#was saving these for christmas but eh

[devilsrecreation]

any outlanders christmas headcannons? :3

You know, I HAVE been thinking of Christmas-based scenarios recently (i.e “A Christmas Carol” with Reirei) so why not?

Also idk if you mean in-universe headcanons or a human au so ig I’ll do both!

Everyone has a hand in decorating the tree. Everyone has different taste in Christmas decorations so it’s very diverse

They binge watch all the “good” Christmas movies like “Home Alone” and “How the Grinch Stole Christmas”

They also warm up to “Muppets Christmas Carol” bc I said so

You know damn well who would do the equivalent of this to caroling animals

Your “Secret Santa” idea still prevails and the Idiots still don’t understand the concept. Either that or they reveal everybody’s secrets

You know that joke where someone’s stocking is huge compared to the others? That’s Cheezi “I’ve been really good this year!”

I think mistletoe grows in Africa so the skinks definitely place it here and there. It’s cute for Janja and Jasiri and Reirei and Goigoi….not so much for the crocs. Tamka and Neema ended up under it and actually gagged at the thought of kissing each other

Ig Kiburi changed the tradition so they fight under mistletoe instead cuz it’s the crocodile way

You know how Pumbaa dressed up as “Dandy Claws”? Jasiri got Janja to do the same thing hfhfhf

“Not a word…”

The skinks are definitely on the Naughty List. You know why

However when threatened that they would get coal, Shupavu insisted on making money off of it…or at least using it to build up the fire to keep warm so take THAT, Santa!

Chungu, Cheezi, and Tamka are not allowed to go into the kitchen cuz their fatasses ate all of the Christmas cookies

[batemanofficial]

my mother is going to be home for a full week instead of the 3 days i was originally told. i will be seeing nosferatu back to back to back from 12/25 on until i am forcibly removed from the premises

[deus-ex-mona]

farewell, my idiot son…

[noxious-amillion]

Hi sorry I haven’t posted in a while they gave me depression

[khruschevshoe]

My Hot-Take/Controversial Ranking of Doctor Who Seasons (excluding specials bc my special order is really unhinged)

3 > 1 > 10 > 4 > 5 > 8 > 11 > 12 > 9 > 7b > 2 > 6 > 13 = 7a

Disclaimer: I have favorite episodes that come from every single season on this list, including 7a. For example, even though Season 6 is low on the list, the God Complex, Almost People/Rebel Flesh, and Impossible Astronaut are some of my favorite of the show. I do really love the Power of Three. These are based on season arc/average feeling per episode/rewatchability on a subjective level.

[kwyoz]

im being tortured not being able to play datv aughghghgh

[sanguineterrain]

holiday spirit | jason todd

Summary: Stuck at a shitty office party for your shitty job on Christmas Eve Eve, you’re at your wit’s end. The last thing you expect is to play vigilante for a night with the Red Hood.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader 

Word count: 7.2k

Warnings/tags: panic attacks, reader has anxiety, creepy coworkers, office party shenanigans, canon-typical violence, jason being both a menace and a sweetheart, attempts at humor, fake relationship, silliness!

the divider

You’re grateful for a reason to escape. Someone announces that the lights on the obnoxious eleven-foot Christmas tree are burned out and you’re already on the elevator, volunteering to find spare lights. 

You hate these office parties. They’re just a way to play politics, show off fiancés, and reaffirm cliques. You wanted to skip it all together. But Mr. Emerson, your boss, had insisted that attending tonight’s party was mandatory.

Alma had told you about a hundred times to skip tonight, but Alma’s worked here since the Reagan administration and has too much pull to be fired. You, conversely, have been here eight months, and if you get fired, your next job is going to be as a henchman for a B-list Gotham villain. 

Being painfully ordinary and anxious is a toxic mix. Your doctor still thinks all your worrying is because of your menstrual cycle. He doesn’t believe in work-related stress.

So anyway. You’re just trying to get through tonight. And find some tree lights that work. 

You unlock the spare office where all the holiday junk is stored and turn on the light. 

The motherfucking Red Hood looks at you, one leg dangling outside of the window and one leg inside the office. He unclicks his harness. 

"Oh my God,” you say, hand frozen on the light switch.

Red Hood pulls his leg in from the window and steps into the office. He puts the harness in a duffel bag and roughly zips it, then tosses it unceremoniously onto the floor. 

"Oh my God.”

He glances at you, helmet eyes glowing. "No God here, just me.”

"Oh my God," you say again, near hysterics. "Oh my God, Red Hood."

"Always nice to meet a fan," he says irritably, brushing snow off of his jacket, flashing his holsters. Oh, fuck. That's a lot of guns.

"What, um—" You close your eyes, lick your lips, try to find your sanity. "To what do I—why—are you gonna kill me?”

"The fuck? You think I'd sneak into an office and kill someone in cold blood? What kinda operation you think I'm running?"

Your mouth opens and closes in horror. "Wh–I... I don't—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, Mr. Hood."

"Please, Mr. Hood was my father."

He laughs. You taste bile in your throat. 

Hood sobers. "Damn. Tough crowd. Look, sorry to freak you out, but I got shit to do. If you'll just point me to Hershel Emerson's office, I'll be on my merry way."

"That's m-my boss. Are you gonna kill him?" You can’t handle murder tonight. You’ll have a breakdown for sure. 

"Literally, what did I just say?" Hood throws his hands up. "Not one minute ago. I'm not killing anyone!"

"Yet?" you ask weakly, mind inundated with too many mob movies to watch your manners. You know what the Red Hood is all about. Everyone does. 

"No. I'm not killing Emerson. But he is a bad dude, so I gotta take care of business. Actually, I should kill him. He deserves it."

You squeak in horror. He raises a hand.

"But I'm not!" he says gruffly. "Respectfully, get a grip. You live in Gotham."

You swallow. "What're you gonna do to my boss if not kill him?"

Hood shrugs. "Eh, maybe scare him a bit. Mostly get intel to take him down. He's currently sitting on five million dollars of stolen life savings from clients."

You blink. "What?"

"Yup. What I really wanna know is which of his employees are in on it. He didn't do this alone."

Hood takes out a small roll-up pouch of what looks like lockpicking tools. You release your sweaty death grip on the doorknob, causing it to squeak. Hood doesn't look up.

five million dollars is ringing in your head. That happened here. Where you work. Your boss is even scummier than you thought.

“Is that a lockpicking kit?” you ask.

“Yup. Good eye.”

"This seems... illegal.”

"Well, I won't lie to you, most of what I do is. You won't be implicated though.”

He looks at you. You flinch. Even with the lights on, the Red Hood is scary as shit. 

"Yeah..." he says, shaking his head. "You wouldn’t do well in prison. I can tell."

Your chest hurts. "I don't think anyone does well in prison," you say, eyebrows scrunching. "Have... you been to prison?"

"Only to break out a friend. You ask a lot of questions."

"Sorry. Um, Mr. Red Hood—"

"Ah-ah. Call me Red. Or Hood. No Mister-ing."

"Okay.” You lick your lips, hoping he doesn't go back on his temporary no-kill policy. “Hood, do you think you could come later? After the Christmas party?”

He tilts his head at you. You keep talking. 

“Not that I don't admire what you're doing! Because I think taking down my boss for stealing money is great, eat the rich and all that, but, um, I came up here to get lights to replace the ones that burned out downstairs because that's a normal thing that happens and now you're here, at my job, and I'm freaking out. Oh God, oh my God—”

You grab the wall for stability, feeling like you've been rocking on a boat for hours. Sweat beads on your forehead. This time, you really do feel like you’ll throw up. Throwing up in front of the Red Hood would be humiliating. 

“Look, I got shit to do, okay? I'm sorry you're freaking out but your boss is gonna cash out in a few days and then I lose him and that five million. It's now or never."

You should've just stayed home and baked cookies. Fuck being social! This is what happens when you're social: you meet morally gray vigilantes who force you to be complicit with their crimes.

Your cheeks feel wet. Are you crying? Maybe it’s sweat. 

Hood points to the hallway. "Is there a camera outside?"

"Y-yeah.” Your voice is weak. “I think I’m having a heart attack. Can you call security on your way out?"

“Does your left arm hurt?”

“No, but—”

“Are your limbs stiffening?”

“No, but—”

“You’re not having a heart attack. Your speech is fine.”

Hood takes out a few more things from the duffel, then kicks it under a desk with his foot. You wheeze and grab onto the doorknob again. 

It’s quiet for a second. Then— 

“Shit. You're having a panic attack,” Hood says.

"Mm, probably," you say, hunched over like an armadillo. Fuck your stupid doctor. 

There's silence as you wheeze quietly. Then something small hits your head. You flinch and squeal.

"You don't need to throw things at me!" you say, beyond defeated, near tears.

"No, I wasn't—sorry. It's a Warhead. I have one when I'm feeling… not my best. They're s’posed to help occupy your other senses so the panic disappears."

You stare at the candy, confused and suspicious at once. "Is it spiked?"

"Again, what sorta operation do you think I'm running? It's not drugs. Look." Hood unwraps a Warhead and sticks it in his mouth underneath his helmet. You hear him suck on it. "Eesh, that's sour. Okay? No drugs."

So you take the candy from the floor, unwrap it, and pop it into your mouth. The sour taste immediately overwhelms you. It's like your brain resets. You pant through the sour.

"Ough," you say, face scrunching from the taste.

"Yeah, right? Life changing hack."

You suck on the candy desperately and close your eyes, trying to find your breath. 

“It’s okay,” Hood says, stilted and awkward. “Just, uh, focus on your breathing. Exhale longer than you inhale. Breathe through your nose.”

It takes another few minutes, but the feeling passes. Your chest lightens. It’s the quickest you’ve ever recovered from a panic attack. 

“I was just kidding about the prison thing,” Hood says. “You’re not gonna go to jail ‘cause of this, I promise.”

Yeah, but what if you lose your job?

You spit the Warhead into a trash can and smack your tongue a bit. “Are you sure you can’t come back tomorrow night?”

“No can do,” Hood says. “Your boss will be gone by then.”

“It's just that I'm really bad with keeping secrets and according to Google, that's how ulcers form and I really can't afford any sick days off, so—"

You yelp as the door suddenly swings open, hitting your shoulder. You spin around.

"Hey," Bill says, squinting at you. "Where have you been?”

"No!" you yell, and turn off the light. 

Bill stares at you, illuminated by the hallway light. “Uh…”

You clear your throat. "Ahem. I'm fine. It's just taking me a moment to sift through all these decorations. Please return to the party.”

You hate Bill. He’s a sleaze and doesn’t do any work. More than once, he’s trapped you by the water cooler in a conversation about his “smokin’” imaginary lawyer girlfriend.

“If you wanted me to come help you, you could've just said so," he says, reaching for the light, way too close. You don’t like his tone either.

"No!" you yell, blocking the light switch with your hands.

"What the hell? Why not?"

"Because—"

There's a creak from the back. You wince. 

Bill immediately whips his head toward the sound. "Is someone here? Hello?"

He reaches for the light. Again, you block him, swatting his hands away.

"Would you stop—is someone here?"

"My boyfriend!" you blurt.

Bill stops, looking at you. "Your boyfriend? You've never mentioned a boyfriend."

"Well, I have one and he's here."

"Okay. Why can't I turn on the light and see him?"

"Because he's... um..."

You spot the red Santa suit out of the corner of your eye. 

Oh, this is a terrible idea.

"He's changing! He's our Santa for the party. Surprise!" You make weak jazz hands.

Bill looks into the dark where you're pretty sure Hood is hiding. You hope, anyway. Otherwise Bill is going to tell everyone that you're making up boyfriends. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," comes Hood's unmodulated, deadpan reply, and you jump. "Don't turn on the light. I'm naked."

"Oh..." Bill looks queasy for a moment. "Uh—" He looks at you and suddenly grins. "Oh, I get it. You two were having fun before going to the party, huh? Didn't know you were such a wildcat."

"That’s disgusting,” you say. “I would never do that in the office.”

Bill wiggles his eyebrows. "Me-ow. Does the Santa thing turn you on?"

"I'm right here, Bill, and naked or not, I'll kick your ass," Hood says.

Bill pales and quickly backs out of the room. "Right. Sorry. Uh, carry on."

He closes the door. You push your back against it and exhale, heart racing.

"Bill is a shithead," Hood says. 

“How… do you know his name?”

“Employee background check,” Hood says mildly. 

"Oh… yeah, he's been written up a bunch of times for inappropriate behavior, but he's close with Emerson, so he never gets fired."

"Want me to kill him for you? Free of charge."

"What? No! Hood—"

"Oh, relax. I was kidding."

"Uh-huh." You turn on the light. Hood has his helmet on, and his voice is modulated again. "What're we gonna do?"

"Well, I'm gonna go make sure Hershel doesn’t fuck off to Bermuda. The lights you wanted are here, by the way."

Hood tosses you a box of multi-colored tree lights. Then he walks toward you. You plaster yourself across the door.

"Wait! You can't leave. I said that my boyfriend is going to be Santa. Bill will tell everyone. They’ll expect you.”

"I appreciate your quick thinking, but that's a hard pass,” Hood says.

"You can't leave now! Bill's gonna tell everyone I'm a liar and they'll think I was up to something worse in here, like snorting coke."

"I mean this gently: I think you should look into anti-anxiety meds. My brother swears by Xanax.”

“My doctor won’t prescribe it to me,” you say glumly. “He thinks my anxiety is made up.”

“Huh. Want me to kill him? I know a better doctor.”

"Well…” You hesitate, then shake your head. “No! No. Hood, please. They’re all gonna expect a Santa. And when I don’t show up with Santa, they’ll remember that I didn’t participate in White Elephant or any of that other office nonsense that I don’t want to waste my money on. I need this job!”

“They’re not gonna fire you for not doing White Elephant,” Hood says. 

“You don’t know them! It’s a popularity contest.”

But Hood is indeed disinterested in the fact that you'll be the office pariah. Probably because he’s never worked in an office. 

Instead, he ushers you aside without a struggle. Then he turns the doorknob.

"Wait! Wait, listen. If you dress as Santa, you'll have access to the party and offices. You won't have to sneak around. And people get really drunk at these. They'll talk. You can figure out who's helping Emerson steal money."

His hand pauses. He looks at you. You look back, wringing your hands.

"You're pretty crafty," he says. 

"...Thanks?”

Hood releases the doorknob. "Alright, fine. I'll do the Santa shtick.”

“You will?”

He tilts his head. “Should I not?”

“No! No, you should. It’ll be a good disguise.”

He hums. “Sure. But we're in this together now, got it? You blow my cover and we both go down."

"Y-yeah, got it."

Hood heaves a gusty sigh. "Next time, I'm sending Roy in to do this shit."

"Who's Roy?"

"Ah." He holds up a finger. "Too many questions."

He makes a beeline for the Santa costume and then looks at you expectantly.

"Yo. Boyfriend or not, you're not watching me change. Guard the door, Mrs. Claus."

"Oh, right. Sorry."

You turn off the light and go into the hall, shutting the door behind you. It's empty, luckily. You rap your fingers on the box of lights, leg jiggling. 

This is insane. You should just tell Hood you can't do this and let him figure out his own plan.

But then... this would make it easier to find Emerson's crime partner. And you're really sick of Bill being a jerk. You don’t want to be called a liar, or get iced out for the rest of your time here because you didn’t bring Santa. Maybe having Hood be your Santa-boyfriend would make people leave you alone. Which is a crazy reason to stick to this plan, but still. You're trying to find the bright side.

And all those people that Emerson stole from... surely, you have a responsibility to help get their money back and bring him to justice, don't you?

The door swings open. You turn around.

“You wear a mask under your helmet?” 

“As a precaution.” He sounds defensive. “Lots of people in my profession do it.” 

You doubt that. “Don’t you think it’ll be weird if Santa has a mask on?” 

He hesitates, evidently debating between protecting his identity and arousing suspicion.

“Fine.” He carefully peels off the mask and tucks it into his pocket. The surrounding skin is slightly pink from irritation. His nose and cheeks are dotted with freckles. 

And wow. The Red Hood has beautiful eyes. So vibrant and clear, like seafoam. And young! How old is he, anyway? He doesn’t look much older than you, if at all. 

His eyes are framed by thick, dark lashes, and it makes sense, Hood being a brunet.

“What?” he snaps, glaring.

“Nice eyes,” you blurt.

His brows furrow. You remember the guns.

“Um, anyway. Should we go?” you squeak out, backing away.

Hood huffs through the beard. It flutters. "We need to have some ground rules."

"Okay."

"First, you should know that I will shoot if there's a physical threat at this party. Two, you're gonna call me Todd at the party. Three, if you try to tell anyone that I'm Red Hood or that I'm taking down Emerson, I will make your life hell. And if you're his partner, you'd better tell me now or I'm gonna be a lot less jolly."

"I'm not!" you say. "I would never do that. And I won't tell anyone you're Red Hood."

"Good. Let's go. Keep your ears open for hints about Emerson's partner."

He takes off in long strides. You hurry to keep up. The Santa costume doesn't slow him down.

"So how did you find out that Emerson's stealing?" you ask.

"Got a tip. You really didn't know he was stealing?"

“I don’t have access to the finances. I work in user interface. Website design.”

"Yeah? That's pretty cool. I got a brother who's into that stuff," Hood says.

"The same one who takes Xanax?”

“Would you believe it?”

You try to picture Red Hood with a regular family. With a brother or a sister or a father. It's hard to imagine.

“How come you don’t take anti-anxiety medication?” you ask. 

“I have Pit Madness Syndrome, and it has a weird chemical reaction with that stuff.”

“Oh.” Subject change. Quickly! "Do you celebrate Christmas?" 

"Not really. I'm not a believer or celebrator of much. You can see what my plans are two days before Christmas."

"Your family doesn't celebrate?"

Hood just grunts, eyes suddenly stormy. You take the hint and stop talking.

The room where the party is isn't particularly special. It's big enough to fit about a hundred people. For all the money the company makes, you'd thought that they could afford to splurge a little and rent an actual hall. Now you know what the profits have been going toward. But the decorations are decently lavish.

"Oh, wait." Hood leans in to speak in your ear. Lightning shoots down your spine. "I don't know your name."

You give it. He repeats it, and you shiver, like your boyfriend just said your name.

"'Kay. Stay in this room. We don't know how much Emerson or his partner knows, but assume they’re willing to do anything to get away with the money."

You nod. “Got it.”

“Hey, it’s Santa!” Bill shouts from across the room. “He made it!”

You smile tightly. “As promised.”

A few people wave. Others cheer. 

“These people really like Christmas, huh?” Hood asks.

“You have no idea,” you say, hyperaware of his hand brushing your back.

“Don’t think I got your name, man,” Bill says as he approaches. He sticks a hand out. “Bill.”

“Todd,” Hood says, taking his hand and shaking. Bill winces at the handshake. You hide a smile.

“Ah, Todd. Right.” Bill looks at you, trying to subtly soothe his hand. “You’ve never mentioned him.”

You shrug. “Never came up.”

“I’m pretty private,” Hood says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “But we’re very much in love. Ain’t that right, baby?”

“Th-that’s right… honey,” you say, face going hot.

“So what do you do for work?” Bill asks. “My girlfriend’s a lawyer.”

You roll your eyes. Hood snorts.

“There’s no way you’re dating anyone. You look like you got dressed in the dark, Billy.”

You cough your laugh into your arm. Bill’s eye twitches.

“Enjoy the party,” he says icily. He glares at you, then stomps away.

“That was amazing, but I think Bill might retaliate,” you say. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout him,” Hood says. “I’ll take care of it.”

You look at him with big eyes. “Hood—”

“Not like that. Just… it’ll be handled. Okay?”

You nod. Maybe it’s insane, but you trust him. “Okay. Want some punch?”

Hood hums. “No alcohol. Thanks.”

You go to the punch bowl, a little relieved to escape Hood’s piercing ocean-eyed stare. He’s intense. Whoever dates him for real is in for a ride. 

Then again, you can’t imagine Hood meeting someone for coffee or dinner. You giggle at the image of him showing up with his guns and helmet. 

“Hey, IT.” A woman in a white sweater you’ve seen maybe once waves at you. “Cool idea, bringing a Santa.”

“Yeah, Emerson’s too cheap to,” the man next to her says. They laugh.

You smile. “Glad you like it.”

You serve yourself two cups of the alcohol-free punch. Then you turn. 

Your smile falls. Across the room is Hood and Tanya Donaldson, resident shit-stirrer. She’s trying to cozy up to him. You sigh and walk over, bracing yourself.

“Hey, baby,” Hood says, practically dragging you into his side. He takes a cup of punch. “Just met Tanya.”

You can guess exactly how he feels about that.

"Oh, is he your boyfriend?" Tanya asks, eyeing Hood like he's a slab of steak. “I had no idea!”

"Uh-huh," you say. "This is Todd."

She wiggles her fingers, grinning. “So how often do you go to the gym, Todd?” She rests a hand on Hood's arm. "I didn't know Santa was so big and broad."

Your gaze drifts to where you're pretty sure Hood has a gun strapped to his ankle, and the temptation does appear, you won't deny.

But you need this job and it's going to be really hard to explain why Santa's armed and dangerous, so you just grit your teeth. Tanya's the worst for this kind of behavior and she doesn't respect you, so bringing your hunky boyfriend is like dangling a bunch of carrots in her face. 

And it’s not like Todd is actually your boyfriend. 

"Are you flirting with me in front of my girlfriend?" Hood asks, prying her hand off of his arm.

"Flirting?" She claps a hand over her mouth, the movement slightly delayed from all the wine. "No, oh my God! I was just saying—"

"That's really pathetic," Hood says. "Don't do that."

He walks away and you follow, leaving a wobbly Tanya on her own. You smile to yourself.

"Thank you for that," you say.

Hood gives you a thumbs up. "I can plant evidence on her and get her fired if you want."

"No, I don't want to feel damned for eternity. Thanks anyway."

"You have a lot of assholes at your job," Hood says. "But you're not one. I admire that.”

You sigh. "They're not all bad. Alma is cool. She keeps me from quitting.”

"And where is she?"

"At home. She's a sixty-two year old accountant who doesn't care about these parties. Her hip aches when it's cold."

"Mm. Maybe you should follow her lead," Hood says.

"But then who would help you with your spycraft, Hood?"

He allows himself a tiny laugh at that. You wonder how often he laughs. If ever.

“Well, suffering Tanya wasn’t in vain. She said this whole party cost twenty grand.”

“So?”

He gestures grandly. “Does this look like it cost twenty grand to put this together?” 

It's true. The alcohol is the most expensive thing here. No food, except for some people that participated in the potluck, but you don't trust anybody's food here. The decorations are old. Not to mention the Red Hood as your Santa. Your boss might have spared a thousand for tonight. No more. 

“So where did all that money go?” you ask. 

Hood snaps his fingers. “Bingo.” 

“That is so shitty. I got a chocolate-covered pretzel as my Christmas bonus,” you say. 

“A bag of ‘em?” He shakes his head. “Pretty cheap.”

“Ha, no. No, I got one big pretzel. In a box. The box cost more than the pretzel, I think.”

His eyes widen. “Jesus. Even I give more than that to my guys.”

“Got any openings?” you ask, half-joking. 

Hood snorts. “Don't think you'd like what we do. Why d’you stay?” 

You shrug. “Nowhere else to go. I have to eat somehow.” 

“Crappy boss, crappy coworkers, no Christmas bonus. Hell, I feel sorry for ya.”

The Red Hood feels sorry for you. Perhaps you've reached a new low. 

He drinks the punch and coughs. “Ahem, wow. Did you make the punch?”

“No, some people mixed it here.”

“Oh, then I'll be honest. Tastes like a flavor that's not found in nature.” He throws his cup away. You trust him and set your still-full cup on a table.

“I won't even mention the potluck,” you say. 

“Yeesh. Can't eat at everyone's house.” 

“That's what I say!” 

He winks at you. You look away, flustered. 

The crazy thing is, you could get used to this. Well, not specifically Red Hood, but having a boyfriend to bring to these functions, who’ll warn you against gross punch and defend you against Tanya. 

And Hood is surprisingly good at this. If you forget the past hour, you can almost pretend that this is just another office party that you happen to be spending with your new boyfriend. 

"Hey, look! It's Santa! Dude, check me out with Santa!"

One of the finance guys who's very drunk—you want to say that his name is Matt—bounds up to you and Hood. Hood tenses, reaching for his hip (gun!) and you touch his elbow, reminding him to relax. He drops his arm. 

Matt reeks of alcohol, the front of his shirt stained with bourbon. He laughs, forehead shiny with sweat.

"Santaaa, hey, Saint Nick, take a pic with me, man!"

Matt throws his arms around Hood. Hood does not like that and shoves him off accordingly. But Matt doesn't seem to notice and holds up his phone, camera facing front. Hood slaps the phone out of his hand.

"No pictures," he says.

You wince. The guy stares and blinks, taking three to five business days to process what just happened.

"What the fuck, man? That was my phone!"

"Sorry. I'm drunk." Hood sighs like he's physically in pain, then leans back and makes drinking motions with his fingers. "Fuckin' wasted! Did you try those rum shots? Lit, dude!"

The guy cheers up, forgetting all about the phone. "Oh, yeah, for sure! I'm gonna go get one right now! Thanks, Santa!"

"You do that!" Hood says cheerily.

As soon as the guy leaves, Hood returns to his resting scary face.

"Wow," you say.

"I know. I threw up in my mouth a little."

You laugh. Hood grins. Then it fades.

"Damn it. We're getting no closer to finding Emerson's partner. I should just interrogate Emerson until he tells me."

Interrogate makes you feel woozy. You're pretty sure you know what Hood's idea of an interrogation is.

"Wait! We just need to lure them out. If they think their money might be in jeopardy, they'll sneak out of the party to go check on it, right?" you ask.

"Potentially, yes. But how do we lure 'em?"

"There's an alert if someone withdraws more than ten thousand dollars from the company. But I don't have access to the accounts," you say.

Hood smiles slowly. "You don't need it. Remember I mentioned my computer whiz brother?"

"Yeah…” You grimace. “This sounds illegal again.”

"Hell yeah it is. He owes me a favor too. Lemme call him."

You two go off to the side while Hood dials.

"Yeah?" comes a voice on the other end. He doesn’t sound at all like Hood, more like a one percenter from the Diamond District. This is Hood’s brother?

"Aliases only. I need you to withdraw fifty grand from Emerson Corp,” Hood says. 

"Why?”

“‘Cause you owe me a favor. Just do it.”

“Zombie breath.”

“Shortass,” Hood says, voice taking on a distinct older brother tone. 

“You’re such an asshole,” the voice says. He yawns. “B’s wondering if you’re coming tomorrow.”

“I’d rather die again,” Hood says. “And you can tell him I said that.”

“The broody emo bullshit is getting old, dude,” the voice says.

You giggle. Hood looks at you sharply. You press your lips together, properly chastened. Sorry, you mouth.

"Who's that?" the voice asks.

"No one," Hood says. "Did you do it?"

"Chill out. I'm getting past their firewall. So who is that?”

“It’s the TV,” Hood says.

“No, it’s not. That was a lady's laugh, IRL. And you wouldn’t lie if it was someone we know…”

“Mind your damn—”

“I’m helping him with a case,” you blurt. 

Hood throws his hand up, glaring at you. It’s silent on the other end of the phone for a solid ten seconds. Then…

“Holy shit,” Hood’s brother says. “You do have a girlfriend. Wait. Hold on. This is wild. You don’t even have a social security number.”

“I do not have a girlfriend!” Hood snaps, drawing the attention of some coworkers. You nudge him. He exhales through his nose.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, you little fucker,” he says, quieter. “She’s telling the truth.”

“Can I ask your girlfriend a question? Respectfully, what were you thinking? You can do so much b—”

“Text me when it’s done,” Hood growls and hangs up.

You look at each other for a moment. 

“You didn't hear any of that,” Hood says. “Got it?”

“Got it.” 

“Good. Let's see who gets scared. He should do it right about…” 

His phone beeps. You look around the room. 

Soon, your culprit reveals himself. Matt!

Holy shit. 

"He didn't want a picture," Hood says slowly. "He was frisking me! Motherfucker."

"But isn't he drunk?" you ask.

"No." Hood sighs in disgust. "How did I miss that? Br—someone I know does that all the time, spilling alcohol on himself so he smells like he's been drinking. God. Oldest trick in the book!"

"Do you think he knows you're the Red Hood?"

"No. But he might suspect something. Let's go.” 

You follow Matt out of the party. He's walking fast. Yeah. Definitely your guy. 

Down the hallway, Matt turns around and makes direct eye contact with you. You panic. 

“Hood!” you whisper. 

“I know,” he says. “Follow my lead.” 

Loudly, he laughs and puts an arm around your waist. “C’mon, baby, no one’ll know.”

And then you're being herded into a janitor’s closet. 

You stumble in, confused and reeling from how easily Hood plays the affectionate boyfriend role. He follows you in, shuts the door, and pulls the chain dangling from the ceiling. The single light bulb turns on. 

You take care to not knock over any cleaning supplies. You don't see the mop on the floor, however, and you trip backwards on the handle. 

Hood's reaction time is impeccable. He jerks forward to catch you, tugging you back on your feet with his hands on your arms. 

“Y’alright?” he asks. 

“Uh-huh,” you say, mildly mortified. “Thanks.”

He lets go. You shift on your feet. 

“How long are we gonna stay here?” you ask. 

Hood checks his phone. “Well, he should've moved on by now. Let's—”

The doorknob jiggles. You look at Hood in fear. His expression is similar. 

“Pretend!” you whisper, and that's all he needs to understand and move. 

You're expecting your arms around Hood, maybe exaggeratedly feeling him up. You are not expecting Hood to hoist you up by the backs of your thighs and press you against the wall. You squeal, arms shooting out to hold onto his neck. Hood's beard ends up in your mouth and you spit it out. 

The door swings open, revealing a very tipsy couple. 

“Oops!” the woman says, grinning. “Sorry. Carry on.”

The guy gives a thumbs-up. “True love.”

You smile awkwardly. Something is pressing into your hip.

“True love,” Hood deadpans. “Rock on.”

As soon as the door closes, you're squirming. 

“What is that?” you hiss. 

“My gun! Oh my God, it's my gun,” Hood says, quickly setting you down. “It's not…”

He trails off and backs away. You stand there, processing what just happened. 

“That wasn’t—”

“I didn’t—”

You both stop. Hood adjusts his beard. 

“You're really strong,” you say, wringing your hands. 

Hood nods. “Sorry about the, uh…”

“Yeah, let's just not talk about this.”

“Yup. Find Matt?” 

“Absolutely.” 

You open the door and peek out. The hallway is empty. Glory be.

“All clear,” you say, and Hood is on your heels as you sneak out. 

“Any ideas on where he'd go?” Hood asks. 

“Matt works in a cubicle like the rest of us. Emerson’s office is on the twelfth floor.” 

“Fine. We'll hit Emerson's office first. More privacy, and maybe they'll both be there. Two birds.”

“Emerson's office is protected by a password lock. He changes it every night,” you say, scurrying to keep up with Hood. 

“That's fine. I got a key right here,” he says, patting his holster.

“Wait! If the lock is tampered with, it sets off an alarm and security will come. You can't shoot it, Hood.”

He stops and sighs. “Why is everything so goddamn complicated? Alright, new plan. I'm gonna get my stuff from where we were and I'll break in the old-fashioned way.” 

Fifteen Minutes Later.

“This seems really unsafe!” you say, watching Hood dangle outside a three story window on a wire. He's attached to a grappling hook but still. Still! 

“Eh, I died once. Didn't stick. Hold the hook.” 

“I am!” As if you'd do anything but. You don't want the Red Hood to become Red Goo. 

Chilly December wind makes your eyes water and your nose cold. Still, you hold on. 

“Almost there!” he says. 

“Hey! What're you doing?” 

You whirl around and close your eyes due to the flashlight shining at them. Even though the lights are on. 

An elderly security guard glares at you. It's a good thing you're not an actual criminal… though after tonight, you're not so sure. 

“Um.” You try to hold onto the hook while hiding it behind your back. “Bird watching?”

The guard turns off the flashlight and tucks it into his belt. He slowly walks to you. 

“If you're doing something illegal, Miss, you're in big trouble.”

Well, this is fantastic. Of course it would be you that gets caught. 

The guard is getting closer. Your grip is sweaty. He peers over your shoulder. You let go of the hook, praying to every spirit out there that Hood is as good as everyone says he is. 

The guard looks around and scratches his head. You shrug, heart in your throat. 

“See?” you say. “Bird watching.”

He frowns at you. “I've got my eye on you.”

“And I commend you for that.” 

“Are you sassing me?” 

Are you? You might be. You've been spending too much time with Hood. 

Hood! You turn and look out the window. You don't see any red goo below, but it's also cold and foggy. Shit. You hurry to the elevators. 

“Okay, happy holidays, bye!”

The elevator doors open. You press twelve and close the door before the guard can consider getting on with you and shooting you a hairy eyeball all the way down. 

You hurry out and run down to Emerson's office. The door has been left ajar, which is good, right?

Bang!

You throw yourself against the wall. Shit. Maybe not. 

Ugh, you told Hood no shooting! Son of a bitch. 

“We're doing this tonight!” That's Emerson's voice. “I don't care if I have to shoot my way out.” 

Shoot? Oh no.

You carefully peek through the crack. Hood is standing with his hands behind his head. His beard has blood in it. Emerson is in front of him, gun to his head. 

Hood catches your eye. He gives you the tiniest head shake. You swallow. 

You can't just leave him there. 

Okay. Think. Emerson's back is to you. You can't see Matt, but you figure he's far enough away to not immediately shoot you. Hopefully. 

Anyway, what's your other option? The feisty relic upstairs? You can't risk any civilians getting hurt. 

Technically you're also a civilian but not tonight. Tonight you might as well be Batman. 

You slowly pull the door open further. You sneak in, then hide behind the secretary's desk.

“Is it done?” Emerson snaps.

That's when you see Matt in the corner on a laptop. 

“It takes time,” Matt says, obviously stressed too. 

“Well, hurry up!” Emerson looks at Hood. “Then we'll dispose of Santa here.”

Hood shrugs. “You can certainly try. Many have. ‘M still here.”

“Lots of bravado for a man in a costume,” Emerson sneers. “What are you, police?”

Hood groans. “As fucking if! I'm not a cop.” 

He hums. “Perhaps not. Otherwise this place would be crawling with them already. But you're alone.”

“How d'you know I'm alone?” Hood asks. 

You're glad he's calm because you're feeling the beginnings of another panic attack. But you can't panic, not now. The adrenaline pulsing through you is the only thing keeping you from going catatonic. 

You have no weapon, no plan. How the hell are you supposed to help Hood?

“You're bluffing,” Emerson says. 

“He has a girlfriend,” Matt says. “Some IT girl. She might come looking for him.”

“Then we'll take care of her too.”

Matt looks uncomfortable but he doesn't say anything. Hood is still cool as a cucumber. 

“She won't look for me. We had a fight. I forgot to buy the candy she likes.”

Candy? Why would—oh!

On the secretary's desk is a glass bowl filled with mini candy canes. You wrap your hands around it. 

“She knows my favorite,” Hood says, locking eyes with you.

You throw the bowl with all your might. Emerson is too slow—Hood grabs the bowl one-handed and swings it, knocking the gun from Emerson's hand. The candy explodes into pieces. Hood swings again, this time into Emerson's head. The bowl cracks. Emerson crumples to the floor. 

“Are you o—”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

In a blink, Hood wraps one arm around your waist and yanks you to the floor, covering your body. You curl into him on instinct. 

“I got you, I got you,” he says, patting your shoulder. “You okay?”

You nod, words not coming right now. You squeeze his hand. Hood seems to understand and he scoots you both behind Emerson’s desk. Then he loads his gun and cocks it.

“Stay here,” he says, then fires six shots. 

“Goddamnit!” Matt yells across the room. “This wasn't the plan! You're not supposed to be here!”  

Hood laughs, which is absolutely terrifying. “Don't talk to me about ruined plans, buddy. I've been waiting all night for an excuse to shoot somebody. Please make my night.” 

Matt fires four more shots. 

“Fuck you, cop!” 

“What the fuck? Fuck you more! I'm not a fucking cop!”

“Maybe it's the way you stand,” you say, teeth chattering from anxiety. 

Hood squeezes your shoulder comfortingly. “I stand like a cop? Gross. I gotta work on that.” 

“You're somebody!” Matt yells. “You're not just some guy, Todd, don't lie to me. You and that chick from IT are in cahoots.”

You huff. “He knows your name but not mine?”

“I’d take it as a compliment.”

Matt fires again. Hood tucks you behind him. 

“He won’t kill anybody,” he says, with way too much confidence, in your opinion. 

“Oh, is that why he's peacefully shooting at us?”

“He's scared, sure. But he can’t kill. Trust me, I know. Hey, Matt!” 

“What?”

Hood stands up. Your eyes bug out of your head. 

“Hood!” you hiss. “Hood!”

He ignores you, of course. 

“You won’t hurt anyone,” Hood says. He starts walking toward Matt. “You're not a killer, Matt.”

And all this time you thought Hood was sort of sane. Nope. 

“I will shoot you!” Matt warns. 

“Aw. You wouldn't shoot Santy Claus, would you?” 

Matt pulls the trigger. You gasp. It clicks. The magazine is empty. 

Hood closes the distance between them and grabs the gun, then elbows Matt in the face. Matt sprawls onto the floor. 

“Yeah, I don't risk my life on human emotion,” Hood says, loud enough so you can hear. “People can be so unpredictable. I will take a chance on a gun that only fires seven rounds, though. For a guy in finance, you're not very good with numbers, Matty.” 

You sigh in relief, slumping against the desk. After tonight, you're retiring. 

“Y'okay over there?” Hood asks. 

“Yeah.”

It's quiet for a bit. Then Hood returns and offers you a hand to help you stand. You do so on shaky limbs. 

He's got a cut on his eyebrow and a bruise on his cheek. You frown. 

“I'm sorry I let go of the hook. I thought—”

“You let go of the hook?”

You stop. “Um. No?” 

Hood squints at you. “Choosing to forgive you for that.” 

“I knew you were inside the office!”

“Yeah, sure.” 

“I'm not the only one taking risks,” you say. “Matt still fired at you.”

“Eh.” Hood shrugs. “He’s a crap shot. And I counted the rounds. I maintain my point. Factually, he could not shoot me.”

“You could've told me the gun was empty,” you say. 

“I wanted you to think I was cool and brave.” 

You laugh. “I already think that.”

Hood looks at you for a moment, like he’s trying to see right down into your soul. Intense. You cross your arms.

“So, um, ready to ditch this party?” you ask. 

“With pleasure.”

“What about them?” you ask, pointing to Matt.

“I have backup arriving soon. Let's get your coat.” 

You get your things while Hood changes back into his usual garb. He meets you at the back exit, the one that leads to an alleyway, Santa suit gone. The party's winding down and most are getting into their cars. You're grateful no one stops to ask where you disappeared to. 

There's police outside, but they're not here for Emerson. It's Bill that's being questioned by Commissioner Gordon. You stop short at the sight. 

“Hood… what did you do?” 

“Hm? Oh! There might have been some discrepancies in Bill's finances and he might have committed fraud to pay off his gambling debts. All circumstantial, though.”

“Please don't tell me you framed my coworker because he's a jerk,” you say. 

“No, but I'm not above that, for the record. I recognized Bill from when I was casing the Iceberg Lounge. That's where he racked up all that debt.”

You nod slowly. “That's how you knew his name.”

“Yup. He was a nobody, so I didn't bother with him. Had I known he was such a menace at work, well…”

You grin. “It's okay. I appreciate it now.” 

Hood nods. The silence is awkward for a few seconds. 

“So—”

“You don't have to keep working here,” he says. “You can leave if you wanna.”

“Hood…”

He puts up a hand. “Hear me out. I have a contact at Wayne Enterprises. I can get you an interview. Hell, I can get you the job.”

“And what would I owe you?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Think of it as a thank you for tonight. You didn't have to help me but you did.”

You open and close your mouth. “I don't… I don't know what to say.”

“Don't gotta say a thing,” Hood says quietly. “If anyone deserves a new year, it's you.”

“Oh.” Your throat feels tight suddenly. “Oh, Hood, that's really—that's nice of you.”

“It's been known to happen. Don't spread it around though.”

“But I don't want the job without interviewing!” you say. “I want to get it on my own.”

Hood nods. “Deal.”

You want to hug him but that seems like too much, even with all you’ve done tonight. So you take out a candy cane instead.

“I salvaged one from the bowl,” you say. “Merry Christmas, Hood.”

He takes it, tucking it into his pocket. “Merry Christmas. Need a ride?”

You shake your head. “I'm fine. See you around?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Stay safe, alright?”

“Oh, I will. Will you?”

He laughs. “No promises.” 

Then you blink and he's gone. You shove your hands into your coat pockets. 

In each pocket, there's a handful of Warheads. You smile.

[astonmartinii]

day three: mistletoe and whine | george russell social media au

pairing: george russell x albon fem reader

it's a christmas classic - a bah humbug girl and a christmas obsessed king

christmas song: mistletoe and wine - cliff richard

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 209,504 others

tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: it's hard being a bah humbug girl dating all three wise men in a trench coat

view all comments

user1: the way he's literally wearing a trench coat as well

yourusername: i wasn't lying in the caption - how do you think he's so tall?

user2: now you mention it 🤔

georgerussell63: can you stop telling this joke? my niece just asked me where my two friends are under my coat? in public! people thought i was a predator :(

yourusername: lol

georgerussell63: i knew i was dumb when i thought albons would stop being mean to me when we started dating

user3: i love how opposites attract work - holiday edition

user4: y/n is like an old blue collar man who grunts at christmas lights and george is essex girl winter wonderland final boss

user5: i actually NEED to see george at winter wonderland @yourusername please take one for the team

yourusername: i will never go somewhere that will charge me over £7 for a hot chocolate

user6: your bf is a millionaire?

yourusername: it's the PRINCIPLE

georgerussell63: i don't know how you don't lOVE christmas :(

yourusername: i like it but just not as much as other people !

georgerussell63: you slammed the door in the face of carollers and pulled the curtains after flipping them off?

yourusername: i mean carollers are the worst

yourusername: AND IT WAS NOVEMBER 29TH???

georgerussell63: they were trying to spread cheer ??

yourusername: well they can spread it elsewhere - not while i'm watching i'm a celeb

georgerussell63: heartless

user7: tbf carolling before december even starts is harrowing

yourusername: THANK YOU

alexalbon: george, y/n will never change, you're lucky you even got her to wear that ugly ass christmas jumper last year

yourusername: literally, i am so generous

georgerussell63: you two are as bad as each other

alexalbon: 👯‍♀️

alexalbon

liked by maxverstappen1, lilymunhe and 402,307 others

tagged: yourusername & georgerussell63

alexalbon: is it really december if you don't receive five mayday texts from y/n after george reveals his christmas chart

view all comments

user9: he has a christmas chart ???

user10: why are yall shocked it's GEORGE RUSSELL

user11: i'd honestly be worried if george wasn't making a christmas chart

yourusername: it's a struggle bus

alexalbon: yeah i couldn't tell from the 13 999 messages i got from you

yourusername: he has me on peeling duty ....

alexalbon: YOU WITH KNIVES ???

yourusername: exactly !!!!

yourusername: it's a punishment for not wanting to watch nativity

user12: well he kinda has a point there tho

yourusername: but i wanted to save it - it's like one of the only christmas films i like i didn't want to waste it on december 2nd

alexalbon: okay george i think you're being a little tyrannical with the christmas chart

georgerussell63: we're a two man team !!! someone is always going to get something they don't like

yourusername: YOU KNEW I WANTED WRITING THE CHRISTMAS CARDS THIS WAS PURE PETTINESS

maxverstappen1: not to say i told yall so...

alexalbon: erm max this is albon business

georgerussell63: and russell business ?

alexalbon: no it's albon business - you're an albon

yourusername: babe if anyone is dropping their name it's YOU

alexalbon: albons 4 ever

user13: can george drop the christmas chart template please

georgerussell63: at least some people appreciate my chart

yourusername: i appreciate it a lot when it's not being wielded like a weapon babe

georgerussell63: fine... i'll take you off peeling duty

yourusername: thank you xxx 😘

georgerussell63: you're lucky i love you

yourusername: eh i guess so (i love you too)

georgerussell63

liked by alexalbon, danielricciardo and 583,428 others

tagged: yourusername

georgerussell63: she loves it really

view all comments

user14: i think she loves something else ...

user15: somehow i think we might be getting a sneak peek into the reward y/n gets after doing anything remotely christmassy

user16: i mean i too would also decorate a christmas tree to get george like that

yourusername: but you'll never get the chance :P

alexalbon: GEORGE WE SPOKE ABOUT THIS NO WEIRD PHOTOS WITH MY SISTER TO BE POSTED WHERE I CAN SEE THEM

georgerussell63: but i gotta show the people how i'm winning

alexalbon: well you'll never win on track again if i have anything to do with it

georgerussell63: with all due respect alex, what are you doing from back there

yourusername: george... remember who my loyalties will lie with

alexalbon: i'm sure i have buddies at the front who won't mind doing some community service

georgerussell63: you wouldn't ...

maxverstappen1: I WOULD

user17: max verstappen beef does not stop for christmas

user18: he just pops up in george's business now

user19: qatar gonna haunt george forever

yourusername: i don't love it, i love you

georgerussell63: i love you too

yourusername: you love me so much you post soft core porn of us to get your ass beat by my brother?

georgerussell63: yes i love you that much

yourusername: then i love you so much i'll only let alex get one lick in

georgerussell63: huh? defend me?

yourusername: rules are rules babe and if i have to follow the christmas chart... well alex is allowed to set any punishment he sees fit

georgerussell63: i guess so

user20: this couple cracks me up

user21: how did we go from declaring their love for each other to letting people beating them up

user22: i wouldn't expect anything less from y/n albon

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 278,304 others

tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: mistletoe is the only good thing about christmas

view all comments

user24: i mean... if my bf was george russell mistletoe would be a permanent fixture in my house

user25: i'd climb that man like a beanstalk

user26: so real like give me one chance

yourusername: i will not hesitate to block you all and then block yall on george's account as well

user27: people might say this is cringey but like i'd crash out if i saw how f1twt spoke about my boyfriend

alexalbon: all you do is mistletoe and WHINE

yourusername: you think you're a real comedian don't you

alexalbon: yes i like to think i'm a funny guy

georgerussell63: OMG LIKE THE CLIFF RICHARD SONG

alexalbon: ... yes

yourusername: oh baby ...

georgerussell63: just because you guys have that weird sibling connection that means you get every joke

user28: am i the only one who also got it immediately

user29: no babe it's pretty obvious

georgerussell63: right. i can deal with the bullying from alex and y/n because they're my bestfriends

yourusername: you also like when i bully you

georgerussell63: yes too much

alexalbon: ????

georgerussell63: ANYWAY, that does not mean every random guy and his dog can get in on the joke :(

user30: i have learnt... a little too much about george russell today

alexalbon: you and me both

maxverstappen1: i'm going to stop going at this guy in the media if he's getting off on it FREAK

georgerussell63: no it's just y/n you're safe

yourusername: you're not pretty enough sorry not sorry mr verstappen

maxverstappen1: excuse me?

charles_leclerc: don't listen to them max

alexalbon: how did we get to this point?

user31: tbf i would also whine about mistletoe if my bf was that freakishly tall

yourusername: exactlyyyy

georgerussell63

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris and 629,044 others

tagged: yourusername, lilymunhe & alexalbon

georgerussell63: merry christmas from our family to yours

view all comments

user32: wait the way 2/3rds of the 2019 rookies are literally family now

landonorris: my invite was clearly lost in the mail

alexalbon: the way you told us you 'didn't want to be around you lovesick fools i have a family that will let me actually be the centre of attention'

landonorris: eh that doesn't really sound like me...

yourusername: you also put it in writing in the group chat

landonorris: YOU'RE NOT EVEN IN THAT GROUP CHAT

georgerussell63: oh i show y/n everything !

landonorris: WHAT?

yourusername: and he means everything ... stop putting mistletoe in your pants i did not need to see that rash

landonorris: Y/N NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

user33: once again these fools need to stop oversharing on the internet

yourusername: lando needs to stop oversharing on my wifi bill

landonorris: george !!! y/n just called you broke

yourusername: best christmas ever, i love you all xxx

georgerussell63: no one i'd rather spend my christmas with

yourusername: and i'll hold my hands up, the christmas chart was worth it :(

georgerussell63: any house with george russell in it will have an efficient and effective christmas

yourusername: it was very efficient but almost too much because why were you yelling at alex to 'hurry up with unwrapping his gift'

georgerussell63: ummmm because i wanted you to open the ones from me :(

yourusername: you're so fucking cute

user34: the end of the 2024 christmas chart saga ... you will forever be remembered

user35: and when george turns up in brackley in february with a season chart...

kimiantonelli: i'll kill myself

georgerussell63: EXCUSE ME? ON MY CHRISTMAS?

alexalbon: what a lovely couple of days... i need to detox from being in such close proximity to you two

yourusername: we're literally not that bad

alexalbon: HE SHOUTED AT ME TO HURRY UP SO YOU COULD UNWRAP THE CHRISTMAS THEMED LINGERIE HE GOT YOU

yourusername: well he knows how to make me like the holiday 🤷‍♀️

georgerussell63: just because i thought of it first ...

yourusername: you snooze you lose, i love you baby

georgerussell63: always the best for you my love

fin.

note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME and happy day three of astonmartini-mas to you all. this is a PSA that i shall be going on holiday so this is likely not to be updated until next week! enjoy the previous days and my masterlist as you wait! much love xxx (also my tip jar is at the top of the post if you wanna send me a birthday coffee xx)

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

Be My Wife: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: A “friend” freaks out when you split a Coke with Eddie the Freak.

Warnings: references to A Clockwork Orange, bullying, STI/STD mention, backwash drinking

A/N: So… I know this isn’t a Christmas fic. But I wrote this because I had those times in my youth where someone spread horrid rumors about either me or my friends, and I had to make those split second decisions to determine my loyalty. I always try to be loyal as best I can.

Thank you to @writhingg for giving the green light on this fic. And big thanks to @rxqueenotd and @melodymunson as well. And big thanks to viewers like you. Thank you. ❤️

Resources: @strangergraphics-archive for the dividers.

Taglist: @ali-r3n @melodymunson @twihard28

“Hey droogie, can I have a sip of your Coke?”

You looked up from where you were perched on the pony wall by the Seven Eleven bike rack. You had been chatting with a classmate, Chessie Hagar, about purchasing a purse from her mother’s Avon Colorworks catalog. It was a new collection for the year 1977. Said eye catching magazine with its spread of rainbow themed products was currently held between the two of you, and the pages began to rattle as Chessie shook in fear upon hearing the deep voice.

A flutter-smack sounded from the girl dropping the catalog when Eddie The Freak approached. His stride was casual as one could be, whilst battling both midwestern humidity and pit sweat in a white hand-me-down Jimi Hendrix shirt and sleeveless denim vest. As one of the middle schoolers who had been blessed with a growth spurt, his lanky height, shredded second hand clothes, and shaved head often made those in your grade— and some of those above— piss their pants.

You alone did not fear him.

The Fates had elected to weave you both in a tangled web of coincidences: you had been his project partner in every shared class since you started at Hawkins Middle School together, and you just so happened to live in the same neighborhood on occasion. The distance from Al Munson’s janky two bedroom home to yours was but a hop skip and a jump. Eddie used to ding dong ditch your house when he was six, until one day your mother caught him by the ear and brought him in to mend his tattered jeans and offer up a hot meal.

To any other rando, he was an unstable pariah. But to you, he was just Eddie Munson— the cute boy next door who sometimes ate at your place. And you had become his droog after spending winter 1972 sneaking into the Hawk Theater, and making Stanley Kubrick films your new big boy personalities.

Without thinking, you handed the soft drink over. His fingers brushed against yours as he took the Coke out of your grip and went for a swig, with plush pink lips wrapping around the transparent jade glass of the lip and neck. His protruding Adam’s apple was bobbing with the rhythmic gulping, and you couldn’t stop staring.

“Thanks.” He belched out.

“You said a sip, not half the goddamn bottle!” You whined.

Eddie grinned sheepishly and backwashed a good mouthful. Giving a half assed apology and a promise to pay you back mumbled under his breath, he handed the bottle back.

“Still up for doing last minute project prep?” You asked, swirling the leftovers he’d saved for you.

“Nah, let’s take a break from the train wreck brothers. Catch you tomorrow, though?” He said, scratching a blackhead off his nose and snorting a bit, “I had an idea for the oral report that might earn us a little extra credit. Think you can mimic a British accent?”

“Eh. Can’t do an accent without sounding like fucking Alex DeLarge.” You groused.

“We can work on that. Leave your milk-plus at home, though. Don’t want me own droog reenacting some Roman ultra violence on me.”

“Just don’t go popping out from behind your curtains at me again, that’s a good way to get stabbed in the neck with my mom’s kitchen scissors.” You snorted.

“Ahhh, the droog’s no fun. I guess I can tone down the surprise pop ups, though. If you insist. Catch you later?” Eddie said, waving.

“Later. Peace out, man.”

Chessie let out a shaky, sobbing exhale when you made to drink the dregs of your soda, and you turned and raised an eyebrow.

“Whassamatter?” You asked.

“Are you nuts?! You just shared your drink with the freak!” She blurted out.

… since when the hell was sharing with Eddie a crime?

“Yeah, so? It’s hot out. He looked thirsty.” You said.

“Did you seriously forget everything we’ve heard about him?!” She whisper-screamed, “Don’t you care what everyone talks about?!”

You rolled your eyes. Everyone talked about Eddie. If you hadn’t heard at least one rumor from a faceless student whenever he walked by, you were either stupid or living under a rock. They said he was a bad boy— yes, even with a full vocabulary of slurs and insults available, they still called him a bad boy. Like if he was still in diapers drawing with crayon on the wall, and needed a spanking.

Depending on who you asked, Eddie either did or sold drugs, it was never clear which. Some of the other trailer park kids said he was a mean scrapper when he went to his uncle’s on alternate weeks. Women’s restroom lore stated that he carried a switchblade in the back pocket of his Wrangler jeans, and that he used it to torture animals for his Satanic rituals.

A million and one things were said about him on the daily, but you knew none of them were true in the slightest. None of the talk deterred you from spending time with him. Sometimes he came to your house, more often than not you went to his.

Every other day found the two of you parked in front of his mom’s turntable, jamming to Deep Purple and putting together an elaborate poster board with some spray painted fake leaves made into laurel crowns, along with a block of text about your chosen co-emperor of the early Roman Empire.

You had wanted to write about Caligula so you could use the word ‘orgy’ in the report without getting in trouble, but Eddie had insisted he had a better idea when he discovered a two years tumultuous ruling of brothers from 209 AD to 211 AD.

“As much as I love a good sex party on paper, you just know that’s what everyone else is gonna write about. Let’s write about this nut job Caracalla instead! Dude killed his brother in the arms of his mother, and struck his name from the record. That’s like, the most metal shit ever! Also, here’s a better word for you to learn: fratricide. Apparently there’s a whole list of technical terms for when you kill a family member.”

“… what’s the rumor mill gotta do with my Coke?” You deadpanned.

“If you drink after him, you’re gonna get mono like Cindy! You gotta throw it out!”

Cindy Bishop in your science class had told everyone that had functional ears— swearing up and down on her life— that Eddie Munson had kissed her and given her mononucleosis. A dreaded affliction whose nickname to you sounded like one of the variations of sound formats for any sort of audio.

“Mono…?”

“Yes! Or the syph!”

You knew Eddie had to have heard Chessie’s vitriol. Turning around, you could see him staring at the two of you from across the parking lot, one leg over his bike. There was a stinging look of betrayal on his face. Telltale signs of a wet cherry nose and shameful red cheeks gave away his mistrust; as if he was expecting you to do as your friend told, and throw the bottle he drank from in the trash.

His imaginary affliction was just that: imaginary. You knew that to be gospel.

The kiss with Cindy was real, unfortunately. It happened way before Cindy was kept home with mono, and you remembered the incident well. Eddie had come running to your house just to brag that he’d finally gotten his first kiss, and that pretty soon he’d be popping girl’s cherries left and right.

Just learning about the simple kiss had pissed you off, because the closest you’d ever gotten to kissing Eddie was sharing the same fork whenever you both roasted Vienna sausages on the gas burner in his kitchen. Eddie hadn’t been sick when Cindy stayed home, he came faithfully to school to trap you on the playground and speculate about the thousand and one hidden meanings behind the kiss.

With all the excitement, he never noticed the smallest details like you did. One of the guys in your PE class had been sent home with a rash and a high fever, and it was only a month after Cindy was rumored to have also kissed the collapsed boy that she got sick. You had always shared cups, utensils, and other things requiring mouth use with Eddie and had been fine. Yet Cindy and Tommy Hagan swapped spit once, and both were out of commission.

But no one would ever say anything about Tommy Hagan getting mono. They’d always redirect every disease outbreak to the poor loser who split time between Cherry Street and Forest Hills Trailer Park. The same poor loser who had the misfortune of wasting his first kiss with Cindy; a girl who frenched behind the portable classrooms with anything that had a pulse. People could be so blind and stupid, they failed to notice the sickness timelines were not matching up.

No one deserved their first anything to be with Cindy. Not with the way she stabbed people in the back.

You took a long, hard pause as you stared into Eddie’s wet brown eyes. He was asking you a silent question you already knew the answer to: were you a stinking traitorous droog, or a loyal one? Were you, his one friend in the entire world, going to stand against him?

Without saying a word, you looked at Chessie, then looked back again at Eddie.

In a world of traitors— where brothers stabbed brothers in the arms of their mothers, or where violent men disowned each other with drug laced milk bottles to the face, you would always pick instead to be Eddie Munson’s loyal droog.

You lathed at the lip of the bottle and stuck your tongue down the neck, and shotgunned all of Eddie’s backwash.

Chessie’s mouth dropped open as she began to gag, and Eddie opened his mouth in an obnoxious and breathless laugh as you chugged the entirety of his germs. The carbonation caught up to you, so you let a belch rip before turning back around to face him.

“I GOT YOUR MONO NOW, MUNSON!” You screamed out to him, “NOW YOU GOTTA MARRY ME!”

“IS THAT HOW IT WORKS, DROOGIE?” He shouted back, a shit eating grin stretched across his face, “YOU SHOULD HAVE LET ME KNOW BEFORE I TOOK A SWIG, I WOULD HAVE MADE SURE I GOT YOU A RING POP FIRST!”

“IT'S GODDAMN ROMAN CONFARREATIO LAWS, EDDIE! YOU GAVE ME MONO INSTEAD OF SPELT BREAD, NOW YOU GOTTA MARRY ME!” You joked.

You noticed from the big, smart ass grin that he was about to do something outrageous, and your heart began to sing. He immediately got to his knee on the asphalt, everyone in the Seven Eleven parking lot watching as he began to scream like an orator in the colosseum. He used your full government name and everything when he called out to the small parking lot audience.

“HEAR ME, CITIZENS OF HAWKINS! I AM BUT A VESSEL FOR THE GODS, A BEARER, A MESSENGER OF THAT MOST HOLY WORD FROM MOUNT OLYMPUS! I HAVE SHARED OF THE COOTIE WITH A WOMAN, AND THUS OUR MARRIAGE BETWEEN EMPEROR AND DROOG IS SOLEMNIZED-…!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, FREAK!” Someone called out, immediately flinching back when Eddie rounded on him.

“THE GODS. HAVE. SPOKEN!” Eddie screeched, a glob of spit flying out of his mouth and onto the hot asphalt.

He was wide eyed. Deranged. Eddie lifted up the hem of his denim vest and held it out and to the side, to look like wings unfurling, screaming to the heavens as you began howling with him.

“YEAH!” You screamed out, raising your bottle and shouting every bit of nonsense you could think of, “GOD SANCTIONED DROOG MARRIAGE CO-RULER ULTRA-VIOLENCE! MAZEL TOV!”

“THE IMPERIAL HUSBAND NOW DEMANDS TO KISS THE DROOG BRIDE!” Eddie screamed, “PLANT ONE ON ME, GODDESS DIVINE OF THE REPUBLIC OF HAWKINS!!”

You looked at Chessie, who looked as if she was going to throw up or scream. It wasn’t immediately clear which. Instead of ending the joke, you grinned. Shrugged. The glossy magazine paper pages of the forgotten Avon Colorworks catalog ripped under the tread of your shoes when— without warning— you took off towards Eddie, and planted a fat wet kiss on his mouth. He froze for a moment, but returned the kiss with fervor, making an obnoxious hum and wet smack when you pulled away.

“Yum.” You gushed, licking your lips and changing your cadence to the unhinged Kubrick Cockney, “Them’s tasty cooties, they are, brother sir!”

“Yeah? Them false cytomegalovirus germs are what taste good to ya, droog?” He laughed, wrapping his arms around you and putting on his own terrible accent.

“That they are, sir, that’s what gives all me food and drink that plus flavor.” You grinned.

The two of you cackled, thoroughly enjoying throwing out random quotes and various insanities that to the normal person would put them off of your insanity and edge-lord humor. Chessie had long since taken off for the gated community of Loch Nora on her bike, but you didn’t care. You could live without a selection of eyeshadows, a rainbow tote purse, and all of your false friends if the choice came down to choosing them, or Eddie.

“Wanna go into the gas station and split another bottle of mono before we blow this joint?” You asked.

His grin could have rivaled that of Malcolm McDowell.

“Now, how can I say no to my new wife?” He grinned, holding out his arm for you to take, “But I am a man of my word, so you’re getting a new Coke, plus that Ring Pop so’s we can make this thing official.”

“Spare no expense, huh?” You grinned, and he pulled you in closer. Both of your hips knocking together.

“Hey… Only the best and finest gems and refreshments for Empress Droog the First of Hawkins, Indiana.” Eddie said with a confident smile.

You smiled at him, nudging one another with your bodies all the way into the gas station, until he pulled you in for another sloppy kiss in the middle of the snack aisle.

[rottenherbs]

Lost to Family // G.W x reader

Request: I was wondering if I could request a George Weasley x reader where they have been dating in secret for a while because the reader's family are death eaters, but she doesn't agree with them and in the battle of Hogwarts she has to choose a side to fight and she goes with George? (also Fred lives please)

Word count:1.8k

Authors note: Happy christmas! I hope you guys are having a wonderful winter so far. I just finished this tonight , tis the season eh?

[masterlist]

Much love, Saige

———————-

Your life like many other hogwarts students, were ripped to shreds in a way that wasn’t anticipated. Every moment was under the threat of your demise, loved ones gone, friends choosing to fight with the enemy, face to face with death around every corner.

You were 17. Your life was allegedly in its peak, your body limber and amble, your mind sharp as a tack, your life romantic and soft. The moment the news that Dumbledore had been killed changed everything you once knew. You didn’t know who you could trust, only keeping your boyfriend's family close. Harnessing your new skills of defensive and reactive spells, you retrieved a letter in the mail from your parents, one that you thought would never come.

———

You and George had been facing a practicing dummy in the backyard attempting a new set of spells that Lupin had shared with the younger students in the order.

“Dear! A letter!” Molly shouted from the burrow, echoing lightly over to you and George.

“That’s for you.” He laughed nudging your shoulder. “She doesn’t call me dear, just George… or Fred.”

You chuckled, slipping your wand into your sweatshirt and kissed him on the cheek turning and leaving him to practice without you.

Walking into the burrow, Molly held the letter in her hands, noticeably fidgeting the paper in between her fingers.

“I’m sorry, we had to open it first to make sure it was safe.” She handed it over, the envelope ripped slightly revealing the corner to a dark black cardstock. You furrowed your eyebrows, grabbing it slowly

Our sweetest girl.

Please take this letter as an open invitation, to understand our way of life.

We have met so many wonderful people. We have learned the correct way of life. We have missed your presence dearly.

Power is held within purity. Your soul is pure, you can be saved if you choose to fight for the right side.

We wish to keep you safe, keep you civilized.

Keep you in the ascendency of moral righteousness

Mum and Dad

Your heart sank to your stomach, each passing word taking the breath out of your lungs. Your eyes stung, not realizing you had kept your eyes open for over a minute, reading and rereading the short letter. Your head began to shake in disapproval, tears streaming down your face.

You understood your parents had gone missing during the year, believing their belligerent morals towards Voldemort had gotten them killed. You had mourned them. You had gone through grief in a way you couldn’t describe. The new information that their existence was proven in a handwritten letter had opened a wound you thought was closed forever.

“Oh.” Molly walked over, holding your shaking body, slumping your entire weight into her short frame. You were too distraught to notice George entering the house, rushing over to you quickly. The letter had fallen from your hands, sliding across the kitchen floor near his feet.

Picking it up and reading, his ears had gone red in anger, though his body felt an uncontrollable sadness. He had been with you when you got word they had passed, now standing in confusion, all of the past year feeling like a lie.

It took you a few hours to calm down fully, but you ended up laying down in George’s arms, soothing you as much as he could. Not only had the war been coming closer with each passing day, the new information that your name had been wanted for voldemorts army had placed an intricate target on your back. Would you see your parents? would they kill you themselfs? Every thought that passed through your mind was morbidly macabre. Only the sounds of George’s sweet voice kept you from truly spirling.

“Me and you. I promise. I promise”

-

A letter had been sent to the burrow one night, unsigned yet a small inked paw print placed sloppily in the corner, signaling a message from McGonagall. She had been a set of eyes on the inside of Hogwarts, ready to dispatch help the moment it was needed.

Lighting has struck

Word had gotten to the snake

Unknown arrival

Preparation underway

The letter was short, incredibly succinct but told us we were finally being called to the front lines. Hogwarts would be under attack in mear hours. All of the Weasley family that weren’t at hogwarts had gotten dressed and hugged another tightly, a solemn silence over the family, understanding the implications of what is to come.

Holding George’s hand, he leaned down placing a kiss on your head shooting you a confident wink before apperating you both.

You both arrived in Mcgonagals office, looking around nervously hoping your presence wasn’t heard by the wrong crowd. You waited patiently both snooping around with eachother not ever having the opportunity to be in her office, and alone at that.

Soon the door swung open, a young blonde witch quickly closing it behind her.

“You're here! Wonderful!” Luna beamed, her smile wide and genuine as she looked at you and George. “Well come on. No time for pleasantries.” She quipped, opening the door and ushering you both out. She held up a finger to her lips, shushing you both as you stepped out into the hallway.

Nostalgia hit you the moment your feet clacked against the stone flooring. Memories of the 7 years of wonder and peace you spent in the halls quickly dissolved as you remembered why you were there. The memories break into just small crippling distasteful feelings, leaving you numb as you walk faster down the corridor.

Arriving at a plain stone wall, Luna looked around as the stone morphed into a beautifully intricate door, swinging open just enough to slip your bodies through. The other side was warm and lively, many students laughing together in small piles of makeshift beds and blankets.

You and George were taken into a hug by Ron and Hermione simultaneously, both squeezing you from all sides, comforting you deeply. Once they pulled away, all four of you looked at each other sadly.

“It must be really happening huh.” Ron mumbled, his smile faltering into a straight lipped grimace. “Its still nice to see you y/n, even with the circumstances.” Ron leaned, his smile returning momentarily.

“It’s always nice to see you Ron” You smiled looking around the room once more.

“Oh this is kinda like our headquarters.” Hermione spoke looking around at the room proudly. “Students made it themselves. Those who want to fight.”

The hundreds of students around the room felt comforting and disgustingly frightening. These teens are all willing to put their life on the line for what is right, just like you. All of these children, teens, barely adults, all stuck in a situation that is out of their hands.

———

The fight started abruptly. You and the members of the order took their places around the castle fortifying the sky with a powerful shield spell, hopefully holding out the enemy in anyways possible. George kept you close, determined to keep you safe. Keep you alive.

The sky went silent, the shield sending a glimmering cast over the stars. You and George sat, tired from the journey, holding each other close for as long as you could. You both didn’t know when the fight would begin, but for this moment you two were together and that’s all that mattered.

“I wish it was plant have to end this way” you mumbled resting your chin on your hand. George leaned back, his wand gripped tightly in his hand.

“I know love. We all do.” He mumbled back. Both of you stayed together for a few hours. Out of nowhere a deep pain struck your mind; a voice echoing as if they were inside your head.

Return Harry Potter

You fell to your knees, the pain lingering making you want to scream. George held his head next to yours, his eyes displayed and confused. Had you all heard it?

You both had the decision to meet the others in the courtyard, a feeling of yield over the fight. Having a limited time until they find Harry themselfs you knew you had to reconcile and replan.

Both of you walked hand in hand through the halls. Stone archways and paintings were broken to pieces, rubble scattered everywhere. You felt like you wanted to sob, to stop and feel all of the emotions flowing through your body but felt numb, unable to act on the feelings. You just sighed and gasped as you and George passed your favorite areas, the smoke still filling rooms from fires and spells.

Arriving at the main courtyard you felt safer, surrounded by all of the students you sat in the room of requirement. The feeling of power in numbers. Nothing broke your heart further than when you looked across the bridge two familiar faces looked back, eyes swollen with tears and clothes bloody from wounds.

“Darling! Y/n! Darling!” Your mother yelled eagerly, her smile unwavering and hands outstretched towards you. The crowd hushed at the sound, surprised at the courage of those who spoke so loudly. Your legs became heavy, unable to move or react. Your eyes widened but your lips tightens together, nothing but anger and frustration running through your veins.

How dare she adress you. How dare she show ties to you.

“Mmmm yes. The daughter of my most faithful new members.” Voldemort purred, his sharp yellowed teeth baring towards you. You didn’t move, your eyes making eye contact with the dark lord sent shivers down your spine. You wondered how easy it was to persuade your parents.

George’s hand tightened in yours, looking between you and Voldemort quickly, his body tense and stoic. It felt as if he was holding you in place, the thought that you’d take a step forward raced across his mind. The idea that you’d be pulled across the invisible line between the sides.

“Darli-“ she started again, her smile faltering slightly. Voldemort’s hand whipped up silencing her quickly. She swallowed awkwardly attempting to not show her fear.

“Let the child decide.” He bellowed, prone in this arms towards you, his followers enveloping into a loud cheers. You made eye contact with your mother once more, deciding that would be the last time you ever would.

“I do not belong with you.” You shouted, your voice shaking slightly. George’s hand shook yours lightly in reassurance, your body and mind feeling like it could take no more.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

The Nightmare Before Christmas Lost in The Book: Over The Spiral Hill

{1} {2}

“Hello… You. A wonderful person who sleeps in my arms. I wish you could open your eyes…” 

A voice whispers closely by your head, feeling fingers ghosting over your skin. You recall the previous events that had transpired. The book Grim found on the floor of the bookstore, Yuu and you reaching out to save him from being sucked in along with your friends…

Where are they!?

Feeling your body regain consciousness, your eyes admittedly search for the group, relief settling into you once seeing them asleep near you. Yuu holding Grim within in their arms as they snooze quietly together.

The worry you felt lowers, relaxing into the warmth of the pin-stripped suit holding you close.

Raising your head to the stranger, you feel your words falter in your throat. Dark sun-glasses covered his eyes, yet they lowered when he too eyed you more closely. The color of blood-orange irises astonished you, the brightness in his gaze reminding you of a lit jack-o-lantern.  

“Augh… My eyes feel heavy..” Grim grumbles, waking up as Yuu stands up clumsily with the fluff-ball in his arms.

“Grim! Yuu!” You call out, attention away from the newcomer as his lips tilt into a confused frown.

-

The male that held you previously was named Skully j. Graves, or Skully for short, introducing himself with polite flourish. Until… He gone up to everyone in kind, kissing their knuckles happily. Causing a good chunk of your friends screaming, until finally settling his sights on you at the tail-end of his kissing spree.

“Oi!” Epel calls out to the taller male, about to step in, “Don’t try that on (Y/N)!” Skully ignores the purple-haired student. Walking up to you with a beaming smile on his lips as Yuu shoots you a thumbs up. “He’s a gentleman.” They state loudly as Grim puffs out his chest with a pout, unhappy that his fur was touched.

 Holding out his towards you he bows graciously, waiting for your move, you reluctantly take it. He straightens his body, holding you close as he presses a kiss, eyes closed as yours’s widen.

You grin, choosing to reappreciate you leaned closer, pressing a kiss to his forehead near the diamonds around the crown of his head.

The male pauses, this time, he seemed shocked at such a gesture.

A jovial laugh leaves his throat as he eagerly scoops you up into his arms. Grinning like a fool as he twirls you around, not minding the glares he received.

-

Idia grumbles under his breath. "Ugh... This is nauseating, such a crowd..." He shrinks in his seat during the Halloween Town meeting, "Too many sparkling ikemen... It's like a new costume event in I.R.L..." He bemouns quietly, seeing a few of his classmates stand up to greet the townsfolk as politely as they could.

Glancing at his seatmate, Vil eyes the crowd skeptically. The blondes stare scared him even more!

Hearing the commotion on Halloween should be celebrated, Idia glances at Yuu and Grim and the Ramshackle House-Warden. "H-Hey... What about you..." He mumbles to them, unsure as he fiddles with his tailcoat.

"Hm?" You think for a minute...

"Halloween has a complicated history from where we're from." You explain to Idia. As your fellow NRC friends become interested at your own ideas. "There's so many people that celebrated it differently. Skully's example is actually not too far off from-"

"Eh-!?" Epel exclaimed, shocked. "So it's really dull' for you?"

"Well- I meant to say, since there's so many cultures and religion it just depends on how YOU feel about celebrating. Kinda like Chris-"

"Oh, not that made-up holiday again!" Grim whines as Yuu laughs.

-

[Yay! I really love this twst update! I've been playing a lot! I hope Skully gets a card! I enjoy his v.a's acting for him! Hopefully I can post a part three soon when the event updates again! Thank you for reading! Art, reblogs and comments are super helpful! See You!]

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Need me a Thomas Shelby with “you fell asleep in my arms. it was kind of adorable.” thank you and cg for 100 followers!!

Thank you so much for this request my love! I'm so sorry it's so long coming. Again, I'm studying for the bar and it is crazy with the holidays! Also, I hope you like this! Tommy is not my typical bread and butter but I wanted to give people the option! Sending all my love to you angel! - Mo

100 Follower Celebration: No Man Works Alone

Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader, fluff

When you got connected to the middle Shelby boy, you were warned that life would never be the same. You assumed as much, knowing that their business went much farther than horse racing. You were up to the task. You had been in the Shelby orbit for years, you saw what it all took, and when Tommy made his intentions known to you, you were willing to step up and do your part in expanding the empire.

Polly joked that you were made for this life with the way that you so seamlessly came in. While the Shelby company were encroaching into higher society and government facades, they needed a pretty face to butter up old money hands. When the boys were running liquor and snow and violence, you ran sweet words and high teas with women whose husbands had deep and ancient pockets. Even before Thomas met with potential partners, they were already inclined to agree since you were just so kind and elegant looking. Surely a woman like you would never be with someone not reputable right?

But it wasn’t just the business you managed to soothe and nurture. You also added a salve to the Shelby familial wounds. Some wounds required more care than others. Some would never heal completely, but petty arguments could be solved and begin the groundwork for a more harmonious union. You had stepped in more than once to facilitate peace agreements between the Shelby siblings more than once, “Do it for the children yeah? They deserve to be able to see their cousins and aunts and uncles freely. Shelby’s need each other. And it’s Christmas for God’s sake!”

And no good deed goes unpunished it seems. Due to your expert people skills and kind face, you were put in charge of a Christmas gala for all the biggest names in the city. A dual purpose to flaunt the power of the Shelby family, and to raise funds for a women’s shelter to be built. In the same week you were planning to host Christmas dinner and Christmas morning in the home for the entire Shelby family. Everyone was coming and it was to be a beautiful affair. It’s would be wonderful save for the sheer amount of people to take care of. You had spent the day running around, only to continue into the evening, taking care of your and Tommy’s children; putting them to bed and giving them each some attention in the absence of their father.

By the time you had finished your tasks for the day, it was late, and Tommy still wasn’t finished with the ledgers and accounts. He looked exhausted, the puffiness of his eyes evident in from under his glasses. Sleeves rolled up and shirt open the quiet desire for sleep was coming off him in waves. You wrap your soft satin robe tighter around you as you gently sit next to Tommy. Without looking up from his work he says to you in a gravely voice, "You should be in bed, it's late love."

You shake your head, though you feel as though invisible fingers are dragging your eyelids down, "Mm not tired."

Tommy chuckles as he hears you attempt to stifle a yawn. He takes off his glasses to look at your faltering face. "You're not eh? You sure?"

You lean back on the comfortably expensive sofa Tommy had set up shop on, stretching out the ache in your back, "Perhaps a little. But I don't like not sleeping next to you. If you're up, I'm up. We're a team yeah?"

Tommy smiles, enamored by your insistence. It was one of the things that drew him to you the first time he saw you. Your quiet defiance. You intent to keep people together and not leave anyone behind. It was only a small fractal of how sweet and tender your heart was. Tommy leaned over to gently kiss your temple, "Alright then. If you insist Commander. I'll be done soon enough I promise."

With another poorly hidden yawn you say, "Take your time darling. I brought reading."

Just as Tommy predicted, within 15 minutes you were out like a light. Back when you all were children, it was a running joke that you would be running and playing as hard as you could one minute, and fall dead asleep on any surface the next minute. It never changed. As Tommy chuckled and picked the book off your face where it fell, he was reminded of you as a young girl. Though there were a few more marks and lines on your face now, you had the whispers of your youth still on your face. Your daughter with Tommy slept the same exact way. Mouth open slightly. Arms raised above your head. Utterly at peace. Tommy was tempted to wake you to tease you, but knew you would punish yourself for 'falling asleep on the job'. He opted to finish his paperwork instead, working diligently and quietly so as not to disturb you. Soon enough he was done and put everything away in his desk to pick up tomorrow. Pressing gentle kisses to your face, he whispers against you, "Darling, wake up. Let's go to bed eh? Get you more comfortable."

You jolted awake, nearly knocking Tommy over, "Oh God... what time is it? Are the kids ok?"

Tommy chuckled deeply, pulling you up by the arms, "No no darling. Kids are alright. You fell asleep next to me. It was a bit adorable really. You look exactly like Matilde in her crib. "

You throw yourself back down, "Oh God I fell asleep while you were working! That is not what I wanted to do! I wanted to keep you company!"

Tommy laid himself over you, pushing your arms away from your embarrassed face, "You did keep me company. Perfect company. You needed to sleep. You've been running around. Being the best mother and wife. Being the best coordinator. Being the best aunt and sister in law. Hard work my love. C'mon. Let's get to bed yeah?"

You let him kiss you and take you to bed. Sleep took you both sweetly and quickly. And in the morning you would start it all over again. Waking to your children jumping on top of you with joy, and another list of things to attend to. But as long as Tommy was next to you. It would all be worth it.

[eloquent-edits]

AAAAA DO YOU HAVE MORE FWB PROMPTS THAT SEVERELY TOW THE LINE OF A AND B BEING IN LOVE 😭🩷??

BOY DO I HAHA

🗡️ How can I be friends with this thing called love?

you don’t love me, let me hold you again 🗡️ friends with benefits prompts 🗡️ 18+ prompts

Character A and Character B carpool to events together and usually they take that time to rile each other up, but it’s shifting to deeper, more vulnerable conversations

A, known for hardly ever dressing up, decides to throw B for a loop and go full out for one of their sessions (B has to bite their tongue on telling A they’re beautiful)

B is an absolute sucker for head scratches and A knows this, so they take every chance they can to give that to B

A brings a slice of cake from a family event over to B’s place out of love kindness, and apparently it is B’s favorite flavor (A stows this knowledge away and brings B that cake whenever possible)

“You know, my parents commented that I seem a lot more relaxed and happy around you.” “Seems like I just have that effect on people.”

A is very careful about what’s allowed to be said in bed, but B slips up once and it hits A like a TRUCK oh my gods they want to hear that again and again and again

A takes B out to a park at midnight to spar and they end up sprawled in the grass, laughing and holding each other close while watching the stars above

B sheepishly admits that they sometimes want to save A’s pictures—but not the spicy or sexy ones, just the everyday casual ones!

B pops into the background of A’s call ONCE and later, Character C asks if that’s A’s new partner (this is legitimately what happened to me LMAO)

Both are accident-prone, so a lot of time is spent tending to wounds and ensuring the other person is not in pain

A originally had a boundary of not kissing B goodnight for their emotional sanity, but they accidentally did it once and keep meaning to stop but they dON’T

“Your kisses are so sweet,” B murmurs as A’s lips trace and press against their skin.

Character C, one of B’s best friends, hangs out with A and B twice and comments that they are cute together

^ Both blush and A pulls slightly away from B while B jokes about how terrible it is to have A around with a big grin on their face

^^ As B makes some new friends, C mentions how A is exactly what B’s been looking for over the years

Historically, A didn’t want to sleep over at a FWB’s place to keep feelings from developing, but it’s so easy for them to fall asleep next to B

^ The first time this happened, A and B woke up well-rested and tangled up in each other (which is a miracle because both of them have problems with sleep)

During the Christmas season, A’s family puts up mistletoe over the main entryway. While no one is looking, A hesitantly, carefully pulls B into a kiss under it.

A and B gravitate towards each other even across a big room full of other people, somehow knowing when the other’s gaze is on them

A has a photo collection on their fridge of their favorite moments and over time more and more photos of B are put up

“Oh how were things going with C? You seemed interested in them.” “Eh, they’re cool but we didn’t really click. The banter wasn’t as… good, y’know?” “Damn! Well, if they can’t banter then they’re not the right person for you.”

B doesn’t listen to many song recommendations from friends but goes out of their way to listen to what A suggests (“That was the worst song I’ve ever listened to, that was SO CURSED.”)

After A and B finish belting a song together, A admits that singing songs together is sort of like a love language for them

While weaving through a crowd, A takes B’s hand to keep them close (and totally doesn’t forget to let go until much, much later)

B pulls away as A tries to kiss them deeper, more passionately. Thumb caressing their cheek, B whispers, “I want to take this slow. I… want to remember this moment.”

[engie-ivy]

(Little sequel to You Make It Feel Like Christmas featuring the Christmas market date🙂, but can be read as a stand-alone)

@wolfstarmicrofic 22nd & 23rd: Sparkle & Anticipation

241 words

Sirius and Remus walk past the ice rink, hot chocolates in their hands.

“Growing up, my parents never had enough money to take me to the ice rink,” Remus says. “I pretended not to mind seeing my classmates skate when I couldn't. Then, this one Christmas when I was six years old, my dad had secretly been saving some money and he took me to the ice rink and spent all afternoon teaching me how to skate.” There's a sparkle in Remus’ eyes as he reminiscents. “When we were cold and tired and ready to go home, this lovely lady from the hot chocolate stand, who had seen me staring, gave me a free hot chocolate. It was the best thing I'd ever tasted.” Remus smiles fondly as he takes a sip of his current hot chocolate. “It was a perfect day and it's still my favourite Christmas memory.” He turns to Sirius. “What's yours?”

“Mine?”

“Your favourite Christmas memory.”

“Oh, eh…”

Remus looks at Sirius with anticipation.

“Well,” Sirius says slowly. “It's that time we were at the Christmas market together, drinking hot chocolates, and you just looked so beautiful with that soft, content smile and the Christmas lights reflecting in your sparkling eyes, that I couldn't help but kiss you right there and then.”

Remus’ eyes widen and he blinks. “What? What are you talking about? That never happe-”

Sirius cuts him off by pressing his lips to Remus’.

[wishfulsketching]

What a year, huh.

I'm not going to talk about how everything is going to shit in the real world, that's not what this post is about.

I can remember that before Gotham, I had a bit of trouble trying to get inspired about art. I did end up doing a lot of original art due to that, tho. Gotham was the nice return to a hyperfixation that got me back to creating, which felt like a saving grace tbh. I draw A LOT, you may have noticed. I thank my ADHD for that. So, when I'm unable draw I do struggle spending my time in any meaningful way.

I also started reading again this year. Murderbot Diaries got me by the throat, I love those books so much. I've also liked T. Kingfisher's books so far, haven't read that many yet, tho. I also read in english, not the translated versions, so it's a nice way to "use" my english skills.

I finally started needle felting this Christmas! I've been meaning to do it for yearsss. Bunnydog was my ever first attempt, Slowpoke was my second.

Arcane season 2. Woohee, I had totally forgotten when it was going to drop! It was a good thing tho, I was saved from a lot of painful waiting around, hah. I might've chickened out of the Zaundads fandom back in the day but it's so much more chill now. Well, kind of. I do see people complain a bit in the tags. Plus I bet it's a lot worse in other sites. ANYWAY!

I feel like that in this short time after season 2, I've gotten better at art and got my groove fully back. I am so grateful for people who just keep being so nice and support me here adsfsdfo! I said it back in 2021/2022 I think but I'll say it again: zaundads fandom has been one of the nicest fandom I've been part of. (I have to mention tho, so is riddlebird fandom)

I'm still a bit overwhelmed with all the attention I'm getting, I admit, but I am also so happy I get to share my unhinged love for this stupid little man.

My next year will start with job hunting and balancing my mental health (I've been "in recovery" for years, it's gonna be a adjustment to start working. I am still very much struggling but not as much so I have to find a job that doesn't kill me in a month lol).I've also made one new years resolution which is that I will more actively display and live my preferred identity and not just go "eh whatever, I know how I actually feel like so". Not gonna be easy because I get embarrassed about everything and will want to backpedal so hard at the start but uhhh...I'll try not to? Eh.

Yea. So a lot of new things for the next year and I already feel tired. But hopeful!

I'll end this post by randomly sharing my fave CJU gameplays because his gameplay vids always help me to relax:

I couldn't find the playlist so here's PART 2 and PART 3. I really love the story in this one.

A game I expected nothing from and now rewatch this playthrough ever so often. PLAYLIST

Love the game, love the commentary, love the vibes! PLAYLIST

[redheadspark]

Hi! May I have Oliver Wood with #10, please?

A/N - Awww I love this! Thanks for the request, anon!

Repeat

Summary - Oliver hears something that makes him stop in his tracks

Warnings - Just fluff

“Alright, we need to talk about the Holidays coming up!”

“Do we?”

“Yes!  Especially since your mum is expecting me to come to dinner at least once!”

Oliver rolled his eyes and placed his playbook down in his lap, seeing you perched in the armchair across from him while the Gryffindor Common Room fireplace was crackling with a roaring fire.  Thankfully, it was just the two of you, since the rest of Gryffindor House was either out and about or winding down for the night.  The first signs snowfall was coming through Hogwarts Valley with the first snowfall hitting the castle that evening and chilling temperature.  Thankfully, with the magic that was all over Hogwarts, every room was toasty warm with barely any breeze coming through the corridors or in the class rooms.

The Christmas Holidays were coming around the corner, most of the students were planning on getting on the Hogwarts Express to head home for the two week holiday.  You and Oliver included, the pair of you planning on visiting each other’s homes since your families knew one another for years.  It was also nice that you both lived very close to one another, 3 miles from each other’s homes in a small muggle community.  It was almost a running gag when you two were kids that you both would end up together as a couple, to which both yourself and Oliver denied it and claimed to be friends.

You ended up being together since your 3rd year, to the delight of both sets of parents.

Now in your 7th year, yourself and Oliver wished to enjoy your last year of Hogwarts together as much as you could before the real world would come into play.  It was nice that you both had some plans lined up and what you wished to do as careers, Oliver having plenty of money saved up from chores in the summer to get the pair of you a small little apartment.  You too had some money, and the apartment he found was close to his aunt in case the pair of you needed anything.  

But for now, you were enjoying the holiday season as it was coming around the corner.  You had another week at Hogwarts before going on the train back home, and you wished to hammer out some of the details with Oliver.  Yet true to his fashion, he was pushing it off to the last minute. Of course he had other things to work on, including The Gryffindor Team that was on the path to winning against Slytherin.  

“My mum wants you to come over Christmas Eve, and I know your mum wants me over Christmas night, right?” You asked him as watched up read the last bit of your paragraph of your book.

“Aye, but I do need to warn ya, my mum is invitin’ a few of my Aunts and Uncles to dinner and they’re gonna want in interrogate ya,” Oliver explained as he tossed his playbook on the coffee table in front of him. You giggled, looking up from the book over at him and seeing him watch you with his big grin.

“Should I be worried?” You asked coyly.

“Eh. They’re a bit harmless for the most part.  But I can’t make any promises if the photos of me as a baby come out though,” Oliver explained as you giggled, “My Aunts loved takin’ pictures of me all the time since I was the first nephew for them to torture,”

“They sound lovely,” You commented, stretching your arms over your head to get some feeling back in your arms from sitting in the chair for too long, “Then you know my Dad and how he’ll steer you into a corner and chat about Quidditch for hours on end,”

“I don’t mind talking to your Da about quidditch, you know that,” He reasoned as he ruffled his own hair, “Although his favorite team is to be debated still.”

“You are still peeved that he doesn’t prefer Puddlemure United?” You asked as a joke, Oliver glaring at you though it was playful.

“Chudley Cannons are not as competitive as they used to be!” He reasoned, you rolling your eyes.

“Don’t tell Ron Weasley that,” you grumbled, Oliver laughing from the mention of the Weasley that loved and craved the sport, “Still, I’ll have a word with my Dad in how he talks to the love of my life and try not to have another argument like last year,”

Oliver paused as you were looking at the cover of your book, you not realizing what you just said but Oliver hearing every single word of it.  Only the sound of the cracking fire was heard and the soft wind outside the windows that blew the snow sideways, but Oliver was opening and closing his mouth like a fish like you were still too occupied with your book.

“Can you please repeat that?” He asked, you looking up at him with a raised brow as he faced you from his spot on the couch.

“Repeat what?” You asked, seeing a massive smile on his face. It was then that you realized what was said and you blushed madly, looking down at your book again and trying to avoid his face.

“Oh no, go on and repeat it!” He replied, you shaking your head sheepishly.  He then got up from the couch and glided over to you, crowding you in the chair and peppering your face with kisses.  You sweated, trying to squirm away and avoid his lips but he was far too quick thanks to his quidditch reflects.  You loved  this side of Oliver, the side with his walls down and nothing stressing him out.  Not thinking of quidditch, not thinking about class work, just being there with you and enjoying your time together.

“Come on, say it!” He teased as he tickled your sides and kissed all over your face. You laughed os hard you had tears in your eyes as you finally shoved him a bit to have him lean back. You cupped his fae and kissed him, feeling him melt against you as he was kneeling in front of the couch and keep you trapped in the furniture.  But this time it was soft, the laughter under your skin as you grinned against his lips with another kiss.

You finally pulled away after a solid minute of you two kissing and you peered in his bright brown eyes that looked a pinch lighter with joy, “I love you.  Okay?”

“Good thing I feel the same way too, darlin’.” He replied, leaning in to kiss you once more.

A week later, on the train ride home for the holidays, you two would be snuggled in your own compartment and looking forward to having Christmas together.

The End.

November Prompt Session