#maybe I am not a Grinch maybe this holiday is just bad

[mumblingsage]

Survived Christmas! Including

-Undercooked chicken for dinner (Mom: "You should probably put that in the microwave if you're going to finish it." Me: "I am not going to finish it.")

-"Looking at Christmas lights" which was fun for the first hour but by the last half-hour had developed into riding through my neighborhood at 2.5 miles per hour while my mom and aunt mis-identified Santas as snowmen and snowmen as Santa. In between contemplating the failures of their eyes or brains, I browsed BlueSky on my phone and contemplated the failures of modern society. I don't think I am constitutionally capable of having panic attacks (surely I'd have had one at some point in my life before now if so) but I did consider jumping out of the car and walking back home to my pile of unread books.

[moodymelanist]

once bitten (and twice shy)

Merry Christmas, @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk! Tis I, your Secret Santa! I really hope you enjoy this fic and I'm hoping to try and post all of it this week to not keep you waiting too long... but in the meantime, enjoy the first part of this 5+1 that I've been toying around with! 🩷

thank you so much to @acotargiftexchange for putting this amazing event together! I can't wait to see what else is in store this week 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Summary: When Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn take a Christmas vacation, Nesta gets far more than she bargained for with the hot guy staying next door.

(Or 5 times Nesta didn't have time for Cassian, plus 1 time she finally did)

Read on AO3 here!

✷✷✷✷✷ Nesta

1.

When Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie had planned their girls’ trip, Nesta hadn’t exactly known what to expect. Sure, she’d assumed this sleepy, holiday town would look like something out of a winter wonderland, but as Nesta took in the sights, even a Grinch like her was forced to admit her expectations had been exceeded.

“Oh, wow,” Gwyn breathed as they came around the corner to reveal their Airbnb. It was a gorgeous house, fully decked out for the holidays with twinkling lights and a snowman out front to boot, and even Nesta had to admit it looked like something out of a Hallmark movie. The house was two stories and decked out with Christmas decor, from lights wrapped perfectly around the frame and candles glowing in each window. “It’s even prettier than the photos.”

“You sure know how to pick them,” Emerie agreed from the driver’s seat. She carefully pulled into the driveway before putting the car in park, and the three of them took one last moment to enjoy the warmth before they braved the cold December air. “Okay, let’s make this as painless as possible.”

Gwyn went to unlock the front door while Nesta and Emerie grabbed as many bags as they could carry. Thankfully, they weren’t in the cold long, and the house was just as beautiful on the inside as it was out. There were plenty of comfortable couches, picturesque sitting areas, and most importantly, three beds just as advertised. They’d paid a little more so everyone at least had their own queen-sized bed, and Nesta and Emerie would share a bedroom while Gwyn had the primary suite, given how close it was to her birthday.

“Woah,” Nesta said as she walked inside. The owners clearly hadn’t limiting their decorations to the outdoors; there was a giant, fully decked out Christmas tree in the living room, garland wrapped around the bannister on the stairs leading upstairs, and red and white stockings hanging above the fireplace.

“Woah is right,” Emerie agreed as she followed Nesta inside. “This looks like it should be in a magazine.”

“I know,” Gwyn replied, coming downstairs to help them continue unloading. “I’m a little obsessed with it.”

“Only a little?” Nesta asked, nodding at Gwyn’s ugly Christmas sweater. Today’s option was a navy sweater complete with a pattern of her cat’s face on it, and Gwyn clearly had no shame. 

“I am not ashamed of my love of the holidays,” Gwyn told her primly, “or my cat.”

“Maybe you should be,” Nesta fired back, teasing. 

“Just for that, I’m pulling my birthday card,” Gwyn announced, already turning and retreating back upstairs to her room. “Have fun unloading the rest of the car!”

Nesta met Emerie’s eyes and they shared a fond eye roll. “How much is even left?”

“You could probably do it in one trip,” Emerie answered, already backing away with her own bags in hand. “I’m gonna go… unpack my own bags.”

“So much for sisterhood!” Nesta called after Emerie’s retreating back, earning nothing but a loud laugh in return. 

It won’t even be that bad, Nesta told herself as she made sure her coat was zipped all the way up. I’ll do this in one trip if it kills me.

Nesta braved the winter air once again and made her way back to the rental car, breathing a sigh in relief when she realized she could almost certainly make it back to the house in one trip. It might take a little finagling, but it would certainly be doable. She squared her shoulders and started laying out the remaining bags, and she was about to start loading up when a voice broke her concentration. 

“You need any help with that?”

Nesta turned to see one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen in her life standing on the neighboring house’s porch with a playful look on his face. He was wearing a thick, dark green jacket, black jeans, and heavy winter boots, and she could tell he was built even through the multiple layers of clothes he had on. 

“Do I look like I need help?” she eventually said once she’d managed to find her voice. Despite how hot this guy was, she wasn’t going to fall all over herself for him.

“That sounds like a loaded question,” he said back with a lopsided grin, taking a sip of what looked like either coffee or hot chocolate. His eyes looked incredibly green because of his jacket, and they twinkled with his easy smile. “I’m going to go with no.”

“Then why are you offering?” she asked.

He laughed, and damn if that didn’t make her feel things. “Just because you don’t look like you need help doesn’t mean you don’t need it.”

“Even if I needed help, why would I accept it from a stranger?” she fired back.

“I’m Cassian,” Cassian said, and then pointed at the house behind him. “My friends and I are staying here for the week. I heard you guys pull up and thought I’d be… neighborly.”

“You wanted to be neighborly, but you’re standing there with your hands full of hot chocolate,” Nesta said back with a roll of her eyes. “Right. Makes perfect sense.”

“Who says I can’t finish my mug and then offer my services?” he retorted, raising said mug in her direction before he took another sip. 

“And what services would those be?” she replied. 

“I’m a physical therapist,” he told her, his grin turning downright sinful. “I’m good with my hands, and you seem pretty… tense.”

Nesta resolutely ignored the way heat was pooling between her thighs at the thought of how good those hands could feel on her. She was Nesta Archeron, Esq. Even if she met someone that managed to hold her interest for longer than a few minutes �� without pissing her off, of course — she didn’t have time for relationships, or for flings, or even for removing tension. Her last boyfriend certainly hadn’t been worth the effort she’d put into their relationship, and even if he hadn’t cheated, she still regretted bringing him to one of her firm’s events. He just couldn’t keep up with her; who could?

So Nesta buried her head in her work instead. She still made time for her family and friends, of course — she was on this trip with Gwyn and Emerie, and she’d see Feyre and Elain once she got back — but her degrees weren’t going to up and leave her if they got bored. Her billable hours might not always be exciting, but at least they were consistent. 

“I’m sure you are,” Nesta eventually replied, making sure to keep her voice as bland and disinterested as possible. Judging by the downright gleeful expression on Cassian’s face, she hadn’t exactly been successful, but whatever. It wasn’t like she’d be spending her entire vacation with him. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got it.”

“Never doubted that you did,” Cassian said. “But I’ll be here all week if you change your mind.”

She rolled her eyes as she began to finally load up on the bags she’d came out here for in the first place. “I won’t.”

“Who was that?” Gwyn asked when Nesta finally returned inside. She must have been watching from one of the large windows overlooking the porch, and Nesta sighed as whatever thoughts she’d had about keeping that interaction to herself went up in smoke. “You were talking to him for a while.”

“Cassian is staying in the house next door with some of his friends,” Nesta answered. “He said he wanted to be… neighborly. Help me with the bags or whatever.”

“Uh huh,” Gwyn replied with a knowing look. “Is that all he offered?”

“He said he’s a PT, and that I looked tense,” Nesta told her with a roll of her eyes. “Like he’s one to judge. He doesn’t even know me.”

“I can feel you grinding your teeth from here,” Gwyn fired back. “Trust me, you don’t need to be an expert to see you need a break.”

“Which is exactly why we’re here, isn’t it?” Nesta retorted without missing a beat. “Besides, I’d much rather relax with my friends than have my time wasted yet again.”

Nesta was thankfully saved by the bell — literally, as someone was ringing the doorbell to their Airbnb. Nesta and Gwyn exchanged glances before silently deciding to see who was at the door, the two of them looking through the frosted glass to see three people waiting for them on the other side. Cassian’s green coat was clearly visible, and the two others with him must have been the friends he’d mentioned during his conversation with Nesta. 

“Nesta, what the fuck,” Gwyn hissed under her breath. She turned to look at Nesta incredulously. “You didn’t tell me his friends were hot.”

“Who has hot friends?” Emerie asked, finally coming back downstairs at the commotion. 

“Nesta talked to one of our neighbors for the week,” Gwyn answered, “and failed to tell me how hot everyone in that house apparently is!”

“Okay, well let’s not be weird,” Emerie replied slowly, clearly still processing what Gwyn had just shared. “Everybody keep their cool, okay?”

“I’m perfectly cool,” Nesta responded with a roll of her eyes. “And for the record, I didn’t say anything because I only saw Cassian.”

“I’ll bet you did,” Gwyn muttered under her breath, pulling a snicker from Emerie and a scowl from Nesta. “Okay, okay, everyone stay calm. I’m gonna open the door now.”

Gwyn opened the door to reveal Cassian and his two friends — one a blonde woman who was around Nesta’s height, and the other a man who looked so similar to Cassian they could’ve been brothers. The blonde woman lit up at the sight of Emerie, Gwyn, and Nesta , and even Nesta had to admit she was a little underprepared for how much more gorgeous she was with a smile like that on her face. She looked like something out of a winter magazine with her pristine, all-white skiing outfit that somehow managed to show off her curves despite the thick layers of insulation. “Hi neighbors!”

“Hi,” Gwyn replied, her eyes barely resting on the blonde before she openly started ogling her taller, broodier friend. He was dressed in a black peacoat, jeans so dark they nearly looked black, and similar snowboots to Cassian. “How can we help you?”

“Not to be totally weird,” the woman began, her smile turning a little self-deprecating, “but Cassian said you guys were staying here for the week too?” 

“Yup, Nesta mentioned that,” Emerie answered, completely ignoring the daggers Nesta was shooting at the back of her head. “We’re here until Friday. I’m Emerie, by the way.”

“I’m Mor, and this is Azriel,” Mor replied, jerking her head toward Tall, Dark, and Brooding. “Sounds like you already met Cassian.”

“Unfortunately,” Nesta grumbled, extremely unamused when Cassian just grinned like a maniac. What was wrong with him? Most men ran for the hills when she showed them this level of disinterest, but it seemed like that only got him going even more. “You’re very… forward.”

“That’s what they say about me,” Cassian said. “Very forward, and very down to take you to dinner later.”

“Jesus Christ, keep it in your pants,” Mor interjected with a roll of her eyes. Nesta was torn between thanking Mor and wishing she’d given Nesta the chance to verbally eviscerate Cassian, but Nesta got the sense he’d enjoy that, too, so maybe it was for the best that Mor had intervened. “You goddamn frat bro. I’m not trying to scare them off.”

“We are both bisexual, Morrigan,” Cassian quipped back without missing a beat. “I can’t be a frat bro, it violates the rules of nature.”

“Since we’re sharing, I’m straight, Nesta’s bisexual, and Emerie’s lesbian,” Gwyn chimed in with a knowing little smirk. “In case it’s… mhmm, relevant or anything.”

“Very relevant,” Mor said, suddenly looking very much like she wanted to eat Emerie alive. She started playing with the zipper on her jacket just enough to be enticing, and even Nesta had to look away before she got sucked in. “What would you say to coming over for dinner tomorrow? We’d love to have you over once you’re settled in.”

“I’m a great chef,” Cassian added, winking at Nesta. “Azriel isn’t a half bad bartender, either.”

“I do love cocktails,” Gwyn mused. 

“I could whip up a few things,” Azriel replied, his voice low and deep. “Hope you don’t mind being my taste tester.”

Nesta could feel the moment Gwyn fell — hook, line, and sinker — and had to refrain from releasing a heavy sigh. So much for a girls trip. “That definitely won’t be a problem.”

“So it’s a date, then?” Mor prompted, her eyes lingering on Emerie for a few moments before she turned to look at Nesta expectantly. “Assuming we haven’t already scared you off.”

It felt like everyone was looking at Nesta, as though they’d all mutually decided she was the holdout, and the worst part was they weren’t even wrong. Mor clearly had eyes for Emerie — eyes that were certainly being returned, given how much lower Mor’s zipper had fallen in the last minute or so — and Azriel and Gwyn were locked in some kind of flirtatious staring contest so intense Nesta didn’t even want to look at them. All that left was Cassian eyeing Nesta up like she was a particularly difficult challenge, and the only reason she didn’t visibly bristle was the fact that she could just tell how much he’d enjoy it. 

“Well?” Gwyn said. When Nesta didn’t say anything, she whirled around to look at Nesta with murder in her teal eyes. “What do you say, ladies?”

“I guess we have dinner plans tomorrow,” Nesta said back, somehow managing not to sound too put out about it. 

“Great!” Mor chirped. She reached into her pocket and somehow managed to extricate her phone, unlocking it with a flourish before passing it over to Emerie. “Can I have your number? So we can sort out all the details?”

“Of course,” Emerie replied. She blushed as Mor passed her the phone, and Nesta had to work to suppress her groan as she realized this trip would be anything but relaxing. “Can’t wait.”

“Me either,” Mor told her with a wink. Emerie’s cheeks went pinker the longer Mor stared at her, a fact that clearly delighted her, but Nesta not-so-subtly coughed and forced the conversation to get back on track. “Okay, we’re gonna stop letting all your hot air out. See you ladies tomorrow!”

“Okay, Gwyn was right,” Emerie said the second the door was closed. “Nesta, you could’ve warned us.”

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @fieldofdaisiies | @goddess-aelin | @c-e-d-dreamer | @talkfantasytome | @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk | @sv0430 | @talibunny30 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @champanheandluxxury | @lilah-asteria | @burningsnowleopard | @sayosdreams | @readskk | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @bellaful08 | @readergalaxy | @podemechamardek | @pearlfortears | @nerdperson524 | @jmoonjones | @kale-theteaqueen | @autumnbabylon | @hiimheresworld | @illyrianshadowhunter | @dustjacketmusings | @live-the-fangirl-life | @that-little-red-head | @sweet-pea1 | @brieq | @queercontrarian | @jsmelodies | @afflicted-with-wanderlust

[thedemoninme141]

Not a bad Christmas (set in the "Not a bad day" universe)

Summary: Wednesday ended up as your "Secret Santa".

Theme: FLUFF!

Parings: Wednesday Addams & Female Reader Wordcount: 5.8k. Set in the "before dating" period

Warnings: JealousWednesday!!! Cringe Fluff?

(A/n: I know the next chapter was supposed to be in "after dating" period but I felt like it would be better in "before dating" period.)

“I am SO excited!” Enid declared, her voice loud enough to draw glances from neighboring tables. She didn’t care. "You guys, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment."

"For breakfast?" Yoko asked dryly, sipping her coffee.

"No, for this!"Enid gestured dramatically, nearly knocking over her juice. "The Christmas party! You all know Principal Weems put me in charge this year, right?"

"You’ve mentioned it," Bianca said with sarcasm. "Maybe only a hundred times."

Eugene adjusted his glasses, looking genuinely intrigued. "What’s the big deal about this year's Christmas party?"

"Eugene, it’s not just a big deal. It’s the biggest deal!" Enid leaned in, her voice dropping as she whispered "I pitched an idea to Principal Weems that is going to make this the most amazing, unforgettable Christmas party ever!"

"What’s the idea?" Eugene asked,

"I’m not telling!" Enid sing-songed. "It’s a surprise! Weems might even announce it today."

“If it’s not as groundbreaking as you’re hyping it up to be, we’re going to riot.” Bianca said dryly.

“I can handle the pressure!” Enid declared, “I was born for this. And besides, Christmas is my favorite holiday. It’s sparkly and cheerful, and everyone gets to come together! It’s the one time of year people have no excuse to be grumpy.”

Wednesday’s dark gaze flicked to Enid, a sarcastic remark brewing on her tongue. However, she bit it back, opting instead for a slow sip of coffee. Grumpy? She could name a dozen reasons why grumpiness was not only justified but necessary—especially during a holiday that encouraged excessive sentimentality. She glanced sideways at you, seated just beside Enid, you looked intrigued. Great.

She didn’t need her visions to predict that whatever Enid had in store would be an exercise in torture for her, and likely for everyone else. She hoped she would be able to ignore it, maybe stay locked in her room during Christmas but then, there was you... who just glanced back at her, giving a warm smile.

Wednesday quickly looked away, back at her food... oh wait she was done eating.

Why did you smile at her like that? Why did her heart just skip a beat? Why did her stomach twist into knots at your smile?

“Wednesday!” Enid’s voice cutting through her reverie.

“What?”

“I said, aren’t you so excited for the announcement?” Enid beamed at her, completely oblivious to Wednesday’s growing annoyance.

“Thrilled,” Wednesday deadpanned, “Nothing brings me more joy than waiting for yet another banal attempt at forced merriment.”

Enid pouted. “Come on, don’t be such a Grinch. This is going to be so fun! Right?” She nudged you with her elbow, seeking validation.

You chuckled softly, nodding. “It’ll be fun, Enid. I’m sure whatever you’ve planned is going to blow everyone away.”

“See? At least someone believes in- Oh, Weems is here!"

The din of student conversation gradually quieted as Weems stepped into the center of the quad, her presence commanding attention.

"Good morning, everyone," Weems began, her voice clear and authoritative. "As you all know, the holiday season is upon us. This year, we aim to celebrate with a bit more… normalcy, after last year’s unfortunate events." Her eyes flicked briefly toward Wednesday, who met her gaze with a defiant smirk. Unfortunate? Maybe. Enjoyable? Yes.

Weems cleared her throat. "To that end, I’m pleased to announce a new tradition for our Nevermore Christmas celebration: a Secret Santa gift exchange!"

The announcement was met with a collective groan from the students.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Yoko muttered. "Ugh, I hate shopping for other people," Bianca complained

"What if we just… don’t do it?" someone called out from another table.

Weems’ smile tightened, her patience visibly waning. "Participation is mandatory. Each student will draw a name at random later today and will be expected to provide a thoughtful, appropriate gift."

"This is absurd," Wednesday declared, her tone icy. "Forcing us to partake in such a vacuous activity only reinforces the notion that conformity is more valued than individuality."

"Oh, come on, Wednesday," Enid said, her excitement undiminished. "It’ll be fun! You might get something you like."

"Doubtful," Wednesday retorted. "Unless my Secret Santa has access to poison or medieval torture devices or a collection of preserved organs or..."

Your giggle interrupted her, earning a sharp glance from Wednesday. "You know, it’s not that bad," you said, leaning slightly toward her. "Maybe you’ll get something one of those things."

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. "Hightly unlikely"

Enid, meanwhile, was practically bouncing in her seat. "I can’t wait to see who I get! This is going to be amazing!"

"Amazing for you," Bianca said dryly. "For the rest of us? Not so much."

Weems raised her hand for silence. "That will be all for now. The details of the exchange will be posted later today. I trust you all will approach this with the spirit of the season in mind." Wednesday wants to summon a sprit to haunt that excuse of a principal.

With that, Weems turned and strode away, leaving the quad to devolve once more into hushed complaints and reluctant acceptance. Enid turned to you, her eyes sparkling.

"This is going to be SO GREAT!" she said, grabbing your arm. "I already have, like, a million gift ideas. What about you? Are you excited?"

You smiled, glancing briefly at Wednesday, whose scowl had deepened even more as if that was even possible. "I think it’ll be… interesting."

"Interesting?" Enid repeated. "It’ll be fantastic! Secret Santa could be a good bonding activity.” Enid said, her chipper tone grating against Wednesday’s mood.

“I’d rather bond with a guillotine,” Wednesday muttered as the group started gathering their things for class. Enid, still beaming with unrelenting excitement about the Secret Santa announcement, latched onto Wednesday’s arm, chattering nonstop about potential gift ideas and how this year’s Christmas party would outshine any before it. Wednesday, for her part, thought about finding whoever this Santa Claus is and putting an end to him.

Entering the classroom, Wednesday took her usual seat and Enid plopped into the chair beside her. You were just a few seats ahead, settling into your spot. The seat next to you, tantalizingly empty…

Nate? Nick? or whatever his forgettable name was appeared in the doorway. His eyes scanned the room, landing on the empty seat beside you. He brightened instantly, taking a step forward as though he were about to claim it.

Then his gaze shifted to Wednesday.

Wednesday’s expression remained perfectly neutral, except for the sharp, unmistakable intensity in her dark eyes. She didn’t flinch, didn’t speak. She simply stared at him.

The boy froze mid-step, his face paling. His eyes flicked to the faint burns on his hand, still healing from the “accidental” cocoa incident at the ugly sweater party.

“Oh, hell no,” he muttered under his breath, spinning on his heel and fast-walking to a corner seat as far away from Wednesday as possible.

The scene would’ve pleased Wednesday had it not been for the way you glanced back at her, curious and faintly confused. She quickly diverted her gaze, feigning interest in the carved graffiti on her desk.

Moments later, Bianca came in. Her eyes immediately landed on the empty seat beside you. She started walking toward it, only to pause midway. Instead of sitting there, she veered toward Enid and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Enid,” Bianca said smoothly “mind switching seats with me?”

Enid’s face lit up. “Of course! You can sit here! I can sit next to Y/N!” She began gathering her things without hesitation, practically skipping to the seat beside you.

Bianca slid into Enid’s vacated spot,

“You are not wanted here,” Wednesday said icily, her tone as sharp as a blade.

Bianca rolled her eyes. “Relax, Addams. I’m not here for your sparkling personality. I just figured sitting here was safer.”

“Safer? Why would sitting beside "me" would be safer?” Wednesday’s tone turned even colder.

Bianca smirked. “Please, as if we haven’t noticed how you practically plot murders in your head for anyone who gets too close to Y/N.”

Wednesday’s spine straightened, her glare intensifying. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, spare me the denial,” Bianca said dismissively. “Enid is safe from your wrath because, well… she’s Enid. But me? Let’s just say I care too much about my life to be a victim of your jealousy.”

“I am not jealous,” Wednesday hissed, her voice low but venomous.

“Uh-huh.” Bianca gave her a knowing look before turning her attention to the front of the room, clearly enjoying herself.

Wednesday’s hands clenched into fists beneath the desk, her dark eyes flitting back to you. You were laughing softly at something Enid had said, your smile so warm it could melt snow. Wednesday felt a strange mix of frustration and longing twist in her chest. How could someone like you affect her so profoundly without even trying?

“Alright, class,” the teacher finally announced, setting down her book with a flourish, “we’re ending a little early today because it’s time to find out who your Secret Santa recipient will be!”

“Yes! Finally!” Enid exclaimed, bouncing in her seat like a hyperactive puppy.

Wednesday’s gaze shifted to the front of the room, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. A new wave of dread crept into her mind. This was it, the moment she’d been dreading since Weems’s announcement.

“Each of you will receive a small box. Inside that box is the name of the person you’ll be playing Secret Santa for." The teacher said, "Miss Sinclair, I believe you have the materials?”

“Oh! Yes, one sec!” Enid practically bolted from her chair, nearly toppling it in her haste. She sped out of the room in a blur of rainbows🌈🌈🌈, leaving everyone staring after her.

Wednesday felt like it hadn't even been 5 secs before Enid burst back into the classroom with a large, overly festive box clutched in her arms.

“Ta-da!” she declared, dropping the box onto the teacher’s desk with an audible thud.

Several students groaned at the display.

“Why is it so… glittery?” The teacher asked.

“It’s Christmas!” Enid replied, as if that explained everything. She opened the larger box to reveal an assortment of tiny boxes, each neatly wrapped and tied with red ribbons. “Pretty, right?”

Wednesday arched an eyebrow. “If you mean ‘pretty excessive,’ then yes.”

Enid ignored her, already grabbing a smaller box. “Okay, so I’ll start handing these out! Bianca, wanna help?”

Bianca sighed but stood anyway, muttering, “Might as well get this over with.”

The two of them began pulling out the tiny boxes, reading the names written on them, and distributing them around the room. Students grumbled their thanks, some reluctantly and others with mild curiosity as they turned the boxes over in their hands.

When Enid finally reached Wednesday, her excitement was still at an all-time high. “Here you go, Wends!” She thrust the small box toward her.

Though Enid had wrapped the box with black paper, Wednesday stared at the box as though it might explode. She took it with her usual reluctance, her fingers brushing against the ribbon’s texture.

With deliberate slowness, Wednesday pulled the ribbon loose, lifted the lid, and peered inside.

Hopefully, it would be someone she loathed. The possibilities were endless: a smug siren, an irritating vampire, or perhaps even that one werewolf who insisted on howling every full moon at midnight since she wolfed out. Yes, she could relish the challenge of giving them the worst, most spiteful gift imaginable.

But luck had a way of avoiding her at the worst times.

The name on the slip of paper felt like a slap in the face.

Curse you, Enid Sinclair.

Y/N L/N.

Her stomach dropped. Of all the names. Of all the cursed possibilities.

Wednesday’s chest tightened. This was a disaster.

Being your Secret Santa meant she’d have to think about you even more than she already did. She’d have to choose a gift, something meaningful, something that wouldn’t betray the tangled mess of emotions she felt whenever you were near. She couldn’t risk exposing herself, couldn’t let you know how much you affected her.

And yet, a small, treacherous part of her was… excited. The thought of giving you something, of seeing your reaction, was almost enough to outweigh her dread. Almost.

Her jaw clenched. No. She couldn’t let this ridiculous tradition get to her. She’d find the most generic, impersonal gift possible and be done with it. That was the only way to survive this.

But as she watched you lean back in your chair, your gaze flickering toward her with a curious smile, Wednesday felt her resolve waver.

This was going to be the longest Christmas of her life.

Enid practically hop-skipped down the hall as she clutched a small notebook filled with ideas for Eugene’s Secret Santa gift to her chest. She was going to be the best Secret Santa ever.  

"Maybe I can knit him a bee-themed scarf! Or get him a limited edition honey collection—do they even make those? I’ll make it happen!"

She pushed the door open to their shared dorm room, fully expecting to see Wednesday brooding on her typewriter or reading some obscure book about medieval torture methods. Instead, she froze mid-step.

"Wednesday… what the hell is this?"

Wednesday had her cursed investigation board back out, its surface covered in a chaotic mess of photos, red strings, and notes. At first glance, it looked like Wednesday was solving another gruesome murder in the woods.

Enid’s pulse quickened. "Oh no, no, no. What happened now? Did some monster claw its way out of the woods again?"

Wednesday didn’t immediately respond. She was too engrossed in pinning another photo to the board, her expression dark with concentration. Enid’s eyes scanned the board, her heart pounding as she prepared for the worst. But then her gaze landed on the pictures.

Your pictures...

Not once, not twice, but in multiple photos. Some candid shots of you laughing in the quad, others from a class project presentation, even one blurry photo of you reading in the library. There were sticky notes around them, though the handwriting was too small for Enid to make out. She blinked, her mouth falling open.

“Wednesday,” she began cautiously “what is this? What did Y/N do?”

Finally, Wednesday turned her head to look at Enid, her expression unreadable, clearly annoyed at the interruption. “Y/N did nothing.”

“Then why... why is she all over your investigation board?! Are you trying to prove she’s some kind of secret villain or something? Because I’m telling you, Wednesday, Y/N is, like, the nicest person I know.”

Without a word, Wednesday plucked a folded slip of paper from her desk and shoved it into Enid’s hands. Enid unfolded it and read the name written in sharp, neat letters.

Y/N L/N.

The realization dawned on Enid almost instantly. Her lips parted, forming an "O" of understanding. "Ohhhhh," she said, drawing the sound out like a squeaky balloon. "You’re her Secret Santa!"

"Astute observation," Wednesday deadpanned, crossing her arms.

Enid’s eyes darted back to the board, her previous panic replaced with intrigue. "So, is this—?"

"Yes," Wednesday interrupted with a sigh, "This is… research."

"Research?" Enid echoed, "Wednesday, this is borderline stalking. You don’t need an entire murder board to pick out a gift!"

Wednesday’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond. Her gaze flicked back to the board.

Enid’s eyes scanned the chaotic collage again, only to land on a picture of another student, a girl... Darcy? Enid remembers. Unlike the others, this photo had a bright red circle drawn around it.

"Uh, Wednesday?" Enid said cautiously, pointing at the circled picture. "Why is Darcy on here?"

Wednesday’s response was immediate and emotionless. "That girl is Y/N’s nemesis. I thought perhaps eliminating her would be an appropriate gift."

Enid gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "Nemesis? What the hell are you talking about?!"

"Darcy spilled coffee on Y/n." Wednesday said flatly.

“Spilled Coffee??!!” Enid repeated, her voice rising in disbelief. “Darcy spilled coffee on Y/N six months ago. By accident! And she apologized, like, a hundred times.”

“Same thing,” Wednesday said, her tone indifferent.

"Alright alright. Lets take it down a bit. Have you tried thinking about something normal? Maybe a book." Enid asked shrugging.

Wednesday glared at Enid. “A book? How unimaginative. I refuse to insult her intelligence with something so pedestrian.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to help,” Enid shot back. "How about you tell me the list of what you have considered."

“A taxidermy specimen,” Wednesday offered.

“Dial it back.”

“An antique dagger that captures the souls of its victim.”

“No, that's... wait... does that actually exist?”

“A preserved tarantula.”

“Wednesday!” Enid groaned, throwing her head back. “You can’t give her something creepy! You’ll scare her off!”

Wednesday’s expression darkened, and she muttered under her breath, “It’s better than being dull.”

“Look,” Enid said, stepping closer and placing a hand on Wednesday’s shoulder. “I get it, okay? You like her. Like, really like her. And that’s scary and new to you, I get it. But you’re making this way harder than it needs to be. Just think about what would make her smile. That’s all that matters.”

Wednesday’s gaze softened, her usual sharp retort dying on her lips. She glanced at the board one more time, her mind swirling with uncertainty. “What if… I choose wrong?”

Enid smiled gently. “You won’t. You know her better than you think.”

Wednesday didn’t argue. But as she looked back at the pictures of you... and that smile. Maybe the answer really was simple.

And so, she found herself standing at the edge of the quad.  her dark eyes surveying the chaos.

She held the small box in her hand, its contents weighing far more heavily on her mind than its actual physical mass. The box was simple plain black, tied with a thin crimson ribbon.

This was idiotic. Completely, utterly idiotic.

Ridiculous, she thought, glancing down at the gift. Why should this be any different from any other calculated gesture?

But it was different. You made it different.

She inhaled deeply, the cold air filling her lungs before she began her measured descent into the quad. Her steps were deliberate, slow.

Around her, students chatted and mingled and she felt their eyes occasionally drift toward her, as they always did, but tonight, she barely noticed. Her focus was elsewhere.

You.

Wednesday spotted you almost instantly. You were seated at one of the circular tables near the center of the quad, surrounded by her circle of idiots. Each of them had their gifts piled near their chairs, wrapped in colorful paper that made Wednesday inwardly puke. There was something almost unsettling about seeing you like this.

Enid whispered something to you and you smiled but, that smile didn't quite reach your eyes. Your usual brightness was dimmed tonight, replaced with an air of... nervousness? Contemplation? Whatever it was, it made her chest tighten in a way she didn’t entirely understand.

As she neared the table, Enid was the first to notice her. The werewolf’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Wednesday! You made it!” Enid’s voice rang out, drawing the attention of the entire table.

Your eyes met hers, and for a fleeting moment, the noise around her faded. The nervousness in your expression softened slightly, replaced by something gentler. You offered a small, shy smile that sent an unfamiliar warmth spreading through Wednesday’s chest. She quickly averted her gaze, clearing her throat as she reached the table.

"Of course, she made it," Bianca drawled, leaning back in her chair with a smirk. "Our personal Christmas Grinch wouldn’t miss the chance to haunt us while we are trying to have some fun."

Wednesday’s gaze snapped to Bianca, her dark eyes narrowing. "If I wanted to haunt you, Bianca, I’d do it with far more creativity than attending this… overdecorated spectacle."

"Overdecorated spectacle? Some of us put effort into this, you know." Enid pouted "Well at least you came, so come on, have a seat!" Enid said brightening up again as she patted the empty seat beside her.

Reluctantly, Wednesday slid into the offered seat, her posture as stiff as ever. She placed the box on her lap, keeping it hidden from view, her fingers resting on the ribbon as if to reassure herself it was still there.

"Hot cocoa?" Eugene offered, holding out a steaming mug.

"No," Wednesday replied flatly, her eyes darting briefly to you. She doesn't need to burn anyone. For now.

You glanced up then, your gaze meeting hers for a fleeting moment before you quickly looked away, a faint blush dusting your cheeks. Wednesday’s stomach twisted at the sight, though she couldn’t pinpoint why.

You reached for your drink and for a moment, you seemed lost in thought again. Your brow furrowed ever so slightly, and your gaze drifted to the flickering lights above. Wednesday's eyes narrowed as she observed you, her mind racing to decode the emotions playing across your face.

Were you nervous? Sad? Or perhaps simply tired of the holiday cheer? Was it the Secret Santa event? Did you draw someone you weren’t fond of?

Who had you drawn? And what had you chosen for them? The thought unsettled her more than it should have. A fleeting image of you selecting a thoughtful gift for someone else sent a sharp pang of irritation through her. You, holding a gift, your face bright with anticipation as you presented it to some undeserving fool.

Perhaps that girl you’d partnered with in herbology last week or the one who lingered too long near your station, or the one who asked you on a dance in the ugly sweater party... maybe she would need to burn someone after all.

Before she could spiral further into her thoughts she felt the chatter quiet almost instantly and Wednesday didn't bother looking at the stage.

“Good evening, everyone,” Weems began, her voice carrying effortlessly over the crowd. “I’m delighted to see so many of you here tonight, embracing the spirit of the season”

Wednesday suppressed a groan, straightening in her chair but not bothering to feign interest.

Weems continued, her smile widening as she surveyed the gathering. “This year has been relatively… uneventful.” She hesitated just a fraction of a second, her gaze lingering momentarily on Wednesday before moving on. “For which I am profoundly grateful.”

That earned a few chuckles from the crowd, and Wednesday’s lips twitched in faint irritation. Uneventful? That was certainly one way to describe it. From monsters lurking in the woods and unraveling a centuries-old conspiracy to.... brooding. Yeah.. that's what Wednesday found herself doing last year... Was Bianca right about her brooding all the time?  

She should’ve hated this year, every day of it. It was, by all accounts, actually uneventful. The monotony alone should’ve driven her mad.

But it hadn’t.

And she knew exactly why.

Her gaze flicked back to you, almost involuntarily. You were still seated, your hands now wrapped around your cup as you leaned closer to Enid, nodding along to whatever trivial nonsense she was whispering in your ear. You didn’t look extraordinary, not in the conventional sense. Your sweater was unassuming. And yet, to Wednesday, you radiated something inexplicably magnetic.

It was because of you.

Wednesday’s fingers tightened around the ribbon of the box in her lap, her thoughts momentarily scattered. She should have hated this year, loathed it for its lack of intellectual stimulation and excitement. But no matter how much she tried, that hatred never came.

Because of you.

She sighed, a sound barely audible even to herself, and returned her attention to Weems, who was still mid-speech. “This year has proved what Nevermore can be,” Weems declared, her tone resolute. “A place of growth and of potential. As we stand on the brink of a new year, let us carry forward the bonds we’ve strengthened here tonight.” Weems’ gaze swept over the gathered students, lingering briefly on Wednesday, as if daring her to contradict the sentiment. Wednesday met her gaze with a neutral expression, unwilling to give the principal the satisfaction of any visible reaction.

“And so,” Weems concluded, her voice warm yet authoritative, “let us feast, celebrate, and look forward to the possibilities that lie ahead. Happy holidays, my dear students.” A polite smattering of applause followed, and Weems stepped back, gesturing toward the long tables laden with food at the edge of the quad. The students began to stir, rising from their seats and drifting toward the table.

From her seat, Wednesday found herself observing Enid tearing into her food, a sight both grotesque and vaguely amusing.

“Enid, you’re one drumstick away from wolfing out right here.” Bianca quipped from across the table.

Enid shot Bianca a pointed look, her cheeks already puffed out like a chipmunk’s from the food she was furiously chewing. Swallowing with a dramatic gulp, she said, “Hey! It’s not my fault everything tastes so good! And for your information, I was busy all day! You think this whole event planned itself?”

Wednesday barely registered the conversation, her dark eyes fixed on her untouched plate. The food, no matter how well-prepared or fragrant, was irrelevant to her. Her mind churned with far more pressing matters.

The gift.

The prospect of giving you the gift in front of everyone at the table was a particular source of dread. She was not one for public displays, especially when it came to something as vulnerable as this. What if they mocked her choice? Worse, what if you did?

Wednesday’s fingers tightened around the box, her knuckles whitening. She refused to entertain that thought any longer. No. You wouldn’t mock her. You weren’t like the others.

You were kind... loving and you weren't... at the table?

Her heart skipped a beat as she scanned the immediate area. You were nowhere in sight. The seat you had occupied moments ago was empty, your plate still half-full. Wednesday’s brow furrowed, a sliver of unease creeping in.

Where had you gone? She hadn’t seen you leave. Had she been so lost in her own head that she missed it?

And then she saw it—a small piece of paper resting just beside her plate. Her brows furrowed as she reached for it, unfolding it with deliberate care. The handwriting was unmistakable.

Meet me near the fountain.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Wednesday’s lips, unbidden but not unwelcome. Of course, it was you. Who else would have the audacity to summon her like this?

She folded the note carefully and tucked it into her pocket before rising to her feet.

Enid paused mid-bite “Where are you going? You barely touched your food!”

Wednesday didn't bother answering as she made her way through the crowd. Each step felt deliberate, measured. Her grip tightened around the small box in her hand as she approached the pathway leading to the fountain, her mind already racing.

What would she say when she saw you? Would she hand over the gift without a word, letting the gesture speak for itself? Or would she attempt something more... personal? Words weren’t her forte, especially not when it came to feelings. And yet, with you, words seemed both inadequate and entirely necessary.

And there you were.

Sitting on the bench, your back straight but your posture relaxed, you stared ahead at the frozen fountain.

For the briefest moment, Wednesday froze. Her mind, usually a whirl of calculated plans and sharp observations, was disturbingly blank. You looked so...you.

Finally, she took a breath, steady and controlled, and stepped forward.

You must have heard her approach because you turned your head just as she reached the bench.

Your eyes found hers.

That smile, the same smile. that had marked its place in... her unnecessary blood-pumping machine they called "heart". There was something different about it this time, though. It wasn’t the shy or nervous smile from earlier. It was warm, inviting, and... knowing. As if you had been waiting for her all along.

You patted the empty space beside you. “Sit.”

Wednesday hesitated for only a second before lowering herself onto the bench. She glanced at you from the corner of her eye, noting the way you rested your hands in your lap, your fingers brushing against one another absentmindedly. You were close, closer than she realized, and the proximity was enough to make her hyperaware of her every movement.

How does one start something like this? She had rehearsed no fewer than twenty scenarios in her mind, yet now, sitting here beside you, they all felt insufficient.

“Do you believe in fate, Wednesday?”

The question caught her off guard. She turned her head to look at you fully, her brow furrowing as she considered your words.

“Fate?” she repeated, her tone skeptical. “The idea that our lives are predetermined by some cosmic force?”

You nodded, your gaze unwavering.

“Fate,” she repeated, her tone contemplative. “A concept often romanticized but rarely substantiated. It implies predestination, a lack of autonomy, which I find… unsatisfactory.”

You chuckled softly, the sound light and modest, yet it sent a ripple through her. “That’s a very Wednesday answer,”.

“And what would your answer be?” she countered, her gaze steady on you.

“I think,” you began, your eyes returning to the fountain, “that fate isn’t about things being preordained. It’s about moments, little choices that lead us to places we never expected to be. Like… sitting here, tonight, with you.”

Her chest tightened, the weight of your words pressing against her usual walls of detachment. You had a way of saying things that left no room for deflection, no safe harbor for her to retreat to.

“Perhaps,” she said after a pause, her voice quieter, “fate is less about inevitability and more about… alignment. An intersection of paths.”

You tilted your head, considering her words, and then smiled. “I like that.”

The silence returned, but this time, it felt warmer, less daunting. You shifted slightly, your shoulder brushing against hers, a small, fleeting touch that sent a spark of something unfamiliar coursing through her.

“There’s something I need to give you,” she said finally, her voice steady but softer than usual.

You turned to her, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “Oh?”

She held the box out toward you, her movements precise but tinged with an underlying hesitation.

"You are my secret santa?" Your lips quirked into a teasing smile as you accepted the box. “I hope it’s not a tarantula,” you joked.

“It’s not,” she replied flatly.

You untied the ribbon carefully, your fingers deliberate as you removed the lid. Inside was a glass globe, delicate and intricately crafted. In the center stood two shadowy figures, featureless yet unmistakably human, lost in their own world, but at peace.

Your fingers hovered over the small button at the base of the globe. With a curious glance at Wednesday, you pressed it.

The soft melody of the piano that played was instantly recognizable. Your eyes widened, and you turned to her.

Your breath hitched as you glanced at her. “Wednesday, is this...?”

“The ugly sweater party night,” she finished for you, her eyes flicked back to the globe, unable to meet yours. “A memory. One I thought you should have, too.”

Your smile was radiant, and for the first time, she felt as though she had done something right, truly right.

And then you snapped your fingers.

A small, glowing purple portal materialized in the air, swirling and pulsating with quiet energy. You reached into it, your movements unhurried, and pulled out a rectangular box wrapped in deep blood-red paper. The portal vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving no trace behind.

So, you could conjure portals. That explained how you’d managed to place the note near her earlier without her noticing, a feat she had, until this moment, deemed improbable. You possessed a skill that defied logic and simplicity, and though she hated to admit it, she was impressed.

You held the box out toward her, “I am your Secret Santa too, Wednesday,” you said, your voice light, a trace of mischief dancing on your lips. “Talk about fate, huh?”

Wednesday tilted her head ever so slightly, her dark eyes flicking between you and the box now resting in your lap. "I am skeptical of calling it fate. A calculated scheme seems more acceptable.”  ENID.

Slowly, she reached out and took the box, its weight heavier than she anticipated. You watched her with quiet anticipation, she tore away the paper, revealing a wooden case beneath. Her brow furrowed slightly as she opened the case, her breath catching the moment her eyes fell upon the contents.

Inside was a dagger, encased in glass, its blade gleaming even in the dim light of the fountain. But this wasn’t just any dagger.

The hilt was ornate, at its base, a ruby-red gemstone sat nestled within the design, pulsing faintly as though alive. The blade itself was thin, wickedly sharp, and etched with complicated patterns A faint inscription ran along its length in a language she recognized as Hungarian.

Her eyes widened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, a genuine, real smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. She recognized this blade instantly.

“Elizabeth Báthory’s dagger,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. The infamous serial killer of the 1600s, known for her brutal methods and rumored vampiric tendencies, had wielded this blade. Legends spoke of its dark history, of how it was used to drain the blood of her victims.

“How did you get this?” she asked, her voice low, almost adoring.

You shrugged lightly. “I have my ways.”

Wednesday’s gaze returned to the dagger, her fingers brushing against the glass casing as if to confirm its reality. Her mind raced with the implications of the gift, not just its historical significance, but what it meant coming from you.

You had given her something she cherished, not for its material value, but for what it represented.

You saw her. Not the façade she presented to the world, but the depths of her being, the parts most people recoiled from or misunderstood.

You didn’t shy away from the darkness that fascinated her; instead, you embraced it, honored it even, cared for it... cared for her...

The weight of that realization settled over her, mingling with an unfamiliar warmth that she didn’t know how to name.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t notice you leaning closer until your head rested gently on her shoulder.

She froze.

Her gaze flicked to you briefly. You were gazing down at the globe in your lap, the soft melody still playing. Her eyes returned to the dagger. She allowed herself a small, almost imperceptible sigh, her gaze fixed on the ruby gemstone embedded in the dagger’s hilt.

Not a bad Christmas. Not bad at all.

Wanted to post this in Christmas night... but finished early. Comment how you guys liked it!

Also comment what you would've given Wednesday as her secret santa.

->WORKLIST<-

[meetmypointlessaddiction]

December Fics Day 7 ~ Holiday Cheer

Thanks or all the comments and support on the other parts of this Daily Fic challenge, it means a lot and I'm so glad people are enjoying what I'm writing 💛

Just a reminder that my requests are also open for any Logan ideas that you have or even if it's just to share any thoughts. 🫶

Summary: Logan's refusal to get in the Christmas spirit ruins your mood. How will he make up for it?

Warnings: like the teeniest bit of angst, but like it's not even really that angsty

Pairings: pretty sure this is suitable for everyone (fem!reader/male!reader/gn!reader) however towards the end in a conversation with Storm I feel like I may have slipped a little and it leans more towards a female reader

Enjoy and please like and comment if you do. Something as simple as an emoji literally makes my day better so please don't hesitate to comment and obviously reblog to share my work.

December Masterlist

Getting Logan into the festive spirit was difficult. And  that was putting it nicely. Just as you’d expect, the man was a huge grinch and no matter how much you begged and pleaded, Logan refused to participate in any of the festivities that were going on around the school. 

For example, you were currently chasing him around your bedroom, trying to force a Christmas jumper on his. Around Christmas time, the dress code for teachers changed from formal to Christmas jumpers and so it was tradition for you all to wear ugly jumpers or fancy ones or one with flashing Christmas tree lights on the. “I am not wearing that. It’s awful.” Logan said, shut away in the bathroom, the door locked and his body against it to prevent you from opening it. 

“Logan, come on. Seriously, it’s not that bad. Besides, all the teachers are wearing one, it’s tradition.” You pleaded through the door, your head rested against it as you tried to bargain with him. “We can go out to that nice steakhouse you like if you wear it?” You tried but he was having none of it. “Fine, you big baby. Don’t wear one.” 

Logan thought that was the end of it but, like usual with you, there was always something else. He got two days of peace, living his life as the grinch of the mansion before you were yet again chasing him, trying to force him into some festive item.

~~~~~~~~~~

He was at the other side of the kitchen counter, glaring at you as you held up a pair of pyjama pants, decorated with red candy canes and gingerbread men. “Oh Logan please! We’ll be matching and it’ll be cute. Nobody even has to see you in them, I’m not asking you to walk around the school in them.” 

“Bub I don’t wear shit like that, you know this.” He argued, unwilling to crumble to your wishes. You glared at him and threw the pyjama bottoms onto the kitchen counter. He noticed how every time he turned you down, the sadness on your face seemed to multiply. Was he being harsh?

~~~~~~~~~~

Three days before Christmas and you were in a mood with Logan. You had asked him to wear a Christmas hat to the dinner that evening and he had refused, straight up refused. Not even the usual bickering that you had before you finally left him alone, the man said no and went and locked himself in his office. Maybe he was being a grump but he didn’t want to wear the damn hat and your puppy dog eyes could not convince him otherwise.

It wasn’t until Storm knocked on his office door, asking to come in to talk about something that he realised how much he had messed up. “You’ve really upset them, you know, Logan?” Storm pointed out and Logan looked up from the work he was marking. 

“Huh? How have I? I don’t wanna wear the damn Christmas stuff, it ain’t that big a deal.” He grunted and Storm whacked the back of his head. 

“Jesus Christ Logan how dense can you be? This is your first Christmas officially together. The first Christmas where the pair of you aren’t just having some kind of fling. The matching pyjamas, the Christmas jumper, the Santa hat. They want to make memories with you, they want to be able to look back on your first Christmas together and recall all the cute shit you guys did. Instead, you’ve spent the majority of the month being a grumpy grinch and turning them down with every request they had.” Storm explained and Logan’s face softened. 

“Oh…” He muttered. “I didn’t realise it meant that much. I just-.” 

“This proves how dense men are. You’ve had almost 200 years on this earth to figure out people’s emotions and you’re still clueless. Look, I don’t know how you can fix it but you better find a way to before Christmas Day otherwise Christmas dinner is going to be awkward for everyone.” With that she left and Logan immediately knew how to fix it. 

~~~~~~~~~~

On Christmas Eve, while you were in your office grading papers, he slipped into your shared bedroom, finding the Christmas jumper, the pyjama pants and the santa hat, putting them all on. He had been a bought a big bouquet of roses and some sweet Christmas themed treat that you had raved about all month, putting them on your bedside table before lounging on the bed, waiting for you to return. 

When you trudged back into your shared room a little before 10PM, you weren’t expecting Logan to be awake, nevermind sat on the end of the bed, dressed in festive attire holding a bouquet of red roses and a box and treats. “What-?” 

“I’ve been a dick and I’m tryna make it up to you. Storm kinda pointed out to me that this Christmas is more that just a holiday. It’s out first one officially as… well as a couple and I should have been more considerate of how you wanted to celebrate it and I’m sorry I’ve been turning you down.” He finished with a deep breath, standing from the bed and holding out the flowers and chocolate. You took them from him and noticed the note sticking out of the flowers. 

Sorry for being a dick, I’ll do better. Yours always, L.

“Logan…” You could feel the tears brewing as he held you against his chest, one hand on the back of your head and the other on the small of your back. “I’m sorry too… I shouldn’t have been so pushy. You didn’t wanna wear them and I got way too upset about it.” 

“Nah I was being a baby. The jumper isn’t even that bad and the hat is kind of cool, well the kids seemed to like it anyway.” He admitted and you noticed how he had pulled the return tag out of the pyjama bottoms. 

“You know that you can’t return those pants now that you’ve pulled the tag out?” You pointed out and the tips of his ears flushed pink. 

“Well they umm… I like em. They’re comfy and well… I wanna match with you.” He mumbled and you couldn’t help but kiss the adorable, shy smile from his face. “Merry Christmas, bub.”

This might be my favourite one I've written so far so let me know what you think!

Dividers: @coolcatsgraphics

I'm also on A03 :)

[starsofarda]

Christmas with the Feanorians

I would like to thank @erendur for giving me enough rope for my shenanigans.

Tolkien, ILU but sometimes I need to take everything less seriously.

Of course TIS THE SEASON and I am in my transformation in a Christmas Elf, whilst my SO is becoming the Grinch.

Anyway, possible modern AU, the Feanorians and Christmas, stemming directly from this post.

So, we know how Feanor could be ©Extra™, but what would he be like during the Christmas holidays in a modern AU? Well, LOOK NO FURTHER.

I am basically copypasting my brainstorming session and expanding on it.

Unfortunately Feanor is a "go big or go home" guy when it comes to decorating for Xmas, figure the outside plastered in luminous deers, trees, elves, santas and all the works. You can spot his house from at least two miles afar. He will dress up as Santa*, show up with like all sorts of trinkets, hand-write "Santa's response letters" to his children. The inside of his house is cobered in holly decorations, Yule logs, xmas trees, xmas music all over the place. the guy is extra.

*or Father Christmas, your choice, regardless of who he dresses like he's gonna look like Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas, he is very tall, very lanky and he's not gonna be a fat old man delivering gifts.

this also prompts several arguments over the xmas dinner with Fingolfin, cue Finarfin trying to be the peacemaker, all the "not in front of the kids", the "language" and all. In the meantime every single one of the kids, regardless of who's the father, is a different flavour of terror. Nerdanel is with her SILs and nieces, at a certain point Aredhel just starts a treasure hunt with Celegorm and his dog Huan. It's chaos. Maedhros is with Fingon and maybe Maglor, if Maglor and Finrod are not playing Guitar Hero. And so on. Also did someone mention "ugly sweaters"? Yep. All of them lovingly crafted by grandma Miriel (in this AU she is alive, just very divorced from Finwe, but alive). Grandma Indis supplies the wreaths. Grandpa Finwe is sitting by the porch and enjoying some eggnog.

All is good. Feanor and Fingolfin will keep arguing till the end of time. As it was pointed out, this definitely looks like National Lampoon's Christmas holiday.

Now, some clarifications.

THE ELVES They are indeed Feanor's apprentices dressed as Father Christmas's elves. They take turns. They are low key enjoying the attention. Speaking of. I rectify myself, it's not Santa, but Father Christmas and his assistant polar bear - reference to Tolkien's "Letters from Father Christmas". I know Tolkien would have hated it, but this is a modern au. Whatever floats my boat. As for the ugly jumpers: Ofc Feanor has the Silmarils surrounded by snowflakes, deers and red robins. His jumper is red. Maedhros has got a green one with winter gnomes and a "happy yuletide" in elegant lettering. Fingon has a blue one with an icy mountain and penguins with silver scarves and hats.

So. The apprentices don't really mind being hired as Christmas Elves, Feanor pays well and it's all fun and games. They basically get to be up to any shenanigans they can conjure up, because in Feanor's forge not only he is Extra, but his apprentices are the Least Chill on Arda. They will cause problems on purpose, only rule is "be nice to the children" and "don't damage property in a significant way", but everything else is game. They get to dress in fun outfits as a plus.

Miriel and Indis are both there, mostly ignoring Finwe and doting on their daughters in law.

As for the jumpers.

Grandma Miriel lovingly embroidered and knitted them all. Any bad look has been met by Feanor's death glare of "accept my beloved mother's gift or die painfully" and every year they are a must have, especially if the party is at Feanor's house.

So far this is what I have.

Ofc Feanor has the Silmarils surrounded by snowflakes, deers and red robins. His jumper is red. Maedhros has got a green one with winter gnomes and a "happy yuletide" in elegant lettering. Fingon has a blue one with an icy mountain and penguins with silver scarves and hats. Also if Mae has a green one with gnomes, then I envision Fingon with the same but in yellow/golden, but do feel free to envision whatever :p Celegorm has one with like a poodle with a christmas hat and scarf, the poodle looking very much like Huan. Maglor has one with like hollys and singing red robins. Caranthir has one with xmas trees all over. A&A have matching ones, both with snowmen wearing sunglasses and like a cheeky line. Curufin has one designed to show the jacket of a xmas elf and celebrimbor has one with the design of the ribbon of a xmas present.

There will be more as soon as I think of something else.

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

Last Updated: 2024-02-04

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite BBC!Sherlock Holmes stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning

✑ Limerence by galactic-academia • 〔F〕 •

Summary: Five times Sherlock's entourage thought it was the most foolish, awkward friendship in all History, and once Sherlock made it clear that was wrong.

✑ Make Me￨Prt. II￨Prt. III by make-me-imagine • 〔F〕 •

❆ A Night at the Opera by french-vanilla-in-the-clouds • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "It's Christmas Eve on 221B Baker Street, and though everyone is celebrating at the flat, [you leave] the party early after receiving a mysterious text from Sherlock."

❆ Christmas by bitternessismyname • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "You love Christmas and want yours and Sherlock's first [Christmas as a couple] to be special; [however, your boyfriend insists on] being a Grinch."

❆ Christmas Party, the by prettyxlittlexwriter • 〔F〕 •

Summary: After your blows you off, Sherlock offers to escort to your office Christmas Party. As it happens the detective is an excellent date.

✑ Cookie Fail, the by imagine-by-susu • 〔F〕 •

❆ Darling It's Cold Outside by starks-hero • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "A snowstorm falls over London and you're left trapped at 221B with Sherlock. It doesn't sound all that bad, but keeping Sherlock entertained poses as a challenge."

❆ Holmes' Home by generallynerdy • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "A drunk Sherlock had the genius idea of taking you, his girlfriend, to the infamous Holmes home for Christmas."

❆ Making Time by prettyxlittlexwriter • 〔F〕 •

Summary: {…}

❆ Merry Christmas Sherlock by writingliv • 〔F᜶A〕 •

Summary: "Sherlock craves your attention and a bet may just do the trick."

❆ Mistletoe by lykaonimagines • 〔F᜶C〕 •

Summary: "When an argument finds Sherlock and [you] under [the] mistletoe… in the center of Scotland Yard, [you take] the moment to spite Anderson... and maybe for some other reasons too."

❆ Mistletoe Test, the by frostandflamesfanfic • 〔E᜶F᜶A〕 •

Summary: "It's your first Christmas at Baker Street and you're determined to make it the best one ever. When [John] tries to warn you about [Sherlock's] aversion to the holidays, you start to see a whole new side to the consulting detective. Will it affect your friendship?"

✑ Rest of Our Lives￨Prt. II by lykaonimagines • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: Sherlock returns home late after a week long case, and contemplates the current state of their relationship.

❆ Shopping Sherlock by spilledkauffie • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Sherlock realises he may have met his match… in Christmas shopping by his fiancé until he finds the perfect gift."

❆ Snow Angels by make-me-imagine • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: It's the first snow and you drag Sherlock outside to play in the snow with you.

❆ Where Are the Mistletoe? by pinkthink • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Although your relationship with Sherlock is still relatively new and he still has a lot to learn about how people interact with one another, the two of you are beginning to understand each other better, even if Sherlock did believe that he should attach mistletoes so that he could kiss you whenever he wanted."

❆ A Case of Mistletoe & Presents by bakerstreethound • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ A Thousand Wishes by bakerstreethound • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Can I Hold Your Hand? by geeks-universe • 〔F〕 •

❆ Cuddles and Unruly Curls by bakerstreethound • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Cute Together by writings-of-a-british-fangirl • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ First Snow of December by writings-of-a-british-fangirl • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Sidewalks of London by french-vanilla-in-the-clouds • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Surprise Presents by dyns33 • 〔F〕 •

❆ Winter Wonderland by bakerstreethound • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Drinking Sherlock's Spiked Punch… by theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Christmas at 221B Baker St… by strrvnge • 〔F〕 •

❆ Christmas Shopping w/ Sherlock… by geeks-universe • 〔F〕 •

See Also: Navigation || BBC!Sherlock Master Index

Authors: @bakerstreethound || @bitternessismyname || @dyns33 || @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds || @frostandflamesfanfic || @galactic-academia || @geeks-universe || @generallynerdy || @imagine-by-susu || @lykaonimagines || @make-me-imagine || @pinkthick || @prettyxlittlexwriter || @spilledkauffie || @starks-hero || @strrvnge || @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction || @writingliv || @writings-of-a-british-fangirl ||

[accordionsrule]

A few thoughts about grinch behavior, now that Christmas is over and I won't bum anyone out by sharing them.

Contrary to popular belief, I enjoy Christmas. I enjoy spending time with family, exchanging gifts, and having a big meal. However, I tend to get cranky and misanthropic for the entire month of December these days, because I am just exhausted by Christmas-as-an-institution.

Obviously the biggest part is the utter stranglehold it has on our culture - the fact that Christmas music, ads, and decorations are utterly inescapable. There's also the ties that these all have to capitalism; that a big part of the pervasiveness is designed to make you buy stuff. There's also the fact that, as secular as it is possible to make the holiday, its inescapablity speaks to the Christian hegemony in this culture, and ooh boy am I fed up with Christian America at this point in history.

But most of all, and this is the part that I think a lot of people have trouble with: you're not allowed to not like it.

There are literally dozens of new films pumped out every year where either the antagonist doesn't enjoy or 'believe in' Christmas (and thats why they are clearly bad), or the protagonist needs to learn to love it. If you mention that you hate Christmas music (which I do, fervently), people are fully unable to accept this about you and will try to pitch you on songs or genres of it that you will like. There is an attitude of enforced cheer that not only can you not criticize (fair; don't yuck someone else's yum, that's not cool), but you are expected to actively participate in. The idea that you can dislike the holiday, or like the holiday but dislike the trappings around it, is not only unfathomable but marks you as 'someone broken who needs to be fixed'. And that's exhausting, fam.

So idk, merry belated Christmas to you all. I actually had a good one this year, and genuinely hope that you all enjoyed the holiday in whatever way you like doing. But please spare a thought, this year and the next, for the people who don't enjoy all the trappings; who hear the first ominous jingle and think darkly "so it begins". And if they tell you that they don't enjoy the holiday season, maybe instead of trying to find a spin on it in hopes that their heart will grow three sizes and they will carve the roast beast this year, listen to them instead and let them like and dislike the things they like and dislike. Just a thought.

[theflyingpimphat]

10 bad romance tropes

Ah yes, how to best celebrate the holiday of love by grinching it up. Now, what exactly does someone who doesn’t read or watch romance and mostly gets annoyed by the romantic subplots has to say on this matter? Well, unfortunately, romance is present almost everywhere in the form of said subplots and since I am pretty disinterested in the romance itself, maybe the focus on the other things that come with it like the characters’ personality or development might provide some insights past the heart eyes.

First, a few disclaimers:

-This is highly opinionated. It is not directed against you. If you genuinely like these tropes and enjoy exploring them in the safe environment of media, that is perfectly fine, as regardless of how strong my opinions on these tropes are, policing harmless interests is worse.

-To illustrate the tropes, I’ll use the names “Alice” and “Bob” as examples. However, the tropes also apply to Alice and Beate, Alan and Bob, or Ay:liss and Bo'orrb. It also applies if you switch the names around.

Rest under the cut to save you the scrolling if you're not interested.

Romanticised abuse

Bob stalks Alice, discourages her from going out with her friends and sometimes locks her in his basement, but it's all because of how much he luuuurves her and is concerned with ther safety! Sooo romantic!

Why is this bad?

-There is romance, and there is abuse. At worst case, someone who had gone through the abuse that is being romanticized will be put off by the story, or someone young and inexperienced could take the wrong lessons from it and either pursue relationships with shitheads that will abuse them or land in an abusive relationship and not see it for what it is.

What would be better?

-Depict the abuse as abuse. Yes, sometimes people will explain away their abuse as love, but there is a difference between a character's opinion and the message the story itself conveys.

2. Massive power imbalance

Alice is a billionaire, has bought up half the city, is a martial arts professional, an expert gunfighter, has five PhDs and on top of that, she's an archvampire who can rip a man apart with no effort. Bob is an ordinary man who dropped out of school, gets winded when he has to go up the stairs of more than two floors and is her janitor.

Why is this bad?

-Mind you, such relationships can be written well, but if the power imbalance is large, you will always wonder if the weaker party actually consents to the stronger party's actions or only agrees to them out of fear for the repercussions a denial might result in.

What would be better?

-Balance it out or make the consent between the two parties clear by letting them talk about it regularly.

3. Relationship is mainly detrimental for one of the characters

Alice is a bumbling idiot who constantly lands herself in trouble and needs Bob to save and protect her. Alternatively, Bob is a deadbeat who loads off all the housework to Alice and she barely has time for herself because of it.

Why is this bad?

-Ask yourself: would the character be happier if they had a blow-up doll with their significant other's face printed on it instead of their actual partner? If yes, maybe their relationship sucks.

What would be better?

-Make the characters mutually benefit from each other. And no, "but they really luuurve each other" or "the seggs is sooo amazing" doesn't count.

4. No common interests, just romance

Alice loves Bob. Bob loves Alice. That's all you can say about them.

Why is this bad?

-A relationship like that would be just smooching and maybe screwing. It would have no other substance. You would ask yourself: but why do they love each other?

What would be better?

-Let them have common interests, hobbies they do together, just any activities that aren't tied to showing how powerful, loving or fuckable the character is.

5. Enemies to lovers

Alice and Bob repeatedly attempted to kill each other at the start and there was a mutual hate between them, but their attempts to kill each other got them both so horny that they are getting married next week.

There, I said it. Bring out the torches and pitchforks, but I just find this trope terrible. From my own experience, every "friend" with whom I have started out on poor terms turned out to be a massive backstabber, so I won't buy such a romance as genuine.

Why is this bad?

-Who is to say they are lovers now and not just pretending, so they can strike when the other is most vulnerable? And how solid is their relationship, how big is the chance that one will betray the other at the next best opportunity?

What would be better?

-Build them up as rivals on friendly terms, or make their animosity non-personal.

6. Love at first sight, too-fast progress

Alice and Bob met in the morning and want to marry on afternoon. Both swear the other one is the love of their life.

Why is this bad?

-It shoehorns the characters into a relationship without building it up properly. This is especially egregious in movies, where all events have to happen in the span of a single day.

What would be better?

-Give them time together to develop their relationship properly. Alternatively, have them already be in a relationship and let them work through some tension.

7. "I can fix him"

Bob drinks, screams at and insults his employees, has driven his mother to suicide and is overally a piece of shit. Alice still pursues a relationship with him because she thinks that with her love and care, she can transform Bob into a nice, caring man.

Why is this bad?

-A terrible personality needs much more than the love of a partner to change, and even then, change is not guaranteed. And certainly, a relationship isn't worth one's mistreatment or mental exhaustion.

What would be better?

-Get the fucker into therapy instead.

8. Relationship built on looks

Bob is tall and has the physique of a Greek god. Alice has hair like gold and humongous boobs. Those are the main reasons they're together.

Why is this bad?

-While a perfectly fine reason for a one-night-stand or a temporary fling, looks alone won't let them stay together; it will be certainly over when they age at the latest, earlier if one of them gets disfigured by disease or an accident.

What would be better?

-Maybe they approached each other because they liked the other's appearance, but once that is done, they will have to start sharing interests and match their personality traits.

9. Predatory relationship

Alice can't stop thinking about Bob. Specifically, how much she wants to rip the flesh off his bones, crack open his bones to suck out the marrow and to lick his blood off her hands afterwards.

Why is this bad?

-It's creepy as fuck. Even if this is used as an example of how one character has to fight their urges and control themselves out of the luuurve they feel for their significant other, constantly reading or seeing how much they want to kill/eat/rape their partner is pretty offputting. Maybe they would be better off with a lubed-up sandwich they can fuck instead.

What would be better?

-Avoid it, or at least tone it down.

10. Love interest with no personality

Bob has a tense relationship with his family, loves his two dogs, enjoys building plane models and reading books about foreign cultures in his free time. His personality is slightly reserved towards strangers but he is very friendly and reliable to those he is familiar with.

Alice loves Bob. Her personality is her loving Bob.

Why is this bad?

-One of the characters gets written as a glorified sex toy and is nothing but an accessory of the other.

What would be better?

-Give both parties a personality and use those to deduct their relationship's dynamic.

Bonus: Babies ever after

I'm sorry, but having a smelly, slobbery, squalling shit factory to look after is the least romantic or sexy thing. Put that stuff at the end of the exploration of their relationship. Or have it pick up once again when the progeny starts resembling a person rather than a demon that feeds on attention.

[x-heesy]

PHUCҜ ΨΣΔH ITΔLIΔΠ RΔP

Happy f- holidays, merry m- Christmas

December 25th, we are on alert

Still the anxiety rising, hey

I smoke like it's legal, hey

Tell me if anyone is normal

In Area 51, bro, there's Santa Claus, wow

Put the record on and you're dead, you wait for this piece more than the risen Christ

In my house the crucifix is ​​a memory

Son of God, I prefer abortion

I think I go to Mc, I put on a happy face like Arthur Fleck

I make a massacre if, again this year Michael Bublé sings on Italia 1

I smoke but don't mind it

There is the nativity scene that gives me a round of applause

People go where their noses take them

Especially if it is Pippo Baudo's

I ride with the revocation, eh

Widow type noise, huh

Christmas is upon us

Jehovah's Witness

If it gets me that bad

Maybe, maybe it will be Christmas

Even though it all seems the same to me

Every time I think about it I get Charles Manson, eh

I think I'm late today too, eh

I'm not on time for dinner

You know what the fuck I care about gifts

Or to see some stupid aunt

I hate Christmas like the Grinch, mh

'This flow kills you, it gives lessons, mh

I enter a cinepanettone, mh

With a shotgun, mh

New Year's Eve with a bang

I'm crazy, now I'm going to explode

I'm under your girlfriend's tree, I give her my cock with a bow

Hey, Santa Claus

Except one day a year he's just an old drunk

This year I made money and I will ask baby Jesus

What does he want as a gift, like Briatore

Well done, clown sings

All red bro, like Santa Claus

You who are around me, because you want a follow

I'll give you the likes, I'm Santa Cloud

I see you sad, maybe it's because you're not on Salmo's album

And if Santa Claus exists, I'm not the rapper of the year

If it gets me that bad

Maybe, maybe it will be Christmas

Even though it all seems the same to me

Every time I think about it I get Charles Manson

Nice gun, what does it shoot? Balls?

Better not be a tree, because he has more balls

When I come in, everyone goes, "Wow."

Between 'if I call God, he answers me: "Woof"

I don't give a shit, but at least

I always destroy myself when I have dinner

I ate a pandoro with Morgan

There was only icing sugar

Christmas makes you fat as shit

And waste the food we need

I don't pray to an angel, I'm not in Bethlehem

I don't envy the tree because it's broke

I'm sorry if you were alarmed

But you are as out of place as someone who goes on the subway and shouts: "Allah" with a gun

What a bomb of a gift

Your girlfriend, boar

Always eating

He's not Santa Claus

But such a big oaf

If it hurts me so much

Maybe, maybe it will be Christmas

Even though it all seems the same to me

Every time I think about it I get Charles Manson

They already ask me what I do on New Year's Eve

I wonder what I'll do on New Year's Eve

You didn't see us in your club, you're blind

Dinner at Mc, Jesus Crispy McBacon, huh

And at dinner with the relatives, mh

I introduce myself and take my leave, mh

"When are you going to give us the little ones?" (Eh)

I answer: "When I defrost them" (Wow)

I have a recurring dream that attracts me

Convince the Vanzinas to film Christmas in Syria

So perhaps we can see what is happening in Palestine

And on opening day, I shoot myself in the mouth in the front row

Merry Christmas, assholes

With my brains on De Sica and Boldi

We are as empty as your drunken talk

Give each other gifts, not our business, it's better if you leave

Fuck off kindly

The difference is there and you can feel it

I am always fresh, evergreen

You are always cool, always green

I'm going to shout "Happy New Year" at an Easter lunch

I already know it's in Santa's sack

Another great album from a talent dad

Happy f- holidays, merry m- Christmas

December 25th, we are on alert

Happy f- holidays, merry m- Christmas

December 25th, we are on alert 🚨

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙻𝙴𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽 (𝙱𝚄𝙾𝙽 𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙴2) (𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝. 𝙻𝚊𝚣𝚣𝚊) 𝚋𝚢 𝚂𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘, 𝙳𝚊𝚗𝚒 𝙵𝚊𝚒𝚟, 𝙽𝚒𝚝𝚛𝚘 v7

@ombrabrontok @len0r @luna---zylum @bigbonzo @boanerges20

[skzhocomments]

I can read your smile - Choi Minho SHINee Fanfic - Chapter 18 - Christmas Eve

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

Wattpad | AO3

Chapter 17 | Chapter 19

---

Chapter 18 - Christmas Eve

word count: 3.4k words

~Christmas Eve~

~Crystal's POV~

24th of December. If you open the TV on any channel, you would either see Home Alone, Grinch, The Nightmare Before Christmas or whatever other Christmas movie with "Miracle" in the title and with a lot of green, red or blue in its cover.

I didn't dislike these movies per-se, but they did make me feel bittersweet. Christmas was a nice holiday, but how can I enjoy it when I'm once again spending it on my own?

Instead of wasting away on the sofa, I decided to do something I haven't done in a while, which is go to the gym in the apartment complex.

I changed into sports clothes and made my way downstairs.

Damn, Minho would be proud of me.

That thought made me chuckle a bit, and I pondered on whether I should text him or not. I decided against it.

Opening the door to the reception, a nice lady with blonde hair and a perfect silhouette welcomed me.

"The apartment number, please?" She smiled, and I told her. "Oh, I see there's two memberships under the name Choi Minho. Is that right?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Then you must be..."

"Crystal Kang."

"Right." She smiled sweetly. "I see Mr. Choi hasn't extended the memberships for next month yet. Would you like me to extend them for you now? Since it's Christmas time, we have a bit of a discount. Nothing much, 5% off, but you might be interested."

Huh?

Didn't Minho say that if you live in this building...

"How much are the memberships again?" I asked with a smile.

"You've been paying 200$ for the two memberships up until now, but if you renew today, you would get them both at 190$. Again, it's not much, but..."

"I see. Thank you for the information. I will talk to my friend and let you know." I smiled, then entered the gym.

He's been paying for my membership for the past 6 months or so, 100$ per month.

Almost my whole rent.

Fucking hell, Minho.

I sighed and went on the treadmill, trying to run away from my thoughts.

After my intense 30-minute running session, I made my way upstairs, took a long shower, then made something to eat.

5 PM.

Time is moving so slow when you're alone.

Maybe I should've gone to work today.

I laid down on the couch and looked around the room, at the Christmas tree. Minho's gift sat untouched underneath, and it will stay that way until after New Years' Eve, when he comes back, and I'll give it to him.

Maybe I shouldn't have put it there.

Of course, there was nothing for me under the tree, because I was all alone, and Santa wasn't real.

Turning on the TV only made me more depressed, because all the films were about happy families, happy moments, happy endings. It was getting tiring to see the same shit over and over again.

It didn't make me happy. On the contrary, actually.

Barely 5 PM.

I sighed and covered myself with the fluffy blanket I brought from my room. Despite it being warm, I felt so cold, that I covered my whole body with it and went in the fetal position, hugging the blanket around myself tightly.

Fuck.

I am feeling so lonely.

I shouldn't be crying.

It's not the first time I'm spending Christmas on my own.

But why...?

Why does this house feel so big?

I'm so sad.

Why am I so alone?

It's always been this way with me.

I am so utterly alone.

It hurts so bad.

Tears continued streaming down my face with no control, and I just sobbed and sobbed, until the crying made me too tired, and I fell into a deep slumber.

~Third person POV~

"Crystal, wake up." Minho nudged the sleeping girl awake and she opened her eyes slowly, confusion plastered over her face. He's been looking at her for a while, and frowned upon seeing her puffy eyes.

She must've been crying.

"Huh...? Minho...? I must be dreaming." She concluded, then closed her eyes again and tried to go back to sleep.

"You're not. Wake up." He nudged her again with a chuckle.

"Hm?" She opened her eyes, confused, and it finally set in that she was, in fact, awake. "What are you doing here?" She asked, almost in a whisper, raising herself from the sofa in a sitting position.

"I came to check if Santa brought me anything, of course. I see he brought you a lot of presents. You must've been good this year." Minho smiled and looked at the tree, making Crystal turn her head towards it as well.

"Huh...?" She asked, confused, noticing that there were indeed about 10 bags under the tree. "What..."

"Come, don't you want to open them?" Minho grabbed her hand and helped her stand up, dragging her towards the tree as the blanket fell from her body back on the sofa.

They went together to the tree and sat down next to it, and Crystal grabbed the bags one after another, opening them and pulling out the contents.

Some of them had clothes; there were a few sundresses, two sweaters, a bracelet and necklace jewellery set and some face creams and make-up.

"So, what do you think?" Minho's eyes sparkled with excitement.

"There's so many!" Crystal said. "Now I feel bad, I only got you this." She grabbed the bag with his gift – a sweater she really liked that she thought would look great on him – and gave it to him.

"Thanks!" He said, still excited, taking it out and examining it.

"I'm sorry, it's not much, but-"

"It's perfect. I love this colour so much. I'm gonna wear it tomorrow at the family lunch."

"Thank you." Crystal hugged him, taking him by surprise, and he hugged her back.

She was glad he was here, and she didn't spend the day completely alone, even if he would go back soon.

"You forgot to open one, though..." Minho pointed to a small gift bag that was left there, neglected.

"Oh, I must've not seen it. You got me too many." She chuckled and grabbed the small bag, opening it. Inside, there was a box swiftly wrapped in brown paper, with a red ribbon on top. "What is it?"

"Open it and check." He grinned, and she obliged, ripping the paper and seeing the box; it was a new phone, the latest model.

"Minho, what the-"

"Your phone is still broken, and you haven't gotten a new one yet, so I thought-"

"You're fucking crazy." She shook her head in disbelief. "This is really expensive. I really can't-"

"Take a shot every time Crystal says 'I can't accept it'!"

"What?!" She scoffed then burst out laughing.

"I'm serious. We'd be drunk all the time if we played this game." He mocked her a bit more, and she playfully slapped his arm.

"What am I supposed to do with this? My phone still works!" She protested and frowned.

"Yea, your phone whose screen is literally falling apart still works perfectly, as new!" He chuckled and grabbed her phone, taking off the protection foil from the screen - quite literally the only thing that was keeping the multiple broken pieces of the screen together in their rightful position. He then turned the phone upside down, and small bits of the screen fell off, and Crystal watched in horror.

"But..." she started, but she was left speechless. He won this one.

"If you don't want the phone, sell it or something. It's yours." He shrugged.

"You're crazy." She shook her head again, realising this would go nowhere, and she opened the box, taking the phone out and placing her SIM card inside.

It was as he said when they met: once he sets his mind on something, it's unlikely you'll get him to change it. And this time, even if she didn't want to admit it, he was right. She needed this phone, as hers wouldn't hold on much longer anyway, even without Minho's painful display of showing her how easily the broken bits would start falling out.

Minho watched satisfied as she turned on the phone and configured it, and when she was finally done, she asked him "Happy?", and he just nodded with a large smile on his face.

"Yes, very! Thank me again." He grinned.

"Woah!" Crystal scoffed. "Do you want a kiss on the cheek too?"

"Yes, right here!" He turned his left cheek to her and tapped on it a few times, and Crystal said fuck it, and grabbed his face and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you." She chuckled, noticing his flustered state. It was obvious he didn't actually expect her to kiss him, and he was quite cute.

"Okay, now that you opened the gifts, you have to go get changed." Minho changed the subject quickly, his fingertips still inspecting the skin her lips touched.

"Get changed?" She tilted her head. "Why?"

"My family is waiting for us. We have to hurry up, or else the chicken would get cold."

"Wait... what?"

"We're going to a Christmas dinner, silly."

"We? But... why?"

"Because I want you to come." Minho shrugged. "Now go get changed!"

"Okay..." Crystal stood up and went to her room, putting on some comfortable clothes. She wasn't sure exactly why Minho came to get her, but she started feeling excited, nonetheless. She's never been to a family dinner before.

She wondered what his family was like. Were they as nice as him? Did he have many siblings? She realised she's never asked him this before.

"Ready?" He smiled upon seeing her.

"Yes, but we have to go to the supermarket first. Is that okay?"

Minho nodded and they exited the building together, going to the supermarket in their complex. There, Crystal grabbed a small basket and filled it with Belgian chocolate.

"What is this for?" He asked, perplexed.

"Your family, of course. I can't go empty handed, and you can't go wrong with chocolate. This is my favourite."

"Is it? I've never seen you eat it though."

"That's because it's expensive, so I don't buy it on the daily basis." Crystal chuckled. "Should I get them anything else? Like... wine, or something? I don't know!"

"Don't stress it, Crys, they don't expect you to come by with anything."

"But is it really okay if I come? I mean, it's your family and I don't want to intrude-"

"They are quite excited for you to come, actually. Especially my brother's wife. She said family dinners always feel lonely because there's no one her age to talk to." He laughed.

"I see..." Crystal looked down in the basket, and then at the shelf. She picked one more box of chocolates, just for good measure, and they went to the checkout to pay.

Minho pulled out his wallet quickly, but Crystal already started intercepting his thoughts, and she was quicker. It was her gift for his family. She put her hand over his wallet and handed the cashier her card with a smile, and Minho grabbed the hem of her sleeve and dragged it with a pout.

"Let me pay-"

"Don't even start. I wanna rip your ear off about the gym membership anyway." She looked at him with squinted eyes, and he avoided her cold gaze.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Let's go!"

~

Minho's family house was a fairly large white picket fence house, just as the ones she's seen in Taemin's grandparents' villa town. All sorts of Christmas decorations made it literally sparkle in all the colours of the rainbow, and there was a big Christmas Tree on the front porch.

"You both made it! You must be Crystal!" A middle-aged woman with dark hair smiled brightly upon seeing them come in, and came and hugged Crystal tightly. "I'm Minho's mother"

"Hello. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Choi." She spoke and smiled, letting the woman look her up and down. "This is for you. I'm sorry, I would've brought something more if I knew-"

"It's okay, love, we are just happy you're joining us." She grabbed the gift bag with chocolates and rubbed Crystal's arm lovingly. "Now, let's go to the dining room! Everyone was waiting for you two."

They both took their shoes off and Minho smiled at her assuringly, guiding her towards the dining. It was a spacious room with a big dinner table that had all sorts of foods on it, and it was full of family members of all ages, from kids to older people with white hair.

Minho introduced Crystal to everyone and helped her sit down, and then everyone started talking to her and placing all sorts of foods on her plate, wanting her to feel at home and eat as much as possible. Minho couldn't help but chuckle slightly at her flustered state, and he grabbed her hand under the table soothingly, letting her know that she can relax, and that everything is okay.

She talked a lot to his brother's wife and his aunts, and ate so much food, she was sure she would explode.

Still, Crystal never felt so happy.

So this is what a family dinner looks like. She thought, glancing around the table with a smile on her face, trying to hold back her tears.

~

"So, Crystal, I heard from my nephew you're also studying business." Minho's uncle smiled at her, and she nodded. The chatter around the table quieted down, as the children went to sleep and some of the adults were cleaning around the kitchen. She tried to help too, but Minho's mother refused vehemently, and urged her to sit down at the dinner table and just relax and be a guest.

They've been talking about business-related things for more than an hour now, but Crystal just listened closely and hasn't joined in the conversation, not wanting to interrupt. She was always more of a listener, and in the span of an hour she found out that Minho's family owned a large business called Choi Enterprises that his grandfather founded, his uncle being the actual CEO. His father was not working in the company; he was a famous football coach, which explained Minho's passion for football, and Minho was studying business because, despite his interest for football, he and his brother were supposed to take after the business in a few years when his uncle would retire.

After Minho's older brother and wife left the table, only him, Crystal and Mr. Choi, Minho's uncle, remained in the dimly lit room. He seemed like a stern man, but his eyes held warmth towards his family.

"Yes, that's right. I've just started the 3rd year." Crystal replied with a sweet smile.

"You have a long way to go." He smiled. "Business is tricky."

"Indeed." She affirmed and nodded.

"Let me ask you something. It's a riddle. If you have three, you have three. If you have two, you have two. But if you have one, you have none. What is it?" He asked, amused, and Minho shot her a curious glance as well.

Crystal pondered on the answer for a bit, rubbing her chin with her fingers.

"Choices." She replied after a few seconds, much to Mr. Choi's delight.

"You're clever." He grinned. "Okay... one more question. One of my employees made a harsh mistake that cost us a lot of money. Let's say, someone's salary for a whole year. Should I fire him?"

"That's more of a management question, isn't it?" Crystal smiled.

"Good management is part of any successful business."

"That's correct."

"So?"

"Of course, this is dependent on more factors, including their performance up until that point and what kind of mistake they've made, but personally I wouldn't fire that employee."

"Why not?" He raised a brow questioningly.

"Because they will never make that mistake again. Someone new might."

"I see... that's an interesting take." Mr. Choi smirked.

"Did you fire them?" Crystal asked, curiosity lacing her tone.

"No. I had the same thoughts as you, and indeed, he hasn't made any mistakes since. He's proven to be a valuable employee."

"That's great. I'm glad it worked out in the end."

"Crystal, dear, what's your biggest weakness?"

"Oh, I'm definitely a perfectionist who doesn't know when to stop." She chuckled.

"Minho, you picked a good one." Mr. Choi stood up from his chair and looked at Crystal. "Apply for a summer internship at our company as an assistant manager. You might just be the right fit." He winked, and with that, he retreated to his room.

Crystal looked at Minho, who looked back at her shocked. He knew she was smart, he just didn't expect her to impress his uncle enough for him to offer her a job.

"So... we should go to sleep too. I'll take you back home tomorrow." Minho stood up and offered her his hand in support. "Sorry, but the whole house's full, so we'd have to sleep in my room... I can sleep on the floor if you're uncomfortable."

"Don't be silly." She chuckled. "We slept many times next to each other."

They went to his bedroom and Minho gave Crystal some clothes to change into. They were a bit too large for her, but they were his, and they smelled just like him, and her heart started beating faster.

She sat down on the bed and waited for him to come back, her heart ringing in her ears. She felt emotional, but most importantly, she felt happy, and he was the main reason for it.

"Thank you so much for today." She smiled as he sat down in front of her. "I've never... had a family dinner like this before. Your family is very sweet, and I had a great time."

"I'm glad you came." He returned her smile.

"Why did you come and get me?"

"Just... you being home on your own on Christmas Eve didn't sit right with me..." He briefly looked away, and she felt her eyes swell up with tears. Why the fuck was he always so thoughtful?

"Thank you. For everything." She leaned in and hugged him, and his arms surrounded her body, dragging her closer, until she ended up in his lap.

They stayed like that for a little while, their hearts beating in unison, and then Minho moved his head a bit away, looking at Crystal.

How beautiful she was like that, in his clothes, with her big dark eyes looking directly into his.

He would be stupid if he let her go again, so he cupped her cheek with his left hand and glanced at her beautiful lips.

The air was stuffy and hot, and he wanted nothing more but to kiss her. He wanted to give in and feel her lips against his, to tell her how beautiful she was, and that he's been in love with her for months now, that he rejected her because he was stupid, and that he's regretted it ever since. He wanted to tell her that she's been occupying his mind all the time, that ever since he left he's been wondering if she ate enough, if she was sleeping well, if work's been difficult.

She wanted to tell him how confused she was once again, because she thought he brought her over as a friend, but now she was in his lap, which must've been the most comfortable place on Earth, and her feelings were all over the place once again, because she's been trying to get rid of her feelings, but they would just come back stronger each time he would do something thoughtful for her.

Instead, they just looked in each other's eyes and tried to understand the other between their unspoken words.

They've both been waiting for the other to say something, and just when Minho gathered enough courage to close the distance between them, a knock on the door pulled them out of their trance, and the moment was gone as quickly as it came.

His mother wanted to check if they had enough pillows and blankets, if Crystal was comfortable, and if there was anything else she could do for them before they went to sleep.

~

The next morning, Crystal had breakfast with Minho's family, and they all opened presents together and ate the chocolates she brought.

Minho then took her home at her request, as she didn't want to intrude any more than she already had and she would have to get back to work soon anyway, and they both pondered on talking about last night, but still, it just didn't feel right for some reason, so neither said anything.

They hugged goodbye in the car and smiled at each other, and Minho told her he's going to come home after New Year's Eve, because training would resume on January 3rd, since the game itself would be on January 15th.

He was going to have a busy time.

---

Chapter 17 | Chapter 19

[daisychainsandbowties]

weird ask meme 4 24 46 and 49!

4. which cryptid being do you believe in? (in my heart it's spelled like that)

i don’t think i actually believe in any cryptid specifically maybe i am too domesticated BUT… i do believe in ghosts! or at least i’m willing to believe in them as near as makes no difference.

i believe that spaces & people are haunted, in general, whether it’s a function of our relationship to time (Aristotle pls call me back) or some mechanism of our psyche but i don't feel any dissonance in thinking that something is non-verifiable and also possible. i think (and love) that we know a fraction of an inch of basically nothing about the fundamental nature of the universe.

& LOOk i did too much philosophy in uni so i lowkey believe that what occurs phenomenologically is as real as is reasonably verifiable, & therefore if it happens with all other things being equal (it is not a symptom of something ELSE) then phenomena are real enough for me.

smth smth the inherent unverifiability of Things In Themselves because all experience is fed through the meat-grinder of human perception.

so yeah, mostly the ghosts i’ve actually felt haunted by are animals - my little cat Delta for example - it’s not as though i’ve SEEN him because i have not but he IS to me a bright orange spirit who lurks at night under the bushes in the impenetrable wildness of the country road a few dozen steps from my house.

& i consider myself a rationalist most of the time about perceptions - as in, i like the counter-argument to the claim that we cannot be certain of the veracity of our ordinary perceptions which goes 'oh but you will walk across the room without fearing that the floor will become unreal, because you must.' all philosophers must eventually genuflect to the need to exist physically, whatever their stance on idealism.

that’s a good enough proof for me, actually, because it is ‘enough to be getting on with’ as in it allows us to exist, believing that one thing follows another, in the necessary connection between a cause and its effect. but there is room to say that, if we trust our perceptions, then we can within reason trust the stranger ones. 

24. if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

if we were on a rooftop we’d be having the BEST conversation in the world like bestie if nobody gets me you got me i still remember absolutely CRYING at your first comment on ligaments. i read it about 50 times & you just got every single thing i was trying to say and not only that you twisted it and turned it back and Broadened The Thought & made me astonished by the meaning of my own creation which is !!! the best feeling.

so yes you would have some hot/ lukewarm drink and i would have a silly energy drink and it would be quite reminiscent of the School of Athens. just the most enlightening conversation in the history of the world. 

46. favourite holiday film?

oh thE GRINCH. the live-action one with whoever his face is. i was literally just thinking about it five minutes ago at the absolute end of spring even tho it’s a winter movie (because em is torturing me again & there’s a very good line from the Grinch where he goes “FETCH ME MY SEDATIVE”) like damn. that movie is so bad, but it’s also so good. like just!!! scathing condemnation of commercialism, narrated by the og hannibal lecter (forget his name), the scene where he just shaves the mayor’s hair off which i think about every two weeks when i have to cut my own hair with my unpredictable and overexcitable razor. YEAH it’s my fav i love it so. 

49. can you skip rocks?

absolutely not! for a person who lives on an island i was not made for things that require hand-eye co-ordination. also i think you need at least three muscles to be skipping stones, and i have less than one. i think you need like torque and marriage of gravity and a lil bit of strength behind the throw to make it skip. my only solace is that beatrice warrior nun is also tragically terrible at skipping rocks. i am VERY good at picking out the right kind of rock for other people though. i am, in general, probably the most talented out of all my abilities at picking up nice rocks on the beach and getting stung by jellyfish. 

[queennicoleinboots]

Kirby's Recurring Nightmare, part 1

A/N: Christmas holiday drama at its finest for the fifth year in a row, narrated by Jim Cummings, the voice actor for the Robotnik in the 1993 Sonic the Hedgehog cartoon

Around November and December of every year, Kirby has a horrible nightmare about bad food, family drama, and stupid bullshit.

King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear was the first bear to scream this year. He was dehydrated and ate a nastyass rotisserie chicken. "What the fuck happened?!" he shouted.

"They froze that chicken for 30 years," I said.

"Uuuugghhh! Uuuuuugggghhhh! Uyuuuuhgggh!" King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear muttered as he was shuddering. He drank water. "Oh God! I have to get that taste out of my mouth." He continued to drink that jug of water like it was a pot of honey.

Pooh Bear, my son, was eating honey out of the honey comb like it was a water jug.

Tigger bounced around again. "Hoohoohoohoo!" he shouted.

The happy go-lucky King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear was in his tree and peeing from a branch. Most of his urine landed on Tigger.

"GEE! I'm getting p-p-pissedth on AGAIN!!!" Tigger shouted as he bounced out of the way.

Riley from The Boondocks walked out of the tree and said, "If you don't want to get pissed on, just move out the way."

Whoopie Goldberg then walked out of her billion-dollar mansion and saw the madness. "Maybe this is why you don't drop acid when you first get out of bed," she said.

Robotnik's theme song started to play in the background before Robotnik himself arrived at the scene with his goofy walk: https://youtu.be/Tx-oMRYpH4U?si=4Lsi-rzakjGabPSg. He exploded.

"Babylon HAS NOT GOTTEN UP yet!" he announced from the pit of ashes that was formerly his body.

"Good to know, Robotnik. Thank you," King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear said with laughter.

The Rock Fish in the Mississippi River was a complete self-centered, self-important, self-righteous asshole with no concept of how to be thankful for anything. He was 59 years old and 12 feet long and still hadn't grown up or learned much of anything. That's where being a Neanderthal who takes testosterone and eats 40,000 calories a day gets you. He isn't any different from the rest of his Neanderthal family, really. In fact, he's worse because he had plenty of time to know better. Plus, he used to eat raccoons on purpose.

Sure I felt bad for his head being a rock, but Kings Chocolate-covered Gummy Bears, Nicole Blunt, Donald Trump, Kamala Harris, Patches and her twin, King Bruce Ace, Queen Megara Ace, and I had been cooking Thanksgiving dinners for him for six days now. He could have focused on what we were doing for him instead of his own self-centered, self-important, self-righteous giant head. It was his own fault anyway. "No Sleep Till Brooklyn" is still a dumb way to live. How about taking a few herbs, drinking carp and red, red wine, and actually sleeping?! And I can't believe he needed to manifest a doctor to tell him the same thing I just did! I told him in more detail than the doctor/death dealer did. The Rock Fish continued to be a complete idiot.

I am sicker of dumbass people and dumbass holidays around me than ever. Even the Grinch was shocked at how little holiday spirit I have. So naturally I flipped the fuck out and threw a table at Kamala Harris and other random objects at strangers walking down the street. I even dropkicked a TV out of five-story apartment and yelled "Dotyyylllllllltrre" like Benson from Regular Show did after he listened to an anger management tape.

I told people seven years ago that I was sick of this damn shit. I cussed my mom the fuck out for six and a half years in a row before this year. This year, I refrained from cussing her out. I just told her she was right because I don't have the energy to tell her she inadvertently always proves my points.

Mr. Williamson, Ted the Alligator, and Jack the Crocodile joined the drama by bringing gluten-free and vegan dishes to Christmas dinner.

"Finally! Someone who understands my dietary restrictions!" Jaybird shouted before he squawked.

The cats named Patches hissed in stereo. Then they growled a song that the Grinch was moved by.

"Such a WONDERFUL sound!" the Grinch said dramatically.

This is what the fuck I gotta say to the Rock Fish:

"Well, I'm dropping off the food in YOUR REALITY. I don't have room in my reality for your stupid dumb fucking bullshit! AND I TOLD YOU THE SAME SHIT THAT DAMN DOCTOR/DEATH DEALER TOLD YOU BUT IN MORE DETAIL. YOU ARE REALLY PISSING ME OFF TODAY!

You are the most self-centered, self-important piece of rock shit I've ever fucking met in my fucking life!!!!!!! You're an asshole, Mr. Rock.

I am going out of my way to make a nice holiday for you, and you COMPLETELY ruined mine over your stupid fuckass head!

Get it together and learn to actually be thankful!!!! You're 59 years old and you're still clueless about what being THANKFUL is or what the word fucking means!"

This is what the fuck the Rock Fish gotta say:

"Wait a cotton-picking minute! When I woke up this morning, I found one of my quills in a stream of six miles of piss. I swam in it! That's what sent me into a different reality. Calm the fuck down; I'm back to this reality.

These holidays gave me a headache, stressed me the fuck out. Calm the fuck down.

I couldn't tell you how many times I've been called self-centered, self-important, and self-righteous, an asshole, monster, a foul one, and a heart with an empty hole. You forgot to mention self-absorbed." He laughed like PeeWee Herman.

"I'VE BEEN CALLED THOSE THINGS, TOO!!" the Grinch shouted.

The Kings Chocolate-covered Gummy Bears growled and shouted. "STUPID! Please eat and shut the fuck up both of you. This is what the fuck I gotta say: Fuck these pointless scruffles, number 1. Now that we got that out of the way. Number 2, I hate these God-forsaken holidays. Ten years ago, there was an epic battle with over-cooked flaxseed brownies. I hated those evil brownies, Mama Bear's malfunctioning oven, and my degenerate family. Every year, something fucked up happens. In 713 A.D., Mama Bear growled loud and walked the fuck out of the forest. We didn't see her until a month later, around Saint Nicholas's birthday. Number 3, All I want is for everyone to be thankful and shut the shut the shut the fuck up."

"GIVE ME A BREAK! GIVE ME A BREAK! BREAK ME OFF A PIECE OF SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!" I sang loudly.

The two cats named Patches meowed in slow motion. Their eyes were wide open, and their mouths were open for a minute/minute and a half. They meowed until my ears bled.

Angry King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear growled. "I'm never going this again! Stressed me out! Drove to the grocery store, took 30 separate trips for everyone, spent 7000 gold for you assholes to start squawking bullshit. Don't ask me to do anything again!" he screamed before he bleated.

He has done the same thing for the past six years. It all started in 2019 when Colonel America for America wanted an extravagant Thanksgiving feast for just Murphee the Ace of Munching, Gabby, King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear, himself, and me.

Cody howled loudly to Swahili singing like he does every year. The Hatari (762 A.D.) world joined us for Christmas.

"Oh fuck not this bad theatrical performance AGAIN!" Peter growled as he drank a shot of his Evan Williams and tried to manifest the Little Safari World from Toto's 'Africa'. "These holidays are too much. They are back to back at the end of the year. SEPARATE THEM A LITTLE!!!"

Then the song 'Africa' by Toto played in the background:

https://youtu.be/FTQbiNvZqaY?si=U_Z2pyFA5M-alD3M

[trixcuomo]

A Christmas Caper

Coco Cuomo: Okay, Sharpen. Looks like she's not here. Away at some fancy rich people holiday vacay, no doubt. Her family is loaded! *shines her flashlight around the dark office*

Sharpen: Are you sure Trixany said to steal this thing back from Haris Pilton, because she stole it first and *deep breath* technically, there's no backsies in corporate commercial law, so like 'it's totally still my idea, so go get it?'

Coco: Ya know, for a himbo, you've got a memory like a steel trap. That is like word-for-word how my sista put it.

Sharpen: Thanks?

Coco: As a successful Goblin businesswoman, I gotta tell ya--You should go into cross-faction international law. With those do-gooder defenders over in Pandaria, they'd never see you comin'.

Sharpen: *mutters* ...Stupid Baine Bloodhoof. Garrosh was a bum!

Coco: I just wish the comm connection wasn't so bad. It cut out before Trix could tell us the name of the damn thing. When will my step-sista learn not to monologue like a villain and just get to the point?

Sharpen: *looks around the dark room with glowing Night Elf eyes* So, what does the file look like again?

Coco: Eh, it ain't gonna be big. It's a screenplay written by Trixany, ya know. So uh... heavy on the B.S., a little Kaja-Cola sponsored love story, a coupla parody musical numbers, then explosions at the end.

Sharpen: Is this it? 'Gone With the Dragonflights?' Or maybe, 'Dragons Prefer Brunettes?' Hrm, this one has Wrathion on the cover.

Coco: No, but yer gettin' warmer. This is our family's last chance to make money off this expansion, so yes--it do be dragon-themed. Try more rip-off-sounding. Rememba, the title mighta been changed by Haris and her mooks!

Sharpen: How about this? 'The Sabellian Movie.' It's... pink. Everything is this crazy pink color and it's supposed to be the true story of the Pink Dragonflight. Why is Wrathion cast as Ken? And Deathwing is Crazy Barbie apparently.

Coco: Wow. That IS a ripoff. But no, too thinky. We're looking for something more obvious--

Sharpen: 'Game of Oathstones.'

Coco: Eyup. *reads a few lines* That's Trix's writing style alright.

Sharpen: But how does this fantasy world get taken over by dragons when everybody's already dragons? *peers searchingly*

Coco: We've found it! And a good thing, too! How many stolen screenplays does Haris have in her office? How many dreams has she crushed, just sitting on promises and promises that she would produce these, make these artists into real talents! It's so cruel. No one should have that kinda power! Who IS she?? The Grinch? Ebenezer Scrooge in designer pumps?

Sharpen: Well, thankfully, we broke in during the holidays while Haris and her staff are gone. We should be able to easily slip back out again. It's the perfect crime. Nothing short of a miracle of screenwriting could ever stop us.

Narrator: Somehow, Haris returned.

Haris: Stealing from me? *switches on the office lights* I don't think so. SECURITY!!

Coco: *facepalms* You just had to break the fourth wall, didn't ya Sharpen?

Haris: Oh, no. Don't blame the sweet himbo this time. You wanted to know how it's done?

Sharpen: ...

Coco: ... ... What, so ya used yer hearthstone to get back here, or somethin'?

Haris: *doom voice* I AM the fourth wall.

Coco & Sharpen: Waaaaauuuughhhh!!!

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Third of december, i dont know if youre a conan gray fan at all, but im gonna blast "heather" all day (i just want to say, a personalized coraline doll??? Omg thats so cool, we really have so much in common. I love coraline)

Now to the questions:

When and how did you discover gvf?

What is your favorite holiday treat or meal? And do you like to cook those meals yourself?

What is your favorite christmas movie?

What are the most devestating pics or even edits of the boys in your opinion? (Im gonna be honest, maybe i just wanna see some devestating pics or edits of them myself😊)

A bit short today, but i cant use up all my ideas at once. Have a great day

-Secret santa🎅🎄

Hi again Santa! December is going by quickly no?

1. I first heard about Greta in March this year because I was watching Bad Omens edits on TikTok and there was one that had Greta song edited over them or something so I went on a little dive of their DIG shows on TikTok but didn’t think anything of it until for a few weeks TikTok kept showing me more and more Greta. Then on March 23rd I actually sat down and watched the Heat Above music video on YouTube and immediately text my husband ‘I found a new band to obsess over’… two Starcatcher shows and lots of new lovely friends later here I am!

2. I don’t have anything specific I like to cook all the time but my family makes me bake a snickerdoodle cheesecake every year. One of my friends is gluten intolerant and vegetarian so I really enjoy finding new recipes to try out that fit all of our wants/needs. This year we’ve been talking about doing a soup feast because I make a really good minestrone and my other friend makes a fuckin delicious butternut squash soup and we want to make a polish pickle soup!

3. My favorite Christmas movie has to be either Jim Carey in The Grinch cause that’s iconic… or The Nightmare Before Christmas (she’s versatile okay)

4. You are so real for this. I am still disturbed by what happened in the group chat the other day…

Please go easy on me or I fear I might fall in love with you 😭

I almost forgot! I’m not a huge Conan fan but my bestie is and she got me hooked on Heather 🫶

Happy Sunday everyone!

[hale-raiser1]

now you're just making me want popcorn and i don't need popcorn! wait - Lili got married? how did i not already know this? i mean, i don't know her that well but it seems like something i would have seen somewhere. geesh, i really haven't been paying enough attention to things out in the world lately. that's.. not a half bad idea and something i would totally do. for St. Jude's this year i'm going to dress up as an elf and deliver presents to the kids at the hospital. i normally don't do the whole dressing up thing but this year you've got me in the mood to be Lucy on the shelf! you're not a grinch, stop that. i don't see the wrong in that, honestly. not everyone is all about the holidays, IE you, so do what you gotta do to be happy at this time of the year. and if you want to come crash my families stuff, you're more than welcome! so we're going to Hawaii? that's basically all i heard in all of that. plus beach. you can have all the fruity drinks and i'll sit there and look pretty. it'll be a win win either way we go! uh.. cops and robbers sounds kinky, my love. so maybe let me hold the handcuffs while y'all do whatever it is you're gonna do. just don't harm him below the belt, alright? 'cause yeah. no. thank you! i am happy. he makes me happy. he's such a great guy, one that i want to pretty much tell everyone about in the most annoying way possible. @petsch-madelame

@hale-raiser well, that's like telling me i'd forget to bring the popcorn for a movie night. like, what is even the point of a movie night if you don't have popcorn and snacks? we definitely could. i think i would love that. it's just something that we'd have to work out with each other and plan around. and Lili is over there all married now so i don't know how much time she'd have for us anyways. i'm only kidding but at the same time, you know family is more important. you would be the most kickass elf. do it incognito, if you can. like just apply under a fake name and get hired and see if you could go unnoticed. i'd probably play a pretty damn good elf too if i enjoyed Christmas. but instead i'm just a grinch and i'm that really weird aunt that shows up to the parties either drunk or at all the wrong times and i typically sneak out before anyone notices that i am even there. i make an appearance long enough to get in like three pictures so people can't say they never see me at family events haha you're damn right, it has been way too long since i have gotten to see your gorgeous face in person. yes, warm on the beach like in Hawaii, Maui to be exact. i can sit on the beach and drink pina colada's out of pineapples and we can just relax. it sounds like an amazing time to me. so what i'm hearing is that i have to convince him to play a good old fashioned game of Cops and Robbers and then i can kill him. got it. good. now i have a game plan hahaha. no, seriously. as long as you're happy. i'm happy.

[redrobin-detective]

So ‘tis the season and I’m going to talk about one of the most personally offensive things I saw in Danny Phantom which was the handling of Danny’s hatred of Christmas as catalogued in the The Fright Before Christmas. The story opens with Danny being bitter and closed off and overall miserable with the upcoming holiday. The people around him call him Scrooge for his attitude and try and force the cheer onto him despite him clearly being upset by it. 

The narrative reinforces the idea that Danny is in the wrong, almost saying that Ghost Writer was justified about ‘teaching Danny a lesson’ in holiday spirit. Even just typing it out infuriates me because I am like Danny. I remember watching the episode as a young adult and feeling such a kinship with Danny’s struggles during the episode. I too hate the holidays and get surly and sullen and anxious around this time of year. My hatred stems from family issues, from days spent screaming and just wanting January to come and move past all this horrible tension. My friends and family (yes even the family who argues most of the time) have called me names and told me to get into the spirit and not be such a downer.

I consider myself to be a good person, maybe not a literal superhero, but someone who cares about people and does kind things all year round. Neither Danny and I are sulky all the time and have understandable, very specific reasons why the holidays are a bad time. And yet Danny’s central problem is never really addressed, everyone around it makes it HIS problem that he’s miserable. Why didn’t Ghostwriter go after Jack and Maddie and make them see what they were doing to their kids? Why didn’t Sam and Tuck, usually 110% in Danny’s corner, help spirit him away to make new happier holiday traditions? Maybe Danny could have decided to run away for the holidays and bonded with the ghosts in the Zone during the truce. No, we heap all this blame on a child who has trauma and try to fix it by reinforcing the commercialized, capitalistic package of Christmas™ without ever really addressing why someone would feel so upset this time of year.

Butch Hartmen certainly isn’t beloved in the Phandom for his nuance or sensitivity but this particular moment really hits home for me. I worked a very rough few shifts over Thanksgiving and one nurse was loudly playing Christmas music most of the time. I moved seats, I asked her to turn it down, I broke down and cried at one point from stress and just asked Please can we not do this. “Don’t be such a grinch,” I heard from multiple people, “you’re just going to have to deal with it.” And as I have many years prior, I thought back to Danny, my comrade in traumatic Christmas memories and thought we both deserved better.