#bout to print this and then put it on my moms fridge when i go visit for xmas LMAO everyone must see...behold my daughter...

[choccy-milky]

I've been wanting to paint Clora for a while but was brain empty 😣

Then I saw this dress set and HAD to put her in some version of it 🥰🥰🥰

I've been banned from buying more clothes for the rest of the year so let me live vicariously through her (but also I'm not a ravenclaw) also also I hope that link I embedded works

OH MY GOD MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ME🎅🎅🎅🎁🎁 WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!! the way i clicked on my inbox and then got JUMPSCARED (IN A GOOD WAY) BY THIS!!! im serious the way my mouth popped open in shock and awe was so cartoonish LMAOO. like wdym FOR FREE??😭😭😭your art is so beautiful and you're such an amazing painter IM SO MINDBLOWN RN THAT I GET TO SEE CLORA DONE BY YOU SHE LOOKS AMAZING and in such a cute fit too🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ i fear i shall never recover from this...found dead in my apartment and its kemiichis fault.....ILL STOP YAPPING NOW but srsly im HONOURED THANK YOU SO MUCHHHH🥹💖💖💖

[lovelandfrogispookybear]

17: Run the Taps

Dustin's pov

I pace around Steve's house. They went off to find Murray, and the rest of us are stuck back here waiting for something to happen.

"Guys! There's a radio announcement!" Will calls from the living room.

"I haven't heard one of these in ages," Mike comments. We all gather around the dusty device, and words crackle out of the speaker.

"Hello Hawkins. Due to the recent events and drastic changes in the climate, you are all urged to stay inside. Electricity and water are already on the fritz, so empty your fridges to avoid food spoilage and fill your sinks and tubs with water so you have a water source. Military presence is expected to double, and if they come knocking, please do your best to adhere to their rules. Good luck all, we'll do our best to keep you updated."

"I will go run the taps," El says, walking towards the bathrooms.

"I'll go empty the fridge, Otto, do you want to help me?" Will says.

"Will, do you need any help?" Mike asks.

"No, it's ok! Go help El!" Will says. The smile on his face seems a bit strained, but he must be tired.

"Are you sure?" Mike looks almost disappointed when Will shakes his head.

Murray's pov

I hear knocking on my door. I set down my novel and go to check the security system, before realizing it's down.

"Mother fucker, what's it now?" I ask myself, taking a swig of vodka. "Damn Hawkins folks!" I walk to the door, and unlatch the deadbolts.

"Make this quick, I'm still recovering from that trip to Rus-" I start. "Nancy Wheeler?" I ask, getting a closer look. A pack of other kids runs up behind her. "Ok, what do you all want now?"

"It's about all this that's happening right now!" A blond girl wearing suspenders in the back pipes up.

"Let me guess. You want to use my house as some little hiding place?" I ask. "Because, that was exactly my plan."

"Wait, really?" Nancy says, confused.

"I mean it does seem lately, that every time this little squad of yours has a problem," I start, putting a hand on my hip. "I'm the one bailing you out."

"I wouldn't go that far-" Nancy starts.

"Ah ah ah. Barbra, and BOTH times I had to deal with the Russian government?" I bellow. "But, as I said, I anticipated this. After that first bout of greyness- come in come in- and rushed to the stores."

I step aside.

Will's pov

"Take this jar of jelly, you can make a sandwich!" I hand her a jar of grape jelly as I remove condiments from the fridge.

"Sandwich?" She asks, peering into the jar.

"Grab that bread over there-" I instruct. Otto nods, and grabs it. "Now open the bag and get two slices. Put jelly on one, and peanut butter on the other," I add, handing her the peanut butter. She dips her hand into the jar, and smears jelly onto one of the bread slices.

"Can we add red?" Otto asks as she adds peanut butter to the other slice.

"Well well well, what's happening in here Pipsqueak?" Eddie walks into the kitchen. Otto shows him her sandwich, and he laughs. "Let's clean you up, then we can label those jars with your name so only you can use them, okay?"

Otto nods.

"Hey, when she says red, what does that mean?" I ask as Otto busies herself washing up at the kitchen sink.

"Red is either the expensive steak she ate yesterday or watermelon. If she wants to put it on that monstrosity of a pb&j, I'd say watermelon."

"Otto, what if we try a new red?" I ask. Eddie walks back out to the living room, and I grab a dish of strawberries. Otto grabs the dish greedily, and tears the strawberries into small bits; sprinkling them on her sandwich, She puts the bread together, and takes a messy bite. Her eyes light up, and she shoves the rest into her mouth and goes to wash her hands off again.

Eddie's pov

I hear knocking on the door. I pull it open, and an unfamiliar face greets me.

"Hello Hawkins, I am back!" The face belongs to a bearded man wearing glasses and a floral print robe. "And I brought some more folks!"

"Mom!" Will shouts, running from the kitchen.

"Dad!" El follows, bolting from the hallway.

El throws herself into the chief of police's arms, and Will tenderly hugs the dark haired woman. Otto comes up behind me, and hides behind my legs. After a few moments, everyone breaks apart.

"Well who's this little kiddo?" The dark haired woman asks, motioning to Otto. She steps out slowly, and smiles a toothy grin. The woman steps back a bit, but reaches a hand out to shake. Otto takes it as an invitation, and grabs her arm and shakes it vigorously.

"If it isn't Eddie Munson!" Chief says, patting me on the back. "No drugs here kid, there are children running around."

"I'm here with Otto and Dustin," I stammer, but Chief chuckles.

"No worries. Call me Hopper."

"And I'm Joyce," the dark haired woman smiles. "Will is my son, El is my daughter, and Hopper is my partner."

"And I'm Murray!" The bearded man who knocked at the door jumps in. "Your guys' little squad grabbed me, and thanks to them we now have a tank and a military grade truck full of supplies."

"And a warehouse. Murray drove us by one and it's only like a 20 minute walk from here," Robin says.

"Minor detail guys," Dustin says. "Do we have Max and Lucas?"

"We couldn't go to the hospital. It's in a really infested area and we couldn't risk driving noisy cars through it," Jonathan explains.

"Well we need to get to them, communicate with them. And not just through the void," Dustin shoots a look at El. "We need to get to them in person as soon as possible, so if anybody is in danger we can get to them as soon as possible."

"How are we supposed do that?" Mike asks, walking out.

"If we can't drive, then how are we supposed to get there?" I say to myself. "We don't drive. We take someone who can handle the things out there. You take Otto."

I look over to Otto.

"Pipsqueak? Do you want to go on a field trip?" I ask her. She nods.

[maryellencarter]

So the final cause, if I recall my Aristotle (I was terrible at Aristotelian logic, or at least at what the badly illustrated homeschool textbook said was Aristotelian logic), was that my apartment has been growing irregularly more squalorous for months. Occasionally I would have a bout of energy and put my groceries in the pantry, but for the most part I've been doing well to keep up on the laundry. The proximal cause was... probably the coloring books.

Anyway, this morning I put on pants that were not sweatpants, probably for the first time in months, because going to get vaccinated is a festal occasion and one ought to look one's best. (I put on my cute top with the frilly shoulder straps and the little rosettes, too, since I figured it'd be smart to wear something sleeveless. And my combat boots with the pastel tiedye laces, in case of hiking, which also turned out to be smart. I was decked out.)

So then I went and showed a number of people my ID and my appointment email, and they poked me with a timy needle -- not as small as the one they used in the ER for the insulin that time, I didn't even feel that one, but a very nice thin needle compared to my usual standard of needles, which are the ones they use to try and get blood *out* of you, and often fail when you are me. Then they made me sit down for fifteen minutes in case I took an allergy, and then they gave me a lollipop (I got blue cotton candy, my favorite flavor) and a sticker with a hashtag on it and I left.

Then I got to wend my way back from the place where the vaccinations were happening -- it was a big event on the college campus, since they have a lot of nice big rooms and wide open spaces there -- and it happened I was coming back from a direction I do not usually wend my way from, and I dropped into Michaels. Usually I go to Joann's, because they have fabric, which Michaels doesn't, and Michaels is generally a bit froofier in the sorts of craft supplies they stock at least locally, but the Michaels and the Joann's are right across the street from each other, and I still haven't heard anything about my special order on the floss color that Joann's was out of. Michaels doesn't have the full range of DMC colors, but I took a look and they did in fact have the color I needed.

Then I wandered around some, because Michaels actually does have a bigger yarn selection than Joann's, and I found some Patons Kroy (my absolute favorite sock yarn for feel and texture) in a colorway I didn't loathe, which is *not* something I've been able to find since they stopped making that one colorway with all the orange and black and gray stripes, which I loved dearly and can't remember the name of. So I was like "this will be just the thing for that one lace scarf I was looking at that needs wool yarn in case it has to be blocked to look right", because knitted lace is like that and you can't block acrylic. You can "kill" acrylic but that's different and I'd rather not.

Um. Anyway. Then I wandered around some more, because I get into Michaels so seldom that it's handy to look at what-all they've got while I'm there. Over the past... week or so I have had a sudden bout of wanting to color in coloring books, because that happens to me sometimes; there was an impulse trip to the Walmart way out in the boondocks on the unlit road for Crayola colored pencils, because I decided I was not going to pay eight times as much for Prismacolors.

(The really infuriating thing about coloring books, in my opinion, is that right now you can either find the kiddie newsprint coloring books which are with us always, of course, or you can find "adult coloring books" which are *in-fucking-variably* filled with horses and lions and whales and other large charismatic mammals covered in what look for all the world like quilting patterns. If I wanted to color a rendition of a quilt filled with tiny stripes and polka dots, I'd get some graph paper! And the dots and lines and so forth are so tiny that you can *only* color them with colored pencils, because that's Adulty.)

(Yes, I know they sell coloring pages on Etsy and places. I've been avoiding the print shop for at least a month and a half now, when if I would put the things on my thumb drive and go to it, I could start getting my student loans out of default. I would never wind up printing coloring pages off of Etsy. No, I don't know why. Print shops scare me, perhaps slightly worse than post offices.)

Um. Where was I? So I had gone way far out to the Walmart nobody goes to which therefore often has interesting things in stock, and I had discovered that Crayola still does the glitter crayons I had coveted as a tiny, and they also make double-ended scented markers, which are like the coolest thing ever to the tiny early-nineties child I still am in my heart. So as of this morning, my kitchen counter was completely covered with... things. There was already the sewing machine and the Dr Pepper that doesn't taste like an old shoe, and the peanut butter and the elephant-shaped porcelain wax-warmer, but there had been a narrow slot where I could put a plate and eat my meals -- my only table having been co-opted a year ago by my workstation. Now that slot was filled with various Crayola products and a coloring book with mermaids in it, which at least had a few pages that could be colored partly with markers or crayons, instead of being entirely minced into geometric shapes barely larger than a pencil lead.

SO, what happened after I got vaccinated and found yarn and floss, is that I found out that Crayola still makes the *pearlescent* crayons I coveted even more as a kid. I had gotten one in a little sample pack included with my big 64-box, and it was very precious to me. It's long gone now, of course.

So of course then I bought the pearlescent crayons, and then I bitched at Leia for a while about how I didn't have any coloring books I could use these wonderful crayons *on* unless I wanted to go back to the Lisa Frank newsprint of my youth. (They did actually have Lisa Frank. I strongly considered it. But my tastes have evolved beyond newsprint.)

Then I googled some things, and I found Walmart listing a Crayola mandala coloring book. I went to look for it, and I didn't find it, but I did find a different coloring book with "stained glass" style pictures (sadly not on actual tracing paper, but it occurs to me that if I could source some tracing paper, which it further occurs to me that I haven't seen in years although admittedly I haven't been looking, that I could *trace them* and color them and tape them on my windows like the tacky '90s kid I am), which GLORY HALLELUJAH has spaces big enough to fucking color in!

...Michaels also had neon and metallic Crayola crayons. I might go back. They were 24-packs of each. The single silver and gold crayons from my mom's 64-pack were pretty much only used for Easter eggs in our house, so as not to use them up. I just -- I have a wealth beyond imagining of special effect crayons and markers available to me, and I'm struggling to find anywhere to use them. This seems backwards.

So anyway, then I also found a cute sundress big enough to go over my ass, and then I sat in the furniture section for a while and pondered buying a new table so I wouldn't have to keep stacking coloring books on top of the peanut butter jar in order to eat, and it occurred to me that if I took down my Christmas tree, which I've had up since the Before Times (having gotten it from in fact the same Walmart east of anywhere after all the rest in town were sold out of the particular model), then I would have a space along the back of the kitchen counter where I could hypothetically put a table.

So, because I am a sensible and moderate individual, I bought a thing of string to tie up the Christmas tree branches with, and did not buy a table yet. Then it was time for D&D, so I hurried home and put my vaccination card on the fridge and got into the voice chat and started taking down the Christmas tree.

Then it was five hours later, and I had started konmari-ing the whole apartment in order to have somewhere to store the Christmas tree, and I had discovered that my closet shelf was almost entirely full of empty cardboard boxes, so I had pulled all those out and rifled through them to make sure they didn't contain anything important, and after rescuing three cards from a friend and one glasses chamois, I stuffed most of the boxes in a trash bag, jammed the condensed Christmas tree and all the winter blankets and my air mattress and various other wintry things into the giant box my office chair came in, managed to get that giant box up onto the closet shelf (I have some soreness around my injection site but I honestly don't know if it's a side effect of the vaccination or a pulled muscle from wiggling a very large heavy box into a very tight space over my head), and moved the Goodwill oddities into a midsize box that I think I brought my workstation home in, but they just moved the remaining onsite agents into a much smaller room so I don't think I'm going to be asked to bring my workstation back for a while, and when I do go to bring it back I think the monitors will fit nicely in my washtub.

(I'm giving Goodwill my crockpot. After I forgot the garbanzos in it for three days until the chicken broth started to stink, I decided I am not a person who needs to own a crockpot. Also something like eight skeins of rather ugly yarn because I bought too much for the baby blankets I was making.)

(I'm not sure why I own a washtub. It's bright blue and plastic. It does have a use, which is to hand-wash my weighted blanket in occasionally, as of course you can't put twenty-odd pounds of glass baubles in a washing machine.)

(I certainly did make some life choices that led me here, did I not.)

Annnnyway, so now I have an almost empty three-drawer Rubbermaid dresser, an entirely empty and extremely large Rubbermaid tote (I'm pretty sure I could trap myself in there, but I haven't tried), a mostly empty square ottoman which is also a storage box, and a royal shitton of tiny things like office supplies and party favors that don't *go* anywhere.

"A place for everything" is the really hard part, you know. I achieved it once. Then I moved out of that apartment and have never achieved it again. Once things *have* places, then even if you don't have the spoons to put the peanut butter jar back in the pantry right *now*, you know it has a spot between the Hormel and the Chef Boyardee, and it's way easier than "oh god if I open the pantry there won't be any room and I'll wind up putting the peanut butter under the bathroom sink with the Johnnie Walker Black or maybe over the kitchen sink on top of the Thermacare back wraps."

(You're supposed to store whisky upright in a cool dark place, okay. None of the upper cabinet shelves are tall enough, so I could have put it either directly over the water heater or directly next to the oven. Instead it lurks behind the toilet paper, next to the Clorox wipes and the pre-pandemic Lush bath bomb, which I should... probably use at some point.)

Erm. So then I was pondering what-all storage I would need to source in order to begin having places in which to put things, *findable* places which is the real grail, and -- I think I took a pause to read Dreamwidth and someone linked me a plushie trilobite, okay. I haven't yet entirely decided whether to buy it, but it occurred to me that I definitely have no home for a plushie trilobite, any more than for the amazing Zaeed plushie currently trapped under my cross stitching or the Star Wars Build-a-Bear who was supposed to make Ewok noises until three weeks of freeze-thaw cycle in a malfunctioning package locker did for his electronic squeaker, or the poor American Girl doll languishing inside the ottoman.

So then I was like "we used to have that little net corner hammock for stuffed animals when I was a kid, we never could get it mounted right, but perhaps with fewer cooks that would be a good option". So I googled for one, and all I could find was an assortment of JUMBO five-or-six-foot-long double-deep toy hammocks, obviously necessary to keep your child from drowning in the flood of stuffed animals that have taken over beds in the past thirty years.

(Okay, I was pretty toy-deprived as a kid, the 1980s were not in general what you would call a time of less stuff in American households. Still. I have a twin bed. I can hardly even *find* a toy hammock that wouldn't be bigger than my bed in some dimension.)

So then, it being the aforementioned five hours later with a lot of D&D combined with hard physical labor in the middle, I said to myself, said I, "Hammocks are made out of net, and nets are made out of strings." And by god, if there is one thing I'm better at than another, it is making things out of string. I've never actually gotten around to trying out the whole process of making an actual fisherman's net, which is much more closely related to tatting than to knitting, but I have yarn and most of the possible knitting or crocheting supplies I would need to invent things.

Which, at long last, explains why I have paused to write this halfway through creating a triangular filet crochet toy hammock out of sparkly yellow yarn.

Joann's is having a 50% off sale on plastic storage whatsits tomorrow, but I think I'll probably spend a large part of the day putting office supplies into ziploc bags and hanging them in rows on the wall with pushpins so as to figure out what-all I in fact own.

[rosyredlipstick]

You mentioned you loved YOI and read some good fanfic for it!! Would you mind recommending me some, maybe..?? :')

This took longer then I meant but im real serious bout my yoi fics. gets kinda long so under the cut! 

Okay currently the fics im obsessed with - 

Fics I rec:

The princess diaries au that has me SCREAMING WITH EVERY UPDATE OMG it has such an amazing aesthetic and plot and i ADORE all the characters and this victor???? Wow. amazing.

Seek those who fan your flames by @ebenroot

summary :

Yuuri gets hand-delivered a black-print T-shirt by one of his bodyguards on Friday. There’s a small sticky note attached to the collar in Victor’s handwriting that reads: ‘Our new band shirt! Logo is still a work in progress. Name too. But it’s a start! Let me know what you think after school. - Victor’

There’s a heart next to his name that is hastily scribbled out. Then another heart next to that one, like Victor decided to put it in anyways.

Yuuri thinks he’s in love.

–

in which Yuuri is a teenager that’s actually a prince, and Victor is a teenager with a band that just wants to listen to rock music with him

i love yurio here’s a fic with him prominently i love it

along with the popular fandom troupes of pining viktor and secretly caring yurio, there’s the troupe of yuuri being a beautiful idiot without realizing it i love them all

in wine we trust  by @fireblazie

summary:

Yuri peers into the expanse of the apartment and finds a single, flickering light in the kitchen. He stealthily tiptoes across the floor with the baseball bat clutched tightly in his fists, only to find that, what the hell, this bastard is actually fucking raiding his fridge.

“That’s my pirozhki, asshat!” he snarls, ready to swing his bat when the intruder turns around.

Shit, Yuri thinks. It’s Beautiful International Student Yuuri Katsuki.

IM A BITCH FOR OFFICE AUS. LIKE. OH MY GOD.

I seriously adore everyone in this fic. Omg. ive read it so many times at this point it’s unbelievable. Wow.

the season of the spirits by counterheist / @kixboxer

summary:

Yuuri wakes up to one hell of a headache, a tie he doesn’t recognize knotted around his wrist, and two fistfuls of banknotes cradled to his chest.

~

An AU about cubicles, and the people who work in them.

THIS IS CURRENTLY ONE OF MY FAVORITE FICS EVER IT’S A STAR TREK AU MY GOOOOOOD I LOVE IT!!!!

everything here is amazing omg captain viktor and first officer yuuri with heavy heavy pining omggggggg yaaaas

To Boldly Go by @xyloophones

summary:

“Yuuri!” Viktor calls. “I’ve come to rescue you!”

Yuuri stares at him blankly. He gestures to the various unconscious space pirates with his recently discharged phaser.

“Oh, Captain,” he deadpans. “Save me.”

Or:

A year in the life of badass science officer Yuuri Katsuki, Captain Viktor “Team Mom” Nikiforov, and simultaneously the best crew and worst crew in Starfleet history.

ok so this next fic isnt finished BUT it’s the funniest fic i’ve ever read in this fandom. omfg. i was laughing so hard at every chapter pls read. it’s a speed dating au AND IT’S HILARIOUS also there’s phichit\seung-gil in this which i didn’t even know was a thing\didn’t ship UNTIL THIS FIC IT’S JUST A SIDE PAIRING BUT I LOOOOVE IT AND BOTH OF THEM

Speed Dating (Let’s Take it Slow) by @apalettefullofyou

summary:

“Why like this?” Yuuri asks, breaking the silence.

Phichit grins. “Because desperate times call for desperate measures. And if you haven’t noticed, we’re desperate.“

Tired of watching Georgi mull over his recent breakup, Viktor and the gang take him speed dating, hoping one of the twenty-something strangers could help fill the hole in his heart.

Now if only he could stop crying.

u like royal au?????? am i bout to blow your MIND

this is THE royal fic. so so so good. gods. the characterization. the pining. the povs. everyone is written so well OH MY GOD ITS SO GOOD.

The Rules for Lovers by  @adreamingsongbird

Prince Yuuri Katsuki has a duty to his country, above all else (his desires, his dreams, and his happiness included), and he knows this alliance will help to ensure the safety of his people. That’s the only reason he accepts Prince Nikiforov’s hand in marriage. The pleasant surprise, of course, is the part where they fall in love along the way. The unpleasant one, well…

That’s a long story.

I went through a superheroes phase and this fandom is the best enabler. Pls check out this superhero series, like, even if you’re not that big of a fan. It’s so wonderful throughout and intriguing and god, the plot sucks you in so well. The characters and their powers are handled so well and tbh im so invested

The Yuuri!!! On fire series by @hinatella

Summary:

A detailed exposé of what working with an ex-villain is like, as told by a very distraught Yuuri Katsuki. (P.S.: it isn’t the fact that he’s an ex-villain that Yuuri is close to losing his mind.)

so! cute! domestic life after yuuri and viktor move back to russia!! so cute!!! omg!!!!

Safety Hazards in St. Petersburg by @lucycamui

summary:

In which Yuuri moves in with Victor in St. Petersburg and Victor discovers just how distracting living with him can be.

Alternatively titled, How Many Ways Can Victor Hurt Himself? or Idiots in Love

Authors I advise to immediately read everything they produce because fUCK

Ebenroot - they wrote the princess diaries fic above but jfc. Jfc. there’s so much more. They’re doing a fairy tale au that i scream into a pillow every time it updated. Everything they write is just so purely GOOD dear GODS

Xylophones i recced their star trek series above BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE! They did a halloween week of fics that im still obsessed with (GO READ MOONSTRUCK PLEASEEEE!!!) so there’s a ton more to check out!!!

Thehandsingsweapon / @handsingsweapon *opens coat* u want some wonderfully developed characters? Some of that good character development shit?? The best parents i’ve ever read for sir victor nikiforov?????? Literally please read these fics for the pure existence of victor’s wonderful lesbian mothers. God. its all i want in life and i have to live vicariously through these fics.

Spookyfoot / @spookyfoot if for some odd reason you dont have the time/will to read 30 wonderful yoi fics, for the love of god please read their spy/mistaken identity fic. God please. It’s been months since i got the notification email for it and i STILL LAUGH FROM THE THOUGHT OF IT. so good. im in love. 

okay okay, it’s sunday night and im using this to stall doing my homework but i should go now. let me know if you want anymore!! lol it might take awhile for me to finally answer the ask but ill get to it!!! 

[sailor-slam-dunk]

Christmas Eve Service

hhgghhh chrimmis fic

Tagged: @heelnev​ [whose post format i am stealing here hah a ] @transboy-tyler-official​ [message me if any of you would like to be tagged in the future!]

Oneshot

Fandom: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: N/A

Relationships: Cedric Alexander/Enzo Amore

Characters: Cedric Alexander, Enzo Amore

Other: Christmas Fluff, Family Bonding, tfw you get roped into going to a christmas eve service with your boyfriend's intimidating relatives

Summary: Enzo wants to spend Christmas Eve alone with Cedric. He ends up at church instead.

[ao3 link] [text below cut]

“OH no, no, no, no,” Cedric exclaimed as he threw a blanket over Enzo. “Oh, no. Not tonight, not right now. Absolutely not.”

Enzo’s lip curled in a pout as he sat up in Cedric’s bed. He tried to throw the comforter back off, but Cedric was already pinning it back over his chest (lest he…expose himself, again) with one hand, the other busily buttoning a starchy white shirt up his own neck.

“Ya serious?” Enzo whined as he sat up again, this time careful to keep himself covered. “It’s fuckin’ Christmas! Ya gonna ice me out on Christmas?”

Cedric’s attention was now turned to the mirror, hands busily trying to fumble a knot to secure his necktie. “First of all, it’s Christmas Eve,” he said brusquely. “Second, that’s exactly why I’m doing it. Damn—” A muted stream of swears left his mouth as he failed again with his tie. Enzo beckoned Cedric to the side of the bed with a curl of his fingers, and, apprehensively, Cedric knelt down by the edge. Enzo twisted and reached over, and started to undo the ungodly thing that Cedric had somehow managed to put in the fabric and retie it.

“Bright red? Real festive. What’s the occasion, huh?”

“Since when did you know how to do a necktie?” Cedric asked, his brow knitted together with confusion. “Your definition of formal wear is putting on pants.” Enzo glared up at Cedric as he finished up the new clean, straight knot.

“Yeah, a’ight, hilarious; now answer my question? Where ya goin’? Especially when you could…” Enzo paused, and pulled Cedric in by the end of his tie, bringing their faces just inches apart, “Keep me n’ the bed warm?”

Cedric flushed red as he gave Enzo’s shoulder a shove. “Church, dipshit. I’m going to church. Pretty sure you’ve heard of it?” Cedric punctuated this thought with a little slap to the cross tattoo adorning Enzo’s left arm. Now it was Enzo’s turn to blush, holding the skin that Cedric had just brushed against.

“Thought Christmas was ‘bout spendin’ time with family n’ friends and shit…” He grumbled, turning his face down to his knees, tented below the blanket. Cedric sighed, turning around to face Enzo, hands resting behind him on the vanity.

“Well, I got my mom and grandma downstairs waiting on the couch in their Sunday best. They’ve been waiting on me for the last fifteen minutes, we’re probably already late. And if you think I’m going to look into my old, black, octogenarian grandma’s eyes and tell her that I am skipping a Christmas Eve service because a perverted white boy stumbled in through my—how did you get here?”

“Window,” Enzo said, as simply as if it were nothing.

“—Through my window and into my bed to have sex with me, we’re both going to hell on the spot.”

Enzo exhaled through his teeth and looked away. He kind of hated it when Cedric was right, because it made him feel a bit stupid. “Alright, fine, ya win,” he grumbled at the ceiling, “go ahead. I can find my way back out—but I might, ah, steal a carton of nog from ya fridge first, a’ight?”

Cedric sighed again as he looked Enzo over. He knew that he had been right, but Enzo had a point as well: it was the season to spend time with family and friends. He had the family waiting downstairs, and Enzo…well, he was sort of dwelling in that space between “family” and “friend” with Cedric, even though neither of them really knew how he’d ended up there.

“Do you…” Cedric started slowly, but Enzo’s head had already snapped to attention so quickly that he kind of chuckled. “Do you, maybe…wanna come with?” Already, Enzo was squinting at Cedric, so he quickly added, “yes, I’m serious. I can’t just leave you alone here on Christmas Eve.”

A peculiar expression came over Enzo’s face as he bit his lips, and Cedric had difficulty figuring out whether or not it was excitement.

After a minute’s deliberation, Enzo shrugged his shoulders. “Why the hell not? It’s not like I got anything else to do with you outta commission.” He threw the bed sheets and blanket aside (Cedric was careful to look up at the ceiling and away from him) as he sat up, and set about pulling his tight pair of black jeans—gaping holes ripped into the knees—up his waist. With his other hand he fished around behind the pillows, and pulled out a garish jacket, printed in patches of leopard and tiger and zebra and God-Knows-what-else-skin, and Cedric nearly cried out in despair.

“Oh no you don’t!” He exclaimed, snatching the jacket away from a very offended Enzo’s hands.

“Hey!”

“You are not gonna set foot in church dressed like that,” Cedric scolded, throwing the jacket into the nearby hamper.

“Fuck do you want me to do, then? Go naked?” Enzo folded his arms up over his bare chest. Cedric scratched the sides of his head as he thought for a moment, but then brightened with an idea.

“Hang on a sec,” Cedric said, turning around, hands going to work pulling open the closet door and a flurry of drawers. Black socks, slacks, and a dress shirt fell down onto the bed around Enzo in a blizzard, each of which Enzo picked up and inspected in his hands.

“Ya want me to wear these?” Enzo said, almost incredulously.

“Why not?” Cedric asked, handing Enzo a small hairband he’d found. “Get your hair back, by the way.” Enzo stretched the band over his wrist, and then unfurled the pale blue shirt against his own chest. His expression was skeptical.

“Don’t think you n’ me wear the same size, big fella,” Enzo said. Cedric patted his cheek reassuringly, causing him to redden.

“Don’t worry about it. Besides, it’s better than what you had on.” With that, Cedric moved up towards the door. “Be down in the next ten minutes, or else my mom is going to kill me, and then you. In that order.”

“Where are you gonna tell ‘em I came from, huh?” Enzo smirked wryly as he pulled his hair back into a frizzy bun. He was met with a similar smirk from Cedric.

“Came in through the window, remember?” Cedric started to walk out the door, but stopped short, and turned around to face Enzo one more time.

“By the way,” he said, gravely, “don’t swear. And if you start whining within the first minute, I’m gonna haul you over to the cross and nail you right up there next to Jesus. Got it?”

Enzo waved Cedric off with his hand as he pulled the shirt over his elbows. “We Gucci! Don’t worry about it!”

Cedric thought that he certainly hoped so, and pulled the door shut behind him.

/

To Enzo’s credit, he stuck to his word. He waited until two minutes of the sermon had passed before he started complaining.

“How long is this?” Enzo said in a low groan from his throat. He then winced as a sharp elbow was drawn into his side (courtesy of Cedric’s mother, “madame Alexander” as he mentally termed her) for the third time in a row. He bowed his face further into the program card to avoid Cedric’s gaze, which he knew was twisted with a smug amusement that would fill him with resentment if he saw it.

“It’s two hours, Enzo,” Cedric whispered softly, and Enzo cringed to hear the smirk in his voice.

Simultaneously, as he pretended to read over the program, his mind boggled—two hours for what? In what dimension should it take two hours to explain to a room full of dedicated Christians the meaning of this holiday? Enzo thought to turn to ask Cedric, but evidently Cedric must have sensed that first, because before Enzo could even move Cedric had jabbed his own elbow into Enzo’s side, leaving him wheezing and pinched on either side of his torso. Three different “shush”es came from indistinct corners of the room, and Enzo hunched his shoulders inward with embarrassment. He felt eyes upon him—Enzo assured himself that it was primarily because he’d been too loud, once again, but all night he had, in the back of his mind, suspected another reason. Primarily, that he was a white man—not that he was the only one; this church turned out to have a rather equitable mix of races all across the board. But Enzo was a white man sitting in the middle of a black family, that he, very obviously, didn’t claim any relation to, unless they perhaps had adopted him. And Enzo assumed that Cedric’s family had been members of this church for a while, so that was definitely out of the question, unless he was one of those rare (so rare that they probably didn’t exist) children who got adopted in their 30s.

Not to mention, he was, again, a man. There was nothing inherently wrong about that, either, except that he was a man curled up against Cedric’s side—he consciously inched away now—much closer than any brother or friend would be. Of course, he didn’t want to accuse anybody in this church of anything, because he didn’t know any of them, but…Enzo just felt so uncertain, all of a sudden. He was certain that someone was judging him, and—worse yet—judging Cedric because of him.

Or maybe it was how he was dressed? Enzo was used to that sort of thing being the reason for many disbelieving stares, but then he gazed down at the stiff, plain shirt rumpled over his chest and suddenly remembered that he wasn’t in his usual sort of attire. On one hand he was glad for this, because Cedric has certainly been right about the clothes he’d had on earlier. If Enzo had tried to enter like that he probably would have been banned from the church. But, on the other hand, he still didn’t look quite right—as he’d expected, Cedric’s shirt was too big for him (for a moment he felt a twinge of shame over his lanky frame) and hung loose from his chest in a large bubble, making him appear awkward and thin. Enzo felt like—he grumbled softly again, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles of his unfortunately baggy slacks—a complete geek. A complete geek in an unfamiliar place with a bunch of unfamiliar people—well, except for Cedric. Enzo found himself instinctively scoot a bit closer to Cedric’s side. At least he radiated a familiarity, a sort of safe spot that Enzo could hitch himself to.

For a moment, his hand brushed against Cedric’s, whose head snapped up as if he expected some other dumb remark to come from Enzo’s mouth. Instead he just found him looking confused and concerned, and Cedric’s expression softened as he gave Enzo’s hand a quick, reassuring pat. Enzo took a breath in and nodded as he tried to ease back into the sermon, though he didn’t have the faintest clue what he was even pontificating about.

Then, suddenly, everyone rose up from the pews. Enzo stumbled up a full second late, and Cedric reached out as if he meant to steady him. From either side, around his shoulders, Enzo spotted the inquisitive stares of Cedric’s family, and suddenly pined to be able to shrink all the way down into that stupid shirt like a turtle. As he attempted to straighten himself out, he noticed as everyone reached down into the wood racks in the seats before them, and pulled out a small book, which seemed to be of—oh.

“Aw, Jes—” Enzo somehow managed to catch himself early, though he still earned a rather stinging glance from the corner of Cedric’s mother’s eye. He mouthed a tiny apology as Cedric leaned over.

“What’s the matter?” He whispered against Enzo’s ear. Enzo gruffly pulled a songbook out from the rack.

“We’re gonna sing?” Enzo said in despair. Cedric’s lip wrinkled sardonically.

“You ever go to a church where you didn’t sing?” He asked. Enzo flipped through the pages of the book, trying to find his place.

“In Catholic church we mostly just drink wine and yell,” Enzo admitted, trying not to groan as his eyes took in the scattered notes of the sheet music. Yet, in his peripheral, he saw a small smile crawl over Cedric’s face.

“That explains everything about you,” Cedric said. Enzo could hear a small chuckle being bitten off in his breath, and he suddenly felt a bit more at ease.

A hymn started up from the pianist on the stage, and Enzo felt eyes on him the moment he opened his mouth. He winced to hear his own voice croak out into the first few lines of “Adeste Fideles”—was that the harmony? He thought as he felt sweat bead on his neck. How in the hell did these people learn the harmony? Most people he knew barely had a grasp on the melody. Enzo’s voice lowered sharply—a rarity—with embarrassment as he tried to hide his face with the songbook. Cedric turned his head slightly and took notice, quietly taking a step closer to Enzo’s side. He pulled the book down from against Enzo’s nose and to a distance where he could reasonably see the notes. Softly, Enzo heard Cedric’s voice close to his ear, providing him a buoy to cling to and try to find his place. For a moment Enzo about melted, before remembering that he was in the house of God—he shouldn’t have been so taken in by it, because Cedric wasn’t trained, either, and his voice warbled faintly as he struggled to quite find certain notes, but to Enzo he sounded almost perfect, and for a minute he wanted nothing more than to just listen to him perform. But nevertheless, Enzo pulled himself to reality and muttered along, trying to turn the awkward strains of his throat into song. As he listened to himself he brightened a bit. It was as if just having Cedric to guide him made him better.

Then—how strange—Enzo thought he heard two other voices, female, crowding closer to him. He glanced off to either side, careful to keep paying attention to Cedric’s voice guiding him, and flushed as he found that both Cedric’s mother and grandmother had lowered down to their level. Enzo looked upon madame Alexander to his left inquisitively, and his heart almost stopped when she smiled at him faintly. They were trying to help him—a thought that made Enzo’s heart swell up for a bit as he found himself raising up his voice a bit louder.

It was like being in a family, for a moment.

/

Even after the two hours had passed, and all of them were standing out by the cars in the parking lot, everyone was still smiling. Enzo thought this a bit odd, because he knew he’d been more than a bit of a pest that night; but he didn’t know the last time he had people as respectable as Cedric’s family smiling at him to any capacity, so he didn’t even dream of questioning it, and smiled back at them warmly and shyly. At the end of his arm—he had to look down to confirm it, because he almost didn’t believe—Cedric’s hand was tightly entwined with Enzo’s own, fingers clasped shut and squeezing. Pink scattered along Enzo’s cheeks, and he suddenly couldn’t remember whether or not Cedric had told him if he’d come out about the two of them to his family yet. But, then again, Cedric was being suitably obvious with the way he clutched Enzo’s hand, stroking his knuckles with his thumb, and yet his mother simply kept chatting and laughing as if she thought nothing of it. Enzo felt his eyes sting, in the best way possible, as he realized this.

Cedric even reached over to Enzo’s hand a couple of times on the drive home, holding it down under his palm on the console between the seats. Enzo, in the passenger seat, still worried about his place there, turning his head back several times to Cedric’s grandmother to tell her that if she needed this seat, she could have it, but she insisted that she was just fine where she was (and Enzo swore that, at least once, she said that while her eyes squared in upon Cedric’s hand resting on his).

And yet, when they parked in front of Cedric’s house, Cedric grabbed Enzo’s shoulder as he tried to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“You stay here a minute,” Cedric said. Enzo blinked in confusion, watching as Cedric led the two matriarchs out of the car and into the house, leaving him sitting in the car with a coat around his shoulders.

In about ten minutes, Cedric came bounding back out to the car with quick strides. Enzo opened the door, ready to meet him outside, but Cedric was already leaning in and kissing his lips hard, almost pressing Enzo’s head into the driver’s seat. In a moment he pulled back, and Enzo sprung back up like a spring, eyes wide and cheeks tinged red.

“How you doin’…” He murmured, a confused smirk edging into his face. Cedric returned to him a bright and earnest smile, one that made Enzo’s heart tremor, as he leaned in to press another kiss into Enzo’s forehead. He stepped back and shut the door, before quickly reappearing through the driver’s side door and settling in behind the wheel.

“You did good behaving, tonight,” Cedric said as he pulled the seatbelt across his chest. “Mama and grandma were real impressed—and so was I!”

Enzo felt a pang of pride in his chest at Cedric’s words, but still, he had to ask. “Why ya strappin’ in? We goin’ somewhere?” Cedric turned to him with a smile that bordered on mischievous.

“Well, you behaved so well tonight, and my family’s at my house, so…I told them we’re gonna go back to your place for a bit.”

The red tinge in Enzo’s cheeks darkened, and Cedric couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, no, not that…necessarily.” Cedric reached out to Enzo’s red face, and cupped a hand over his cheek. Enzo pretended to roll his eyes at the affection, even as he tilted his head closer into Cedric’s palm. Cedric smiled at the adoring look in Enzo’s eyes. “I do want to kiss you when we get there, though. A lot.”

“Alright, I-I…sure, I…” Enzo’s eyes widened as he stammered. Wait, what did he mean, just “sure”? Of course he wanted to go—but something in his brain was stopping him. “Actually…can we go back inside here first?”

Cedric raised an eyebrow, releasing the seatbelt and winding it back into the wall. “Why? I mean, sure, but why?” He asked. Enzo bit his lip.

“Just, ah…wanna thank your family for having me tonight, maybe talk for a little bit?” Enzo felt a hot rush of embarrassment as he recognized the amusement in Cedric’s eyes. Cedric climbed back out of the car, and soon was opening Enzo’s door, offering a hand to help him out—a hand that Enzo took.

“Alright, fine,” Cedric said with mock-weariness, “we’ll go have a brief chat with the in-laws.”

Enzo beamed in a way that was nearly blinding, and he nuzzled the side of Cedric’s face.

“Thanks, babe.”

/

Of course, “a bit” turned into “the rest of the night”, and when Enzo woke up with an arm around Cedric on the downstairs couch of the latter’s home, he was a tad bit embarrassed. But, when Cedric’s mother and grandmother came down, and soon they were all drinking coffee, Enzo found that he didn’t mind all that much��in fact, he didn’t really care at all.

It was always nice to spend Christmas with family.