#they're gonna make them kids or something i know it

[mistyjessart]

The Odyssey Modern AU: Christmas edition

For your consideration: the Odyssey but as a Hallmark Christmas movie where Odysseus travels to New York for work and is trying to get home to Hawaii?? (I needed a long domestic flight shhhhh it was either this or Vancouver to Newfoundland) in time for Christmas dinner with Penelope and Telemachus after missing it for the last 20 years straight

The Trojan War is some really big business venture or something that took literally forever for them to sign but they finally did it!!

Polyphemus keeps them after work threatening to get HR involved because they accidentally ate his lunch that he left in the fridge, Polites and some of his other coworkers get stuck there but Ody and the rest manage to escape the office

Athena is Odysseus' boss (and childhood friend) who told him to get everything done more efficiently so he could leave earlier but noooooo he didn't listen and guess who's cutting it close again

The wind bag: Aeolus (from another department, maybe distribution??) sends them home with snacks that they forget to declare and Poseidon the airport security guard sees them after Eurylochus opens the bag in the waiting area and pulls them into the security room until they miss their flight

Circe owns a local motel and wanted to kick them out because she doesn't trust so many dudes around her employees after past incidents, but her and Athena's mutual friend Hermes gives Odysseus some of her favourite tea as a peace offering and he tells her about his wife and kid and she's just like "fineeeeee okay you're a wife guy, I guess I can find you a room"

She calls them a taxi to the airport the next day and the driver Tiresias just keeps giving them ominous life advice and seems to know like... way too much about them and also they're not entirely sure he actually has his license

Odysseus gets a call from his mom like "where are you we're waiting for you" and he's like "I'm on my way home I promiseeeeeeeeee I'll be there this time"

The sirens are various sales reps at the airport

Scylla (baggage check employee) keeps some of them cuz their bags are too heavy so Ody and the rest head to the gate without them

Eurylochus brings snacks again (thinking Chicharron-style snacks, ones you're not supposed to bring on a plane) and Zeus detains them

The suitors are just the neighbourhours who bully Telemachus like "oooOOOOhhhhh ssuuuUUURrreee your dad is tOOOOtally gonna show up to Christmas this year" and making jokes about his mom

Athena (who did leave early and catch the original flight) scares them away and reassures Telemachus that his dad is on his way (while texting Odysseus "see I told you so")

She finds out Zeus is the one detaining them so she calls her dad like "please can you at least send Odysseus on his way, you literally know him, he's just a dumbass sometimes" so Zeus let's Odysseus go catch his flight but keeps the rest of them in security

Calypso is some lady he's seated next to on the plane who hits on him for the entire ten-hour flight

Poseidon, who got transferred to the other airport, recognizes Odysseus from before and pulls him into security again and Odysseus just rips into him until he lets him go

The neighbours are bullying Telemachus while he's out getting last-minute ingredients for dinner when some dude turns up and tells them off and threatens to get their parents so they all run off

Penelope's just like... "who are you and what have you done with my husband, how are you actually on time"

Insert sweet and sappy Christmas dinner with the entire family until Odysseus' sister goes "wait... where's Eurylochus?"

Eurylochus turns up at the door the next morning like "ODYSSEUS YOU MF I HAD TO CATCH ANOTHER FLIGHT-"

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 2

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2])

I'm glad nicky came up with a cool new tune because according to period movies and shows greensleeves is the only song anyone ever knew

look at that meek little smile, ughhhh. nicky is like two days old and this asshole has already figured out he's the perfect prop for her murder sprees. and these poor women are calling her sister and are willing to help too.

the spell is te accipimus in circulum, we accept you in the circle, and yes that makes me cry a little. we accept you in our community. and the spell is yellow air magic, which sounds like the most empathic kind if Lilia is any indication.

that's interesting, you can't really tell that well from screencaps but go rewatch the scene, this witch is making mushrooms grow with yellow magic instead of green?? is it just a spell (she is holding a book) or have I been getting it all wrong and color has nothing to do with the type of magic one has?

or maybe??? the color depends on the coven you're in?? the salemites all had blue magic for example. and now that I think about it the stone circle is a protection spell but it's not red/orange.

the meaning of this scene is so glaring dear lord. agatha was never going to give these women a chance to prove that yes, there are people out there who could love and help and accept her. she has shut herself up to that possibility a long time ago.

and she stole the soup too. awful.

I've seen all the different theories about nicky needing to feed on witches too, or nicky needing soul sacrifices to survive because he's the son of death etc. we don't have enough evidence to prove anything yet, but personally I headcanon nicky as a totally normal kid, that makes this story even more tragic.

and aww that baby suckling on the little pudgy fist

nicky doesn't look that happy about what he's been asked to do, does he?

we establish that nicky was sickly (maybe he was born with some internal defect that rio temporarily patched up?) we also see him steal the bell agatha will use for her Road scam in the future.

and we meet yet another witch being kind and wanting to help.

agatha: I love this six year old so much I'm gonna make him accessory to murder

dO yOU ShaME YouR MOtHER

and the big fake gasp too. as usual this bitch has conned a whole community

like, she's convinced herself that other witches are bad and are after her WHILE relying on witches's good hearts to con and kill them. what sort of mental gymnastics???

color goes from yellow to purple. nicky waits outside while his mom commits murder, it's not a good look on agatha. completely fucked up, actually.

(I'm terrified that the goat will end up being an agent of mephisto or something idiotic like that, lemme tell you. I hope they're just keeping it for milk and company.)

and here's the million dollar question. nicky has seen his mom kill literally since he was born, and now he's old enough to start realizing what that means.

oooh I know that look, that's agatha when she's put on the spot. she avoids his gaze, she can't be sincere with him.

and of course she's teaching herself spells from a book. nerrrrrrd

nicky, bless his soul, appears to give it a good thought and then offers a practical suggestion. I guess he wouldn't mind to have a roof on his head and some friends too.

GREAT acting from kathryn here. the quick OH SHIT face followed by the super final NO, with her jaw so rigid. in typical agatha fashion, when she's upset she becomes avoidant.

this is evanora's legacy. despite agatha's immense love for nicky, she is passing all that pain down and inflicting it on him.

remember when she called billy a survivor? this is the greatest asset in her opinion, the one she wants to teach her son. the truth is, she is angry at witches because she is scared of them, she's scared of being targeted again. but look at that kid's dark circles, I can't believe she's making him sleep in the woods, sick as he is!

really really fantastic subtlety. agatha wants to sound wise and strong, but she looks scared, uncertain, guilty.

see how nicky looks at agatha while he sings? he's checking to see if she's noticing, because his mom likes music and likes his voice. he's afraid he has upset her and wants to make her smile. he tried to reason with her, and now he tries to soothe her. this is what happens when you have an immature parent, a child will want to help, they will try to fix things. they'll end up parenting their parent, and it should always be the other way round.

agatha takes the bait. she's relieved that the conversation has moved to a safer subject. but oh, this script is so good. this is a mostly innocent, mostly sweet remark, but with a possessive undertone. don't forget that you are mine, she says.

and still, the love is real. even in a fucked up situation like this, these moment of happiness are precious and genuine and will linger on. look at how adoringly nicky looks at his mom, she's literally the sun and center of his small world, and that's how agatha likes it: she created nicky because she needed someone who could be hers without any baggage or consequences. but it turns out that raising a child is not a cheat code for love, it's one of the most difficult, most significant and impactful decisions a human can make.

[alfredojesta]

jason is just a sad little victorian boy ...

i know it's christmas but i don't celebrate so i get to make the least jolliest comic!!! ^o^ i'm like the grinch but i make pastas suffer!

gonna talk about his family life below. heavy tw for abuse and physical assault (bullying)

okay so. jason was alive around... 1880-1920? smth like that. not sure on the details yet. this is gonna be a really rough post.

his father (charles meyer) was the AHEM man of the house. always in charge. controlling and humourless.

his mother (charlotte meyer) (no they're not cousins) was timid and mostly kept in the background.

jason is their only son for they could not make another </3

charlotte was erm. frightened by charles. sometimes, she would speak out against him. tell him to think about his actions—but he'd yell back, and they would get into a back and forth argument.

jason unfortunately witnessed these fights of theirs. he never once stepped in, but holy shit did these fights shape his little child brain.

while his family life sucked—so did his social life. kids at school picked on him for being him (he's autistic and struggled w talking to people). his only friend was the sweetest girl on the playground: amelia, but he feared her leaving him because he was "pathetic".

his father hated jason for getting bullied. charles perceived jason as weak, and to toughen him up, he'd regularly beat him up, basically.

if jason got terribly injured, he'd get hit just because he didn't stand up for himself. it wasn't rare for jason to come home with a bunch of bruises. piling on those bruises with the ones he got from his father, too. he hated looking at himself. he hated all the things people did to him. he wanted control of his own life, of his body, and the people around him.

but he wouldn't get it. not then.

while his father hurt him—his mother tried to help him. she'd bandage his wounds, n tell him that charles doesn't mean what he says and that both of them love jason very much.

jason wanted that to be true. he wanted his parents to love him. that's all he strived for in life. making them proud.

HOWEVER. jason is really into toymaking, which neither of his parents support, and he spends a lot of his time working on toy projects. both charles and charlotte have had discussions about this.

charles considers jason to be broken. at first, charlotte thinks charles is ridiculous for saying that about their only son. then, as jason starts showing more signs of his... lack of social skills—charlotte starts to think. there really IS something wrong with her son

(THERE'S NOTHING WRONG W HIM HE'S JUST AUTISTIC AND HIS SPECIAL INTEREST IS MAKING TOYS)

anyway this notion his parents set made jason think he's broken. and the only thing that matters in life is perfection.

happy holidays

[sketchehm]

Augh wait, completely non Canon but I just had an idea for like, if the cats were actually kids

_-_-_-_-_-_

'I have an important message for you'

The message is followed by a three minute audio.

Finally, after hours of scrubbing through months and months of massages between Sapnap and his old family, they finally found something about his mission to infiltrate Team Mafia.

(Shadoune swears Sapnap wasn't on his phone this much. How did he find the time to text these two so much? How many times do you need to text someone a reminder to eat in one day??)

The phone is already connected to a speaker so they can all hear everything without having to circle around it, so there's only hesitante stopping them from pressing play.

This is what Sapnap was sent here to do. This spells out exactly the ways he was ordered to betray them.

Shadoune presses play.

"Hi Dad! Hiiiiiiiii" Two children voices come from the speaker, "We miss you lotssss!! I got the tiara you sent me! Me and Patches are matching now, we look like sisters!"

"Of course we do, we are sisters stupid."

Another child's voice sounds out, a little father away and a little deeper

One of the first two kids giggles, and there's a shuffle before the other's voice sounds again

"When are you coming back home? Pops and Papa say we should take down the Christmas decorations, but I like them!! Milo don't steal the phone! I'm asking Dad when he's coming home! Oh yeah... Dad we miss you a lot, will you be done with work soon?"

"You two..."

There's two tiny sad sighs

"We know... Be careful Dad, we love you lots! You need to tell us all the cool work stories when you get home! Yeah, we need like, 5 whole bed time stories when you come back! Love you bye! Byeeeeeeeee-"

The audio ends. There's pure silence in the room, a variation of shell-shocked faces all around. Serpias looks a little teary, and no one is quick enough to grab him before he rushes off, thankfully up to his room instead of to the basement.

"Creo..." Rich starts awkwardly, "Creo que eso es suficiente por hoy."

_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Honestly Serpias would probably run straight to Sapnap, but if anyone ever brought up his kids while he was in the basement he would murder them with his bare hands and I didnt know how to write that right now so... Serpias! To your room!

Serpias beloved 🥺

He just wants the best for Sapnap always and forever....

Serpias after going through every crisis and still not thinking straight, he makes a quick pitstop, shoving something in his pocket before going down to the basement in the dead of night.

Sapnap is actually awake with Dream this time. And when they see Serpias enter... Eyes bloodshot, sniffling, overall looking terrible.....well. Sapnap is beyond worried. He grabs Dream's arms tightly. He doesn't know what Serpias is gonna say.

"Lo siento."

It's quiet. Could barely hear it over his sniffling.

Sapnap thinks they're going to die.

Dream asks what's wrong. Tone dangerously grave.

"You....have children..."

Dream will tense. But Sapnap will be on his feet. Hands already gripping Serpias' shirt collar and slamming him against the door

"What happened with them?"

Serpias has never heard Sapnap so serious, so frightening. It's actually the first time he's heard Sapnap speak on his own without Dream.

Sapnap will scream in Serpias' face asking what happened. Threatening to make his death and everyone else's in this house slow and painful if they laid a finger on them. His eyes are wild. The kind of insane he's only witnessed watching Sapnap in the ring and taking down an opponent.

This is life or death to Sapnap he realizes.

George is waking up from the noise as Sapnap continues to yell and slam his head against the door. What happened. WHAT HAPPENED!

"NADA! SAPNAP HICIMOS NADA!"

Serpias can barely get it out. He feels dizzy. He might be bleeding.

"Then why are you sorry." Sapnap's cold tone hurts Serpias' more than scares him. Never wanting Sapnap to hate him ever. But he knew this would happen. Expected to be more than half dead by this point.

"For taking you away from them....They are alone..."

It's quiet again.

"Why are you saying this?" It's Dream. His tone is cold and calculating, something Serpias is familiar to. Welcomes it even. Something to focus on that isn't Sapnap's hatred.

"Para escaparé." He produces the keys in his pocket. They're for a car.

And Sapnap let's him go. Serpias feels really dizzy without the support now. The headache so overwhelming, he can't help close his eyes. He's out cold before he falls over.

When he wakes up he's in the infirmary with Farfa at the side of his bed. He can feel the headache of a concussion, the back of his head pounding. He notices the bandages wrapped around his head.

"Se fueron."

Serpias jumps at Farfa's voice. But once the words register, despite the incredible pain, he can't help but be relieved.

[irrelevantbutembarrassing]

I'm gonna fucking CRY can you IMAGINE Steve pulling Eddie to the closet where the presents are like "Okay don't be mad???" And Eddie has No Idea where he's going with this but Steve has a whole list and maybe he still has a notebook with the addresses and names of kids who are definitely too grown for Santa now, but these days he's got like the little giving tree cards taped inside with notes on what he already has and what he needs

Literally the first thing Eddie does is call Wayne (and immediately swear him to secrecy) and yell STEVE IS FUCKING SANTA CLAUS.

Wayne: ... pretty sure there's a song about that, bud. Need me to have a talk with your boy?

Eddie, still at full volume: NO OLD MAN. STEVE IS SANTA. STEVE BROUGHT US THE PORCH SANTA PRESENTS AND WROTE US THE ORNAMENT NOTE. HE'S BEEN DOING IT FOR FUCKING YEARS. ALL BY HIMSELF. WAYNE HOLY SHIT

Wayne, internally: knew i liked that kid. Been makin' my boy happy since they were in single digits without so much as a thank you. Nothing like his parents.

Wayne, out loud: hope his handwriting has gotten better. Notes were damn near illegible first couple of years.

Eddie, somehow louder: HOW ARE YOU SO CHILL ABOUT THIS-

And also??? Can you fucking imagine in the early years, some adult in Forest Hills is up late because 2nd/3rd shift or worrying or chores and they happen to look out the window and there's... someone??? Creeping up to the porch next door??????? And maybe they think about calling out but then they realize it has to be a kid, and who tf has their kid out this late, except. The kid is alone. And they're already sneaking away but they've left something behind??? And they've got a tiny wagon and they're squinting at something in their hand but now they're off down the road, pausing in front of each trailer to peer at the number, and up they go to drop something else off???????

They're clearly not causing any trouble and beyond that it's none of their business, so grown up is off to bed and then when they wake up everyone is talking about Santa coming???? And it's not like they saw WHO it was, so they keep quiet and it makes them a little happy, and it keep happening and everyone expects and gets used to it and they want to know but they also don't because it would ruin some of the magic, you know???

From Santa

Prompt: Magic | Rating: G | Wordcount: 2,957 | AO3 | @steddiebingo

Steve was seven when he found out that Santa did not exist. He tried, once, the whole ‘Santa’ thing. After hearing the stories from kids at school, he ran over to Melvald’s and bought a tin of cookies with his allowance before skipping excitedly home. Some of the kids mentioned feeding the magic deer, because flying took a lot out of them obviously, and Steve wasn’t quite sure what magic deer ate, but he left out a few carrots in the yard just in case.

He was so excited, setting out the cookies in front of the big tree in the living room and hoping he’d wake up to find a present underneath, just for him. Maybe it would be a cool Hess Truck like Tommy wanted, or maybe it would be an action figure, or comic books, or maybe his parents would come home. The other kids said Santa was magic, that he could do anything, so Steve wasn’t picky.

He went to bed excited and could barely close his eyes to sleep, but the other kids said Santa didn’t come if you were awake so Steve tried his very best. He finally fell asleep with the taste of ginger snaps on his tongue (there was a whole tin, and Santa had hundreds, maybe thousands of cookies every night, so he didn’t think Santa would mind one less).

He woke up to a spotless and quiet house, no puddles from snow on Santa’s boots, no bites out of the cookies, and no present under the tree. No parents either. Steve didn’t have any more cookies that day. He couldn’t bear it.

When his parents arrived a week later, Steve was greeted not by hugs and exclamations of how much his parents missed him, but by his mother loudly and forcefully demanding answers to why her yard was scattered with gross old carrots, drying and cracking and covered in mud from the melted snow. So he told her. He told her about Santa and how he wanted him to come, how he went to bed early like a good boy, and waited all night. How he didn’t show up.

She laughed.

It was cold and icy, like the shards still hanging from the gutters on their roof. She told him he shouldn’t be impatient for his presents — they were in the car like always — and really, Steven, it doesn’t look good for a boy to be so demanding, and the presents certainly weren’t from Santa because the man did not exist.

Santa didn’t exist.

So yes, Steve knew from a young age that the jolly man in the coat and hat was simply a lie — told to children to excite them and give them something to look forward to. He didn’t really get it at first; were the presents not enough? Was the week off from school not exciting? Did they not look forward to Christmas morning without the story of a man sneaking down the chimney? But he’d also fallen for it. He was so excited, he liked the idea of feeding the magic deer, and leaving a treat out for someone delivering gifts out of kindness. He liked the story, that a man with so much power wanted to use it to make children happy. He liked being thought of, liked being remembered by someone he didn’t even know, liked that it was a reward for being nice throughout the year.

But it wasn’t true. And that was fine, Steve tried to convince himself. He still got the presents, and he still got his parents, even if they were a week late. He still got a hug from his nanny, and his mom let him have the rest of the ginger snaps, and he didn’t even have to clean up the carrots from the yard.

His parents left again, and school started again, and it was fine.

It was fine, until Tommy came barreling through the door with his Hess Truck held high and the praise of Santa spewing from his lips, and Steve noticed that not everyone shared in Tommy’s delight. Most of them did, and a lot of them brought their favorite toy to school just like Tommy, but a few kids (maybe three) sat still in their chairs — like they could avoid any questions if they blended into the background. They ducked their heads and they sank in their seats, and Steve wondered if they also found out Santa wasn’t real.

But Tommy singled one kid out at recess. He dragged him out, to the center of the playground, and told everyone that Santa didn’t go to trailer parks, that the kids in Forest Hills didn’t get presents from Santa, because only good kids got presents, and how could they be good if they lived in a junk yard. Those words didn’t sound like Tommy, but he was always repeating things his dad said, copying him and taking his word as gospel.

The kid, scrawny with a shaved head and angry brown eyes, sank into his shoes. Not in retreat, not in a cowering way. He sank into his shoes like he was grounding himself, like he was making sure his footing was firm and steady, and he shoved Tommy right into the ground.

Of course, only then did a teacher interject, and only the boy Steve didn’t know the name of was dragged away to the office. Tommy angrily scrambled to his feet and spat at the ground where the kid had stood, remarking that he was right and the Forrest Hills kids were definitely on the naughty list, Steve, wasn’t he right? Did he see that? What a freak that kids was.

Steve rolled his eyes and didn’t say anything. He knew interrupting Tommy was just more hassle than it was worth, and Tommy was wrong anyway because Santa wasn’t real. He’d figure it out eventually, Steve supposed, but he wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

It was his walk home that gave him an idea. He saw the bus pass by as he trudged along, down the road and off in the direction of Forrest Hills trailer park. He wondered if that kid from recess was there, if he saw Steve out the window as he passed, if he really didn’t get any presents. He thought about all the gifts his parents gave him that were still packaged up in his closet because he had too many and he didn’t really like them all. And he thought about how much he wanted someone to think about him on Christmas, with no other purpose or desire but to make him happy.

So, with an inkling of an idea creeping its way through his head, he ran the rest of the way home and pulled out the phone book from the hallway table, as well as his yearbook from the previous year. There weren’t many numbers from Forrest Hills, but he did find the three kids from his class and a couple from the year above. He picked out which of his unopened presents he thought they’d like the most, and he wrapped them crudely in leftover paper he found in the study. He ripped off a few pages from the note pad by the phone, and wrote out in his best writing:

From Santa, sorry I was late

And then:

P.S. my elf wrote this

Because his best writing was still pretty bad.

It took him a couple days to plan and gather things, but in the dead of night — after his neighbors clicked off their porch lights — he piled all five presents into a little red wagon and tied the wagon to the end of his bike. He took off toward Forrest Hills, a little list of names and addresses crinkled in his pocket. He tip-toed around the dirt paths, freezing in fear every time his little wagon’s wheels squeaked, and placed the presents and the notes from ‘Santa’ on the doorsteps that matched his little list. He checked it twice, just for fun.

He felt lighter on the ride back home, and not just because his wagon was empty.

Steve was seven when he decided to become Santa himself.

It wasn’t obvious, the next day at school, and Steve didn’t do it just to listen to kids whisper about Santa visiting Forrest Hills a week late, but he did notice something. The three kids who had sunk low in their seats the first day back, who avoided talking to the others to brag about their presents, were no longer trying to blend into the background. They sat comfortably in their seats, and whispered among themselves, eyes twinkling a little more than they had a few days ago. Steve was ecstatic. He sat, buzzing silently with excitement as he tried to keep his face blank and neutral. Santa had to be kept secret, after all.

He did it again the next year, adding the newest kids to his list from the years below him, and saved up his allowance to get some cuter presents for the girls; some nail polish and art supplies, some coloring books and beads. This time he wasn’t late, and his handwriting had improved a lot from the year before (though he still blamed the elves for his wonky letters).

He had fun, learning how to wrap the paper around each gift, saving up his money to pick out presents he hoped the other kids would like, wondering what their faces looked like when they opened the door to find a present on their front step.

He was a little worried that the kids would be concerned Santa hadn’t made it inside, being magic and all, but he also noticed that none of the trailers had chimneys so maybe that was okay. He also learned that most of the kids in Forrest Hills did get presents, and he felt a little stupid for assuming they didn’t just from Tommy’s dumb comments, but he also knew they weren’t the fancy presents other kids got like bikes and new games.

He tried making his Santa presents a little more extravagant. After all, why would Santa give Tommy a brand new Lego set, but give Willie across town a pack of baseball cards? Steve just wanted to even the playing field a bit, knock Tommy down a peg or two when he tried humiliating another kid on the playground and that kid said Actually Tommy, I got the new Hess Truck from Santa, too! And Steve remembered wrapping it up, much neater this time, and almost getting caught on the stoop when a dog started barking at him. He muffled a giggle into his hand when Tommy floundered for something to say, coming up empty handed.

As the years passed and the kids in his grade stopped believing in Santa, he scratched their names off his list. He kept adding to it as well, though. He paid attention to the new kids in each grade, noticed if they had a little less than those around them, noticed if they were on the outskirts or if they looked a little nervous as the holidays drew nearer and nearer. He left presents for the Byers one year when he heard that Jon’s mom lost her job after his dad left. He left presents almost all over town, had the phone book highlighted with every address he wrote down in his notebook — a much needed upgrade from the crumpled piece of paper in his pocket. He wrote a list, he checked it twice, and he made sure to slip through the dark like a shadow, avoiding anything that might give him away.

He was always surprised when no adults tried to stop him. Surely, the stoop presents were well known throughout town by the time Steve reached high school, but maybe they didn’t want to know who was behind it. Maybe they wanted to keep the magic alive, too. Either way, Steve played a successful Santa for nearly two decades before anyone found out.

It was Eddie.

It was always Eddie.

Eddie, the boy who knocked Tommy clear to the ground that first winter. Eddie, the boy who made Steve want to help. Eddie, the boy who received the first ever gift from Hawkin’s own Santa, though Steve kind of hoped that was a secret he could keep.

They were putting up the tree in their apartment, the first Christmas they were spending together. Eddie had brought several old ornaments from the trailer, ones that he stole from right under Wayne’s nose because lord knows the man wouldn’t want to part with them if he didn’t have to — a collector, that man was. Steve picked up one that, at first, had been unassuming, a clear bauble filled with glitter. Hanging it on the sad twiggy branch of their Charlie Brown tree, however, he noticed a little piece of paper inside. It was aged and a bit crumpled, but not too shabby for how old it was.

From Santa, sorry I was late, it read in squiggled, messy handwriting, the wonky letters leaning to one side more than the other.

P.S. my elf wrote this

Steve stared at it for entirely too long, catching Eddie’s attention as he hung the last ornament.

“Wayne made that one, if you can believe it,” Eddie said, tapping the plastic bauble with the nail of his pointer finger. “I mean, not the note,” he clarified, “that was Santa.” He whispered the last part conspiratorially, as if letting Steve in on a huge secret. Steve felt like he was going to cry, suddenly, the tears pricking behind his eyes. With a start he realized, selfishly, that he didn’t want Eddie to know. He wanted to keep this mystery alive for just a little longer, like a parent too sad to let their child grow out of the world of magic and wonder, like it was too soon though the secret had been brewing for nearly twenty years.

Eddie wrapped a cautious arm around Steve’s shoulders, unsure of where his sudden teary-eyed expression came from. Instead of facing his questioning look, Steve tucked his head into the crook of Eddie’s neck and listened as the man regaled him with the story of his first ever gift from the Santa Claus.

That year, Wayne had lost his job as a trucker because Eddie had fallen into his lap. He couldn’t leave the kid all alone, had to stay and take care of him, and he was between jobs until the holiday snuck right up on them both. They had a tree, just as shabby and sparse as the one they currently stood in front of, but there was no money to spare for gifts. Wayne had apologized, and Eddie had been very understanding for an eight year old — after all, he had been learning not to rely on adults, anyway.

He’d gotten in trouble when the school year resumed, however, for shoving an insufferable Tommy Hagan to the ground during recess. Of course Tommy hadn’t gotten in trouble, since vigilantism was an under appreciated form of justice, Eddie declared. Steve snorted into Eddie’s neck, just imagining the ranting tirade the skinny boy with a shaved head must have gone on, trying to defend himself to the principal.

Eddie was furious as he got back home, pissed off at Hagan, pissed off at his parents, pissed off at the world. And then — what to his wondering eyes did appear — two days later, Wayne had opened the door to the shittiest wrapped present he’d ever seen. Steve bit his tongue. It was for Eddie, according to the name scribbled onto the wrapping paper, and the little note declared it was a lost gift from Santa.

“Like magic,” Eddie smiled.

Steve had no idea that was his first Christmas at Wayne’s, and he had no clue what that first shove on the playground could lead to. He could still picture Eddie’s scrunched brow as he glared daggers at Tommy, could still remember the way he sank into his shoes and grounded himself for a fight, like he was used to it, like he knew what was coming. He wished he could picture Eddie’s face as he realized Santa hadn’t forgotten about him.

“Anyway,” he said, startling Steve from his thoughts, still tucked away in Eddie’s neck, “Wayne kept that note, and I think he’s got the one from the next year, too. He’d saved enough money for a couple presents that year, but I think he was grateful for a little extra help.”

Steve pictured himself, a tiny little thing, curled up in the living room, all alone on Christmas Eve as he wrapped up presents and wrote out his Santa letters. He remembered feeling less alone for the first Christmas in forever, because he was too busy sticking too much tape onto glittery wrapping paper and worrying about not getting caught to care that his parents weren’t home again.

He thought about the bag full of presents, tucked away in the back of the closet so Eddie wouldn’t find them, and his list of kids he collected from the library’s giving tree. He had planned on sneaking out, planned to slip away from Eddie’s prone form and deliver the gifts alone, like always, but Eddie squeezed his shoulder and kissed the top of his head and he realized that he didn’t have to be alone anymore. Maybe this year there could be two Santas, delivering gifts to the children of Hawkins in the dead of night. Maybe this year he could have some help. Maybe this year, there could be twice as much magic as the year before.

—

Bingo Prompts

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

All I have to say about the Ninjago movie.

[micamone]

hewwo

[graciousdragon]

OH MY FUCKING GOD

I JUST WENT TO MY LOCAL HOT TOPIC THAT I'VE BEEN GOING TO FOR LIKE. 5 OR 6 YEARS NOW RIGHT??

I GOT SOME MCR STUFF BECAUSE. OF COURSE. IF YOU'VE SEEN MY RECENT POSTING HABITS YOU KNOW. THE BRAINROT IS REAL

I WAS TALKING WITH THE CASHIER ABOUT THEM BECAUSE HE WAS ALSO A FAN AND HE FUCKING SAYS "you wanna know a fun fact? this is the hot topic the lead singer used to work at! :D"

FUCKING WHAT

GERARD WAY USED TO WORK AT MY LOCAL FUCKING HOT TOPIC?!?

AND AFTER I LEFT I LOOKED IT UP TO MAKE SURE HE WASN'T FUCKING WITH ME AND YEAH. HE WAS RIGHT. WHAT THE FUCK

SORRY FOR THE ALL CAPS THIS IS LIKE. WORLD-SHATTERING INFORMATION TO ME AND HE JUST DROPPED THAT SHIT SO CASUALLY WHAT THE HELL BRO. I NEEDED TO SCREAM ABOUT THIS SOMEWHERE

[somegrumpynerd]

@pigeonstab Oh this is fun to explore you're right

I tend to hc they don't know the story but they've picked up bits and pieces. Nightmare does not want to share, he'll avoid all attempts by others to ask about his past or what happened and he thinks he's done a fairly good job keeping them in the dark.

The problem is his boys are all Sanses. Classic Sans does not get his information by asking, he loves to read between the lines and make safe assumptions, and all his boys have a little bit of that still in them. So any time he's mentioned something off-hand or shown a bias towards one thing or another, they've been filing it away.

They don't know about his childhood (much) or what happened between him and Dream that caused all this, but they know he has a dubious past with mortals in some form and they assume it's to do with how he looks and that he feeds off negativity. They know he gets unnerved by large crowds and the sounds of apples crunching. They know he can't stand to see someone left alone in miserable circumstances.

But, alternatively, it would be really funny if he told them a fake story and they'd all been working off that the whole time

[weirfq1]

with all these gaston crackships/rarepairs that are coming out lately it would be so fucking funny if he had a flig with all the main characters (ambar, nina, simon... hell luna too if you want) and they all know it except matteo

[rapidhighway]

Hnngg

[seventh-district]

not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go

(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)

[front-facing-pokemon]

[meganechan05]

Note to Self: Do Not Tease the Tiny Supreme Justice when Moffun is Involved

Or face their miniature wrath 🤣

[smile-files]

aaaugh matpat why must you monopolize internet theory-crafting... i bet whatever welcome home theory he comes up with (no matter its quality) will be immediately absorbed into the heads of his tons of viewers who are only seeing the story for the first time in his video and all of the nuances of everything will be drained out from the general public's perception of the arg :(

[infizero]

a single mom raising a family of four 💪😥💗