#thread: holly & snow.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Desperate Fool - Part 4

Part 3

Eddie gets settled on his usual kitchen barstool and watches Nancy make a pot of coffee, which is great considering he showed up at the ass crack of dawn, too anxious to wait. Well, and a day early, but sue him, he missed her. 

Nancy and Jonathan’s house is just as cozy as he remembers, while also serving as a solid reminder he’s not the only successful Wheeler. Original hardwood floors complimented with arched entryways and wainscoting. Cream and sage fill the living space, dotted with drops of gold accents. Low, soft lighting illuminates every room with warmth. It’s clean and modern, yet comforting in a way The Harrington’s eggshell minimalism estate and his own dark industrial penthouse have always lacked. 

It’s quiet and domestic and everything he’s missed about having a home. The glow in his chest doesn’t outweigh the thread of tension thrumming through him, but it does ease slightly when she hands him coffee in his favorite Garfield mug.

They catch up for hours as she fills him in on everything he’s missed. Mom and Ted finally retired down to Clearwater after Holly moved out for college. Mike and Will’s adoption went through, after working on it for years– and jesus christ, he’s an uncle now. Will’s still publishing his YA fantasy graphic novels. Mike’s a happy house-husband now stay at home dad. 

El finally quit her shitty government research job and decided she’d rather work full-time at Argyle’s pizza shop learning the ins and outs of the business. She’s better suited for it, he thinks, she’s always loved being around people and working with her hands.

She tells him about her and Jon settling into their new posts at The Chicago Times. Nancy’s managed to make friends with people outside of the Politics department. Jon’s moved from photographing for tabloids to local events like concerts and festivals, currently out of town for the weekend at a festival in Rockford. She says he’s happier now, with a job more his speed, and Eddie has to agree. Although they apparently just missed each other last fall when he’d started the job only a month after Corroded Coffin’s concert at Wrigley.

As Nancy goes on, talking about the rest of the kids while they lounge around the house, moving from the kitchen, to the living room, to the snow covered balcony so he can smoke, he tries to listen– he does. But he’s close to snapping, forced to wait so long for answers. He needs to know everything that’s happened, and why she’s the one who has to tell him. Her and Steve dated in high-school almost ten years ago, and granted they stayed close, but she’s not Robin or Max. She’s one of the few people Eddie’s closest to, except for Dustin, who could easily give him more answers than Nancy probably could.

He’s spiralling. He’s biting his nails, picking his lips raw. His leg is bouncing erratically and the only thing that helps is pacing whatever room they’re in. Nancy’s still talking about Argyle’s newest pizza recipe when he finally breaks.

“Nancy, for fuck’s sake please just tell me what’s going on with Steve.” He reaches down for his smokes but his hand’s shaking, the pack gets caught on his pocket and falls to the ground. When he bends to pick them up, the lighter follows suit and bounces under the couch Nancy’s perched on. 

A manic laugh bubbles from the pit of his stomach as he drops to his knees. Eddie briefly wonders if he even wants answers or if he’s just punishing himself. He bends forward, letting his forehead rest against the hardwood floor, cool and grounding. 

Grabbing the smokes and lighter, he looks up to find Nancy’s eyebrows and nose all scrunched up, lips pursed. She’s looking at him exactly how he knew she would, full of pity and disappointment.

There’s something underneath the expression though that Eddie can’t quite pick out– anxiety, maybe. He wouldn’t have such a hard time reading her if he hadn’t been gone for almost a year. Another reminder added to the long list of his life-altering mistakes.

Eddie stands on unsteady legs, moving to the balcony for another smoke, with Nancy hot on his heels when there’s a knock on the front door. She shoots him an apologetic look, but he waves her off. He’s waited this long for answers, what’s another minute in misery.

When Eddie’s finished his smoke, he does his best to sneak back inside without being noticed. An unfamiliar voice calls him out.

“Oh, Nancy I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company!”

Eddie pokes his head around the corner to find Nancy standing next to a petite woman with dirty brown hair and thick platinum highlights, who’s dressed in an uncoordinated riot of colors and textures. Knee-high navy blue socks, tucked into tan polka dot flats, end just below the hem of her corduroy skirt. It’s a deep brown, matching the polka dots on her shoes, and the material’s so stiff it moves around her like a hoop skirt. She’s layered a puffy-sleeved periwinkle button up underneath a teal sweater vest.

It’s an odd assortment of colors, patterns, and textures that’s not quite artistic enough to be considered eclectic or interesting. Just bizarre and– if he’s being bitchy about it– a little boring. Eddie’s worn enough dramatic getups in his life, but beige isn’t doing this girl any favors.

The petite woman is blushing, eyebrow cocked in question, and Eddie realizes she’s been holding out her hand to him in greeting while he’s standing her silently judging her, like an asshole.

���Hi, you must be Nancy’s brother Eddie,” she says. Her voice is a light soprano, tonally off in an overly polite, customer service way. “I’m Becky.”

“Nice to meet you.” He finally manages to shake her hand, noticing they’re both wearing rings on each finger topped with chipped nail polish: his black and hers a sparkly baby blue. But while his rings are chunky and silver, hers are delicate gold bands stacked to varying thicknesses. “Umm how do you know Nance?”

“Oh, we met at work,” Becky says, smile widening. “Nancy’s told me all about you.”

“Hopefully just the good stuff.” Eddie tries for a joke, but her eyes tighten for the briefest moment.

“Yeah, she told me you were going to be back in town for a little while, I just thought you were coming tomorrow, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered you.” She glances toward Nancy, her smile straining further.

“No it’s alright, Nance and I were just catching up.” Nancy’s shuffling her feet, eyes darting between Becky, the floor, then Eddie, and back again. Becky is staring at her too, and Eddie’s not sure he’s ever seen Nancy this anxious. She looks completely checked out of the conversation.

He’s always suspected she’s been a bit embarrassed by him. Throughout school, he was the loud obnoxious troublemaker, and Nancy the wholesome straight A student. Every new school year, Nancy spent the first few weeks convincing her teachers that no, she’s not like her brother at all, thank you. Eddie played it off when he could, and has most of his life. But to see it now, so plainly written on her face, hurts more than he expected.

“She said you’re in a rock band?” Becky asks, attempting to fill the silence left in the wake of Nancy’s awkwardness. “Very glamorous.”

It sounds slightly sarcastic, but Eddie’s not sure if he’s just feeling overly defensive. “Playing and songwriting are by far the best part. The rest is just missing out on what’s waiting at home.”

“Mmm, so that’s why you’re in town then? Missing Chicago?” She seems genuinely sympathetic, but he can’t help puffing up like an angry cat at the drip of pity hanging from her lips.

“More like the people,” Eddie snaps. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. God forbid he has a panic attack in front of the first person Nancy introduces him to when he comes home. He’d really be living up to the nightmare older brother stereotype Nancy’s dealt with her entire life.

“Well then,” Nancy interrupts, clapping her hands together loudly causing both Becky and Eddie to flinch. “Thanks for dropping off my laptop, Becky, I really appreciate it.”

“Umm, no problem, Nance.” Becky eyes her warily, but takes the cue. She turns to Eddie to say their goodbyes as Nancy sees her out.

He heads towards the kitchen to get dinner started for the two of them. It’s almost ten minutes by the time Nancy makes her way back and her entire demeanor’s changed. Her spine’s straight with shoulders back, head held high, eyes steeled with resolve. A classic Nancy Wheeler I’m going to tackle this problem head on attitude, except it’s directed at him. Which is seriously not great.

But instead of saying anything, she pulls out the same kitchen stool Eddie had been perched on earlier and plops herself down, all without breaking eye contact. He assumes she’s got something to say, he can spot a Nancy lecture coming a mile away.

Once again, anxiety’s filling out space in his chest as he finishes cooking. They sit in relative silence on the living room couch while they eat, and all he can do is wait. Eddie wants to hear what she has to say, he wants answers, but he’s dreading it all the same. She’s upset with him, which he can’t hold against her. He deserves all of his family’s rage. That doesn’t mean he’s necessarily looking forward to it.

“Ok, ask me,” she states, setting the empty bowl down on the coffee table, turning fully face him. Leaning against the the armrest, she pulls one knee up to her chest while sticking her other foot right in Eddie’s lap. He matches her position, grabbing her ankle and plopping his own foot down beside her, hoping the small amount of contact will keep him grounded.

“Ask you, what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Eddie,” she says, “the entire reason you’re in Chicago isn’t to catch up with Jonathan or Mike or me.” Nancy’s chest deflates with a sigh, and Eddie’s heart breaks at the fact that she’s right. He hates himself for it, one more way he’s disappointed her. “He’s completely offline, the kids don’t post about him even though half of them have you blocked anyways. I know you probably did as much digging as you could and even though you hired a fucking private investigator– jesus christ Eddie–”

“That was only to find out where he lived, I swear.”

She scoffs, “Like that makes it any better.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, lifting one hand from her ankle to rub his eyes. “I’m sorry, keep going. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s ok,” she says, squeezing his leg. The small gesture loosens some of the building tension, and he relaxes his shoulders.

“The point is, you probably don’t know anything about what’s happened with over the thirteen months you’ve been gone. But, I just thought, if you’re going around looking for answers, it’s probably best for everyone if they come from me.”

She looks away from him then to stare out the window next to them, and Eddie can’t help but follow her gaze. The sun has long since set, the only light coming from the end table lamps on either side of them, and the street light across the way. Dark winter nights always left Eddie feeling a little hollow, a chill even the warmest blankets couldn’t chase away. A feeling only Steve could ease out of him. 

When he looks back at Nancy, she’s already looking back like she can read his mind. Except she’s chewing on her bottom lip, and when he meets her eyes, she can’t hold his gaze.

“Nance,” he says, confused at the sinking of his stomach, “why is it best if it comes from you? No offense, but you’re not necessarily as close to him as Max or Lucas, and they seemed pretty clammed up when they came around. Especially when they mentioned the fiance.” Eddie chokes around the word. Swallows around the dry bitterness coating his throat.

She squeezes his ankle again, except this time it’s too tight, her nails digging little moons into his skin. Like whatever she has to say will send him running, because everyone knows he’s a coward, will disappear exactly the same as before. It’s how he knows he’s still the same person as before– undeserving of the people he loves most– when her next words send a small shock through his system.

“Because I’m the one who set them up, Eddie. And I’m not sorry.”

~~~

Part 5

Tag List: @5ammi90

[emptytcwn]

“   well, if you told me you were opposed i'd be concerned you were recently concussed. no wise person would ever want to turn down an offer like that. you better not lose it if i give it to you. i don't need some insane axe murderer picking up a key to my place.   ”

“   i   mean   ,   why   not   ?   i   wouldn’t   be   opposed   to   that   .   i   wouldn’t   have   to   beg   out   in   the   cold   for   you   to   let   me   in   anymore   .   ”

[indelen]

This is me finally reaching the end of The Screaming Staircase in the great Lockwood and Co reread organized by @blue-boxes-magic-and-tea, I usually make a general summary of several chapters and then post bits and pieces that jumped out at me, but honestly, I don't have much to say here except that with some hindsight I'm amazed how much seeds of the further plots are laid down here in very subtle ways. Sometimes just a line or two.

Part V: Chapters 25-26

Again that seed of doubt, possibly spurred on my poor Annie Ward and her controlling relationship. This is the first of many times Lucy will be frustrated at Lockwood hiding things, doing things behind her back and in secret. From the beginning Lucy and Lockwood’s main conflict, which comes to a head in the 3rd book, is inevitable. Holly was just the final straw, the last symptom of a prolonged illness. If she didn’t come along some other argument would have boiled over to the same end.

See kids, this is why you don’t help work for cops.

The fascinating thing about Kipps is that he is, at the start of the book, in the highest possible position and has the best possible future of any kid who enters the agency system.

On paper.

On paper he survived being an agent, was recognized for his Talent and promoted, he was deemed valuable enough to be retained at Fittes as a supervisor after his Talent faded and his team is productive enough to be contracted out to DEPRAC. If it’s all written as a CV it looks quite impressive. But in reality all it really means is that Kipps has two sets of people treating him like garbage and barking orders at him. He answers to two sets of higher ups who could not care less if he and anyone in his charge lives or dies. And this is all dressed up as quite the honor, so Kipps doesn't really realize just how powerless, overworked and run into the ground he is.

Not yet.

Babies! Absolute children.

I get why they were aged up for the show but it was a bit jarring to see Cameron Chapman grab a beer from the fridge because in the book these are very clearly kids for whom the height of hedonism is binging on junk food Kevin McCallister style.

George is genuinely amazing because when did he manage to squirrel these away and how? But also, what I think is fascinating is that George asks Lucy’s opinion on something quite sincerely here, as one would a colleague. And Lucy … gives him a correct answer, she recognizes the sign! Because here’s the thing, Lucy was deprived of an education sure, but she’s not dumb. And as we later learn she’s quite artistic, she likes to draw. And if you’ve ever flipped through even one art book you would know how a Greek lyre looks like, even if you don’t know its exact name and meaning. And that is precisely the type of knowledge that Lockwood and Geroge would not have.

“Some flowers bloom

Where the green grass grows

Our praise is not for them

But the ones who bloom in the bitter snow

We raise our cups to them

We raise our cups and drink them up”

Gods give me strength, I will get to the symbolism of Stroud picking specifically the mythological Orpheus for this plotline of the book and how it relates to Lockwood … eventually.

I think from the start Lockwood kinda hopes that Lucy can talk to Type 3s. This matches with his attitude at the interview. I think he’s both terrified of Lucy’s ability to communicate and be so close emotionally and physically with ghosts (because of his own past) and sort of completely taken in and fascinated by it. It’s both similar and completely alien to what he can do. It would explain why he is always a bit aloof with her but always 100% has faith in her talents and is always by her side. It also explains why he doesn't process his feelings about her until much, much later.

Now girl, that’s not the way to talk about your future boyfriend.

Yes it was disappointing to see Skull on screen without his sass and much more of a spook jar but at the same time i can’t imagine how to thread this sort of needle in a live action adaptation. At the very least the more expressive, book loyal Skull would have cost a fortune to render with CGI. But I do miss him. Little gremlin shit disturber (affectionate).

I love this ending because it shows Lockwood and George, at last, as kids. Just two 14 year old boys laughing at the height of 14 year old boy humor - a rude story about nudity (I'm assuming the cut-happy US editor left the words as is and this is the UK “pants” which is actually “underpants” but please correct me someone with unexpurgated version if that is not the case).

Death in Life and Life in Death.

And Lucy chooses to go to them rather than stay with Skull. From cold into warmth, from darkness into light, from amongst death towards the living. The end of the series is already given to us, if we squint.

Final Lockwood smile count: 12!

Will Lucy beat her own record in The Whispering Skull? Stay tuned to find out!

[harvardfineartslib]

We had fun brainstorming for National Walking Day post yesterday, so here’s another one about walking. But we’re seeing some snow showers today here in Cambridge. Not a good day for walking. We can’t wait for the spring to arrive!

Francis Alÿs (b. 1959) is a Belgian-born, Mexico-based artist who creates a diverse body of artwork spanning from performance, social practice, video, and paintings. And walking has been an important element in his work throughout his career.

In 1991, Alÿs dragged a small magnetic toy dog on wheels throughout the streets of Mexico City to collect any metallic residue lying in its path (“The Collector”). In 1995, he took a walk after unravelling the sweater he has on, leaving an ever-lengthening, blue-thread trail in his wake. (“Fairy Tales”).

This small publication is a record of a unique series that has been described as a storyboard or archive of Alÿs’ oeuvre, polyptych of 111 paintings called le temps du sommeil. The intriguing images are paired with the words, or instructions, behind his past and future performances.

Le temps du sommeil Francis Alÿs ; catalogue editor, Catherine Lampert. Dublin : Irish Museum of Modern Art ; Milano : Charta, [2010] English HOLLIS number: 990123544680203941

[zvmz]

What EAH characters top 3 favorite movies would be according to me

Raven- The Princess Bride, The Village, 10 things I hate about you

Apple- Disney’s Snow White, Enchanted, The Princess Diaries

Briar- Mean Girls, Pitch Perfect, Clueless

Ashlynn- My Neighbor Totoro, Little Women, Moonrise Kingdom

Maddie- The Lego Batman Movie, Shrek 2, Ratatouille 

Cedar- Fantastic Mr Fox, Dead Poets Society, The Truman Show

Cerise- The Maze Runner, Inception, The Batman

Hunter- How to Train your Dragon, Wall-e, Good Will Hunting

Dexter- Revenge of the Sith, Monty Python and the quest for the holy grail, The perks of being a wallflower

Daring- Top Gun, Rocky, A Knights Tale

Darling- The Hunger Games, Oceans 8, Across the Spiderverse

Lizzie- The Devil Wears Prada, Cruella, Spencer

Kitty- Goodfellas, Donnie Darko, Coraline

Blondie- Legally Blonde, The Social Network, Elvis

Cupid- In The Mood For Love, Before Sunrise, Pride and Prejudice

Faybelle- Perfect Blue, Gone Girl, Jennifers Body

Melody- Baby Driver, Guardians of the Galaxy, Sucker Punch

Duchess- Black Swan (obvi), I Tonya, Phantom Thread

Sparrow- Whiplash, Fight Club, Se7en

Holly- The Notebook, Emma, The Titanic

Poppy- Moonlight, Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, Your Name

Alistair- Knives Out, (500) Days of Summer, Clue

Bunny- Lilo & Stitch, Enola Holmes, The Parent Trap

Ramona- Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, Scott Pilgrim vs The World, The Breakfast Club

Justine- Before Sunrise, Lost In Translation, Juno

Rosabella- Dead Poets Society, The French Dispatch, Spencer

Ginger- Encanto, Jojo Rabbit, Luca

Hopper- Kung Fu Panda, Hook, Forrest Gump

[archiesoniconline]

Sonic Universe Online #52 Behind The Scenes!

Hello, everyone!  Boy, it’s been a while since we’ve done one of these, huh?  But considering we finally managed to release this issue after its nightmarish production cycle, we decided that it was a good time to bring the “behind the scenes” posts back.  There’s a lot to talk about with this one, so get ready for a real doozy!

As usual, let’s start with the cover.  We wanted to have Bunnie and Scarlett as the focus, and RocketPOW! went through several drafts of what that would look like.  In the end, we settled on having them playing cards in the bar from Sonic Mania’s Mirage Saloon Zone to fit with the desert theme.  It’s also worth noting that we had Jack on the cover at one point but ultimately decided against it, since the story focuses more on his lackeys than himself.

Before we start on the actual story, I guess we should begin with the elephant in the room: Bunnie’s redesign.  Even though we technically first saw her new look in issue 51, we might as well go over it now.  Picking up from where the official comic left off, we knew that Bunnie had a redesign after being legionized, but the reboot happened before we ever got to see it.  And with the redesign of such an important character, obviously there was a lot of pressure to do her justice.  There was some old concept art by Tracy Yardley of legionnaire Bunnie, but we didn’t want to just take that and call it a day.  We had quite a field day with many of our talented artists coming up with their own interpretations of her redesign, including @miitoons, @riggo-draws, @drawloverlala, @fritzymagpies, Tim Campbell, CrimDa, DoNotDelete, and more that I sadly can’t remember anymore.  From the shape and function of her cybernetics, her overall color scheme, her clothing, her hairstyle, her weapons, etc., every last detail was meticulously gone over until we arrived at the final design taking what we liked most from each of them.

At first, we had gotten Tale to draw out the first several pages, and even though they were finished, he unfortunately had to step out of the issue and we had Gilgalad take over, better known as Thomas Rothlisberger, who we were lucky to have on the team before he moved on to the IDW Sonic comics.  For the sake of consistency (lol), we unfortunately had to scrap Tale’s pages so he could redo those as well.

Holly’s sickness isn’t elaborated on in the actual story, but the gist is that she’s a snow leapord who was roboticized during the First Robotnik War.  But after the Bem deroboticized her while she was in the desert, her body became sick due to being stuck in the inhospitable environment, which is an example of how misplaced many of the former Robians were being sent far out of their natural habitats, and losing the protection of their robot bodies was actually a detriment.

A Sonic fan with a good eye for detail may notice that the guard who takes over watching Bunnie after Scarlett is actually one of the unnamed members of Infinite’s Jackal Squad from the Sonic Forces prequel comic.  Since this cameo may or may not go anywhere in regards to Infinite in ASO, we opted against using Infinite himself since he’s too important of a character to pass off as a mere cameo.  If you want this plot thread to be expanded upon, let us know!

Since this is where we introduce Holly and her relationship with Scarlett, it’s as good a time as any to discuss the process of their creation.  With Scarlett, we wanted to introduce a character who would serve as a foil to Bunnie, another person struggling due to their bedridden lover, but with diametrically-opposed views regarding cybernetics.  Her design was actually taken from a random Sand Blaster who appeared in a single panel of StH #218, who we decided to turn into a full-fledged character.  Although her species was unknown during her single appearance, we decided to make her a fennec fox.  On the other hand, Holly was an entirely new design that we came up with for the story.  The LGBT aspect of their relationship was actually the idea of my editor for the issue, The Shadow Imperator.  I stated in the interview after the issue that I was the one who came up with their names, but that’s not the whole truth.  There was a whole team effort dedicated to naming the two of them, before I suggested Scarlett since there was an abandoned plot point about how Bunnie’s true name was at one point planned to be Scarlett O’Hare.  Our Scarlett’s full name is Scarlett O’Fenn, with ShadImp being the one to suggest adding the last name as well.  But since her last name didn’t come up in the story, I apologize for forgetting to mention it.  Holly was also one of several names I came up with, which was agreed on due to the sort of “snowy” feel it has to it.

In my initial draft for Scarlett and Holly’s conversation, I wrote Holly as being more openly pessimistic about her condition, outright stating that Scarlett would be better off if she was gone.  But since that seemed rather inconsiderate to Scarlett’s feelings, ShadImp suggested that I tone it down a little and have her only mention feeling like a burden.  He was also the one to suggest that I make sure their romantic relationship is mentioned as explicitly as possible, so there would be no room for ambiguity that might lessen the impact of their sexual orientation.

Scarlett taking off her hat here wasn’t actually in the script I wrote, but it was a smart move by Gilgalad, showing her letting her guard down around the one person she can afford to do so with.  To put it simply, Scarlett offers Holly physical support while Holly offers Scarlett emotional support, so neither one is one-sidedly supporting the other.  This scene also demonstrates that even though Scarlett is easily the most level-headed and compassionate Sand Blaster we’ve seen so far, some of the old bigotries and prejudice against cyborgs and robots that Jack instilled into her still remain.

Gilgalad had actually already penciled out the next couple pages, but since he wasn’t able to stick around for the full story, we decided that that the end of Scarlett and Holly’s scene was a good cutoff point for the drastic shift in art style.  Red Rabbit is an amazing artist with a style very similar to Patrick Spaziante, but it is still a jarring shift compared to most other artists on the project.  I had also originally written Bunnie mentioning not being very good at undercover missions, but when ShadImp brought up her successful operation tricking Battle Lord Kukku I changed the script to have her mention that instead.

At first, I was planning for the poker scene to have the characters holding cards that reflected their position in the conversation, such as holding a winning hand when they have the upper hand in the argument.  But since I have absolutely no knowledge or experience with poker, that idea ultimately didn’t come through in the final story.  This scene also serves to flesh out the Sand Blasters and show that none of them are blindly loyal to Jack.  Tex obviously has his own agenda, Avery just goes along with whatever’s the least troublesome, Shift wants to get his hands on new technology, and Jolt does genuinely want the city to open up to the rest of the world.

You may have noticed that instead of rocket feet like her old design, Bunnie now flies with a removable jet pack on her back.  If you’re wondering how that wouldn’t burn her tail off, it was specifically designed so that the fire trails would shoot aiming away from her tail.

Originally, during the car chase sequence Bunnie’s jet pack was just written to malfunction for no real reason.  But eventually, I decided to give it a more interesting explanation by adding in hints that Shift may have intentionally sabotaged it to trip up Bunnie, only to reveal that he was actually trying to fix it and he didn’t betray her after all.  This was also the portion of the story where Ink Pants took over for pencils, and then Lav after him.  Even though they’re all fine artists in their own right, hopefully this will be the last time that we need to include so many drastic changes in art style to illustrate a single story.

We almost had one more shift in art style, with @gendeerfluid​ penciling the last page.  In the end, Lav managed to finish that one as well, giving us a massive cliffhanger both figuratively and literally in the form of Jun Kun, the Iron King.

That’s about it for this one, folks!  Thanks for sticking with us all this time, and look forward to the conclusion of this story next issue.  Until then, keep on juicin’!

[there-was-a-hole-here-itsgonenow]

Was thinking about Holly and how suspiciously interesting her character is when you think about her appearances in the show. Particularly meaningful focuses too, like her scene with the flickering lights and demogorgon in “Holly, Jolly,” her clearly feeling something wasn’t right when looking down on the trees from the Ferris wheel in s3 (that one fascinates me), her lightbrite scene in s4, and the fact that she utters the last words for s4: that “it’s snowing” outside.

There’s a lot to be said and I’ve seen it analyzed very deeply before. I haven’t rediscovered that awesome thread again yet. But regardless! I want to also leave a little tidbit of info about her name because maybe it could possibly indicate something for s5. Holly derives from the Middle High German holen, holn, from Old High German holōn, holēn -> meaning “to fetch, get, draw.” And from the Proto-Germanic hulōną, hulēną -> meaning “to summon, call, fetch.”

-

@stranger-chichka @aemiron-main and @wibble-wobbegong I’d love to know what any of you think about this—if you think it holds potential significance!

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

For the Christmas ask: 🌲 Winter Solstice (Normal timeline or Modern AU or Medieval AU)

Glorfindel/Ecthelion ~ Normal Timeline or Modern AU

Smut not required, not opposed.

Pairing: Glorfindel x Echthelion

Themes: Soft / NSFW

Warnings: Kissing | Teasing/Innuendo

Wordcount: 900+ words

Summary: After the city of Gondolin is established, the elves that live within its walls prepare to celebrate their first proper winter solstice.

Minors DNI | 18+ | You are responsible for the media you consume

It was a strange thing to wake up to sunlight and look out into a world covered in blinding white. And on this morning, the sun was but a pale disk obscured by thick clouds. Still, this was their life now, and Glorfindel, much like all those who dwelled within Gondolin, was determined to make the most of it.

Now that the city was well settled, its manses and walls completed, the elves of Gondolin made the most of their free time and decorated their halls and their city as they saw fit. Sprigs of evergreen trees and bright red berries hung over windows and doors, adding splashes of color against the chilling white of walls and columns and snow. More hung on the little bridges that dotted the city. The flowers had withered and would not be seen again until the days warmed again. The trees were bare of all leaves, save for the holly that defied the cold.

Glorfindel drew his pelt tighter and departed his home. The wind had died down considerably, and the snowfall had stopped. It was perfect for a stroll; the weather was clear, and the light of day was weak but welcomed.

“The king has called everyone to the square.” Echthelion came upon his companion. He was equally bundled up in thick furs to ward off the cold. “His herald said little else.”

“Let us not tarry then.” Glorfindel slipped his arm around Echthelion’s while they made their way around other elves. They all talked of the herald’s message and what it could mean. Some suggested one thing, others suggested something entirely else. Excitement rippled and grew as they neared the square and the king came forth to address his people.

There would be new traditions, he said, to celebrate this season and what the elders were now calling the winter solstice. On the longest night, which was but two days away, there would be a great feast in the assembly hall. All those who wished to do so could come. There would be winter games that day and the planting of a holly sapling in the square, and storytelling in the evening, after logs were brought back to warm the hall. Then the king called an end to the gathering and returned to the palace.

Echthelion and Glorfindel talked incessantly about the return home. Who would win the games? What would the games even be? Would there be wagers? Gifts?

“Knowing the lords, each House will put their name down for a gift." Echthelion led them down a path that threaded around the city’s gardens. “But who would win in the end?”

“I do not know.” Glorfindel closed his eyes and took a deep breath of cold, bracing air. Wicked humor surged through him, and he said, “But between the both of us, I would wager on myself winning.”

“You most certainly will not!” Echthelion was far from impressed. “For I would be the one to emerge the victor, and not you.”

“Would you care to put your bold declaration to the test?” Glorfindel challenged.

"Yes." Echthelion stopped and narrowed his eyes. “But how?”

“With a race,” Glorfindel suggested, and then ran. Echthelion muttered an oath and raced after him, his boots kicking up snow while he ran to catch up with his companion, determined as ever.

Glorfindel laughed and looked over his shoulder. Echthelion was not far behind. He picked up his feet and ran faster. They ran past other elves going about their day, Glorfindel still laughing, Echthelion resolute.

“Do you still think you could best me, my love?” Glorfindel cried and turned down another path. When he did so, an opportunity presented itself to Echthelion, for Glorfindel had to take care while running down a flight of steps. He lunged at him, knocking him over. Both elves fell onto the soft snow beneath them with barely a sound.

“Of course I can best you, my love." Echthelion declared and smiled even as he struggled to pin Glorfindel’s arms over his head. “When you are not making use of underhanded means to win, that is.”

Glorfindel continued to laugh and broke free of Echthelion’s hold. He squirmed and moved, taking Echthelion with him. In the blink of an eye, it was Glorfindel sitting astride Echthelion, with the latter pinned beneath him. Glorfindel dragged a finger across Echthelion’s cheek and drank in the flush of pink that bloomed in its wake.

“I do not hear you complaining about my underhanded means now,” he observed, and a smile spread across his countenance when Echthelion blushed furiously.

“I could say a great many things concerning your underhanded means." Echthelion sighed softly when Glorfindel traced a finger over his lips. “But I am certain none of them should ever be uttered in the open.”

“A pity, really,” Glorfindel whispered, “for I love hearing you utter such things. It drives me into a frenzy."

Echthelion flushed again, then closed his eyes when Glorfindel leaned down and kissed him. The kiss was a reflection of Glorfindel’s mood: his exhilaration, his longing. Then he drew Echthelion up with him, trembling. Perhaps it was from the cold. Perhaps it was from something darker and more enticing. Glorfindel still relished it, swallowing the soft sound that followed with his next kiss. Then he heard laughter and footsteps nearing them. He drew away and looked over his shoulder.

There were elves further up the path, but they had not seen them. Still, he did not wish for them to be found like this, so he helped Echthelion to his feet.

“Shall we continue this behind closed doors?” He entreated.

More than a little lightheaded himself, Echthelion agreed.

[imagoddamnonionmason]

Holidays at the Mason Home: Chapter 3 - Humble Abode

Fandom: Call of Duty

Word Count: 1894

Relationships: Frank Woods x Bell OC, Alex Mason x OC

Characters: Frank Woods, Alex Mason, Bell OC,

Summary: Bell meets Alex's wife.

A/N: ok so I did some research just to make sure my assumption about Christmas basically not being a thing in Soviet Russia, due to the Soviet Union. I was right. The Soviet Union basically said 'no Christmas is bad. no religion'. I'd recommend going and looking it up if this interests you, 'cause I don't wanna hound y'all with a history lesson-

It was half past midnight when the three of them managed to park the pickup and escape into the heat of the home, which had steps leading up to the front door. On it was a wreath of holly, pinecones and red berries brought together with a red ribbon and golden thread. Sometimes, Bell forgot that it was the time of year where people celebrated Christmas, as she had never really done such a thing. Maybe as a child, but from her teen years and onward, the whole thing was deemed nothing more than a distraction the west built up and up on; the usual schtick that her then comrades would discuss in order to villainise just about every aspect of a society that didn’t hold their ambitious ideologies.  

Mason unlocked the door, allowed his friends to step inside first, then turned his eyes to the outside. He scanned, checked everywhere he might expect to find something amiss and when he was satisfied he turned in. He barely had time to take a breath before the stairs light was on and he was being interrogated. 

“What time do you call this? I thought something had happened. Has something happened?” 

Sarah, for all the good that she was, was a worrier. Her fraught lashings always came from a place of deep caring and it was this knowledge that Mason used to cool down the heat of annoyance whenever she got irate. He found her standing a few steps up on the stairs, wrapped warmly in a dressing gown and slippers on her feet. He doubted that their arrival had woken her from sleep, but rather that she had remained awake. 

“Everything’s fine, go to bed.” He offered, “I’ll show these two where they’re staying.” 

“Did you tell them about the room?” She asked, finding another reason to remain. 

Woods and Bell stood silently, having removed their wet boots and removed their winter wear, hanging them on the hooks nestled at the front door. It was clear now that they were edging into tiredness, but neither of them would say it. 

“I didn’t,” Mason admitted.

“Right…” Sarah huffed, rubbing her puffy eyes, “well, why don’t I show them, and you sort out Maximus because the dog won’t come inside and I swear we’ll never find him under all that snow in the mornin’. He never listens to me.” 

Putting his hands up, Mason slowly backed into the hallway that headed to the kitchen, offering his wife a soft smile, “alright, just go to bed after, I’ll sort it.” 

She nodded, wiping her eyes again. Bell could see that she was utterly drained, her skin a little pale and eyes darkened with circles. She wasn’t quite ill looking, but she did look like she was carrying the weight of the world on her frail shoulders. Then, she gestured to the two of them, a sweeping motion with her hand, and invited them to follow her upstairs. 

“Come on, we’ll get y’all settled in,” she offered a warm smile and though it fought to reach her eyes, it couldn’t quite succeed in its endeavour. Woods let Bell go first, taking the rear as he nodded goodnight to Mason. They had shared a look, which Mason had waved him off as nothing to worry about regarding Sarah.

Woods had always found it a little bit annoying how worried she could be, but not because it was her but because of the trait in general; he couldn’t stand to be worried over and, at times, Sarah worried herself out of solutions for the things she worried about - it all seemed pointless and Woods hated inaction. But, she and Mason had their way of dealing with her anxieties, ways that Woods felt he could never quite grasp. He remembered once making her worse when he tried to calm her down. 

He’d never do that again. 

“So, we didn’t have time to finish the other room before you came,” Sarah began, her voice just above a whisper, “David wasn’t very well and other things, so it just got left until the last minute, and then the last minute wasn’t long enough. That means you two are going to have to share the other spare bedroom. There’s a cot in there, but also a double, so… decide between yourselves who gets the comfy bed and who doesn’t. Unless you’re… sharin’?” 

Sarah had looked over her shoulder, a slight glint of hope in her eyes when she asked the question and it caught Woods off guard. He knew exactly what she was implying, but refused to think on it further, unless he wanted to give himself a headache. 

Bell threw her brows up in surprise, lips pursed in question, “why would we share?” 

“Oh, no reason, it’s only an option,” Sarah urged, quickly regaining an air of innocence about her. She would admit that it was a shame to find that the two were not together and she’d tell her husband as such when he’d finally decide to roll into bed beside her later. 

Once at the designated room, Sarah opened the door and let them venture in, flicking the dull light on in the room, a singular bulb with a cream cover hanging from the ceiling. Her voice was erring on the side of teasing, as she bid them goodnight, “behave, you two.” 

Then, the door closed, and it was just them. 

“Behave? What does she think we are, teenagers?” Woods puffed, nose scrunched slightly in his irk. Bell merely shook her head, patting his shoulder before dumping her bag on the end of the double bed. The sheets were pristine white, with the occasional flower patterned along a seam, as well as ruffles that cascaded to the floor all around the perimeter. Four pillows nestled at the head of the bed, the headboard was a cream colour, the fabric velveteen and adorned with buttons in a diamond pattern across its body. 

Then, there was the cot, which looked like it had crawled from the depths of the jungle, gasping for freedom. They had definitely tried to make it more comfortable than what it was, with a sleeping bag, blankets, and a plush pillow.

David even left his bear on the pillow, Woods thought. 

“So, which do you want?” Bell asked, watching Woods with tired eyes. Her tone was enervated, heavy, as though sleep was encroaching on her mind quickly. 

“Take the bed,” he ordered, “you wouldn’t survive on the cot.” 

Her features soured with a look of derision, but she didn’t respond to him. Instead, she hovered in place, eyes watching the same spot of scuffed fabric on her duffel bag, lost in thought. Thoughts of events earlier in the night, of things said and things done, and how easy some of them had come to her. Of course, their camaraderie had meant that she would throw herself on a grenade if the time called for it, if it had ever called for it, as that’s what you would do for those you fought alongside with. 

So, turning on the man that would dare threaten the integrity of either Woods or Mason had been the right thing to do. In anyone else’s eyes, they were veterans of a war they were forced to fight and deserved respect. But, to ease into a character such as a wife, a lover, that had been the surprise; she had never thought about anyone in such a way, really only using the prospect of romance to earn something in return, to manipulate. None of her connections in the past had been of a genuine sort, well, all except one. However, she had buried those memories so deeply that she feared they had fossilised. 

Anyway, she was left to wonder why she was uprooted by this display of affection between her and Woods. It was that which she couldn’t make sense of and it left a bad taste in her mouth. 

“Hey, you still with me?” A hand waved in front of her face and when she broke free of her stupor, Woods stood by her, expertly hiding the concern on his face. 

“Why did you go with it? You could have told that guy the truth,” she asked. 

“You’re still on with that?” Woods raised an eyebrow, before moving to pull his shirt over his head. His arms then rested against his stomach, the appendages momentarily trapped by the item of clothing, as he thought about his answer. 

Bell looked away, quickly. 

“Why not?” That was what he settled on. After all, there was no point in mincing words; Woods had felt no need to explain to a fucking idiot the measure of his relationship with Bell. If the Cliff guy wanted to believe that they were married, well that’s on him. Woods didn’t go around correcting people’s assumptions about him, good or bad, because Woods didn’t give a shit.

“It’s like you didn’t even think about it,” she admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed. Woods soon discarded the shirt onto the cot, hands on his hips, chest open as he took a deep breath. 

Had his decision upset her that badly? Shit. 

“Does it bother you?” He eventually asked, feeling like he was dancing on knives. 

He hated that. 

“No.” 

“Then what’s the issue?” 

She should have anticipated it would turn onto her. 

“There isn’t one,” she chided, folding her arms over her chest. 

Well, maybe just the fact that it leaves me feeling vulnerable, emotionally, and she was not used to that. 

“Good,” Woods almost seemed to smile at this, but he turned his back to her, rummaging through his belongings before she could venture to gauge his features and their tells. 

A beat. 

“Thanks, for putting that guy in his place,” his voice was muffled as he pulled a vest over his head, hair becoming messy as his head popped back into view, “people like him really fucking piss me off.” 

“Forget about him. He doesn’t know what it’s like for people like us.” She offered, as she too began to undress, “they want to make it out to be about choice. They think it’s about being good, or being bad. I’ll be damned if I ever knew I had one.” 

After all, in war the only choices available are to kill or be killed. To take the bloodied knife that had just killed your friend and plunge into the backs of your enemies, less they use it against you. In her time, all choices were out of reach. It was yessir, no sir, three bags full sir, fucking we have a job to do, Bell. 

Her nails were digging into her palms and it was the pain that brought her back to her senses. 

Woods quietly regarded that point and came to the conclusion that he couldn’t have worded it better - Vietnam had taken its toll on a lot of people, but try as it might, that place had failed to create a corpse of him and drag him to the depths. 

He’d crawled out of that hellhole just to spite those who had put him there. 

“Fucking A,” he muttered, after a moment. 

That was seemingly it for the night’s conversation and the two got into their beds. Sleep eventually took them, though they slept lightly throughout the night.

[fandom-collective-writers]

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution Pairing: Jonah Clemence x female!Reader/MC Rating/Warnings: SFW; Jonah-centric POV; fluff with some angst (resolved) Word Count: 2400-ish Written by: @yanjam Prompt: A and B argue over the appropriate times to put up and take down holiday decorations

Jonah’s carriage came to a creaking stop in front of the Black Army headquarters. He saw his brother’s familiar figure waiting for him just beyond the main gates. After murmuring some instructions for the driver to wait for his return, he stepped down and huddled deeper into the plush lining of his coat. The biting cold wind felt like needles scratching at his skin.

Luka fell into step beside him as they both walked in silence towards the main building. Jonah noticed the spruce trees that lined the snowy pathway were decorated with silver bows. There were tasteful holiday tapestries hanging from balconies and windows on the higher floors. Twinkling fairy lights wrapped around vibrant green garlands that hung above the door and window frames. 

“I’m surprised the Black Army is capable of such niceties,” he said half-heartedly, a weak attempt at an insult. Luka ignored him and led him up the front steps and they paused in front of the door, stomping the snow off their boots. Jonah glanced at the elaborate wreath hanging in front of him. The giant black bow tied at the bottom of the wreath looked like it was made from real silk. The embroidery was made of glittery silver thread. Luka pushed the door open and moved aside to let Jonah enter first.

It took a surprising amount of willpower to stop the audible gasp that caught at the back of Jonah’s throat. He stared wide-eyed at the entrance hall that was brilliantly lit with candles. Garlands of holly and pine wrapped around the staircase banister leading to the second floor. Similar to the exterior, black and silver bows and twinkling fairy lights decorated the doorways. An enormous Christmas tree stood in the large sitting room nearby. Large glass and ceramic ornaments hung off the branches while strings of colourful lights wrapped around the tree. The only thing missing was a tree topper.

Jonah pulled his scarf loose as he walked around slowly, scrutinizing every detail of the transformation that had taken place here. He wouldn’t call the Black Army headquarters decrepit, but from his few visits in the past he remembered it was normally utilitarian and bland. The Red Army headquarters, although regal and elegant in its own right, had yet to be decorated for the holiday season and was clearly outdone.

Luka must have read his thoughts in the expression on his face because he offered his brother a mysteriously smug smile. “I think we have the Red Army beat this year,” he said. He motioned for Jonah to follow him and they slowly circled the tree. Up close, Jonah could see that the Black Army officers had their own custom-made ornaments hanging proudly from the branches. The officers had hand-sewn snowmen crafted in their likeness. One wore the same hat and cloak as Ray, another had a belt with pistol holders similar to Fenrir. There were several personalized ornaments with the names of other prominent Black Army soldiers too. The elaborate writing on the ornaments was familiar to him.

Jonah felt something sink in the pit of his stomach as realization washed over him. “I suppose you had help planning all this since I doubt your uncouth lot could come up with half these ideas on your own,” he said bitterly, the awe he felt only moments ago turning sour in his mouth.

“Of course we did. Alice has so many wonderful talents, wouldn’t you agree?” Fenrir’s voice echoed cheerily from somewhere above him. Jonah heard several pairs of footsteps descend the stairs nearby and he turned to face them, hackles rising. The unexpected invitation from his brother was beginning to feel like a trap.

“Perhaps she could help liven up the Red Army headquarters as well?” Seth suggested with an innocent tone that fooled no one.

“Oh, wait,” Fenrir said with a drawl, “she already tried that, didn’t she?”

Jonah glared at the Ace of Spades who stood at the bottom of the staircase with his hands on his hips and a triumphant smile on his face. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, however - they glinted with something menacing.

Sirius put his hand on Fenrir’s shoulder and squeezed. It would’ve looked friendly if Fenrir didn’t wince in pain. “Despite how clearly he doesn’t deserve her, we know that Jonah would never hurt Alice knowingly. Isn’t that right?” The older man’s question was laced with an unspoken threat. Jonah bristled with indignation at the accusation.

“If you’re all done posturing, I’ve finished the ornament for the top of the tree if you’d like to see it,” a child’s voice said nearby. Jonah glanced wearily at Oliver who was wiping his hands on a handkerchief. He looked almost comical with his sleeves rolled up and a startling amount of glitter and pine needles stuck in his hair. The Black Army officers hurried past him, their excited voices fading away down the hall. “And then we can help you figure out how to fix this little misunderstanding with Alice,” he said, giving Jonah a pointed look before leaving the room expectantly. 

“Isn’t it a bit early to be decorating for Christmas?” he had asked Alice one morning when he saw she had hung a wreath on their bedroom door. The fall harvest celebrations had just ended, and the weather was still mild. Her face fell for a brief moment before she smiled at him, nodding her apparent agreement. By the end of the day, the subject was long forgotten from Jonah’s mind. She never brought it up again.

If someone told Jonah his thoughtless question would provoke his darling Alice enough to turn the Black Army headquarters into a winter wonderland, he wouldn't have believed it. Caught up in the frenzied schedule of the holiday season, he failed to realize how much time she had spent here rather than at the Red Army headquarters. He despised the idea that his brother and the Black Army fools were able to soothe her disappointment in him by giving her a place to nurture her excitement for the holidays. Surrounded by the evidence of his failure, he realized that the wreath on their bedroom door had quietly disappeared without him even noticing.

In the large workshop Oliver had commandeered for himself, the Black Army officers were huddled around a table, watching the tree topper he’d made slowly rotate on a mechanical base. On the outside, it looked like an ordinary star shape made of stained glass. Somehow, Oliver’s invention shot out little puffs of real snow accompanied by bells that chimed a loop of different Christmas melodies. Oliver said something about the not-so-legal use of magic crystals to keep the mechanical device inside the ornament filled with water and able to conjure snow at specific timed intervals.

Jonah felt like an intruder as he watched the officers nearby collect the ornament and run off, eager to add the finishing touch to their tree. He slumped over at a nearby workbench, elbows on the table, head in his hands. He’s not sure how much time had passed, but he felt a small poke in his side. He glanced at the child who sat beside him.

“I knew Christmas was her favourite holiday, but I didn’t expect…” he trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the boxes that lined Oliver’s workspace, filled to the brim with unused decorations, “…all of this.” 

“Do you really hate decorating that much?” Oliver asked. Not judging, simply curious.

Jonah shook his head. “With all of our other duties taking priority, updating our seasonal decor is usually done closer to the holiday itself. It’s my own fault I didn’t talk to her about it properly as soon as she showed an interest in it.” He looked away, attempting to hide the shamed flush staining his cheeks. “I hate that I made her feel like I wouldn't want this for us too.”

Oliver snorted and hopped up from his seat. “You’re an idiot if you think all these decorations are only for the Black Army,” he said as he pulled a random ornament from an open box and tossed it to Jonah. It was a red bow with Zero’s name embroidered with gold thread. “I think she was waiting for you to be more receptive to the idea, so she’s been making everything and storing it all here. If you want to make up for your stupidity," he said with a smirk, "I’d appreciate your help getting all these boxes out of my workshop and taking them where they belong.”

Jonah thought for a moment before he finally smiled. “If you’ll put up with the intrusion for a bit longer, I have a favor to ask of you and Blanc.”

Jonah paced in the entrance hall of the Red Army headquarters as he watched Alice’s carriage grow smaller in the distance. As promised, Oliver recruited Blanc’s help in luring Alice away early that morning, using some ruse about finalizing celebrations planned in the Central Quarter.

Once she was out of sight, Jonah left with his group of volunteer soldiers to retrieve the boxes of decorations from the Black Army. One of Jonah’s many other tasks that day was securing the largest tree he could find that would reasonably fit in the Red Army hall and arranging for its delivery. He ordered different potted trees, poinsettias, and other festive plants with extras to spare. He was not going to let his plans be side swept by miscalculations on his part.

One task Jonah did not enjoy was explaining his sudden urgency to overhaul the Red Army headquarters within the short window of Alice’s absence. The other Red Army officers laughed at his clumsy rebuke of Alice’s early decorating for the holidays which somehow led to a clandestine makeover of the Black Army’s base of operations. Jonah framed the daunting task as a competition since he knew most of the Red Army soldiers wouldn’t dare back away from a challenge if their pride was on the line.

Once all of the boxes had been delivered and unloaded into the main hall, the officers began sorting through them with obvious appreciation of Alice’s beautiful decorations. The King of Hearts personally took over the task of organizing the exterior displays and installing the new greenery. Jonah watched with dwindling patience as the others bickered over who should get to decorate the tree. He told them to figure it out amongst themselves with as little bloodshed as possible and left the room. When he returned ten minutes later, Edgar stood proudly beside the tree, hardly a hair out of place, with boxes of ornaments and lights opened and ready at his feet.

“How did you convince Blanc to keep Alice away for the entire day?” Edgar asked as he struggled to untie a knotted ball of string lights. No one wanted to risk her early return which would ruin the surprise.

“I suggested she take some of the carrot recipes she’d been saving as part of his Christmas gift,” Jonah’s voice replied from behind the Christmas tree. He had climbed up a ladder and was hanging decorations on the higher branches.

Edgar laughed - it was a clever idea on Jonah’s part. Blanc loved anything carrot-related and would spend the entire day in the kitchen taste-testing if time allowed it. “If that’s the case, then we’ll be lucky if Blanc doesn’t just keep her overnight,” Edgar teased. He ducked his head when a golden bauble came soaring at him from Jonah’s direction.

You stood in front of the large doors, stunned by what you were seeing. You first noticed the new brightly-lit trees that lined the path on your return journey home across the Red Bridge. You recognized many of your decorations hanging from the balconies and windows above you. The giant wreath on the front door had two ornamental birds made of felt nested side-by-side on a branch of holly. The red silk ribbon had Merry Christmas embroidered in beautiful golden script. You had only finished making it a week ago; the pine smell was still so fresh.

After a few moments, the doors opened wide and Jonah’s beaming smile greeted you. He had changed out of his uniform and was wearing a simple cream button-up shirt with a red scarf tied around his neck. He took your hands gently in his and led you through the elaborately decorated entranceway. Somewhere nearby a Christmas carol chimed; apparently Oliver had made two identical tree topper ornaments without you knowing.

You didn't know where to look first. You didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry that we couldn’t share this experience sooner than this, because of my own ignorance,” Jonah said quietly, remorsefully, “but I promise to try not to disappoint you so gravely in the future.” You could hear the truth in his voice and saw his eyes were bright and pleading as they stared into your own.

You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him. You felt his hands grasp your waist and pull you closer to him in response. You nuzzled his chest, soaking in his warmth and comforting scent. Your eyes felt hot with tears but when you looked up at him, your smile was wide and full of love. “I’ll forgive you if you give me the grand tour - I want to see the tree!” Your growing excitement was a soothing balm for the lonely disappointment you tried so hard to hide from him all this time.

You and Jonah held hands as he led you from room to room, eager to show you the efforts of a very long day's work. Along the way, Red Army soldiers stopped you to compliment your decorations and thanked you for your generosity. Some of them told you stories about how all the officers had asked for volunteers to help and how Jonah watched every step with a critical eye to make sure no decoration went unused.

Kyle congratulated you when he walked past you both, a red ribbon tied in his hair and a bottle tucked under an arm. Edgar found the pair of you as you were leaving Lance's office. He told you where he’d placed the stockings you’d made for each of the officers. He suggested that Jonah’s stocking be stuffed full of coal - the bauble incident from earlier was clearly not forgotten.

Eventually the hour grew late and exhaustion was finally starting to overtake the happiness you felt. Jonah smiled knowingly and steered you to the familiar hallway leading to your room. He found the wreath you made for and returned it to its rightful place on your bedroom door. Your names were embroidered on the silk ribbon, a memento of your first Christmas together.

“If you’ll permit me, I have one final surprise for you,” Jonah said with a twinkle in his eye. You admired the way his cheeks flushed in the dimming light. It was so adorable when he got flustered about something.

“I’m not sure I can handle anymore surprises after the evening I’ve had,” you said with a laugh as he pushed the door open then pulled you close to him.

“There’s one last holiday tradition that I refuse to overlook,” he said with surprising seriousness, his voice low and tinged with heat. He nodded his chin upwards. You followed his gaze and saw a sprig of mistletoe hanging in the doorway above you. He silenced your delighted laughter with a kiss.

[pink-writer-girl]

Remembrance of Yule

Secret Santa I did for KittchenKAT

In a small village, residents gathered around to prepare for their upcoming festivities. Joyful laughter and chattering bounced off the stone town square. They dressed street lamps with pine cones and holly as streamers made from pine needles, cranberries, and ribbons hung from post to post. And in the center of the Town stood an enormous pine tree, for handmade ornaments hung with care. Comprising different pine cones, ribbons, homemade candles, dried citrus and cranberries.

As snow fell gently, residents added their ornaments to the tree, creating a beautiful sparkle in the candle and light flames. The children were especially eager. Either their parents were helping them hang up the ornaments by picking them up or they were playing in the snow, making snowmen or having snowball fights. We're getting eager by the huge Yule log cake that the other adults brought out onto a dining table they had placed in the middle of the square.

One figure in a cloak, walking down the Town square, hiding her colorful clothes under the cloak, trying to bundle up to keep warmth. The figure turned their head slightly, which made their hood drop slightly enough to allow strands of red hair to blow in the wind. The drow woman closed her eyes and enjoyed the pleasant smells in the air.

She Couldn't help but smile fondly, gazing upon the scene, especially the children playing. It reminded her of the happy times she had with her family during Yule when she was younger. They used to play in the snow and throw snowballs at each other. Her heart filled with love, thinking of her little brothers. It overjoyed her on the day she became a big sister. Even though she had caring older brothers, they were often busy with their responsibilities, giving her little attention.

Kiera Theen's family always stayed together during the holidays. Her mother would weave sweaters to keep them warm while her brothers brought in firewood for dinner. The father would bring in the packages of presents wrapped in brown paper tied with thread and with pine cones for decoration. Her mother would complain that he had bought too many, but she had always been daddy’s girl that he would love to spoil.

She missed her mother's roasted chestnuts and making ornaments with her mother and little brothers to hang on the tree they had in the center of their tribe. She longed for times like these... for someone had taken everything away from her. Before she had to go on the run for her life.

Could no longer work at the festivities. She twisted away, shielding her tears.

“Oh miss, are you new in town?” A kind old voice said, making her look to see an old bearded man.

“Not from these parts, are you?” He asked.

“Passing through…” she replied softly but curtly.

“We're doing a celebration for Yule,” he said, gesturing to the Townsfolk.

With a gentle smile, he reassured her that many travelers were welcome.

Kiera theen brought up her hand at this “no no it's not that, it's just-I don't stay at places to… safer for everyone that way,” she replied with a sad smile.

“I better go now, enjoy your holiday,” she said as she disappeared down the town and away from the square.

Praying to Avandra silently to protect her on this journey she would once again take upon by herself.

-Fin

[dismaltouch]

“ if it was the winter i might be a little more sympathetic towards that, ” she was bluffing, she wouldn't leave him out on the streets at any time of the year, she just wanted to see what else she could get him to say. grin tugged at her lips as he told her something she actually wanted to hear, step taken towards the other. “ you got me stuck inside your head snow ? hmm ? want me all to yourself ? ”

“   ‘cause   ...   i   have   nowhere   else   to   go   .   ”   he   doesn’t   like   this   ,   having   to   beg   ,   though   he’s   sure   she’s   enjoying   it   .   “   and   i   can’t   fucking   get   you   out   of   my   head   .   i   don’t   know   what   you   do   to   me   .   ”

[invisibleraven]

Haunted Holidays

December 18: Christmas Market <-AO3 link!

Julie wasn’t sure what she was doing here. No, that wasn’t right-she was in this tiny Oregon town because her boss sent her out to scout the location for the new hotel he was building. It didn’t matter that it was almost Christmas, Julie hadn’t partaken of the holiday since the year her mother died. What was the sense of celebrating a time of love and family when the most important member of yours gets stolen by cancer?

Sure, her dad and brother were still here, but they were all pretty shaken by Rose’s sudden decline and then death that the holiday hadn’t been all that important to them either. And Julie was single, so there was no special someone to spend the time with.

So sure, why not visit some quaint little village where they actually got snow to investigate a piece of property?

It was a nice town, all told. A main drag of shops and places to eat, plenty of friendly people. It was a little Christmas crazy, which Julie could do without, but she had plans to be back in her Malibu apartment with a glass of wine by December 22’nd, so what did that matter?

The property negotiations hadn’t even hit a snag like she had been expecting-it was a run down old house with no cultural or historical significance, the owners were an older couple who wanted to retire somewhere warm, and had given it to her for a song really.

So why was she still here?

Probably because the exceptionally cute granddaughter of the owners had invited her to, Julie supposed. Kayla was super sweet, making sure Julie’s stay had been lovely, treating her to all the joys of her little town; the delectable cherry pie and aromatic dark roast at the local diner, the stables where one could rent the horses for an honest to goodness sleigh ride, the pond where all the little kids went skating.

It was like something out of a fucking greeting card.

But despite herself, Julie was having fun. Sure she cringed whenever she heard yet another rendition of Jingle Bells, and rejected every bit of holiday cheer tried to foist on her, but so far Kayla had stuck to wintery fun, and a bit of flirting that Julie wasn’t exactly immune to.

She wasn’t usually the type to have a one night fling, but it might be a nice cap to her week before she went home to see if Kayla was really as sweet as she seemed in Julie’s high thread count sheets.

However, today she knew was going to test her. It was apparently the day of the annual Christmas market, and Kayla insisted that Julie accompany her.

“Why me?”

“Well you won’t get another chance now will you?” Kayla asked. “Might get a few items knocked off your list. Plus it means we get to spend more time together.” Kayla had blushed at that, and Julie reflected it in her own cheeks, finally relenting to go.

“But no caroling, and no eggnog!” she said.

“Spoilsport,” Kayla chided, and told her to bundle up, because of course it was an outdoor market. At least Julie had packed accordingly, even if her stylish leather gloves got in the way of feeling Kayla’s hand when she pulled Julie towards the stalls.

The first few stalls were distinctly holiday themed; wreaths of holly, wooden Santas for your doors, nutcrackers for your living room, and piles upon piles of mistletoe. Julie had no interest in those. The next few she liked though; thick leather bound journals, home knitted sweaters and mittens, and heaps of baked goods.

“You wanna split a cookie?” Kayla offered, and Julie agreed, almost moaning with delight at the flavours of white chocolate and cranberries as she bit into the treat, and made a point of getting a dozen of them to bring home with her, though she very much doubted they would survive until then.

They kept walking hand in hand, pursuing the wares, though they didn’t end up buying much. Kayla shoved a warm wool hat down over Julie’s curls, so Julie got her a nice neck warmer in thanks, they both picked up a few bars of soap, with Julie totally not on purpose getting a bar of the one Kayla claimed she loved as well.

“You see anything you want to get your family?” Kayla asked as they got closer to displays of ornaments and decorations.

“We-we don’t really celebrate Christmas,” Julie told her. “My mom passed around then back when I was a teenager, so it hurt too much for us to do it after that.”

“Oh Julie, I’m so sorry,” Kayla said, clutching her hands together. “I figured that maybe you were just a bit of a Scrooge, and I could maybe cheer you up, but… I won’t push any more holiday cheer on you, I promise.”

“I haven’t minded it too much,” Julie admitted. “It’s been over a decade, so it doesn’t hurt as much, but I always miss her most this time of year.”

“Will you tell me about her?” Kayla asked.

So Julie did, leading them to a secluded spot where she told Kayla all about her mom over steaming cups of cider and shared bites of fudge. About how losing her mom killed her love for the holiday season when it used to be her favourite time of year. How much it hurt to lose it, and how it had caused such a rift in her family because they couldn’t process their grief.

Kayla sat there through it all, listening, not offering advice or platitudes, but an open heart and an arm around Julie, giving her the strength to go on. Wiping away her tears and offering Julie the last bit of fudge in order to make her smile.

“You know, I didn’t always love this time of year either,” Kayla remarked. “My folks were about to split up, and then left me with lola and zǔfù so they could work on their marriage. Then it was easier on them to just… not come back. They send cards and call every so often. But they always made me feel like I was the reason they were fighting, when they just weren’t a good fit.”

She looked at Julie, giving her a small smile. “I was angry for a long time. Didn’t exactly lead to the easiest upbringing for my poor grandparents. But eventually they got me a good therapist, and between that and the people here, the season won me over again.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through all that,” Julie said, squeezing her hands.

Kayla shrugged. “It made me who I am. Plus it’s nice, always having this place left to come back to. I can’t wait to see what you do with the old house when I return next year.”

“You don’t live here?” Julie asked.

“No way!” Kayla said with a laugh. “I live in a nice bungalow near Venice Beach, I work for the LA Ballet, I’m only here for the holidays.”

“Oh wow, for some reason I thought this was your home,” Julie said, blushing.

“I mean it is, and always will be,” Kayla replied. “But I live in LA. So maybe after the holidays… we could do something together? See each other more?”

“I’d like that, maybe for New Years?” Julie suggested, and Kayla’s answering smile was all she needed in response. “Alright, I can’t wait. But for now… how about we go get some eggnog?”

[talesfromthegameff14]

Prompt #20: Hamper - Arrosez

Writing Music:  Everybody Sins - Andrew WK

It was the dark of the moon in the depths of winter, the days short and bright with the nights long and frozen.  The forest slumbered in this season, the only green seen from holly vines tangled in the bare limbs of the oak tree and the occasional pine scattered among the different trees of the Shroud.  It was a time to rest and heal, take the time to tell stories, indulge in hobbies that one didn’t have the means to do in the busier seasons of spring, summer, and fall.  The land would tend to itself now, for most at least.

For those dedicated to Memphina, this phase of the moon within the darkest of the months was a time to remember and in this Rose was no exception.  The tribe was more malms away than they could count, separated by mountains and oceans and an iron cage.  Sometimes, the cage could be slipped out of, their soul feeling the pull of home and tradition even in this ceruleum soaked hellscape.  A flicker of aether, carefully drawn from the bluejay that acted as unseen companion and lifeline, traveled throughout the compound of the Alaudae.  Those that were already sleeping sunk deeper into it and those that weren’t found themselves pushed into a light slumber despite whatever task they were doing.  It wouldn’t last long, but long enough for what they needed.  The doors of this cage were never locked, the collars around the necks of the Alaudae more than enough to keep the prisoners of war in line as Rose has found out time and time again.  Escape was so close in this moment, but not close enough, not while that wretched device was locked around their neck and hampered their every effort to leave. Instead, the call of impossible freedom was ignored as they walked through the ghostly silent halls and out into the frost coated gloom.  They couldn’t see the moon, no one could when Menphina hid herself from the Star.  But, they could still feel it, knew where it traveled unseen along the sea of stars.  Their feet took them past the gates where guards slumped against the posts in forced slumber.  A clump of trees nearby called to the elezen, though they kept to the road to mask their passage.  Only turning towards the trees once they were close enough that the footsteps wouldn’t be easily seen.  Once within the shelter of the needled covered boughs Rose exhaled before looking up to the star speckled sky and let theirself think of things that only brought grief and pain in this place. The warmth of a fire crackling, tucked in beside the stone hearth deep in the ground with a good book and a warm drink.  The laughter of lovers nearby as Moni cooked and Ren got in the way to snitch bites of food as he could.  The scent of spices and stew, savory and sweet, from the magic that Moni could manage in the kitchen.  She always was the better cook.  Meals shared along with kisses and cuddles and so many things they took for granted.  Yet under it all?  The Star and the road called, the bedrock singing a sweet tune of exploration with notes of cacophony, imbalances that needed correcting.  Tears rolled down the half mask Rose wore to keep their face protected from the biting cold, freezing before they could drop down onto the snow.  The sorrow and longing sapped the strength from their limbs and a need to scream about the unfairness of it all burbled uselessly in their chest.  They couldn’t, not here, never here.  The spell was far too tenuous with the limited aether they could work with here.  If they were caught?  It would mean more pain, a step closer to death that they still fought against.  It would be a step further from the memories they held close like a thread worn blanket that was cherished well past it’s usefulness.  It was too long and not long enough before they turned and left the copse of trees, retracing their steps back to their cell within the compound.  If the guards at the gate were a bit too still?  Well that was on them for falling asleep in the bitter cold.  Asleep in their room Rose had nothing to do with it and no care for any lives lost in the dark of Menphina’s smile.   

[another-lost-mc]

Holiday Rush

JONAH CLEMENCE x f!Reader | Ikemen Revolution 2.4k Words | Fluff, Misunderstandings, Angst with a Happy Ending Prompt: Jonah and his lover have a misunderstanding about the appropriate times to put up holiday decorations.

Jonah’s carriage came to a creaking stop in front of the Black Army headquarters. He saw his brother’s familiar figure waiting for him just beyond the main gates. After murmuring some instructions for the driver to wait for his return, he stepped down and huddled deeper into the plush lining of his coat. The biting cold wind felt like needles scratching at his skin.

Luka fell into step beside him as they both walked in silence towards the main building. Jonah noticed the spruce trees that lined the snowy pathway were decorated with silver bows. There were tasteful holiday tapestries hanging from balconies and windows on the higher floors. Twinkling fairy lights wrapped around vibrant green garlands that hung above the door and window frames. 

“I’m surprised the Black Army is capable of such niceties,” he said half-heartedly, a weak attempt at an insult. Luka ignored him and led him up the front steps and they paused in front of the door, stomping the snow off their boots. Jonah glanced at the elaborate wreath hanging in front of him. The giant black bow tied at the bottom of the wreath looked like it was made from real silk. The embroidery was made of glittery silver thread. Luka pushed the door open and moved aside to let Jonah enter first.

It took a surprising amount of willpower to stop the audible gasp that caught at the back of Jonah’s throat. He stared wide-eyed at the entrance hall that was brilliantly lit with candles. Garlands of holly and pine wrapped around the staircase banister leading to the second floor. Similar to the exterior, black and silver bows and twinkling fairy lights decorated the doorways. An enormous Christmas tree stood in the large sitting room nearby. Large glass and ceramic ornaments hung off the branches while strings of colourful lights wrapped around the tree. The only thing missing was a tree topper.

Jonah pulled his scarf loose as he walked around slowly, scrutinizing every detail of the transformation that had taken place here. He wouldn’t call the Black Army headquarters decrepit, but from his few visits in the past he remembered it was normally utilitarian and bland. The Red Army headquarters, although regal and elegant in its own right, had yet to be decorated for the holiday season and was clearly outdone.

Luka must have read his thoughts in the expression on his face because he offered his brother a mysteriously smug smile. “I think we have the Red Army beat this year,” he said. He motioned for Jonah to follow him and they slowly circled the tree. Up close, Jonah could see that the Black Army officers had their own custom-made ornaments hanging proudly from the branches. The officers had hand-sewn snowmen crafted in their likeness. One wore the same hat and cloak as Ray, another had a belt with pistol holders similar to Fenrir. There were several personalized ornaments with the names of other prominent Black Army soldiers too. The elaborate writing on the ornaments was familiar to him.

Jonah felt something sink in the pit of his stomach as realization washed over him. “I suppose you had help planning all this since I doubt your uncouth lot could come up with half these ideas on your own,” he said bitterly, the awe he felt only moments ago turning sour in his mouth.

“Of course we did. Alice has so many wonderful talents, wouldn’t you agree?” Fenrir’s voice echoed cheerily from somewhere above him. Jonah heard several pairs of footsteps descend the stairs nearby and he turned to face them, hackles rising. The unexpected invitation from his brother was beginning to feel like a trap.

“Perhaps she could help liven up the Red Army headquarters as well?” Seth suggested with an innocent tone that fooled no one.

“Oh, wait,” Fenrir said with a drawl, “she already tried that, didn’t she?”

Jonah glared at the Ace of Spades who stood at the bottom of the staircase with his hands on his hips and a triumphant smile on his face. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, however - they glinted with something menacing.

Sirius put his hand on Fenrir’s shoulder and squeezed. It would’ve looked friendly if Fenrir didn’t wince in pain. “Despite how clearly he doesn’t deserve her, we know that Jonah would never hurt Alice knowingly. Isn’t that right?” The older man’s question was laced with an unspoken threat. Jonah bristled with indignation at the accusation.

“If you’re all done posturing, I’ve finished the ornament for the top of the tree if you’d like to see it,” a child’s voice said nearby. Jonah glanced wearily at Oliver who was wiping his hands on a handkerchief. He looked almost comical with his sleeves rolled up and a startling amount of glitter and pine needles stuck in his hair. The Black Army officers hurried past him, their excited voices fading away down the hall. “And then we can help you figure out how to fix this little misunderstanding with Alice,” he said, giving Jonah a pointed look before leaving the room expectantly. 

“Isn’t it a bit early to be decorating for Christmas?” he had asked Alice one morning when he saw she had hung a wreath on their bedroom door. The fall harvest celebrations had just ended, and the weather was still mild. Her face fell for a brief moment before she smiled at him, nodding her apparent agreement. By the end of the day, the subject was long forgotten from Jonah’s mind. She never brought it up again.

If someone told Jonah his thoughtless question would provoke his darling Alice enough to turn the Black Army headquarters into a winter wonderland, he wouldn't have believed it. Caught up in the frenzied schedule of the holiday season, he failed to realize how much time she had spent here rather than at the Red Army headquarters. He despised the idea that his brother and the Black Army fools were able to soothe her disappointment in him by giving her a place to nurture her excitement for the holidays. Surrounded by the evidence of his failure, he realized that the wreath on their bedroom door had quietly disappeared without him even noticing.

In the large workshop Oliver had commandeered for himself, the Black Army officers were huddled around a table, watching the tree topper he’d made slowly rotate on a mechanical base. On the outside, it looked like an ordinary star shape made of stained glass. Somehow, Oliver’s invention shot out little puffs of real snow accompanied by bells that chimed a loop of different Christmas melodies. Oliver said something about the not-so-legal use of magic crystals to keep the mechanical device inside the ornament filled with water and able to conjure snow at specific timed intervals.

Jonah felt like an intruder as he watched the officers nearby collect the ornament and run off, eager to add the finishing touch to their tree. He slumped over at a nearby workbench, elbows on the table, head in his hands. He’s not sure how much time had passed, but he felt a small poke in his side. He glanced at the child who sat beside him.

“I knew Christmas was her favourite holiday, but I didn’t expect…” he trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the boxes that lined Oliver’s workspace, filled to the brim with unused decorations, “…all of this.” 

“Do you really hate decorating that much?” Oliver asked. Not judging, simply curious.

Jonah shook his head. “With all of our other duties taking priority, updating our seasonal decor is usually done closer to the holiday itself. It’s my own fault I didn’t talk to her about it properly as soon as she showed an interest in it.” He looked away, attempting to hide the shamed flush staining his cheeks. “I hate that I made her feel like I wouldn't want this for us too.”

Oliver snorted and hopped up from his seat. “You’re an idiot if you think all these decorations are only for the Black Army,” he said as he pulled a random ornament from an open box and tossed it to Jonah. It was a red bow with Zero’s name embroidered with gold thread. “I think she was waiting for you to be more receptive to the idea, so she’s been making everything and storing it all here. If you want to make up for your stupidity," he said with a smirk, "I’d appreciate your help getting all these boxes out of my workshop and taking them where they belong.”

Jonah thought for a moment before he finally smiled. “If you’ll put up with the intrusion for a bit longer, I have a favor to ask of you and Blanc.”

Jonah paced in the entrance hall of the Red Army headquarters as he watched Alice’s carriage grow smaller in the distance. As promised, Oliver recruited Blanc’s help in luring Alice away early that morning, using some ruse about finalizing celebrations planned in the Central Quarter.

Once she was out of sight, Jonah left with his group of volunteer soldiers to retrieve the boxes of decorations from the Black Army. One of Jonah’s many other tasks that day was securing the largest tree he could find that would reasonably fit in the Red Army hall and arranging for its delivery. He ordered different potted trees, poinsettias, and other festive plants with extras to spare. He was not going to let his plans be side swept by miscalculations on his part.

One task Jonah did not enjoy was explaining his sudden urgency to overhaul the Red Army headquarters within the short window of Alice’s absence. The other Red Army officers laughed at his clumsy rebuke of Alice’s early decorating for the holidays which somehow led to a clandestine makeover of the Black Army’s base of operations. Jonah framed the daunting task as a competition since he knew most of the Red Army soldiers wouldn’t dare back away from a challenge if their pride was on the line.

Once all of the boxes had been delivered and unloaded into the main hall, the officers began sorting through them with obvious appreciation of Alice’s beautiful decorations. The King of Hearts personally took over the task of organizing the exterior displays and installing the new greenery. Jonah watched with dwindling patience as the others bickered over who should get to decorate the tree. He told them to figure it out amongst themselves with as little bloodshed as possible and left the room. When he returned ten minutes later, Edgar stood proudly beside the tree, hardly a hair out of place, with boxes of ornaments and lights opened and ready at his feet.

“How did you convince Blanc to keep Alice away for the entire day?” Edgar asked as he struggled to untie a knotted ball of string lights. No one wanted to risk her early return which would ruin the surprise.

“I suggested she take some of the carrot recipes she’d been saving as part of his Christmas gift,” Jonah’s voice replied from behind the Christmas tree. He had climbed up a ladder and was hanging decorations on the higher branches.

Edgar laughed - it was a clever idea on Jonah’s part. Blanc loved anything carrot-related and would spend the entire day in the kitchen taste-testing if time allowed it. “If that’s the case, then we’ll be lucky if Blanc doesn’t just keep her overnight,” Edgar teased. He ducked his head when a golden bauble came soaring at him from Jonah’s direction.

You stood in front of the large doors, stunned by what you were seeing. You first noticed the new brightly-lit trees that lined the path on your return journey home across the Red Bridge. You recognized many of your decorations hanging from the balconies and windows above you. The giant wreath on the front door had two ornamental birds made of felt nested side-by-side on a branch of holly. The red silk ribbon had Merry Christmas embroidered in beautiful golden script. You had only finished making it a week ago; the pine smell was still so fresh.

After a few moments, the doors opened wide and Jonah’s beaming smile greeted you. He had changed out of his uniform and was wearing a simple cream button-up shirt with a red scarf tied around his neck. He took your hands gently in his and led you through the elaborately decorated entranceway. Somewhere nearby a Christmas carol chimed; apparently Oliver had made two identical tree topper ornaments without you knowing.

You didn't know where to look first. You didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry that we couldn’t share this experience sooner than this, because of my own ignorance,” Jonah said quietly, remorsefully, “but I promise to try not to disappoint you so gravely in the future.” You could hear the truth in his voice and saw his eyes were bright and pleading as they stared into your own.

You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him. You felt his hands grasp your waist and pull you closer to him in response. You nuzzled his chest, soaking in his warmth and comforting scent. Your eyes felt hot with tears but when you looked up at him, your smile was wide and full of love. “I’ll forgive you if you give me the grand tour - I want to see the tree!” Your growing excitement was a soothing balm for the lonely disappointment you tried so hard to hide from him all this time.

You and Jonah held hands as he led you from room to room, eager to show you the efforts of a very long day's work. Along the way, Red Army soldiers stopped you to compliment your decorations and thanked you for your generosity. Some of them told you stories about how all the officers had asked for volunteers to help and how Jonah watched every step with a critical eye to make sure no decoration went unused.

Kyle congratulated you when he walked past you both, a red ribbon tied in his hair and a bottle tucked under an arm. Edgar found the pair of you as you were leaving Lance's office. He told you where he’d placed the stockings you’d made for each of the officers. He suggested that Jonah’s stocking be stuffed full of coal - the bauble incident from earlier was clearly not forgotten.

Eventually the hour grew late and exhaustion was finally starting to overtake the happiness you felt. Jonah smiled knowingly and steered you to the familiar hallway leading to your room. He found the wreath you made for and returned it to its rightful place on your bedroom door. Your names were embroidered on the silk ribbon, a memento of your first Christmas together.

“If you’ll permit me, I have one final surprise for you,” Jonah said with a twinkle in his eye. You admired the way his cheeks flushed in the dimming light. It was so adorable when he got flustered about something.

“I’m not sure I can handle anymore surprises after the evening I’ve had,” you said with a laugh as he pushed the door open then pulled you close to him.

“There’s one last holiday tradition that I refuse to overlook,” he said with surprising seriousness, his voice low and tinged with heat. He nodded his chin upwards. You followed his gaze and saw a sprig of mistletoe hanging in the doorway above you. He silenced your delighted laughter with a kiss.

[merrock]

sunday; post-holiday notes.

Morning, Merrockites! A lot of new stuff was posted this weekend to gear up for our holiday season, so here is a rundown of everything you should be aware of:

important mod post. -- READ & LIKE ASAP!

winter wonderland sleepover. (dec. 9-11)

winter market. (dec. 18-24)

new year’s eve party. (dec. 31)

holly jolly season moodboard task.

the week ahead -- we have snow coming!

Pretty, pretty please with icing on top make sure to pay attention to and like the mod post that is linked above -- read it and like it as soon as you can, so that we know you’re up to date with what’s happening in the group right now. Even if you’re in stealth mode and just checking mobile, or lurking while busy, read and give that little heart a click, that’s all we ask.

With the Thanksgiving holiday coming to an end, we would love to see some characters who have been MIA pop back to life once the food coma and shopping frenzies have worn off. Although we don’t normally encourage it, if you are feeling overwhelmingly behind on replies due to the holidays, this is the time to pop up new starters and start fresh, or reach out to get threads going. We’ve had a lot of writers express interest in wanting wintry, fun threads, so go get ‘em.

Enjoy your Sunday! xx