keep that way. Now…” Barclay crawls on top of him, fingers working his pajamas off, “how about we break in your new toy?”

----------------------------------------------

Stern rolls over in bed the next morning to see Barclay stepping out of the shower, towel around his waist. The Sylph notices him, comes to the bed to give him a kiss.

“Oh, here, wanted to give this to you before I go to work.” He holds out a small package, unmistakably the shape of a DVD box. Stern smiles excitedly to discover the entire X-Files series contained within it. Then he frowns.

“Wait, Candlenights ended yesterday.”

“Yeah. But it’s still hanukkah, right?”

“Yes…”

“Babe, what did you think I was getting you those presents for.”

“I, well, I assumed you were trying to mesh my holiday with yours, so you’d only get me things during Candlenights-”

“You only give someone a gift on one day of that.”

“Really?”

“Yep. I just thought it would be fun to kinda tie my first five for you to Candlenights. Give you a taste of it without, like, pressuring you to be a part of it or making you give up something important to you. But I’ve had Hanukah stuff picked out for you since, like, September. And, uh, if there’s other stuff around it you wanna do or share with me, just say the word.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do that for me, it would have been easier just to do Candlenights. Lord knows it wouldn't be the first time my practices were overlooked, I could have handled it.”

“Because I love you, Joseph. I want you to be happy. When I told you the lodge was your home, and I meant it. And being home means having the space to celebrate things that are important to you.”

“You, I-” Stern shifts under the covers, feeling suddenly very vulnerable.

“Is my special agent speechless? Because that’d be a first.”

“Yes, though the exact reason for it escapes me. Thank you, Barclay. For doing all this for me.”

Barclay nuzzles his cheek with a smile, “Any time, babe. And hey,” he tilts Sterns chin up so their eyes meet, “I love you.”

Stern’s smile is like a warm flame spreading across his face, “I love you too.”

#TAZ Amnesty #Sternclay #fluff #agent stern/barclay #reader requests

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totally-incorrect-theatre-quotes · 5 years ago

Text

Not the Most Wonderful Time of the Year (fanfic)

Lydia prepares to celebrate her first Christmas without her mother.

This..this is pretty angsty but also fluffy? It has a happy ending I swear.

Lydia had never been one of those people that were obsessed with Christmas and the Christman season. She didn’t dislike the holiday by any means, but it wasn’t her favorite, nobody in her family got super into it besides her uber-religious grandparents. Her mom and dad would take her to church on Christmas eve with the rest of the extended family but the rest of the holiday with filled with littler traditions they came up with as a family. As Lydia got older she learned that her mom didn’t have the most loving and affectionate family growing up and that’s why she tried to hard to get everything right for Lydia. She would make her own traditions and set her own standards, she was creating a family that not only supported Lydia growing up but made up for the crappy childhood Emily had. The Santa lie was quickly dropped when a seven-year-old Lydia displayed disgust at the prospect of this strange man with questionable business ethics sneaking into her house in the middle of the night, but the family still had their own unique way of making the holiday special.

Emily died in the middle of December the previous year, she had been sick for almost two years by that point and her body couldn’t fight anymore. She slipped away on the eighteenth of December and everything had been such a blur of emotions and funeral preparations and a parade of semi sympathetic family members that Christmas was thrown to the wayside. Charles still tried to get a smile out of his broken-hearted daughter but the feeble attempts to recreate the old traditions did nothing but further upset Lydia who spent the day locked in her room sobbing as she stared at photographs and in the mirror at her newly short and black hair wondering if she was even worthy enough to look like her mother. Though that day was technically her first Christmas without her mom it had been such a blur that she hadn’t even had time to process the loss. As the days grew closer this year it started to dawn on her that she would never run downstairs again to find her parents sitting down on the couch in their living room in front of their chaotically decorated tree, she’d never see her mom bury her face in her mug when Lydia went to open the present that her parents said she wouldn’t be getting, she’d never spend another Christmas morning having a gingerbread house decorating contest, she’d never have another Christmas eve where her parents would still have her leave out milk and cookies for Santa even though Lydia was much too old for Santa. Sure she had lots to distract her from her all-consuming thoughts with everyone in the house and celebrating Hanukkah with Wendy, but nothing could change the fact that on Christmas Eve Lydia was sitting alone on her bed, clutching a photograph from many Christmas’s ago in her shaking hands, unsure if she wanted to cry, scream, or throw the picture frame at the wall and watch the glass shatter around on the floor.

The whole month had been an emotional rollercoaster for her bouncing from having a panic attack at school, to the isolating loneliness that came with the anniversary of Emily’s death, to the heartwarming celebration of a new culture when she spent the first night of Hanukkah with Wendy and her family, and now the numbness she was overwhelmed with now. It was a strange sensation to be overwhelmed with numbness, it somehow both felt like everything and nothing at all. Filled with so many conflicting emotions that they all canceled each other out, leaving her feeling empty inside. There were so many other months that had less going on, Lydia couldn’t help but feel as though she was being punished with her mother’s death occurring right before Christmas. She knew that was a stupid thing to be annoyed by but now every single Christmas or Hanukkah from this point forward would always compete with the sadness Lydia felt when she thought about the loss of her mother. December Eighteenth. Every holiday would feel as though it was missing something, no matter how many people she added, no matter the friends she made or the family she found. Nothing would replace the hole where Emily Deetz once existed.

Though her therapist told her that keeping all these feelings boxed up inside of her was not good for her mental health she didn’t want to ruin anyone else’s holiday. The Maitland’s seemed so excited to have people to buy presents for, Delia was big into decorating, and though he was never crazy about it when she was little even her dad was getting into the Christmas spirit, making Lydia groan whenever he would kiss Delia underneath the mistletoe. The only person Lydia could pretend the holiday didn’t exist with was Beetlejuice, but now even with the day getting closer, he was constantly asking Lydia questions about Christmas. They were often stupid and funny questions so they were a welcome distraction but tonight she was alone. Everyone was sleeping or pretending to sleep in the Maitland’s case. She knew they were just upstairs in the attic and she could spend the night with them is she wanted to, but she couldn’t bring herself to get up. Even her cats noticed the difference in her demeanor, the usually distant Kraken was snuggled up with her on one side, and the always cuddly Cation on the other.

The clock on her dresser glowed midnight, and though she was exhausted she slid out of bed and went back over to the pile of presents she had accumulated in her room for all the family members. She remembered how happy she was at the beginning of the month, spending hours online and out shopping with Wendy trying to find the perfect presents for the wonderful people she got to call her family. She didn’t make a ton of money babysitting Skye but she wanted to splurge on them, they had done so much for her in the past few months, she wanted to let them know how much she appreciated it. She ran her fingers on the nicely curled bows and perfectly wrapped gifts knowing that she had to admit defeat and ask Barbara and Delia for help. It worked out really well because she didn’t want them to know what she got them so she just had the other person wrap it. One present she wrapped for herself though, and she debated on if she was going to put it under the tree. Her mother couldn’t open it anyway, she wasn’t exactly sure why she spent her money on it but she couldn’t get rid of this nagging feeling in her heart until she had a gift for Emily. She told her therapist how stupid it made her feel, and while she knew her family wouldn’t tease her for it she still worried they would think the same thing she was. It was dumb, she was dumb for doing it, she...she shook her head and went back to her bed just wishing the holiday was over already and she could move on with her life.

She eventually passed out around two in the morning and woke up around ten in the morning. Christmas morning was a lot more casual now that Lydia was older, no more running downstairs at seven in the morning to see if Santa had come, it was now whenever Lydia rolled out of bed. She stood in the mirror ruffling her hair, noting that her blonde roots were starting to show and she was going to have to decide if she was going to go back to being blonde or dye her hair again. She straightened out her fuzzy pajamas and carried the armload of presents down the stairs to find the whole family hanging around the living room, Delia, her dad, and the Maitland’s talking about dinner that night and making sure there were kosher options for Wendy, though she wasn’t super strict about it. Beetlejuice was nursing some eggnog and glaring at her cat. While she was staring at her family, they hadn’t yet noticed she was standing behind them, Lydia decided that she wasn’t going to completely ruin her holiday by lamenting over things she couldn’t change. No matter how hard she wished it, nothing would change the family that the holidays would never have her mother in them again. Blinking away a tear in her eye she greeted everyone warmly and joined them around the Christmas tree.

“Merry Christmas Lydia!” Barbara wrapped her in a warm hug, Barbara was practically bouncing up and down in excitement to give Lydia her present. Charles grumbled a little teasingly because he also wanted to give Lydia her present, but knowing Barbara he let her go first. Lydia tore through the cat pattern wrapping paper and revealed a beautiful hand-painted portrait of her two cats. She couldn’t hold back a grin and she threw herself into a tight hug with the ghost profusely thanking her and how much she loved it. She got everything right from Cation’s grey and green eyes to Kraken’s cheeky smile. While it wasn’t a contest she didn’t know if anything could quite beat that, and it seemed like Barbara knew it because she was beaming.

Next, her father handed her a small package, and a larger package all wrapped in spare silver paper that Lydia had used for Wendy’s Hanukkah present, he smiled when handing it to her and said, “Open the small one first, I wasn’t sure if it’s your style but I hope you like it.”

Lydia carefully ripped the wrapping and opened the jewelry box to see a heart-shaped pendant with pink, white, and orange stripes. Lydia leaned her head against her father’s chest, “Aw dad thank you so much! I love it!”

“I know you have a lot of the rainbow pride things, and I wasn’t sure if you had any of the lesbian pride flag.” He blushed, “I know there’s a lot of controversy over the flag so I hope I got the right one.”

“It’s perfect dad, I love it.” She hugged him tightly extremely proud of the progress he’s made when it came to her identity. He was always accepting, he never once wavered in his love for her but he had gaps of knowledge when it came to it, but instead of remaining ignorant he was constantly learning and working to support his daughter. She teased him a lot but he really did try very hard to be a good father, and she appreciated everything. She must have been looking at the necklace for too long because her father was eagerly pushing the larger box towards her, she opened it up and was stunned to see the camera she had been begging for all year but her father swore he wasn’t going to be able to get because it was out of stock. She hung the strap around her neck and started taking pictures of everything going on throughout the rest of Christmas morning. Adam got her a set of new tea flavors that she had been wanting to try, Delia got her sweaters for her cats that Lydia instantly put them in and threw a mini photoshoot, and finally Beeteljucie tossed her a present wrapped only in tissue paper and scotch tape. She carefully unwrapped and laughed when she saw he got her “Cards Against Humanity” and fuzzy cat socks. He pretended not to smile when Lydia thanked him announcing he knew all along what to get her because he’s just that intuned to her interests, but secretly he was relieved she liked it. He spent hours trying to figure out what to get his best friend.

Lydia excitedly gave her presents to everyone: a new paint set for Barbara, a set of crystals for Delia, a model train starter kit for Adam, and a DNA kit for her father because he always talked about wanting to know about where he came from. They were all very thankful and they all lounged around in the torn-up wrapping paper while enjoying each other’s company. Lydia bit back a grimace when her father suggested a gingerbread house decorating contest, but seeing how excited everyone else got she couldn’t bring herself to say no. For the next two hours they kitchen turned from clean to a frosting, sprinkles, and gumdrop disastrous mess. In the end, Lydia’s house came in second just behind Delia’s who shockingly had a very impressive house. Lydia had never known how good her stepmother was at design, while her and her father had decorated the house it was always too outlandish for Lydia’s taste. The gingerbread house looked perfect though, the cookie ceiling had frosting icicle. It broke Lydia’s heart that Beetlejuice started eating it before she got a good photo of it.

She had been doing a good job of distracting herself, any time she caught herself slipping in her happy facade she threw herself into another mindnumbing task knowing it would keep her mind occupied until Wendy arrived. She was midway cutting up the potatoes for the side dish when there was a knocking at the door. Lydia quickly brushed her hands clean on a dish towel next to her and ran over to the door, almost slipping on the hardwood. She straightened up her red and green Santa hat and opened up the door. Wendy smiled warmly and Lydia pulled her in for a welcoming hug. Charles and Delia greeted Wendy as they walked into the kitchen, Barbara and Adam hugged her, and Beetlejuice shot her finger guns from the distance saying, “Happy holidays Weslie.”

“At least he’s getting closer,” Wendy whispered to Lydia

She simply rolled her eyes, “He knows your name he’s just trying to be a prick and pretend that he doesn’t care about my life. Honestly, the funny part is hearing what W name he’s going to use next to describe you, there’s only so many.”

“Last week I heard him call me Walter when we were talking on the phone.”

“Yeah that’s just BJ.”

The dinner went smoothly, Lydia felt bad that the traditional Christmas dinner was ham and Wendy couldn’t have it, but they did make a small turkey for her to eat. Once dinner was over they cleaned up the dishes and had a monstrous amount of cookies for dessert. Lydia didn’t realize how into baking Barbara was until the kitchen tables and counters were covered with what must have been hundreds if not a thousand cookies. They were all starting to get stuffed and tired from the long day, everyone was relaxing on the couch, Lydia and Wendy trying to hide the fact that they were holding hands underneath the blankets when Beetlejuice began to loudly and incorrectly sing Christmas carols. The snow was peacefully falling outside the window, making the evening almost as cheesy as a Christmas card. Everything looked so perfect, and Lydia tried to hard to push away the uncomfortableness she felt brewing within her. She wanted so desperately to be happy, to just feel happy, she should be happy. Everyone around her looks so happy, she is surrounded by family, and friends, and loved ones. She thought this should be enough, she should be satisfied. She halfheartedly laughed whenever BJ started screeching the wrong words to “Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer” and smiled when he pulled up Wendy from the couch to dance with him and the Maitlands.

After preparing a large plate of cookies and other goodies for Wendy to take home to her family in exchange for the delicious Hanukkah treats they sent with Lydia the two girls were left alone to say goodbye for the night. It was almost the exact same as it was three nights ago when they were celebrating Hanukkah but this time it was Wendy handing Lydia a small wrapped gift. Opening it carefully she smiled gratefully when she opened another small jewelry box to find a bracelet with charms on it signifying inside jokes they had. They spent a good five minutes just reminiscing in their jokes, Lydia’s personal favorite the serotonin molecule from when she was hanging out at Wendy’s house and said she could really go for some serotonin and Wendy went up to go look for some, forgetting what it actually was. Lydia pulled her girlfriend into a loving hug, leaning her head on the crook between Wendy’s neck and shoulder.

“Get a room.” Beetlejuice teased, leaning against the doorway, “Ya know doing this kind of stuff in front of your ex-husband isn’t very becoming Lydia. I just want you to know I’m not the jealous type, I don’t care what you do with Winston-”

“Wendy,” Lydia corrected sarcastically, “One, I’m literally a lesbian. Two you died so technically you’re not my ex-husband I’m your widow. And third, that wedding was a green card thing and YOU KNOW IT!”

Beetlejuice raised his hands up defensively, “I’m joking, I’m joking! You gotta relax kid, I have literally never been interested in you. I’m more interested in Sexy and Babs.”

“Then PLEASE go bother the Maitlands.” Lydia pleaded as she held onto Wendy’s hand while trying to give Beetlejuice a look explaining that she’s trying to have a moment and he’s ruining it. He supposedly got the hint because he went to turn around but not before snapping his fingers and pointing upwards above Lydia and Wendy’s head.

“Looks like mistletoe to me Scarecrow.”

Lydia glanced up and her face tinted pink when she saw the green and red plant hanging above their heads. Wendy snickered, her nose scrunching up like a bunny which Lydia thought was incredibly adorable. She started t stutter out some excuse that they didn’t have to do it, and that Beetlejuice was being an annoying brother figure again, and that mistletoe was stupid in the first place but Wendy was having none of that. She leaned down and gave her a soft kiss on the lips before hugging her goodbye once more and running out to her parents’ car. Lydia stood there with a dumb-happy grin on her face for a solid minute before Beetlejuice reappeared in the room making kissy noises at her. She threw the closest thing within grabbing distance, which unfortunately happened to be one of Delia’s strange rocks. Beetlejuice simply caught it and tossed it around in his hands before telling Lydia to not be so easy to pick on so he doesn’t have to keep bugging her. She rolled her eyes at him again as she walked back into the living room. For the rest of the evening, they sat and watched cheesy Christmas movies and drank hot chocolate, deciding that a new tradition they would adopt would be to guess how much liquor BJ put in the eggnog. Charles took one sip and instantly spit it out it burned of alcohol so much. Beetlejuice tried to sneak some spiked eggnog to Lydia but was stopped almost instantly as literally everyone was watching him and even Lydia refused the absurdly strong drink.

Everyone had gone to bed around eleven at night, and Beetlejuice went...whereever it is Beetlejuice goes when nobody else is around. Lydia was about to head up to her bedroom and edit some of the photos she had taken in order to keep herself distracted from the growing pit of dread in her stomach. She wished everyone a Merry Christmas and was about to go into her room when her father pulled her aside and gestured for her to follow him into his room. She sat down on his one chair while he went to grab something from the closet. He returned with a nicely done gift bag, stuffed with white and glittery tissue paper and the two handles tied up in a neat bow.

“Dad you already got me more than everything I wanted, you really didn’t have to.” She smiled sweetly

He fiddled with his hands, taking in a deep breath, “This isn’t from me.”

“Who’s it from?”

“Your mother. She bought it for you last year before...I don’t know what it is. Remember all those Christmas mornings when I’d have no clue what she got you?” He handed her a card that came with the gift and Lydia stared down shocked to see her mother’s familiar scrawl on the envelope. She always looped her Ls weird, something Lydia had copied into writing her own name, but seeing it again, writing that came from a pen that her mother had held...it was resurfacing all the feelings she had been trying so hard to keep pushed down just for today. She kept repeating to herself in her mind that she was fine, she was okay, her mom was gone, there was nothing she could do about it, don’t cry it’s Christmas, don’t ruin everyone else’s good time, don’t don’t don’t.

She curled her fists into her hair, almost dropping the gift bag onto the floor. Charles pulled Lydia into a hug and everything she had been holding in came flooding out. She started sobbing against her father’s chest, her tiny body shaking with such violence that Charles gripped onto her tighter in an attempt to calm her. She wanted to stop, she wanted to stop crying and just go back to how it had been during the day but she couldn’t help herself. She missed her mother. She missed her mother so much, and it wasn’t fair that she couldn’t see her again. She’d never have another Christmas, or New Years, or Halloween with her. Never. She knew she was soaking her father’s shirt with her tears but he didn’t move away, he just stroked her hair, and told it that it was okay.

“It’s not okay dad. It’s not okay, it’s not ever going to be okay. She’s dead, she’s never coming back, and this is the last present she ever got me. I tried really hard, I tried really hard to be okay today. Everyone else is so fucking happy and I didn’t want to ruin it for everyone else. I screwed it all up, I’m ruining your day, you tried to do this really nice and sweet thing for me and I’m a goddamn mess!” She gasped out between her hiccuping-sobs

“Lydia, Lydia sweetheart it’s okay! You’re not ruining anybody’s Christmas. I’m so sorry you felt like you had to keep this all from us because you thought it would upset us. Honey, I’ve been missing her a lot today too. I was holed up in my office all last night flipping through old photo albums of our Christmases wishing we had gotten just one more. That’s when I remembered this present. I packed it away last year, I thought it would be too hard for you back then but I shouldn’t have hidden it from you.”

Lydia sniffled a little, still clutching the present in her hands unsure if she was ready to see what was inside. Lydia set the present down gently on the floor, grabbed her father’s hand and slumped down on his bed. She knew she was getting too big for this, but she really just wanted to be close to someone right now. He laid on his back and she rested her head on his stomach while he gently rubbed the back of her shirt. She was still crying, “I feel so broken. It’s supposed to be the happiest time of the year and the whole month I’ve been a trainwreck with one crisis after another”

“It’s okay for it to not be “the most wonderful time of the year.” a lot of people have struggles around Christmas and this is going to be one of yours. I wish it didn’t have to be, I want so badly for her to still be here with you but we can’t rewind the clock. You don’t have to pretend you’re alright though, it is okay for you to be sad, for you to miss her. We can talk about her, we can still keep her alive in our traditions and everything else.”

She nodded her head, “I know it probably sounds stupid but I got her a present, I know she can’t open it but I got it for her because I couldn’t bring myself not to.”

“It’s not stupid at all honey. It’s incredibly sweet, you should have put in under the tree this morning.”

“Why? There’s nobody to open it.”

“I think it would have made you feel a lot better,” he tried to explain, “I think you would have not been holding all this in all day.”

Lydia thought about it, wondering if all of this could have been avoided if she just talked about it. She was always on her dad’s case for never wanting to talk about things but here she was hiding her feelings from her family. She did it all the time, now that she thought about it. Ever since she moved to Connecticut she had been so preoccupied trying to not ruin the happiness everyone was supposedly experiencing that she just buried down her own problems, only talking about them when they boiled over and she had a breakdown. She laid with her father in a peaceful silence for a few minutes before she sat up and crawled over to where the present was laying. She debated opening it alone but she knew whatever it was it was going to make her cry, she didn’t want to be alone anymore.

She undid the ribbon and slowly removed the tissue paper. She held the gift in her hands, mesmerized by the object in her hands. It was a snowglobe. When she first pulled it out of the bag she was kind of confused, she had never collected snowglobes but when she turned it around she saw that inside the glass was two photographs of their family. One when Lydia was just a baby, the other a photo they had taken just a few weeks before Emily had died. She grazed her thumb over the glass and showed it to her father who smiled bittersweetly at the gift. She noticed there was a turn-key on the bottom and when she wound it up she couldn’t help but smile when it started to play that song her mother always sang when they were cleaning up. It was strange to hear “Jump in the Line” in a music box tune. She knew there were tears in her eyes but they weren’t as urgent feeling as the ones from just a few minutes ago. It felt alright to cry, she wasn’t exactly sad but she wasn’t happy. It was strange.

She and her father sat on the bed listening to the snowglobe play it’s tune over and over again while looking at old photos from Christmas’s of long ago and not so long ago. Her dad must have texted Delia because she never came into the bedroom that night, she felt bad about it especially because she was fifteen years old now, she shouldn’t need to fall asleep in her daddy’s room but he assured her that Delia completely understood. She snuggled under his blankets, he kissed her goodnight on her forehead. It did not take long for her dad to fall asleep, his loud snoring quickly filling the room but Lydia didn’t mind. For the first time all day she didn’t have this crippling tension building up in her body, she was relaxed and she knew that her father was right. It was okay if it wasn’t the most wonderful time of the year.

#lydia deetz #delia deetz #adam maitland #barbara maitland #charles deetz #lawrence beetlejuice shoggoth #presley ryan #sophia anne caruso #dana steingold #leslie kritzer #kerry butler #rob mcclure #alex brightman #beetlejuice #incorrect beetlejuice quotes #beetlegeuse #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice fanfic #beetlejuice fanfiction

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hope-for-olicity · 5 years ago

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Hope for the Holidays 1/?

Happy Holidays Everyone! I’d like to dedicate this story to all those who have taken the time to read my stories - I’m so grateful! I hope you enjoy this AU where Felicity and Oliver meet over the holidays when they find love right next door. Thanks so much to @mel-loves-all for the lovely edit. Also available on AO3.

1. There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays

“Grr Argh. This is never going to work.” Felicity placed her head on her desk next to her laptop.

“No need to get dramatic, it worked once and it will work again.” Felicity’s best friend and business partner was always best at reassuring her.

“It worked once! And it’s in my spine! One time and I can’t replicate it with the updates. It’s like my brain can’t process the code. Which is impossible because it’s MY BRAIN!”

“Okay,” Caitlin looked at her phone. “It’s now almost seven o’clock I think we should call it a day. We aren’t going to solve it tonight and I promised Emma I’d read her a bedtime story tonight.”

“Of course! Go home! Emma should have her story. I’ll just…”

“Go home. Walk out the door with me. Because, Felicity my darling friend that is what you are doing. There is a nice box of food at your house to cook. Remember you signed up for one of those ingredient meal boxes? You will go home cook yourself a nice meal, get a good nights sleep and tomorrow we will drink all the coffee and solve this. Okay?”

Felicity laughed. She loved her best friend, she knew Caitlin was right, they needed a break and a little self-care. Maybe then her ginormous brain would start computing again.

~~~~~

As Felicity walked home as light snow began to fall. She smiled. She always loved this time of year, it felt like there was magic in the air. The twinkle lights, the smells of holiday food and the feeling of anticipation in the air just brought her joy. She always wished she had someone to share it with.

Yes, she had friends, amazing friends but they were busy with their own growing families. Her mother recently remarried, she was staying put in Vegas with her new husband instead fo joining Felicity for Hanukkah.

So this would be a quiet holiday season for her. She did get invitations for parties but they felt a little like pity invites. She would light her menorah alone this year without her mother’s fabulous food. She knew she would especially miss the Sufganiyot, jelly donuts.

This was definitely the time of year that shone a spotlight on the fact she was alone. Her mother was always encouraging her to date but after her last boyfriend, Cooper, work seemed safer. Oh well, maybe next year.

As she approached her apartment building she decided to shake off the pity party, brought on my hunger she was sure. She was going to cook a good meal and watch a holiday movie, it would be sure to cheer her up.

~~~~~

Oliver Queen looked around his new digs. He had been working at the Queen Consolidated London office for the past couple of years but would be officially transferring home at the start of the year. His little sister found him this condo to rent and he had to say he was pretty impressed.

The main floor was a wide-open space with a wall of window, he liked the open concept for the living room and kitchen. He smiled as he noticed the built-in fireplaces at either end, so Thea, she was always cold. He looked up noticing the high ceilings, before turning to see the steps that up to the bedrooms, he’d head up there in a moment, first he had a phone call to make.

“Do you love it? Because if you don’t love it, I do and it’s mine,” She answered, Oliver swore she was smiling.

“Woah, I do love it and it’s mine BUT you are welcome to visit and warm yourself by the fireplaceS any time. In fact,” Oliver walked over and took a seat in the lovely comfy leather coach Thea picked. “If you want to come over tonight we can order pizza and catch up?”

“Umm, I’d love to but I kind of have a, I’m meeting this new guy, I’m…”

“It’s okay if you have a date, Thea. I know you are an adult and you date now. But remember if he hurts you, I’ll kill him.” Oliver used his sternest voice to make sure Thea understood.

“Very funny. I promise I’ll come by tomorrow after work. Maybe we can have pizza then? Do you like the furniture?”

“I love everything I’ve seen so far. I’m sure it’s great Thea. Thanks so much for setting this place up. I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”

“Bring coffee, please!”

“I promise not to show up empty-handed.” Oliver chuckled before saying goodbye to his sister.

He was glad she was dating. Oliver had gotten to the point in life where most of his friends were married with children. He met many lovely women in London, but not the one. Much to his mother’s relief he knew. Maybe now that he was back stateside…

~~~~~

Felicity placed all the ingredients from the box on the counter and began reading the recipe instructions, she could do this. It would be like building a computer. Just follow the directions. Always a good idea to give yourself a pep talk.

She read and followed the directions for the casserole. It kind of looked like the picture, success! See, she could cook. She put the dish in the preheated oven and set the timer. She sat down and hit play on her movie while she waiting for her supper to cook.

It wasn’t long before there was a strong burning smell and smoke began to fill the room, followed quickly by a loud beeping smoke alarm. “Oh no! Oh no!!!” Felicity rushed to the kitchen, grabbed her oven mitts, before opening the oven to get a full face of smoke which then revealed a severely burned and beyond edible casserole. Oh no! Felicity had tears in her eyes, what did she do wrong?

She didn’t have much time to contemplate as she heard banging on her door, which was impressive over the loud beeping of the smoke detector. She rushed to the door, stubbing her toe on the way. “Frack, frack, frack, FRACK!”

Felicity was hopping on one foot by the time she reached the door. Without looking through the peephole she threw the door open.

Everything stopped. The man in front of her looked like some guy from the superhero movies and shows she loved. Chiselled jaw, perfect scruff, piercing blue eyes, talk, broad…..perfect. “Are you here to save me?” She wondered.

“Why yes, I am. Are you okay? Can I come in?” The man looked down at her. Apparently, she hadn’t just wondered if he was there to save her, she’d said it out loud.

“Here let me help you,” He leaned forward so she could lean on him. “Is there a fire?”

“No! I just burned…” Felicity grumbled. “Burned my supper.” She looked down ashamed.

The man helped her to the couch. Her toe had stopped hurting at least. “Here, you stay put. I’m going to go deal with the smoke detector and open a window”

Felicity watched the attractive man walked through her condo. She didn’t even know his name but she felt like she could trust him. The beeping stopped. He walked back in the open area kitchen/living room.

“I opened the small window in the back, that should help a bit and I disabled the smoke detector until the smoke clears.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much for your help. Who are you?”

“Aww, sorry, I’m Oliver Queen, your new neighbour. I heard the smoke detector and was worried.”

“Nice to meet you Oliver Queen, I’m Felicity Smoak.” Felicity began to stand up from the couch.

“Oh no, sit down!” He walked toward her.

“No worries, I just stubbed my toe on the way to the door. I’ll live. Thank you for coming to my rescue. I promise this won’t be a regular thing. I guess I learned my lesson.” Felicity looked over at the burned casserole on the counter.

“Hey, it happens to the best of us.”

“Yes, I hoped that this time I would be a success, I followed the instructions, set a timer.” Felicity didn’t know why but she didn’t want this man to see her as a failure.

Oliver walked into the kitchen and held up the timer. “I think I spy the culprit.” He held up a cute chicken timer. It had not moved from the time set. “Faulty timer.”

“Oh.” Felicity smiled, it wasn’t her fault. She should have used her phone, it was just the timer was so cute she had to buy it and this was her first chance to put it to use.

~~~~~

Oliver put the timer down on the counter, made his way back to Felicity. He didn’t why he was suddenly nervous. He didn’t get nervous but there was something about this woman. The moment he saw her he wanted to protect her.

He noticed she was smaller than him, specifically in height, but he sensed a strength within her. He knew there was far more to her than she appeared. She was beautiful, with curly blonde hair, glasses and what he was sure was the perfect pout. She looked familiar, her name was also a little familiar. Uh oh. Had they met before? “This is going to sound awful. But have we met before?”

Felicity shook her head vehemently. “Trust me I’d remember. Your name does sound familiar to me. Are you related to Thea Queen? The family that owns Queen Consolidated?”

“Yes! She’s my sister. I also work at Queen Consolidated. Just moving back from our London office.” Oliver began connecting the dots together. “You’re Felicity Smoak! The tech genius that’s going to make people walk again. I can’t believe it’s really you!”

“Wow. I can’t believe you know who I am and yes, I am working on the biostimulant to help people walk. So far there is only one working in existence but I hope to create more soon.” Felicity looked down for a moment before looking back at him. “Thea speaks so highly of you. So strange she didn’t tell me you were coming back. My company Smoak Tech works with Queen Consolidated on projects. In fact, I think I have a meeting at Queen Consolidated tomorrow.”

“Well, I hope you do. It would be nice to see you again.” Nice to see you again? As if he wasn’t standing in the room with her right now. Man, had he left his game on the other side of the Pond?

“My meeting is with Thea but you never know.” Felicity smiled.

“Let me fix your smoke detector now,” Oliver headed across the room, fixed the smoke detector before walking back to the door. Well, I’d better head back. I’m glad you are okay. It was nice to meet you, Felicity.”

“Thanks for stopping by, coming to my rescue. It was nice to meet you too, Oliver Queen.”

“Night.” Oliver pushed the door shut behind him. Oh, he would make sure he was in the meeting with Thea and Felicity tomorrow.

Thanks so much for reading! More to come soon!!

I’m tagging people who might be interested. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or untagged: @memcjo @stephswims @julieofrandomfandoms @mel-loves-all @cruzrogue @laurabelle2930 @lucyyh @green-arrows-of-karamel @oliverfel4 @tdgal1 @tangled23works @lageniuswannabe @swordandarrow @it-was-a-red-heeler

#Hope for the Holidays #olicity fanfiction #alternate universe #oliver x felicity #MyFanfic

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theclaravoyant · 5 years ago

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i’ll give it to someone special [david x patrick]

AN ~ a belated prompt fill @just-a-funny-little-brain and @schittposting, ft. shameless fluff, mutual pining, Mariah Carey, and a slightly warped UA timeline for S3 because i do what i want. enjoy!!

"You made me a Christmas playlist but it’s just Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas is you”. I can’t tell if you’re hitting on me or if it’s a joke." and "I was putting up Christmas lights, and I literally fell into your arms" from this OTP Advent prompt list

Read on AO3 (~2300 words). David x Patrick, David & Stevie

i’ll give it to someone special

When decorating, it was no secret that David Rose was an advocate of “if you want something done right, do it yourself.” This went double for the holiday season; with bright, clashing colour schemes in abundance, there was too much potential for a garish, tasteless disaster for him to allow an amateur to take over. He had a business and a reputation to maintain after all – plus, it was either this or the end-of-year budget review, so really, the jobs divided themselves.

At least, they did until the bell rung.

“Patrick!” David called, so that he wouldn’t have to be deterred from his process, not to mention make the inelegant descent from the stepladder in front of a member of the public. “Pat– oh, it’s just you.”

Stevie fixed him with a sardonic glare.

“And a happy Hanukkah to you too.”

David rolled his eyes, and made a point of turning his back to Stevie and continuing to thread out the fairy lights as she made her way further into the store. But he couldn’t quite turn all his attention back to the task at hand – especially not once she passed the counter behind him, and made a curious humming sound.

“What’s this?” she wondered, and David pretended he couldn’t hear the scandalous intrigue in her tone.

“Patrick and I exchanged some small gifts,” he explained matter-of-factly, “to celebrate our first holiday season together – as the store.”

“Uh huh.” Stevie was audibly unconvinced.

“Excuse you, Christmas is a busy time for retail,” David scolded, whipping around and rocking the step-ladder – damn, he’d forgotten it was missing a foot. But he pinched a nearby shelf, righted himself, cleared his throat and did his best to continue as if his blunder had never happened. “It’s important to keep up morale.”

Somehow, Stevie kept a straight face. “Morale.”

“Yes.”

“So, Patrick made you a mix tape… for morale?”

“… Yes.”

“Great! Let’s listen to it then, shall we? For your morale.”

Stevie’s eyes were fixed on David’s as she pulled the CD slowly from its case and slipped it into the side of David’s computer. David knew she was challenging him, but what could he do, object? She already knew he doth protest too much when it came to Patrick, but if he had any chance of coming out of this relationship – by which of course he meant this business relationship - without a broken heart, he couldn’t afford to stoke the fire. And apparently, there was no way he could so much as flinch on this infernal step ladder without shaking the whole damned thing and giving himself away, so though his heart clenched with a dizzyingly cruel hope that the mix tape might open with some kind of confession, he stood stock-still. Waited. Until those precious, familiar xylophone tones began to chime.

“I-I-I-I… don’t want a lot for Christmas…”

His heart almost buckled with relief. Stevie smiled slightly.

“The man’s got taste,” she praised. More sarcasm? David wasn’t sure.

“He’s learning,” he replied, and turned his back to her again to continue with the work she had so rudely interrupted. If he had to press his lips tight to keep from smiling, so be it.

“Patrick!” David called from the front room. “Pat-“

He cut himself off, falling to a mumble that was too muffled by the distance and the walls between them to make out. Whatever he had said was met with a flat, but equally muffled reply from what Patrick had long since learned was Stevie’s voice. Part of him wanted to pop out and say hi, but their Q4 turnover was hard to keep up with… and then, any hopes of getting up the courage to leave the back room fizzled when the first notes of All I Want for Christmas started playing.

Patrick took a deep breath, and tried not to think about David. Tried not to think about his hearteningly curious reception of the CD, or the way he had spent most of the morning checking that every Santa hat in the store was quirkily off-kilter by just the right amount, or how much Patrick longed to watch his shy and uptight business partner let loose and belt out some Mariah already.

No, he wasn’t thinking about that. They might not even be listening to his CD. Maybe they had just pulled up the song on Youtube or Spotify or something; surely, it was a Rose family staple after all.

Patrick, well, Patrick was just inputting the numbers. Into the spreadsheet. Putting that number… into that box… or- wait – was it that number? Was it that box? The data seemed to swim before his eyes as his heart began to race. The first rendition was ending and… yes, there it was, beginning again.

He got out of the chair and began to pace. His mind turned irretrievably to David. To the moment he had first realised he might have begun to like David. To the early mornings in his car letting the freezing air in to try and shock his system into figuring this damn thing out. To the hot flushes he got when he thought about wanting to kiss those pouting lips, or linger in a hug, or pull one of those damned sweaters over David’s head and lift up his shirt and –

And, well, he had to start somewhere, and for some ungodly reason the Spirit of Christmas had inspired him to pick here. With a plan that now that he thought about it, couldn’t have been any more impossibly vague if he’d tried. He could hear David and Stevie talking now under the music. Were they figuring it out? Were they wondering if it was a glitch? A mistake? At first, he’d thought being able to play this thing off as a joke would have been an advantage. Now, the thought that David might not understand – that he might have another… however long, to wait, before he got up the courage to reveal himself again in a more obvious way – if he were being honest, it was kind of killing him.

“Maybe I should just tell him,” he whispered to himself.

It didn’t sound that ridiculous out loud.

“Okay,” Stevie announced, when the song began for the third time. “I love ya, Mariah, but three times is too many.”

“My store, my rules,” David corrected.

“My finger on the play button,” Stevie pointed out, and pulled up a new playlist in the online search bar. The synthesiser intro of Wham’s 1984 pop classic Last Christmas started up and she smiled as David groaned out loud.

Then she peered at the track list of Patrick’s alleged ‘mix’ CD, scrolling all the way down, and noticed – “Hey, I think this whole thing is Mariah Carey.”

“Of course it is. Because she’s amazing, and Patrick is very attentive.”

“No, I mean, every single song on here is All I Want for Christmas. There’s like… fifteen of them. Look.”

She picked up the laptop and carried it over to David, frowning. David glanced over her shoulder toward the back room. Could Patrick hear them? Did he know? Had he done this on purpose?

“Maybe it’s like, a mistake. The CD’s glitching or something,” Stevie suggested. “How up to date is your software?”

“Maybe he’s… making fun of me.” Something felt hollow in his chest at the thought.

“That doesn’t sound very Patrick-y,” Stevie pointed out. “Maybe… he likes you.”

“Oh, pfft.”

“I mean, come on, a mix tape?”

“Um, I don’t think so. We’ve been over this, remember? He’s a baseball-playing, denim-wearing, straight, guy, okay, and I’ve developed enough crushes on straight guys to know how this works.”

“Did… any of those straight guys give you a mix tape full of Mariah Carey singing about how much she wants you?”

He couldn’t even will up a scoff to retort to that, and Stevie raised a confident eyebrow.

“’cause, I mean,” she continued, “most of the uh, ‘baseball playing denim wearing straight’ guys I know don’t like Mariah Carey. Or at least, they wouldn’t be caught dead admitting to another human being that they know who she is.”

“That’s not-“ David blundered, “Music doesn’t- Patrick doesn’t-“

But he couldn’t get out of his head, how deliberate Patrick was. The man thought about everything, and when he wanted something, he went for it. Researched intensively, but went for it. David admired that about his business acumen, as well as for general personality-having purposes – it was one of the reasons they balanced each other out so well – but more than anything, that told him it wasn’t a mistake. Patrick liked music, and he liked genuine connection. He would have sat there all night if that’s what it took to put together a CD, Christmas-themed or otherwise. And if the CD was glitching, the track list wouldn’t show every song the same. And if it was a joke, Patrick probably would have got David to play it in front of him, maybe tried to make him sing along.

And if none of this meant anything, Patrick wouldn’t be standing in the doorway on his way from the storeroom, trying to look determined and yet shaking like a leaf.

“Da- David,” he managed at last. “Can I talk to you?”

“That’s my cue,” Stevie murmured, and pulled back to escape the conversation. In her haste, she caught herself in the string of lights that was currently knotted between David’s fingers, and pulled. He yelped and pivoted to try and keep up and she panicked as the step ladder began to fall under the rapid change of weight. All of a sudden it was too late to untangle and there was no way of helping David without sacrificing the laptop, not that she could think of fast enough anyway, so Stevie cowered out of the way and clenched her eyes shut and hoped it wouldn’t end in disaster.

It didn’t. At least, the crashing sound wasn’t quite as horrendous as she’d thought and wasn’t followed by the string of cursing she expected from the upturned David Rose. She cracked an eye open (maybe he was fine, but maybe he’d cracked his head on a display table, was she ready for that?) and found –

And found Patrick had rushed forward at the last minute, and David had all but face-planted straight into his arms. David’s feet were still not quite under him, and he gazed up at Patrick with big, wide eyes in bewildered, vulnerable admiration. Patrick, for his part, was looking down at David in a stunned sort of silence, with a blush so furious it was colouring his ears, and yet there was tenderness in his expression and his hand on David’s back was so gentle and soft, Stevie could hardly look. Did they even know she was still here?

“Uh… thuh… thanks,” David managed at last, once his tongue started working again. His heart hammered against Patrick’s chest, and Patrick’s was hammering back.

“No problem,” Patrick said, and there was more, so much more on the tip of his tongue. His lips struggled to form the words. I like you, I want to kiss you. I want you right now. It sounded so childish, so far short of capturing the overwhelming feelings that seized him. And maybe he would have gone another however long without saying anything at all, if it weren’t for the fact that David chose now of all moments to ask –

“Was there, um, something you wanted to tell me?”

He looked… hopeful? Patrick hardly dared hope back. But David was smiling. He knew.

And when Patrick took a chance and seized his jittering confidence with both hands and closed the distance between them, David kissed back with a yearning that had been screaming to break out of his chest since the moment they’d met. Patrick could hardly believe the energy of it. It felt… like fireworks. Like a moment suspended in time. Like everything he’d ever been told this moment was supposed to feel like.

Then David’s lips were suddenly falling away from his. He’d tried to move his arms, forgetting that his feet weren’t yet on solid ground, and now the string of curses fell from his lips as he tumbled to the ground, hit his elbow with a crack on the nearby table, and rolled onto his back.

“Mother…” he groaned.

And yet still, he was smiling.

Because Patrick had caught him. Patrick had kissed him.

Patrick.

David opened his eyes, and looked up at the poor man, who had blanched white as a sheet as his somehow-perfect moment had come crashing down around him.

“Um, so, I- I like you,” Patrick explained. “That’s what I wanted to say.”

“Yeah, no, I got that,” David agreed, reflecting on the breathlessness in his chest. He could do that again. A few dozen more times.

“Can I help you up?”

“Yeah. Yes. Let’s do that.”

David tried not to stare at Patrick’s shoulder as Patrick offered a hand, and lifted him to his feet. He didn’t try very hard, to be fair.

“Can I buy you dinner?” Patrick asked.

“I would like that.”

“Huh.” Patrick smiled. He was on a roll. The whole thing felt rather dizzying, but it was all so much easier than he’d expected. Although, he wasn’t exactly sure what to do next. Kiss David again? They were at work, and he hadn’t exactly recovered from the first time. But he couldn’t go back to the spreadsheets now. Sure, they were important, but they weren’t like this. He had way too much energy all of a sudden, and a craving to run up a mountain.

But a quiet clearing of a throat interrupted his grander plans. Both Patrick and David turned to the sound, to find Stevie standing gingerly amidst a tangle of fairy lights, which seemed to tie her every movement either to the stepladder, or to the two large bookshelves on either side of her.

“Uh, congratulations and all,” she said as meekly as possible, “but before you guys split, could you help me out?”

#david rose x patrick brewer #david x patrick #david & stevie #schitt's creek #schitt's creek fic #clara's fic tag #christmas #hanukkah

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the-real-anywolf · 5 years ago

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Destiel Advent Calendar 2019

Title: Welcome to the Black Parade

Tags: Dean Winchester/Castiel, Destiel, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Rufus Turner, Bobby Singer, Angst, Forgiveness is the Name of the Game, Explicit Sexual Content, Inspired by Song Lyrics, Happy Hanukkah

Summary: Dean Winchester has walked hand-in-hand with death his entire life. When it's time to lay his weary head to rest, will he finally find peace?

Written by: @eyesofatragedy67 (Eyes_of_a_Tragedy)

Notes: Somewhere in the process of this advent calendar, Frankie said, "Can day 22 be Hanukkah related?" and we all went, "Yeah! That's a great idea!" And then day 22 sat with a note… Hannukah… for what felt like forever. There was a group chat conversation about the fact that none of us are Jewish and really don't know much about the holiday. But I snagged it anyway.

This fic is not a Hanukkah story, and honestly is the merest of nods, but I do think it's important to acknowledge it. For those of you who do follow the beliefs, I wish you the happiest of Hanukkahs! Please don't kill me.

This story is inspired by the lyrics of "Welcome to the Black Parade" by My Chemical Romance. It's a song about death and how it affects those left behind. But it's also full of power and life. It holds strong personal meaning for me, and screams Dean Winchester in my head.

I hope you enjoy!

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21890575

Day 22: Welcome to the Black Parade

The sky was a bruise of grey and green, and that sickly yellow you only saw on damaged skin. Dean Winchester was parked at Rufus's cabin, crashed out on the hood of his trusty sidekick, legs dangling in front of her grill, waiting for the floodgates to open.

He needed the rain on his face, the water pelting his skin, cleansing him, absolving him of the guilt he carried. He needed the mask of it. To hide his tears.

It had been years since he'd felt this loss, years since he'd grieved the son of a bitch who'd moulded him into the soldier he still was, to this day. But the years had been long, and so much had happened. And if Dean was being completely honest with himself – hell, with anyone – he'd admit that the man who had appeared in the bunker wasn't as much of a monster as he'd made him out to be in his mind.

Fuck knew John Winchester hadn't been a perfect father. And Dean was well aware of the fact that he carried some serious baggage, due to the years of abandonment and neglect, while his dad had kicked around – saving people, hunting things.

The family business created a rift between the Winchesters that leaked like a sieve.

But Dean and Sam had come through okay. They were strong together, had done good in the world. Until Chuck came and fucked it all to hell.

Talk about some A+ parenting.

As the skies rained down on him, Dean let go. He let himself mourn the loss, again, of the man who had shaped his life. Thought back to the times that weren't awful, though some would argue they were few and far between.

He railed against the wind, lungs burning molten rage; then his throat locked up, nothing but stilted exhales escaping.

Eyes still closed, he felt a soothing presence close in. Hands gripped the outsides of his knees, hips moving between them. Dean threw his arm over his face and gulped in a ragged breath.

"Hello, Dean." That rumble of comfort was everything he needed.

Dean pushed himself up and wrapped himself around his angel, burying his face into Cas's neck, where he smelled like honey-sweet lightning.

"You're going to get sick if you stay out here much longer, my love," Cas whispered into the freckles dotting Dean's cheekbone.

Fuck, what had he done to deserve this man? He had no idea why Cas always came back to him, but he was done fighting it. Done getting in the way of what they both wanted. He'd be damned if Cas's name got added to the list of Dean Winchester's Greatest Misses.

He looked into the storm of Cas's eyes. "I love you. I love you with all of the words I've never said, for all of the years you've stood by me, all of the shit you've put up with…" Blue lit up his sky. "Cas, I'm ready."

The honey melted away, leaving ozone and fire in its wake. Cas tugged his hips closer, hauling him off Baby's hood. Dean wrapped his legs tighter around Cas's waist, relinquishing some of the weight, as Cas carried him into the cabin.

They made it as far as the fireplace before Dean tugged Cas down into a desperate kiss, nipping at his lips. Sunshine burst on his tongue, all warmth and fresh green growth after the rain.

Hands tore at his clothing, drenched t-shirt plopping to the ground, soaked denim falling to his feet. And then his angel was kneeling before him, unlacing his sturdy leather boots and peeling off his socks so he could step out of his jeans.

Cas was his savior, divinity defined.

Dean carded his fingers through that thick, dark hair and stroked his thumb over the shell of Cas's ear, looking down at the best thing that had ever happened to him.

"Cas…" he whispered, shivers racing down his spine.

And Cas – the beautiful, crazy genius – ran his hands up Dean's exposed skin, over the cotton that was his last barrier, and stripped him bare.

Blade-calloused fingertips caressed his hips, teased over his soft midriff, perfectly chapped lips following their path. A flick of tongue over the tip of his cock almost brought Dean to his knees.

And then it was all wet heat surrounding him, the gentle brush of stubble against sensitive skin, and Dean fumbled to hold on.

One hand tangled in his lover's hair, he reached the other out, grasping for purchase and something to ground him. The heavy thunk of an object hitting the floor only briefly distracted him.

"Oh, Cas," Dean moaned, living in the feel of his angel's mouth on him, full of worship.

Teeth lightly grazed their way up his shaft, and Cas pulled off, leaning back with glazed-over eyes. Dean wiped at the moisture at the corner of his mouth, then brushed his thumb over the angel's lower lip.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Sunshine." And the light that shone behind those stormcloud eyes was more radiant than the stars.

"Dean." Cas looked up at him with wonder, then surged up to plunder his mouth. They kissed with all of the passion they'd repressed for so long.

And Dean groaned as Cas gripped him tight and jacked him like they didn't have until the end of time to finally love each other true.

***

"For cryin' out loud, Bobby. It's not that I'm not happy for the two of them. I mean, it's about damn time that fool of a son of yours got his head out of his… but that's my fireplace they're defiling! And my menorah on the floor! You'd think they could show a little respect."

Bobby pointedly did not glance in the direction of Rufus's living room, did not need to see his boys finally taking that bull-headed last step.

"Let them be, ya’ idjit. They've given everything for this moment. And, yeah, I don't want to see Dean's naked ass, or what the angel's packin' either. But this is their place now, and we're the intruders."

Rufus reached for his bottle of Johnny. "Do you think he knows?"

Pushing an empty glass over to his friend, Bobby nodded. "He knows. He's finally letting himself have the life, the love he's always turned away from. Maybe it's not orthodox, but this is his heaven. And he's finally free."

He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, fighting back the grief for the sacrifice his boys made. If they could carry on, grab their peace by the throat and run with it… well, they'd goddamn earned every minute.

Bobby picked up the glass, now two fingers full of amber liquid, and raised it in a toast. "Happy Hanukkah, you damn drama queen."

Rufus clinked his glass to Bobby's and replied, "Merry Christmas, you old coot."

Their grins turned to grimaces as loud thumping started from the other room.

Your memory will carry on...

End Notes: I wanted to play with the idea of fathers. Some of you might not be thrilled with my portrayal of John here, but this is coming from a place of serious contemplation for Dean. And I liked the idea of him shedding the darkness and hurt he's carried for so long, that in his personal heaven, he's free of that burden and can finally fly unafraid.

I love the idea that he's open to love, in all of its myriad forms. Because without John Winchester, who knows if Dean would have had Bobby Singer as his surrogate father, Rufus as his crazy uncle, Cas as his guardian angel?

I wish you all a wonderful holiday season, and truly hope 2020 brings you amazing things!

#destiel advent calendar 2019 #fanfiction #destiel #christmas short fics

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avengerscompound · 6 years ago

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Her Holiday

Her Holiday: A Scarlet Witch Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1352

Warnings: angsty and fluffy

Synopsis: Wanda hasn’t really celebrated Hannuka since the death of her parents. With your love of Christmas, she begins to wonder if she’ll ever really get a chance to properly celebrate it again.

A/N: For @until-theend-oftheline ‘s #Kari’s December Special Quickie using the above aesthetic as the prompt. Also, it’s femslash Saturday and so here you go.

Her Holiday

It wasn’t her holiday. She had never done the gifts under the tree and strings of lights. She’d never tasted eggnog or glazed ham. Her holiday was different and she missed it. She missed making Latkes with her mother. The way she always let her eat the earlier slightly imperfect ones before the rest were taken out to eat with her father and Pietro.

She missed lighting the candles in the menorah each night. Excited there was by the extra one to light as the holiday progressed. She loved to sit and watch them burn all the way down and secretly timed them to make sure they lasted as long as they should.

She missed getting competitive with Pietro when they played with a Dreidel. How it was very important that she come away with more felt than him. She even missed the times after Pietro had decided he was too old for it when she'd go and teach the game to kids from the other caravans and they'd excitedly join in hoping to win sweets to take home.

She missed the little presents she'd get from her parents every day. Even though they were normally homemade and far from extravagant, her parents put thought and love into each one and she always got excited when she got to open them.

She missed her holiday. Since leaving HYDRA she had celebrated it alone. Lighting a candle and saying the blessings by herself. She didn't bother with the food. She was the only one that celebrated and the one time she made it so she could share with the others, they played along but it was missing that magic. It was missing people who loved her deeply and unconditionally and weren’t just that little bit scared of her.

It was missing family.

It wouldn't be too bad alone. Never great. Hanukkah was a communal holiday and the few times she'd attempted joining a temple everyone had looked at her like she was a monster about to tear the place apart. She hadn't gone back again. So celebrating alone could just be a melancholy affair instead of the celebration it should have been.

Only there was Christmas.

She never used to resent Christmas the way she had begun to since coming to America. The people she had known when she was younger celebrated it differently. It had the trees and the ornaments and the lights that looked like fairies in the night sky that set in as early as three in the afternoon depending on where they were. It was just back then there was more church involved and dinner happened on Christmas Eve and was usually goose so if she was invited to join in there was a small chance it was kosher.

Now it was like it was shoved down her throat. Cheesy Christmas songs played everywhere. Including the lobby of the Tower. Santa’s stood on every corner. She had never really even seen a Santa growing up. It was Saint Nicholas that brought gifts. Now they were everywhere and they kind of creeped her out. Then there were the gaudy decorations everywhere. They were obnoxious. She couldn’t even escape it at home. Tony was super into Christmas and while he was very generous and got all the Avengers gifts, it always just served as a reminder of how much she lost and how alone she was.

How alone she was. Past tense. This year had brought a lot of change. Healing and peace to the team. People finding new roles and directions for their life.

The thing it had brought Wanda was you.

Finding you had been like finding the missing piece of her soul. You had just fit. Like a matching pair of socks. She had fallen for you quickly and she went from feeling alone in a world that didn’t want her, to feeling like there was a home for her.

She loved you and you loved Christmas. When you took her shopping for Christmas decorations in early November she was a little perplexed. She went along with it though. What did she know about when you were supposed to do all those things?

The following month was a mixture of emotions for Wanda. She loved being out with you. She loved those days when it would snow and not settle and the two of you would stop at coffee shops and get peppermint hot cocoa. She loved seeing how much care you took choosing out the perfect gifts for your loved ones. She loved the time you asked her to hang lights and the two of you had got tangled in them and fell to the floor and ended up kissing until your lips went numb. She loved sitting curled up with you by the light of the Christmas tree in your matching pajamas. It was nice to feel like she belonged to something like that.

It also reminded her that even now she thought she finally had someone - her someone - she still had no one the share her holiday.

The first day of Hanukkah arrived and she had resolved that once again it was just going to be her celebrating alone. You had your holiday. You were unlikely to want to share hers.

Which was why she was so shocked when she stepped into your apartment and it had this underlying scent that was so familiar. It reminded her of being a kid and her parents and Pietro.

She found you in the kitchen frying Latkes, a look of pure concentration on your face. “What’s going on?” She asked.

“I’m making latkes. I’ve never done it before. You wanna try one and make sure it’s okay?” You asked not really looking up.

Wanda moved to the other side of the kitchen bench and picked one up off the paper towel you were using to soak up the excess oil. She took a tentative bite and smiled. It was perfect. Seasoned just right and crispy on the outside. She dipped the rest in sour cream and finished it.

“It’s perfect. But why are you making it?” She asked.

“It’s Hanukkah.” You replied matter of factly. Still not quite getting to the root of her question. You suddenly looked up like you’d been slapped. “Oh happy Hanukkah, my love.” You added and pecked her lips. “I got you a present.”

Wanda watched amused as you abandoned your pan of frying potato pancakes and went looking for the present. She took over from you cooking and when you returned you handed her a small present wrapped in blue and white.

“Thank you, my love.” She said, kissing your cheek and taking the small parcel. “I don’t know why you’re doing this though. You celebrate Christmas.”

“Yes, and you’re Jewish. So…” You said confused. “Don’t you celebrate Hanukkah?”

“Yes. I just didn’t expect…”

“I love you. I want to be part of your things too.” You said.

Wanda felt tears prick her eyes. She had been so sure that you weren’t even going to think about it. That even when she wasn’t alone she was going to alone in her traditions and beliefs. Yet here you were making room in your life to share hers.

“Oh no. Did I do something wrong?” You asked. “Is this like… really offensive?”

“No,” Wanda replied wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face in your neck. “No, I just. Love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby.” You said and kissed her on the top of the head. “I got a Menorah and candles. I was going to make sufganiyot too, but it looked hard. So I bought some.”

Wanda giggled and gave you a squeeze. “You are too good to me.” She said. “I’ll show you how to make them tomorrow if you like.”

“Sounds good. Now open your present.” You said.

Wanda began trying to work off the incredibly tight ribbon from the package, the smile on her face glued there. This felt good. Maybe together you could blend your holidays and in the end, have something that was a tradition for the family she made with you.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #Kari’s December Special Quickie #scarlet witch #scarlet witch fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #fluff #femslash saturday #her holiday

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beepbeep-losers · 6 years ago

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mistletoe

happy holidays all!!!!!! merry christmas eve to those that celebrate!! (and merry christmas to some already lmao). here is a piece of Christmassy, modern au, 15yo reddie fluff for @uhhcanigetabyeler for @it-secretsanta-2018 !!! I hope you enjoy it and that you have a wonderful holiday season! much love ❤❤❤

(warning: I'm on mobile and so I can't put a cut so....long post forgive me)

A fifteen year old Richie Tozier annoyed many people throughout the year, but at the Toziers' holiday party he was doing a really spectacular job of it.

He had brought a few bundles of mistletoe, shoved into his pockets, and was doing his absolute best to try to goad as many people into kissing as possible. He'd already dangled it between Bill and Stan and Bill had turned red and almost punched him. Stan, wearing his Hanukkah sweater and really only there because of the food, had looked bored out of his mind with Richie's antics.

When Richie had shoved it between his parents, he'd made a show of shouting "EWWWWWWW" when Wentworth gave a small peck to Maggie's lips. He confiscated that bundle of misteltoe afterward.

The threat of impending mistletoe had been enough to make Eddie wary any time Richie was near all night. Eddie's crush on Richie was forced to the forefront of his mind with all the stupid kissing, and it was really stressing him out. Plus, what was he even supposed to do if Richie tried to get him to kiss someone else? Eddie didn't like the thought.

The losers club had been at the Toziers', like every twenty-second day of every December since they were eleven, since five that evening. They'd played several rounds of Uno, the final round ending when Stan and Eddie had bickered for ten minutes because Eddie was sure thay Stan had cheated. Their bickering had only ceased when Richie dangled the mistletoe between them and they'd both shoved him so hard they'd been afraid he would fall into the Toziers' Christmas tree and then they'd all be kicked out.

They were up late. They always were at their parties. They'd played their Uno, and their Dirty Santa, and they'd all stuffed themselves with all of Maggie and Went's cooking, and were slumped all over the den's furniture watching How the Grinch Stoel Christmas, which Stan was having a really great time making jokes about. It was putting them all in stitches, anyway, because if anyone could come up with witty and snide jokes it was Stan - especially at the expense of a Christmas movie that he'd watched with them several times.

Eddie wound up leaning against Richie, but that wasn't exactly the most comfortable place to be. Richie kept laughing at Stan's jokes, and he laughed with his entire body and kept jostling him. He kept poking Richie in the ribs to try to get him to quit moving, and maybe to hide that he was really smitten every time he looked up to see tears of laughter in Richie's eyes, and his glasses crooked on his nose, and his grin so big that his cheeks must hurt.

Leaning on Richie got even more distracting after that, and Eddie got restless and stood up.

"Where ya goin', Edsie?" Richie asked immediately, reaching out and grabbing onto his shirt. Eddie batted his hand away, blushing.

"I'm getting a drink," he told him, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "And don't call me that, jackass."

"I'll come with!" Richie said, ignoring any qualms Eddie had with his nicknames, and he popped up and threw his arm around Eddie's shoulders.

Eddie slipped out from under Richie's arm, but didn't complain when Richie followed him into the Toziers' kitchen to find drinks. Richie opened up the fridge and tossed Eddie a pop, then grabbed one for himself. They were both facing the fridge, and didn't notice anyone else in the kitchen, but when they turned around they were met with a loud,

"GOTCHA!"

Beverly was there, beaming a toothy grin at them, and the rest of the losers club peeking into the room from the entry. Dangling from Beverly's fingers right between Eddie and Richie was a sprig of mistletoe.

Eddie could have kicked her right in the shin, but he was frozen. His mouth had dropped open, and he whipped to look at Richie, whose eyes looked even more huge than normal, and whose cheeks and ears and neck were bright red.

"Go on, big shot," Bev said teasingly to Richie, still grinning at them. When Eddie caught her eye she winked at him - winked! Damn her! "Put your money where your mouth is!"

"More like his mouth where his mouth is," Stan piped up, and then snickered at himself.

Eddie turned back to Richie, right as he swooped down. His glasses and nose hit Eddie in the face awkwardly, and Bill told Eddie later that he made a noise a lot like a mouse squeaking right before Richie's lips pressed against his.

It was quick, only a few seconds, but Eddie thought he might turn into a living puddle in the time it took. When Richie pulled away, Eddie had a blush to match Richie's and all the rest of the club were oohing and aahing at them.

"You've had yer fun, now get yerselves outta here!" Richie said loudly at them, in a flustered attempt at an accent.

They filed out after a minute, and Eddie set down his pop on the counter next to them; he'd just realized that his hand was cold. He wiped it on his pants.

"Guess I got what was comin' to me, huh, Eds?" Richie said, and when Eddie looked at him, he actually looked nervous. His smile was lopsided but he looked a little tense.

Eddie nodded at him thoughtfully. "I guess you did. But it was kind of a shit kiss," he added with a surge of confidence. Then he blushed, and grabbed his pop, and rushed back toward the den.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean!" Richie called after him.

Eddie plopped down on the couch, asked himself why the holy hell he had said that, and tried to focus on the movie and not on the fact that Richie was still away. He had popped open his pop and drank a third of it by the time Richie came back.

Richie sat down next to Eddie quietly for several minutes, and there were a few inches between them that made Eddie unreasonably antsy.

Then, after ten minutes, Richie leaned over and planted a kiss on Eddie's cheek. Eddie's eyes widened, and he felt his cheeks redden, and he froze up for only a moment before leaning back into Richie.

Maybe the mistletoe wasn't all that bad overall.

#itsecretsanta18 #ashton writes #reddie #i hope you enjoy! ahh #mistletoe didnt look like a real word to me for like two hours after writing this lmao #it fanfic #it fanfiction #the losers club #stan is just here to roast people

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seriestrash · 6 years ago

Text

12 days of Tyrus

|| 1 ||

Summary: The cold season is upon them and Cyrus finds himself wishing for a lot this festive season, many of those wishes happen to involve TJ.

Read on ao3

Chapter Two: The Worst Christmas Ever

Word Count: 2656

It’s Monday at school and Cyrus sits with his three best friends in the cafeteria during lunch.

“Do you have anything special planned for your last night of Hanukkah?” Andi questions.

“I think I’m just going to stay in and watch movies with my dad, maybe finally succumb to the food coma.” Cyrus exhales as he picks up an apple from his lunch tray and looks at it longingly, “I sure do love Hanukkah but all that greasy food for over a week-” Cyrus presses the apple to his cheek causing his friends to laugh softly at his theatrics, “-let’s just say I’m thankful for my fast metabolism or otherwise you’d have to roll me to class.”

“Did I hear that TJ came over for Hanukkah?” Jonah asks.

“Last night.” Cyrus nods and he catches sight of Andi and Buffy exchanging a glance between themselves.

“If my parents don’t have a problem with me being friends with TJ neither should you.” Cyrus’ mood deflates.

“We just care about you.” Buffy says with a small smile.

“Thanks, but you don’t have anything to worry about.” Cyrus matches her soft grin. Cyrus then ‘casually’ looks at his lunch tray and adds, “You two should try and get over your TJ grudge because I invited him skiing.”

“You did?” Both Andi and Buffy exclaim in unison.

“Yes.” Cyrus says firmly. “And that’s all we’re going to say about that.”

“Fine.” Buffy mumbles although something suggests she had a far bigger opinion on the matter.

“Jonah, have your parents made up their mind yet?” Cyrus quickly shifts the focus.

“Not yet.” Jonah shakes his head, “But if my report card comes back with good grades they’ll definitely let me.”

“Awesome.” Cyrus nods happily.

“I almost forgot!” Andi excitedly speaks up and this calls for everyones attention.

“What?” Buffy asks with a her intrigue spiked.

Andi edges closer with her elbows resting on the table. “My parents agreed to let me have a Christmas party the night school ends for winter break.” The three others all express their shared excitement.

“Can I bring Libby?” Jonah asks after the initial buzz dies down.

Andi shifts nervously in her seat, Buffy and Cyrus share a knowing look as Andi had filled them in on Libby wanting to break up with Jonah. “Sure.” Andi nods. “And Buffy you can bring Walker…” She says just as unconvincing.

“Can we invite-“ Cyrus begins but Buffy cuts him off.

“TJ.” Buffy says.

“Yeah?” Cyrus crinkles his brows wondering how he was so predictable.

“Mind if I sit with you guys?” TJ appears beside their table with a lunch tray in hand and it clicks for Cyrus that Buffy was noticing him and not predicting Cyrus wanting to invite him.

“Depends, is our fruit in danger?” Buffy quips and Cyrus sends a scolding look her way.

“Buffy.” Cyrus continues with a frown, “I already told you it wasn’t TJ that brought the gun and we should move past this.”

“It’s okay, Cyrus,” TJ lets out a sigh and shrugs his shoulder lightly, “I’m used to people blaming me for stuff I had no idea about.”

Jonah shifts uncomfortably in his seat and sports an apologetic look.

“You don’t have to ask to sit with us.” Cyrus shakes his head as he responds to TJ’s initial request to join them. “You can just sit.”

TJ gives Cyrus an appreciative smile as the younger boy frees up some space. “So what’s everyone talking about?” TJ asks as he plants himself comfortably beside Cyrus.

“I was just telling everyone about the Christmas party my parents are letting me have.” Andi explains, “You’re welcome to come, TJ.” Cyrus knew she invited TJ for his benefit and Cyrus was genuinely appreciative of her effort.

“Thanks but I’m busy.” TJ pokes at his fruit cup with his spoon.

“I didn’t even tell you when it was?” Andi raises a brow.

Clearly caught in a lie, TJ looks up from his tray with a grimace, “I’m sorry. I just don’t really like Christmas.”

“You don’t like Christmas? Everybody likes Christmas!” Andi exclaims.

“Well, not everybody.” Cyrus tosses his head from side to side.

“You don’t count.” Andi says with a scrunched expression.

“That’s just hurtful.” Cyrus mumbles with folded arms.

“How can you not like Christmas?” Buffy asks just as dumbfounded as Andi.

“I don’t know,” TJ shrugs, “It’s an over commercialised holiday.”

“Christmas is about spending time with your family. Buffy states matter of factly and TJ continues to be dismissive and avoid any solid eye contact. “Even my mom has never missed a Christmas with me and my dad.” Buffy adds.

“The commercial side of it is kind of fun too.” Jonah admits with a dimple exposing smirk.

“So much fun.” Andi seconds that with a nod. “I even decorated my phone case,” she shows off her handiwork.

TJ just shrugs his shoulders again in response and Cyrus sends his friends a silent look telling them to lay off.

“If you change your mind, you’re still welcome to come.” Andi says.

“Thanks.” TJ mumbles.

After final bell for the day, Cyrus quickly gathers his things and makes his way towards TJ’s locker in hope that he’ll catch the basketball captain before he leaves for the day. Cyrus is in luck and reaches TJ just as he’s leaving to exit.

“Wanna walk home together?” Cyrus asks now by TJ’s side.

“Sure.” TJ favours the idea with a smile.

The two exit Jefferson Middle School together and both let out quiet gasps when they’re hit with a gust of cold wind.

“It’s already freezing and it hasn’t even started snowing yet.” TJ’s teeth almost chatter and he buries his hands in the pockets of his windbreaker.

“You know they say the longer it takes for first snowfall the worse the snow will be?” Cyrus also hides his hands in his coat pockets.

“I’ve never heard that before.” TJ says with a laugh.

Cyrus laughs too, “Good thing the ski lodge is in the mountain so it’s already snowing there. Did you talk to your parents about it last night?”

“Not yet.” TJ shakes his head with his gaze pointed at the ground as he walks, “It was late last night... I’ll ask tonight though.”

“Cool.” Cyrus nods and he tries to build the courage to bring up what he really wanted to talk about. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” TJ agrees unsuspectingly.

“Why is it you don’t like Christmas?” Cyrus finally questions.

“Like I said at lunch-“

“I heard what you said at lunch and at dinner with my family,” Cyrus looks to TJ as they walk before having to look forward again, “But I want to know the real reason.”

TJ rolls his eyes, “You know you can be so ann-“

“Annoying, judgey, yeah I know.” Cyrus says, “You also said I was the only person you could talk to like this.”

“You open up to someone once or twice and then they get all pushy about it.” TJ says with a huff. “I just don’t like Christmas okay? Most of my memories surrounding Christmas are bad and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Maybe it would make you feel better?” Cyrus insists, “Maybe I could help?”

“What do you want me to do, cry about my family issues?” TJ snips.

“I didn’t know you had problems at home.” Cyrus frowns. “I never go to your house.”

“Yeah and there’s a reason for that.” TJ continues to be brash, “Poor TJ has family issues.” He snaps, “You’d make something out of nothing.”

“This doesn’t feel like nothing.” Cyrus stops walking and he forces TJ to as well.

“It must be exhausting trying to fix everyone all the time.” TJ shakes his head with a sigh.

“TJ that’s not what I’m-” Cyrus drops his sentence with a frown.

“I don’t want to walk home together anymore.” TJ states with a frustrated breath.

“TJ, I’m sorry.” Cyrus says almost desperately.

“Forget it.” TJ shakes his head before leaving Cyrus there alone.

Although Cyrus wanted to, he knew there was no use chasing after TJ, instead he remains in place and watches as TJ disappears down the street.

The following day after school Cyrus is at the busy mall in town donating his time to wrap presents, the proceeds from the stall go towards Christmas gifts for children from families in need. Ever since Cyrus was old enough to understand the concept of paying it forward, he had made an effort to give back. It was something Cyrus tries to do all the time but come the holiday season, he makes a conscious effort to do at least one good thing that gives back to the community. This is a ritual of sorts that he shares with his father.

Cyrus had been at the stall for an hour now and whilst he wrapped he also vented to the lady in charge about how TJ had been avoiding him all day. “I just wish he’d speak to me,” Cyrus exhales heavily and then as if he had wished it into existence, Cyrus spots TJ coming out of a small store not too far from the booth he is at. Cyrus asks the lady for permission to take a five minute break and after listening to him go on for an hour she welcomed the idea of a quiet five minutes.

Cyrus quickly make his way over to the store and TJ looks surprised and a little uncomfortable when he notices Cyrus. “What are you doing here?” TJ asks.

“I’m not stalking you even though it may look like I am,” Cyrus laughs nervously, “I’m over at the gift wrapping stall.”

“Right.” TJ still comes across as distant.

“You avoided me at school today and haven’t been answering any of my texts since we had a, fight?” Cyrus poses it like a question because he wasn’t really sure what that exchange of words yesterday afternoon was.

“Being ignored kind of sucks, doesn’t it?” TJ scoffs.

A frown falls on Cyrus’ face as he knew TJ was referring to the all too troubling gun incident. “I wanted to talk to you.” Cyrus is firm. “I went to text you a dozen times but Andi and Buffy wouldn’t let me.”

“I was worried you were just as happy to avoid me.” TJ goes a little mumbly.

“You noticed the part where they physically stopped me from going over to you, right?” Cyrus lets out a single laugh.

TJ breaks his annoyed look with a hint of a smile although he squashes it quickly.

“Newsflash, TJ, I like you-“ Cyrus frets at his choice of words, “You’re my friend… And I just wanted to know if something was wrong. I can be pushy and I was yesterday so I am sorry for prying.”

“Is that is?” TJ asks and Cyrus’ pained expression deepens, he didn’t know what else to be sorry for.

“Maybe I do have a habit of trying to fix things and I can definitely be pushy so I genuinely apologise for that. I hope you know I’d never want to force you to talk about something you didn’t want to but I can’t apologise for wanting to help. I don’t see people - you - as broken or needing improvement, I just don’t like seeing people I care about upset. So I can’t say sorry for that because I don’t think that’s a bad quality to have.”

TJ’s annoyed look is now completely foiled by a soft smile even despite his best efforts to squash it again. “I don’t think it’s a bad quality either.”

A smiley moment passes by before Cyrus breaks sheepishly, “So, what brings you to the mall on a Tuesday afternoon?”

“It’s the twins birthday tomorrow. I had to pick something up for them for my mom.”

“Wow, their birthday is so close to the holidays, that must be an expensive time of year for your family.” Cyrus says and immediately his face falls with a worried expression, “That wasn’t me prying I swear.”

“It’s okay.” TJ says. “It is an expensive time of year.”

“You don’t have to..” Cyrus shakes his head as he didn’t mean to seem like he wanted an explanation from TJ.

“I’m not going to.” TJ says, “It was the worst Christmas ever and I don’t really feel like reliving that right now.”

“I respect that.” Cyrus nods. “I’m really sorry for whatever it is and I am here to talk if and whenever you want.”

“Thanks.” TJ nods slightly with a weak smile.

“Even though I’m respecting your boundaries can I still say something to try and ‘fix’ it?” Cyrus uses air quotes and this makes TJ smile.

“You can try.” TJ shrugs.

“If you’ve already had the worst Christmas ever, that means every Christmas is potentially the best one yet.” Cyrus smiles, “It would be a shame to miss out on that because you don’t give the holidays a chance.”

TJ coaxes his head with furrowed brows and looks like he’s absorbing what Cyrus said.

“Too fortune cookie sounding?” Cyrus questions.

“A little.” TJ straightens his head with a nod and shares a soft chuckle.

“I can do better.” Cyrus assures, “Let me try again.”

“You don’t even celebrate Christmas,” TJ highlights, “Why does it matter to you if I want to hate it?”

Cyrus is quiet for a moment, he’s deep in thought about a past memory and was a little unsure if he should share it or not. Ultimately Cyrus decides to open up and continues, “When I was about six years old I went to the beach with my mom and I was playing in the shallow bit of the water but a wave coming in made me loose my balance and I nearly downed.” Cyrus explains, “It was awful, the most horrible moment in my life and I hated the beach after that, I thought it was the worst place in the entire world.”

“That’s terrible.” TJ says genuinely, “..But I’m not sure what that has to do with me and Christmas?” His tone is careful not to suggest Cyrus’ worst memory ever was anything less than that.

“My parents took me back to the beach one day even though I begged them not to,” Cyrus continues. “But what my parents did was show me that it wasn’t the beach I hated, it was that one awful memory of it.”

“You think sipping eggnog by the fire is going to make me feel better about my dad leaving?” TJ asks and he wasn’t snippy or huffy like he was the previous afternoon, he looked more defeated.

Cyrus tries not to react too much to the information TJ shared, nor does he try to push for more. If TJ wanted to open up about it he would. Instead Cyrus wears a soft and small smile, “No but maybe it will make you happier for the ones who stayed.”

After a quiet moment passes between the two TJ lets out a heavy sigh, “Dammit.” He says softly under his breath.

“What?” Cyrus questions.

“That made me feel better.” TJ mumbles and Cyrus smiles proudly.

“Sorry for being a jerk.” TJ says sheepishly.

“I wasn’t completely undeserving.” Cyrus shrugs, “...I should probably get back to the gift stall.. Want to wrap presents with me?”

“Is it a paid job?” TJ questions.

“It’s for charity.” Cyrus explains.

“Oh.” TJ says, “Sure, I’ll help but I’m lousy at gift wrapping.”

TJ’s statement about his wrapping skills proved to be true as Cyrus looks at TJ’s poor handiwork.

“Maybe you should stick to rapping apologies instead of presents.” Cyrus grimaces and TJ nudges him playfully with his elbow.

Then TJ moves on to bow duty instead and even though TJ wasn’t exactly able to open up to Cyrus about his home life, somehow the two still felt closer than before.

End Notes: I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far! Sorry this chapter is a little shorter! I’m hoping the next one is a tad longer.

Also, I forgot to add in the end notes after chapter one that I’d be reminding everyone what prompts from the 12 days I’ve included incase you missed it (some will be more subtle than others) chapter one was of course day ones prompt: Hanukkah.

In this Chapter: ✓ Christmas with the Kippen’s (day 2’s prompt)  ✓ The worst Hanukkah/Christmas ever (day 11’s prompt)

Although these were only lightly touched on and are further explored in chapter 3.

As always any likes/ reblogs and comments are welcomed and very much appreciated!!

Tag list:    Anyone wanting to be added or removed should feel free to message me! :)

❄️ @baby-its-gayy-outside ❄️ @byersrainbows ❄️ @geekingbeautytx ❄️ @shadows78787 ❄️ @bingewatchingenthusiast ❄️ @joshua-rush-fanpage ❄️ @thedampjofangirl ❄️ @homosexualearthworm ❄️ @jovianspacewoman ❄️

#tyrus #andi mack #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #12 days of tyrus

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kate--beckett · 6 years ago

Text

Happy holidays

The Precinct was always hectic this time of year. When the holiday season hit the city’s level of crazy seemed to go off the scales but his family at the 12th were always determined to celebrate the light, especially at this time of year. He’d always loved seeing how the holidays swept through the place. First Halloween, then Thanksgiving and now Christmas. From his early days shadowing he’d been amazed at how the bullpen would transform with hope and wonder. When things can get tough, it’s nice to see the homicide floor celebrating the good that they keep watch over.

It also provided ample distraction when Beckett was bogged down with paperwork. He was always the first to volunteer his decorating expertise. He spent the day putting up lights, streamers, hanging snowflakes and anything else the officers he was helping out would let him get away with. He made a run to stock the break room with Christmas treats, making sure a few treats made it to the desks of those at the 12th who celebrate Hanukkah or Kwanzaa. He liked being able to do something to say thank you to them all at this time of year. Thank you for never giving up on him, thank you for having his and Beckett’s back. Thank you for taking him in and making him part of their brother and sisterhood.

He busied himself all day with little touches here and there and he thought the place looked good, even if he was a little bias. He’d find Beckett soon for her opinion, see the smile on her face she wore when he worked shoulder to shoulder with her fellow cops and the gratitude for helping out the 12th. The way she’d roll her eyes while he showed off all his handiwork.

He was in the middle of hanging the mistletoe in its usual spot near the elevator doors, LT steadying the step ladders for him.

“Looks good Castle,” he heard the soft voice of his wife approaching as climbed down from the ladder. He felt her stop at his side, as he looked up to inspect his handiwork.

He reached for her hand, pulling her towards him as he turned to pull her under the mistletoe. “Shall we test it out?” “Mr Castle!” stopped him dead as he ended up face to face with an irate Captain Gates. “I don’t care if it is Christmas and that’s mistletoe, there is no scenario where this would happen.” She informed him with a gesture between the mistletoe and Castle. Beckett stood to her mentors side, trying desperately not to laugh at the look of horror on her husbands face as he spluttered and stuttered over his apologies. “Captain… Sir… I thought…. Thought you were Beckett… I’m sorry… I.” He looked to Kate for help.

Gates shut him down with a glare, turning to Beckett as she tried to keep her composure. “I don’t know how you deal with him Kate.” She looked back at Castle, a man trying desperately to figure out how to get himself out of the situation. She had missed messing with the writer, she could admit to herself that much at least. Side-stepping around Castle,she made her way into the elevator and wished them goodnight.

He looked at his wife, amusement spreading across her face the instance the elevator door closed. “You’ve really got to stop hitting on Gates, Castle. Should I be concerned?” she teased as she wrapped her arms around him. “Guess you should look more carefully next time.” He sulked a little bit. “I didn’t know Gates was even here.” Kate took pity on him, looking around the bullpen and up at the lights and streamers hanging over them. “The place does look great,” she tried to console him. “Thank you.” She pushed him back a little so they were now standing together under the mistletoe. “But just so you know, I’m the only woman you’re allowed to drag under here.” She brushed her lips against his, feeling the smile return to his face. “As you command, Captain.”

#aww this is so sweet #and FUNNY #castle #caskett #victoria gates #otp: partners in crime and life #thefifthsister #submission #castle fanfic #drabble #thank you :)

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olicitysecretsanta · 7 years ago

Text

Holiday Traditions

Happy Holidays to @ginervamariechaseeverdeen! I hope you like your gift!

Holiday Traditions

“Are you checking that thing twice?” Felicity joked pointing to the list Oliver had been working on for an hour.

Oliver gave her one of his half smiles, before turning his attention back to the paper in front of him.

“Honey, what are you doing?” Felicity asked.

Oliver sighed. “Working on a list of Christmas traditions I want to include this year. I don’t want to forget anything. It’s our first Christmas as a family.”

Felicity sat next to him and gave him a squeeze.

“You do remember I’m Jewish, right?”

Oliver pulled out another sheet of paper and handed it to her. “Of course, that’s why I already started this list of Hanukkah traditions too. I had to call your mom for help on that one.”

He reached across the table to grab a package that had been sitting there and handed it to his wife.

“She even sent me this.”

Felicity started opening the box. “This isn’t what I think it is, is it?”

“If you’re thinking that it’s your grandmother’s recipe book, then yes.”

Felicity stared down at the book in wonder. “But my mom said I could never have this because I would probably catch it on fire in the kitchen.”

Oliver grinned. “Well, apparently since I’m your Mr. Smoak now, as she called me, that qualifies me as a member of the family who can be trusted with the sacred cookbook.”

Felicity clapped her hands with glee. “I can’t believe I’m going to be able to taste some of my favorite Hanukkah foods again! Do you think William will mind celebrating both holidays?”

Oliver laughed. “He’s really pumped. He checked out several books on Hanukkah traditions out of the library. I put him in charge of the decorations. Raisa is taking him shopping tomorrow.”

Felicity nodded and pulled out her own piece of paper. “Right, William decorates, Oliver food, and I will take care of the religious parts because I’m assuming none of you went to Hebrew school.”

Oliver looked at the list she had started. “What are you doing? I already did our Hanukkah list.”

She smiled at him. “You can plan all you want, but traditions usually start when something happens that everyone loves so much, you want to do it again next year. So your list can be holiday ideas, and my list will be the ones we tried and liked.”

Oliver nodded. “I just want this Christmas to be perfect for William. It’s his first without his mom.”

“Why don’t you ask him what traditions he and his mom had that he might want to continue? I mean, he may not want to do them all, but it might mean a lot to him to have some of those things included.”

Oliver leaned forward and kissed his wife. “See? This is why I’m so glad you’re here. I didn’t even think of that.”

Felicity rubbed her fingers through her husband’s hair (an excited shiver still went through her at the thought of him as her husband). “I’m excited that we will all be together.”

Oliver frowned at her words. “It’s kind of sad that this is our first holiday season together as a couple, not just as husband and wife.”

Felicity nodded. “Yeah, two years ago I was kind of in the hospital for Christmas. And last year…”

Oliver grimaced. “Let’s not revisit where we were last Christmas,” he said, blocking out the memory of how sad he had been to take Susan Williams to that party instead of Felicity.

Felicity kissed him as if to banish the bad memories away. “It’s okay, this will be fun, our first Christmas and Hanukkah season coming up with our own traditions out of that very long list of yours. Really, Oliver? Caroling? You hate singing!”

“Well, I don’t want to deprive you and William if that’s what you want to do.”

Felicity laughed. “Very thoughtful of you, my love, but I think we can skip that one. William is a teenager, so he probably wouldn’t be caught dead singing in public with us. Nor does he probably want to sit on Santa’s lap,” she said, crossing that one off the list.

Oliver sighed. “I missed all the cool kid stuff with him at Christmas when he was little.”

“Well, we will come up with cool stuff now. Like cookies, you have that on the list. I’m all in favor of cookies. Oooh and hot cocoa. And sparkly Christmas tree lights!”

Oliver laughed at his wife’s sudden enthusiasm for Christmas as grabbed his list from her hands. “So, I don’t have to throw this one out?”

Felicity grabbed the list back and covered it up, so he couldn’t see what she was adding. “This list is great, but I have to add a few more things.”

She giggled as she wrote and finally slid the paper over to him.

He looked down at the first thing she added. “Socks for Oliver.”

Felicity started laughing. “We have to make sure Santa brings you what you really want each year.”

“I’m a man of simple needs,” Oliver said with a grin.

“Says the former billionaire,” she teased.

“Exactly.”

He looked at her next addition to the list. “Dr. Who? What does that have to do with Christmas?”

Felicity gave him an exasperated look. “The Doctor Who Christmas Special. It’s on every year on Christmas Day. And it’s essential to the holiday.”

He gave her skeptical look.

“William and I are both excited about it! I’m so happy to have a fellow geek t watch it with this year! Besides, The Doctor is going to regenerate into a woman this year. A WOMAN!”

Oliver smiled because his wife and son had found so much to bond over. “Okay, fine, I suppose that can be on our Christmas traditions list. And Thea has requested we go ice skating at least once this season, because our parents always used to take us.”

Felicity nodded. “And of course, we want Thea to be here with us on Christmas day too.”

He agreed. “If she’s in town. She talked about visiting Roy. She’s still figuring out what she wants to do and where she wants to live.”

His wife scowled. “Well, as her big sister now, I plan on thoroughly nagging her to spend time with us.”

Oliver grinned. “She will love that.”

He looked back at his list. “Felicity, I have a problem with this last one you added.”

“What? Put up lots of mistletoe? I’m a newly married woman! Of course there will be lots of mistletoe now that I’m allowed to kiss you whenever I want.”

“Well, I object to it because it’s already on the list.”

“It is?”

“Felicity, I’m a newly married man who can now kiss you whenever I want after all. It’s first on the list.”

She laughed. Felicity smirked at him and climbed into his lap.

“You know, we want to get that tradition just right, so we probably should practice. A lot.”

She kissed him deeply.

When they parted, her heart melted at the dopey look on his face. Marriage suited Oliver Queen very well. “Well you know what they say. Practice makes perfect.”

Felicity grinned at Oliver kissed her again. Holiday planning sessions that ended up in the bedroom seemed like a perfect tradition to start this year.

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nerdiests · 7 years ago

Text

tis the season (Christmas Truce)

so. it’s the day we’re supposed to start sharing these. and here we are, with a fully written fic. so, @linziedraws happy holidays! i’ve never written dani before, so this was an adventure, but a good one!

here it is on ao3!

Dani had been all over the place. She loved to travel and had no real pressing obligations, so travel she did. Anywhere and everywhere. From Toronto to Paris to Tokyo, Dani really had been everywhere. But one particular thing stuck with her as she travelled. Most people that were as old as she appeared were travelling with family. Something Dani didn’t really have… Well, she had Danny but was she really his family? She didn’t think so.

As October ended and November began, Dani noticed people around the world putting up fake pine trees and light displays. She had heard of Christmas and Hanukkah and holiday celebrations of all sorts across the world, but she hadn’t yet experienced them. She hoped that she would get to soon, though. And considering that most - scratch that, all of those holidays occurred in December, there was a very high likelihood that Dani would get to experience the holiday cheer.

When Dani got caught up in a crowd going shopping on “Black Friday” the day she decided to come back to the US, she realized that the holiday frenzy was really… Fierce. Dani should’ve probably waited to come back until after the holidays, but she’d wanted to truly experience the holidays in their entirety and the celebrations technically started the day after Thanksgiving in the US and Dani had wanted to head back to Amity Park at some point anyways. After all, you can’t have the holidays without people to celebrate them with, right?

December was in full swing before Dani knew it. People began to put up holiday decorations, and wow those trees were really big and really sparkly. It got colder, too. There was snow all over the place, and Dani got to have a snowball fight with a group of preteens in Colorado in mid-December. It was great. 10/10 would do it again. She’d got to have hot cocoa afterwards, and needless to say, Dani had a new favorite drink.

By the time December 22nd had rolled around, Dani was in the Amity Park area, debating internally whether or not she should go and see Danny. On the one hand, Dani didn’t really have a family and Danny was as close as she would get to family, and people celebrated holidays with family, right? On the other hand… She would be intruding on his own holiday and she really didn’t want to do that. She didn’t particularly want to be alone, though.

“This is a bad idea,” Dani said to herself as she flew into Amity Park. Danny’s house should be where she remembered… Aha! The big sign kind of helped, especially since it was decked in holiday lights. Now… How would she go about getting in…

“Dani?” The girl in question whirled around midair, seeing an open window and-!

“Danny!” Dani flew towards the window, skidding to a stop right before she would hit the window.

“What’re you doing here?” Danny asked, before furrowing his brow in concern.

“You’re not melting again, are you?” he asked worriedly, and Dani shook her head rapidly.

“Nope! I’m just here ‘cause it’s the holidays and I’ve heard a lot about them, like the celebration and quality family time! And I was wondering… CouldIstayhereandcelebrate?” Dani rushed out. Danny blinked once, twice, thrice.

“...Why would I tell you you couldn’t?” Danny said slowly. Dani paused for a moment, before zipping into Danny’s room and landing on the floor.

“Oh this is gonna be great!” Dani said, pumping a fist into the air.

The next day, Dani hassled Danny into taking her shopping. She needed to get gifts for everyone, didn’t she? Danny looked a bit grouchy, but when Dani asked about it, he muttered something about rhyming and giant nutcrackers. Dani didn’t ask.

Shopping was eventful. Dani found something for the… Five? People she knew? It took time (and Danny giving advice on what to buy Sam/Tucker/Jazz/Valerie) but it was accomplished. She also snuck something for Danny that she thought he would like. Hopefully. Dani didn’t notice Danny pull his phone out and let his friends/sister/ghost hunting rival (? He didn’t know) that Dani was getting them a present (didn’t say Dani in Valerie’s case but) so they could possibly reciprocate.

The next day, Dani grew even more excited for the 25th of December because, y’know, it was tomorrow!! It would be Christmas and Dani knew that Danny had mentioned that Sam celebrated Hanukkah and that started today and Dani was just really excited for the holidays!!!

“You’re all jumpy today,” Danny commented at one point as the two walked around town looking at all the decorations people had put up for the holidays.

“Tis the holiday season, Danny! How could you not be excited? Plus I’ve never experienced the holiday season, soooo I’m really really excited!” Dani spun as she spoke, arms whirling around as she did. Danny laughed at her antics.

“I may not really like the holiday season, but I hope you can enjoy it,” Danny said. Dani grinned, before spotting a café and dragging Danny towards it, talking a mile a minute about having to try hot chocolate because that’s her favorite drink ever, c’mon Danny!!

The majority of Christmas Eve was spent like that, going around town, wishing people a happy holidays and Danny letting Dani appreciate the holiday traditions that Amity Park had to offer. Dani specifically liked the holiday lights competition Amity Park did - Danny said the theme this year was “Enjoying the Lights of Amity Park” and Dani found it beautiful. One person had strung up golden lights all over their house, and another person had stars on their roof. Danny pointed out Sam and Tucker’s house - the former had colorful lights decking out the house of all sorts and the latter had icicle-looking lights all over his roof and a cheeky sign up. Danny later told Dani Tucker had made the sign himself.

That night, Dani went around to deliver the three gifts she had bought for people that weren’t Danny or Jazz. She politely asked Sam to not open her gift until the next day, as her family had likely already opened their gifts for the day. Sam had told Dani she would wait, as it would be impolite to not. When Dani gave Tucker his gift, she told him to open it the next day with his gifts he’d get the next day, he looked at the gift longingly, before nodding and rushing inside to put it under his family’s tree. Valerie looked shocked to see her, but accepted both the gift and the condition around opening it. And as Danny and Jazz and their parents went to sleep that night, Dani snuck Danny and Jazz’s presents under the tree for them to open.

Dani woke up on December 25th full of excitement, and had to prevent herself from flinging herself through the wall to go and wake up Danny. It was Christmas!!!! And Dani had to sequester herself where Danny’s parents couldn’t find her because she technically was staying there without them knowing but? It was the holidays, and Dani wanted to spend time with her first ever friends. Which she had gotten to do, and it was nice.

A knock on the door startled Dani out of her thoughts. She blinked and looked at the door in confusion. She began to grin when she was greeted by Danny standing in the doorway with an armful of gifts.

“Heh, these are yours,” Danny said as he placed the small pile on Dani’s temporary bed. Dani’s grin grew even wider as the presents were placed and Danny gestured at them as if to say ‘what are you waiting for?’ So Dani attacked the presents with fervor.

“Sweet, a hiking backpack! Useful! Thank you Sam,” Dani said happily upon opening the first package. All the others were opened with the same enthusiasm. She loved the DS Tucker bought, along with a game called Animal Crossing and a second game with Legos on it. The novel Jazz had given her, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, looked really interesting. Valerie’s gift of a pocket knife would be practical. Danny looked a bit uneasy about giving Dani a pocket knife but Dani was ecstatic. Another useful gift! And Danny’s gift… It was wonderful.

“A book all about the stars, oh this is wonderful! Thank you Danny!” Dani exclaimed, jumping and hugging Danny. He froze, if only for a second, before returning the hug and smiling fondly.

“Merry Christmas Dani.”

#nerdiwrites #Christmas Truce 2017 #danny phantom #the dani-centric holiday fic we all knew we needed but never acknowledged we needed

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