#911 secret santa

[watmalik]

@alrightbuckaroo the time has come and this is your @tarlos-santa gift from moi!

I just had a hunch that you just HAD to like bring it on, bc I fudging love it and I believe everyone born in the nineties or early 2000's, with a moderate good taste in movies must love it as well (yes, it's an official stat, trust me bro… NOT). Anyways, Merry Christmas/Happy holidays! hope this is worthy of Torrance and Cliff (my take ofc) 🫡 This was for the domestic prompt and I added Lou II because you can't ever go wrong with adding him :) !

[freneticfloetry]

So I'm two days late with Starbucks, but I'm here. (Does this count toward Seven Sentence Sunday?)

The Reyes family has opened their hearts to him in so many ways. Tonight, TK’s determined to open their home in return, no matter how clueless — or Carlos-less — he might find himself in the process.

Three days of discovering new traditions.

“Okay,” TK says, frowning up at the underside of his favorite jawline, “I’m confused. I thought there were twelve days of Christmas.”

In general, this is a love letter to the mass insanity that is the Mexican holiday season. Specifically, it's a @tarlos-santa gift especially for @sugdenlovesdingle!

esta noche es de alegría (read on AO3)

It’s technically a three-parter, but could be read as a slice-of-life standalone. Will update again on Saturday, and finish up the Saturday after that.

As always, huge thank you to @ambiguouspenny for all the support in my time of flailing (especially since they were plotting in the process).

Merry Christmas Eve to all those who celebrate!

[moviegeek03]

Homesick Christmas (Tarlos Secret Santa)

4.5K | AO3

Summary: Traveling was not Carlos's favorite thing. He much preferred being home. Being with family. But, with Christmas being a bit different this year, TK has suggested a Christmas getaway for the two of them, complete with snow and a Christmas market in the mountains. It should be perfect. Even if it isn't what he really would want for himself. But, maybe, just maybe, TK can make it even better, and prove that home is more than just a place.

Merry Christmas @bonheur-cafe! I hope you enjoy my take on your prompts. I apologize for not reaching out during the challenge to ask for more info. Time got away from me a bit this year. This is honestly the first thing I've written in six months. Much like Carlos, I'm a bit more aware of grief this year after losing someone this summer.

I tried to do a mix of two of the prompts from @tarlos-santa: Scenario 1: Carlos and TK are traveling for the holidays; Carlos' disdain for travel because he gets homesick comes to light. Scenario 2: A warm, comforting meal eaten on a miserably cold day. Some cuddling is also in order. Special thanks to @lire-casander and @marjansmarwani for putting up with me writing for the first time in months and helping, as always.

He sat on the couch looking through his laptop. Clicking through tabs left and right. He had to make things perfect this year. He had to. He just wanted to find the perfect Christmas getaway. They needed it. Now more than ever.  Neither of them would say it had been the best year, even with one of the best days of their life happening with the wedding. But, the rest of it… They had great hopes for it when it started. After all, they were still riding the high of a new engagement. Excited and ready to take on all that would come. Sure, they’d had rough years. Between shootings, dunks under ice, losing the firehouse…they didn’t think things could get much worse.  Even after everything with Gwyn.   But, they were wrong. They couldn’t have predicted what they faced over the past year. They didn’t expect kidnappings (again…) or Owen to deal with the FBI (maybe that should have been more obvious…) or to lose Gabriel (that one seemed to sting the most…). His eyes left his laptop and stared across the room at the bookcase. The picture from the rehearsal dinner sat proudly in the middle, for everyone to see. For them to remember the last night they had with the man. It had been perfect. He smiled sadly to himself and sighed once more. He tapped out a nervous rhythm on his keyboard and gazed back down at the tabs in front of him. Vacation spots stared back at him. Everything from resorts boasting great Christmas vibes in various states to beach houses that would offer some privacy to ski lodges that would offer a snowy holiday.  Continued on AO3

[dadbodbobby]

Merry Christmas Patricia!!

@sarcastic-soulmate

[tarlos-spain]

Well here it is, my Tarlos Secret Santa. My gift is for @noxsoulmate, hope you like it let me know what do you think. Thank you very much to my betas, as always, @lire-casander and @morganaspendragonss for the tips, the changes and correcting my English.

Title: Something more that this fear

Summary: Officer Carlos Reyes loves to go to this specific coffee shop - which has absolutely nothing to do with the cute barista, nope, nothing at all, of course not! If only he could find a way to not be awkward around TK...

He hadn't thought that Christmas Eve would bring such a chance - in the form of TK's shop getting robbed and Carlos happening to be on scene.

Warnings: It's Christmas, so it's quite fluff but it has a little angst and a few drops of hurt TK, nothing really serious happens to our boy.

"One black choca mocha with two shots of sugar and not too hot so you can drink it."

Carlos looked up and met the green eyes and perfect smile of his favorite barista. Like every day he read his label, "TK," two letters that made him smile, no matter how bad a day he'd had.

"How did you know what I wanted? I haven't placed my order with you yet."

"You ask for the same thing every day." TK's smile widened and made him look at the part of the glass where the customer's name was to be written. "I remembered your name."

He had written "Carlos" and added a smiley face to it. Not that he knew he was having a bad day.

"Thank you, just know that you made my day. I needed it."

TK glanced at the bar; there was no one waiting, so he could take five minutes to listen to him. "Has something happened, a complicated case first thing in the morning?"

"No, all quiet, too quiet. But someone has to work on Christmas Eve and apparently I'm the only one available with no kids, no wife...well, no husband, and I've been tapped in."

"Oh, no. Are you working tonight? I'm so sorry about that. Well, you can come over and pay me a visit, it's my turn to hold down the fort too. Because, apparently, I don't even have a boyfriend who's going to miss me tonight. As you see. Who's going to come over on Christmas Eve for coffee?"

Carlos wasn't sure if TK had heard him say that he didn't have a husband, which would imply that he was interested in men, but he didn't miss hearing him tell TK that he didn't have a boyfriend.

He felt really stupid for thinking that someone as good looking as TK could be attracted to him. He was in another league, he knew that for sure, but that didn't make him feel any less nervous when he’d walked in every morning for the past five months, every time he saw him talking to customers, always smiling, always attentive and always able to remember everything his regulars wanted.

That made him a regular customer and he knew that TK was easily fond of those people who came to the coffee shop every day.

"Reyes, we have to go."

Mitchell's voice from the doorway of the shop broke the moment, though anyone watching the scene from outside would have seen that Carlos had fallen silent, self-absorbed, staring at TK, as the barista looked back at him, waiting for him to say something.

Carlos took his leave and his cheeks flushed as he realized he had been standing there for more than a minute, just looking at him.

"If you have any time to spare tonight, you know where I'll be."

Mitchell was waiting for him with his arms folded leaning against the car.

[alicetallula]

Secret Santa 2021 - The Cults Server - For Hal - Part III - 23.12.2021

I had the pleasure of participating in the Secret Santa of the Cults Server this year again !

For @phroggysace

It was such a blast to draw for such a sweet person !

<Previous Post / Next Post >

Secret Santa 2021 - Buddie - Snuggle - For Hal - 23.12.2021

Done using ink pens, watercolors, acrylic paint pens, colored pencils, gel pens, metallic ink pens and metallic markers

AO3 post / DeviantArt post / Instagram post / Pillowfort post / Twitter post

(reblogs are unavailable until I scan and edit the drawing and put it through Nightshade)

[metallica-jk]

Time to talk ab Games Untold!!!

OMG IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS BOOK BC OF NASH AND LIBBY AHHHHHH

i kinda wanted to talk ab the objects on the cover

Im guessing that all the roses kinda mean love or smth idk someone search it up bc im not bothered.

the sword is probably Gray

Ive also realised that theres Calla Lillies on the cover of the book...Lyra???

Theres a compass which i think might b Hannah or Toby bc obviously Toby travelled undercover if yk what i mean

theres the coin that i think is from prague?? like czech republic kinda money lmao

thats to represent that night in prague thing

THE COWBOY BOOT AND THE RING ARE OBVIOUSLY AB NASH AND LIBBYYYYYYY

There r also pearls but idk what that might b...

Now ab the story things that will b in the book

That night in Prague is ab Jameson and Avery and how Jameson got the riddle thing ab Alice (i think)

The same Backwards as Forward is defo ab Hannah and Toby. Maybe ab how they met? or how they fell in love?

Five times Xander tackled someone (and one time he didnt) - i think thats kinda self explanatory.

The cowboy and the Goth NASH AND LIBBY AHHHHH

One Hawthorne night Might b the 911 message that Gray missed or idk

What happens in the treehouse could be the extra chapter where nash has to eat his hat or whatever and they play truth or dare

S3cr3t S@nt@ is secret santa...probably like a crazy ahh Hawthorne version lmao

and finally, Pain at the right gun - Lyra?

[tailoredshirt]

FIC: Now, and in the hour of our death (911 Lone Star)

—

Carlos couldn’t see TK, but he could hear him gasping for air. Trudie was looking down at him with genuine anguish on her face.

“I really wish you hadn’t done that,” she told him.

—

(How 4x04 could have gone if TK had gotten suspicious of Trudie and sweet-talked himself into the house, namely everyone getting head injuries from common household items.)

For @whenshereads for the 2023 Tarlos Secret Santa exchange. Thank you to @tarlos-santa and @whenshereads for your incredible patience with me.

AO3 link / PG-13 / 3k

[lyrakanefanatic]

OKAY SO I JUST WANTED TO LOOK AT THESE NOVELLAS AND SEE WHICH CHARACTERS THEYRE FOR

- “the night in prague” is obviously jameson and avery

- “The same backward as forward” is toby and hannah

- “The cowboy and the goth” is nash and Libby

- “five times xander tackled somebody” is probably max and Xander since it’s a book about the hawthorne brothers’ love stories

- “one hawthorne night” is probably just the 4 hawthorne brothers bonding (and maybe they talk about their love lives just like how they did for graysons 911 in tbh 🤭🤭)

- “what happens in the treehouse” is also probably the 4 hawthorne brothers, maybe even from when they were kids

- “secret Santa” might actually be all of them (maybe even lyra and the other contestants, who knows 🤷‍♀️) playing secret santa

- “pain at the right gun” I actually don’t know what this might be. im thinking it might be a lyra and grayson novella but idrk 🤷‍♀️

BUT ANYWAY IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS BOOK TO COME OUT BECAUSE IVE ALWAYS WANTED A NOVELLAISH BOOK ABOUT THE HAWTHORNE BROTHERS’ LOVE STORIES 💗💗💗

[rmd-writes]

✨ Fic Writing Review 2023 ✨

Thanks for the tags @hippolotamus @jesuisici33

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

Words and Fics

Words published to ao3: 160,298 (includes one collab)

Fandoms: three - Red, White & Royal Blue, 911 Lone Star, Schitt's Creek

Most recent drop (excluding drabbles): get fucked (or die trying) (RWRB | E | 7.5k)

Longest fic: (Un)professional Services (911 LS | E | 63k) a collab with @welcometololaland

Top Fics by Kudos

I'm only counting those fics published this year because the explosion of the RWRB fandom means that a number of my older fics have eclipsed everything I've ever written 😅

Are You Screwing With Me? (RWRB | E | 6.5k)

the key that unlocked me (RWRB | E | 3.8k)

get fucked (or die trying) (RWRB | E | 7.5k)

A Helping Hand (911 LS | E | 6.7k)

(Un)professional Services (911 LS | E | 63k)

My fandom fic events in 2023

Not as many as I would have liked! A lack of time, a nasty case of writer's block and just life things meant that I had to drop claims for some SC fic fests which made me sad.

I did write some smutsgiving drabbles here, here and here, and will be posting a firstprince fic as part of a secret santa fic exchange I do with some friends before Christmas.

Oh! I wrote some drabbles for prompts from @thebrownstone this year too.

Upcoming Projects for 2024

Another collab or two with my beloved @welcometololaland, and otherwise, the same wips that have been on my list for a very long time eg more Tarlos gym au, firstprince lawyer au part 3, tarlos model au, tarlos spy au, firstprince meet cute feat. cute dogs, the firstprince tattoo shop, long lost childhood friends to lovers reunion fic that I have wanted to write for over a year now and more.

How many of those will get written? Other than the collab Lola and I currently have on the go, I really don't know but hopefully many!

Tagging to share their own fic writing reviews: @welcometololaland @three-drink-amy @strandnreyes @reyesstrand @lilythesilly @rosedavid @kiwiana-writes @indestructibleheart @lemonlyman-dotcom @carlos-in-glasses @goodways @freneticfloetry @orchidscript @sherryvalli @clottedcreamfudge @everwitch-magiks @indomitable-love @tintagel-or-cockleshells @cha-melodius @inexplicablymine and an open tag for anyone else who wants to play!

[xcyphoz0a]

Catharsis

Gender neutral reader, hurt-comfort TW/CW: family issues/emotional trauma Character(s): Nilou Word count: 911 Proofread: n/a | (n) the purging or release of emotional tensions, especially through kinds of art or music | A/N: hello @originalgenshinscenarios, i’m your new secret santa >:) this is for the @2023gisecretsanta !

Rushing and rapid confusion and hurt was pretty common for you.

Especially at the crack of night, when the stars would shine and the sky would turn into beautiful hues of purple, indigo and pink.

Perhaps it was due to how you felt as if you didn’t belong in your own house– your family.

Pulling yourself together in your little bed, watching as the stars contrasted your own feelings.

You felt bitter–for what good reason did the archons have for you to be in such misery while the stars in the night sky seemed to shine brighter at your own pain?

Tossing and turning around, you eventually sit up on your bed, stretching over the frame, putting your shoes on as you quietly leave your home.

Not as if they’d notice anyway, you think, taking a breath of the crisp night air of Sumeru.

You wander around the streets of the city, watching as some of the shops start to close, owners walking outside, seldom greeting you as you sit on the bench.

The last of the shops seems to close, as you stand up, taking in the silence of the usual booming city at day.

You don’t think you’d honestly find someone outside on the streets except for the few rare night owls, though you’re in a slight pleasant surprise as you find one of your closest friends taking small steps on the stone tiled streets.

“Nilou?” You really couldn’t help but call out, the striking bright red hair of hers swaying lightly in the night breeze.

The girl– Nilou, turns around as she faces you, soft aqua eyes widening faintly, watching you take hasty steps towards her.

“What are you doing here in the night? It isn’t safe…” She speaks, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

You chuckle, shaking her worry off as you reply.

“Nothing, really– just wanted to take a break from home, you know?”

Nilou tilts her head a little, smiling back in turn.

“How was your day?” You question, walking around the city as you wait for Nilou’s response.

“Really good actually! A lot of people came to the show today, and I was really happy– I still am… my parents also came to watch…”

You smile at her response, finding the way how the atmosphere around her brightened up as she was talking.

Though you couldn’t help but feel some sort of envy creeping up from deep inside of your mind, wishing that your own family would also support– at least remember you– for what you did around the city.

You were also one of the performers alongside Nilou, though your parents would always shun you for turning your back on knowledge and the Akademiya, despite what happened after some… interesting events.

What you didn’t know was how the tear unknowingly fell from your (e/c) eyes, rolling down from the line of your eye to the end of your chin.

“...(Y/n)? Are you alright?”

The soft and concerned voice of Nilou’s reaches your ears as you jerk your head, rubbing the stray tear from your face.

“Yeah, I’m alright…” Your voice is unnatrually shaky, the burning, painful feeling in your throat tempting to spill out in tears and agony.

“...I… I’m alright.” Contrast to your words, as soon as you finished talking, the tears had started, continuous and painful as you stood in the middle of the street.

Nilou stands next to you as she pats your back, not knowing what to do. She disliked her inability to help you, helplessly watching you choke out years and years of pain and turmoil through tears. Surprised too– because you were always so lively… happy and energetic. Hiccups strained to prevent someone waking up was heard as your breaths started to become uneven.

Thoughts rushed in your mind, taunting you as you felt yourself reliving every bit of painful memory that you felt in your home.

Soft gestures wiping your tears away grounds you back to reality as you blink, watching concerned aqua-blue eyes in front of you.

“Sorry, Nilou, I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s alright… people need to have times to let out their pain, right?”

You nod, finding back the pace of your breathing slowly as the redhead holds your hand as she rubs the top of yours gingerly.

“You want to…uh… dance the pain away?” Nilou’s voice is unsure, anticipating some sort of negating response from your form, though in contrary, you smile as you nod, leading the both of you towards the Grand Bazaar.

Despite the lack of music, the slow yet rhythmic movements between the two of you seemed to sync, small taps and clicks of shoes on the wooden stage providing enough beats for you and Nilou to dance.

It was comforting, finding your peace in the movements of each step, the hold you had on the aqua eyed girl and back, you thought this was the moment you could finally break free of the doubts and confusion you held, wishing this moment would last forever.

You let out a contented chuckle, your eyes closing in happiness as Nilou watches you in slight surprise, finding herself letting out her own too, the bazaar filling with laughs and giggles from the two of you.

The dance ends, two of you holding each other close.

Perhaps, the mutual feeling had been shared, as you whisper.

“I love you.” Nuzzling your face into her neck as Nilou also whispers,

“I love you too”

[morganaspendragonss]

a worry that i can't place

happy holidays vera (@lutavero)!!! here is your secret santa gift, i hope you like it! i chose to focus on the superhero and fluff with established relationship prompts. sending you so much love and all the best for now and the new year! 💚💚💚

also please send me your ao3 if you have one i forgot to ask sorryyyyy

ao3 | 1.4k | au based in canon, canon-typical injury, remember that time buck got struck by lightning in 911?

title from ease my mind by ben platt

“TK! TK! Firefighter Strand, do you copy?”

“I haven’t got a pulse!”

“Do better!”

*

Carlos had grown used, over the years, to the bruises and scratches that appeared on TK’s skin every now and then. He was used to the blowing in and out, the late nights and early mornings, the unpredictability of their lives. It was all part and parcel of being married to an international superhero.

Or, officially, ex-international superhero. As far as everyone else was concerned, The Flash had gone offline years ago and conspiracy theories were left swirling in his wake; some claimed he’d died, others that he was in witness protection, others still that he was being hunted and so had to keep a low profile. 

Carlos knew the truth: that TK had been suffering in New York under the constant pressure of being the city’s salvation. There’s a longer story there, too, one that he’s not quite managed to draw out in its entirety, but he’s aware of the heartbreaking gist.

(“My dad found me,” TK told him one night, about a year into their relationship. “Drink and drugs don’t touch me anymore, they haven’t since… Anyway, they didn’t work so I went looking for trouble.

“I found it.”)

He can read well enough between the lines of nuclear breakup and everything’s just grey to figure out what TK meant.

But, TK had confessed, as much as he had wanted to get away from the spotlight, he was never going to be able to give it up entirely. He still had to do something with this power he’d been given.

So Carlos knows a second truth: that The Flash isn’t really gone. 

He worries, of course he does. It’s impossible not to when your boyfriend-fiancé-husband is off doing god-knows-what – and that’s only when he’s at work. But Carlos grows used to it, stops freaking out at the minor injuries TK sometimes sustains and starts being ready with whatever TK might need, even if it is just a warm bed to climb into and a husband to hold.

But there’s something – it got lost between Iris and the wedding and his father and work and and and, but Carlos remembers – that keeps bothering him, that’s made his fear increase of late. 

He’s anxious enough anyway, given what TK’s been through just at work, but…

“Babe?” 

TK rouses from his position on his lap, blinking sleepily up at Carlos. He’d got off shift a couple of hours prior and they’d not long had dinner; TK tends to go out like a light pretty quickly after being fed. Carlos feels bad for disturbing him now, but he has to know.

“What did you mean, three comas?”

TK’s brow scrunches up adorably in confusion. “Huh?”

“When Iris was here,” he clarifies. “You said you’d been in three comas, but only two since you came to Austin. I know about those two, but you’ve never told me about the third. Or…first, I guess.”

“Oh.” TK pats at Carlos’s arm to be let up, and once he’s sitting, he throws Carlos a wry grin. “I thought I’d gotten away with that one. Nice recall, Detective.”

“Still not a detective,” Carlos corrects mildly, but – not the point. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, TK. I guess… I worry about you when you’re out there. On the job you have people to back you up and you still got hurt enough to end up in a coma. Twice. You don’t have that the other times. I just want to know that you’re safe.”

TK smiles and leans in to kiss his cheeks. “You’re sweet,” he says. “And you already know I save the most dangerous stuff for work. But if you’re asking if the first coma was anything to do with The Flash…” He trails off and waits. Carlos nods, biting his lip. “Then yes.”

A trembling sigh leaves Carlos, but he doesn’t have time to ask further before TK speaks again.

“And no.”

Carlos sends TK a look his husband smiles, though it’s not quite as bright as usual. There’s something sad in it, something that speaks to a thousand memories, and he turns his gaze to his hand. Carlos follows it, and has to swallow a surprised sound when he spots a thin line of electricity crackle between TK’s fingers. 

He knows exactly how TK carries that electricity with him everyday, felt it the first time they’d touched in the honky tonk. He thought he’d been imagining it at the time, but… Well.

“Do you remember when I told you who I am?”

Carlos nods. “Sure.”

(Just a couple months into their relationship, it was one of their worst fights to date. It almost broke them; probably would have if TK hadn’t shown up on his doorstep hours later, vibrating with nerves until he seemed blurred around the edges – which, Carlos realised later, he was.

TK sat him down, remaining standing himself, and told him this: that, fresh out of rehab, he’d been struck by lightning; that it had given him superhuman powers; that he was the fastest man alive, the man the whole world knew as The Flash.

That his ex-boyfriend had never known the truth, that it had been one of the reasons they fell apart so spectacularly, that he didn’t want the same thing to happen to them but he would understand – really, he would – if Carlos wanted to walk away.

Staying had been one of the easiest decisions Carlos had ever made, second only to being with TK in the first place.)

“I didn’t… I’ve never told you how I became…this. I didn’t mean to hide it from you – honestly, I don’t remember most of it – but I guess I just thought it didn’t really matter. It happened and I just have to live with it.”

TK looks at him and Carlos nods encouragingly.

“Okay then.”

*

TK had never seen a storm like it. Some billionaire’s science experiment had gone wrong and now the city was having to clean up their mess on top of all the usual calls, and apparently their mess included torrential weather.

So now TK was climbing up the ladder of the truck to an apartment on the eleventh floor where an electrical surge had electrocuted one of the inhabitants. TK loved his job, but at the moment he would rather be anywhere else than out in the freezing cold. It didn’t help that his immune system was still shot and probably would be for the foreseeable.

He reached the top of the ladder and lifted his gloved hand to wipe rainwater out of his eye, useless though the action was. The sky continued thundering above him, lightning flashing every now and then, and the very air felt charged. TK went to grab his radio, managed to press the button and opened his mouth, then–

Nothing.

*

“It wasn’t a normal bolt of lightning,” TK continues. “If it had been, none of this would have happened. I was in cardiac arrest for a long time, then I fell into a coma for eight months. My heart stopped multiple times, I was having seizures, there were…things going on inside me that the doctors couldn’t explain.

“I was a mystery to them. My dad told me after I woke up that one of them had wanted to do a scientific study on me; he shut that one down pretty quick. Nothing the doctors did worked and my parents were getting desperate. So when the guy who built that reactor showed up and told them he could save me, it was kind of a no brainer.

“I don’t know what they did to me, but I eventually woke up and I stayed at his lab for a while, long enough to recover and figure out how to use these powers. They tried to stop me from leaving but I couldn’t… I hated that place. After that…well, you pretty much know the rest.”

TK falls silent and Carlos doesn’t know what to say. The story hasn’t changed anything, has neither alleviated his fears nor worsened them, but at least he knows now, he supposes.

(at least he has one more thing to add to his nightmares)

He doesn’t say anything in the end. He simply draws TK closer, and swears to protect him as best he can.

[make-me-imagine]

12 Days of Christmas 2022 - Masterlist

Here are the links to everyting I posted for Christmas this year.

(Christmas Masterlist Post)

Key:

❄ Not Christmas At All (Just Winter/Vibes) 🎁 Christmas Mentioned/Vibes (But not part of the plot) 🌲 Kind of Christmas 🧑‍🎄 Christmas

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Day 1: 'Christmas Surprise'; Darry Curtis x Reader + The Boys & Reader; cute/fluff [🧑‍🎄]

Day 2: 'Stress Relief'; Leverage Crew + Eliot Spencer x Reader; fun/humor [❄] Bonus: Top Gun Christmas Scenario Game [🧑‍🎄]

Day 3: 'Mistletoe Distraction'; Lou Ransone x Reader; cute/fluff [❄🎁]

Day 4: 'Home For Christmas'; Joaquin Torres x Reader; mild angst/fluff [🧑‍🎄]

Day 5: 'Cozy Winter Evening'; Malcolm Bright x Reader; cute/fluff [🌲❄]

Day 6: 'First Christmas'; Jonas Quinn x Reader; cute/fluff [🧑‍🎄]

Day 7: 'White Christmas'; Christopher Pike x Reader; cute/domestic fluff [🌲❄] Bonus: 911 Christmas Scenario Game [🧑‍🎄]

Day 8: 'A Christmas Rose'; Cavill!Sherlock Holmes x Reader; cute/fluff [🌲] - Part Two Coming New Years Eve/Day

Day 9: 'Christmas Proposal'; Steve Rogers x Reader; romance [🌲]

Day 10: 'Secret Santa: Part One'; Top Gun; ? x Reader; fun/anticipation [🌲🎁]

Day 11: 'Secret Santa: Choose Your Own Character Ending' - Day One; Bobs Ending [🎁] Fanboy's Ending [🎁]

Day 12 (Christmas): 'Secret Santa: Choose Your Own Character Ending' - Day Two; Hangmans Ending [❄🎁] Roosters Ending [❄] Mavericks Ending [❄🎁]

[theoddcatlady]

Mr. Ferguson

I think the whole street breathed a sigh of relief when we saw the EMTs take a body bag out of the Ferguson house. I was only about ten or eleven at the time and it’s been a while so some details of my childhood are lost to time, but I can’t forget Mr. Ferguson.

There was never a Mrs. Ferguson in the picture, as far as I know. He lived in the house on the corner, the one with the bright yellow shutters and the gorgeous garden out back. The garden didn’t make up for the rotten old bastard he was. I wondered once if he was nicer when he was younger, when he didn’t have to walk with a cane and could actually get around without help, but my dad set me straight on that one. Mr. Ferguson had always been a terrible person and the neighbor from hell.

All day long, Mr. Ferguson would sit on his front porch in his rocking hair, grasping onto his black cane as he stared out on the street. If someone walking their dog even got close to his yard, he’d start spewing threats about what he’d do if the dog took a shit on his lawn. If a kid put even a toe on his property, he’d get up from that chair and start shouting more terrible things. I learned my first cuss words from Mr. Ferguson, he didn’t censor his language even among the smallest of ears. And he wasn’t all talk. One of my friend’s dogs wandered into the Ferguson yard, just sniffing around as beagles do, and Mr. Ferguson beat that dog bloody. The poor thing had anxiety for the rest of its life and if you so much as passed the Ferguson house with it the dog would lose its mind.

Other than him, our neighborhood was a friendly place. Summers were full of cook outs and pool parties, winters had Secret Santa gift exchanges and someone was always willing to help shovel out your driveway. You’d never be hard pressed to find a babysitter on short notice, odds are your friend had a teenage daughter willing to make a few bucks to make sure the kids were on bed in time.

But not Mr. Ferguson. People did try to bring him in on the fun sometimes. He’d scoff and tell them to leave him alone in no uncertain terms. Mom said he just wanted to be miserable. I didn’t understand how someone could want that and well, I still don’t.

One hot summer morning though, his caretaker came in to do a check and found him in his garden, dead as a door nail. Probably a stroke or a heart attack.

My mom made us go to the funeral. I don’t know why, she probably hated Mr. Ferguson the most and we were like one of five people that went. One of those people was the priest. At least it was short, the priest just said a few words about how we should treasure our lives and be good to others and then Mr. Ferguson was chucked into the ground.

That was that… or so I thought.

The accidents started happening just a week later.

I was at my friend Michael’s house, we were playing board games when we heard the crash. It was so loud it shook the house and Michael dropped his soda. Root beer spilled onto the carpet as we tried to figure out what that sound was for a second.

Then we heard his dad screaming bloody murder.

Forgetting completely about the spilled soda, we ran out to the garage where he’d been working on changing the oil in the car.

Michael’s dad was pinned by the car against the garage door, face white as a sheet as his head lolled to the side. I saw blood splattered against the off gray color of the metal and I puked while Michael ran inside to call 911.

It was luck that he survived. He never walked again and health issues plagued him for the rest of his life, but for a guy crushed by a car that’s probably best case scenario.

It was an accident, sure, but a weird one. The car just suddenly launched forward as Michael’s dad stood in front of it. But there was no one in the garage with him. So yeah. It was just an accident.

But accidents started happening more and more often.

The next one was at the final pool party of the season. We were all at the Benson house because they’d just gotten a brand new hot tub. There was probably like twelve kids running around, the sun was shining, the barbecue was sizzling. I had just gotten out of the pool to grab a lemonade and was chatting with Annie when I heard the pop.

Mrs. Benson and her friends had been relaxing in the hot tub, making jokes and laughing until the pop. Their bodies suddenly went rigid before they began rapidly jerking about and twitching. Mr. Benson shouted if she was all right and I heard this gurgled yell before Mrs. Benson went under.

The kids stampeded out of the pool and I smelled something burning before I realized that the hot tub was on fire.

Mrs. Benson and her sister ended up dying on the way to the hospital. The other woman ended up surviving but not without some serious electrical burns. Electrocution via hot tub. Just an accident. But there was one more accident we all missed until we returned to the pool to see a little body floating at the top. Three year old Maggie had fallen in during the chaos and drowned.

Mr. Benson moved away after that. Losing both his wife and youngest child in that house just killed something inside of him. But after he moved away, we all saw it happen.

His backyard became overgrown by plants. Not over a few weeks, like what happens when a house is uninhabited and there’s no one to mow the lawn. The very day after they’d left that house the backyard was now filled with dandelions, daffodils, lilies. and all sorts of flowers that shouldn’t naturally appear in the late summer.

It was like a garden.

Accidents happen, sure. But not like this. Not when a guy who’s been working home improvement his entire life ends up toppling from a ladder and breaking his spine. Not when a mom trips and falls face first into the open dishwasher and ends up getting impaled on a knife. Not when a toddler was left alone for just a few seconds and ends up nearly drowning in the bathtub.

Dogs ran into the road and ended up getting hit by cars. Kids fell from their bunk beds and cracked their heads like eggshells on their dressers. Teenagers got into fatal car wrecks. It was a mess.

Two other families ended up leaving our neighborhood and their yards had the same fate as the Benson’s- completely grown over. A morbid beauty.

Fall came and the yards grew brown but the gardens seemed to be even greener. The whispers started about a ghost. A ghost that was such a miserable old bastard in life and was now a nasty poltergeist in death.

Mr. Ferguson had never left our neighborhood.

It all came to a head when a tree was struck by lightning and a large tree limb crashed into our living room. I’d just tripped while picking up my things and suddenly the roof caved in above me. I was lucky I was on the ground. If I’d been standing, well, I’d probably not be telling you this story.

Two nights later my mom woke me up. She looked grim.

“Come on. We’re going to see Mr. Ferguson.”

When we walked out of the house, I saw everyone on our street was out. Everyone had this same grim look on their face. The deaths, the mutilation, it’d forever tarnished our street and we’d all had enough. We walked down the street, I saw several guys walk into Mr. Ferguson’s house with mallets and chainsaws, but we kept going with a few of the others. I saw that several of the adults were carrying shovels and containers of lighter fluid.

We walked into the graveyard and my mom led them right to Mr. Ferguson’s grave. She took a deep breath.

“… Start digging.”

It was the frantic endeavors of people who believed they were cursed. Dirt flew in the air and nearly pelted me in the head a few times. I hid behind my mom, who just stood there stone faced.

Even now the accidents weren’t over. A man tripped in the hole and his leg snapped like a twig. He wailed as he was dragged away by a few others before they got right back to digging. Someone else got smacked the face with a shovel and blood coursed down his face from his nose as he just kept on digging.

Finally the coffin was reached, the lid cracked open. Mr. Ferguson’s body laid inside. He didn’t even look dead, it was like he was just taking a nap.

Then they started pouring the lighter fluid in. It covered the corpse’s skin, his clothes. They probably added more than necessary. My mom struck the match and threw it in, shielding me from the sudden burst of flames.

I didn’t get to see the body, but I swore I heard that old man’s yelling as his body burned.

It was over after all that. The gardens were all dead by morning. The accidents stopped. And although we’d lost so many of our friends over the past year, we recovered. New neighbors moved in. We welcomed them into our fold. One or two asked about the property on the corner, the one that looked like a tornado hit it, and we’d just say it was vandals. They stopped asking. We never talked about what we did to Mr. Ferguson’s body. And soon we just stopped thinking about it.

I grew up on that street. Even now I only live a few blocks away. And for so long I wondered why our family was practically the only one untouched by the tragedy. We never got hurt, even when the tree branch came crashing into our living room.

I think I found out the answer. See, my mom passed away a few months ago from breast cancer and I’ve been going through her things. She’s always been such a good, kind woman and it was great seeing pictures of her helping plant the garden behind the church and teaching at the local school.

But in the bottom of the box, hidden under dozens of other albums, was a picture from when she married my dad. Unlike the family picture with the groom, all it was was my mom and an older man. I didn’t recognize him until I flipped the picture over.

On the back was written ‘Pauline Walters (P. Ferguson) and The Father of the Bride.’

[gayhoediaz]

fic writing review 2023

tagged by @rainbow-nerdss (and i have a vague memory of someone else tagging me a few days ago but i can’t find it, i’m sorry!) ✨

words posted to ao3:

294,398

works posted to ao3:

26

fandoms posted for:

buck/eddie [9-1-1]

nacho/lalo [better call saul]

longest fic:

eat, praise, love

shortest fic:

my atlantis, we fall

top 5 by kudos

still

of bakesales and overdue realizations

ours to keep

the dark, the light, and the infinite between

hush of night

events participated in:

kinktober

lachoweek2023

lacho secret santa

current works in progress:

two!

goals for 2024:

complete my two current wips

write at least one madney fic

i loved how still felt like an episode of 911, i’d love to write more fics like that

not sure who’s done this already, but no pressure tags! @messyhairdiaz @homerforsure @henswilsons @sibylsleaves @rewritetheending @chimneybuckley-han

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

Elon Musk, the new owner of Twitter, tweeted out an unfounded conspiracy theory Sunday morning about the attack on the husband of House Speaker Nancy Pelosi from a website that has a history of publishing false information.

Musk responded to former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton when she tweeted out an L.A. Times story about how the suspect in the attack on Paul Pelosi, David DePape, spread far-right conspiracy theories.

"There is a tiny possibility there might be more to this story than meets the eye," Musk wrote to Clinton, linking to a story published on a right-wing website called the Santa Monica Observer that questioned the circumstances of the attack on Pelosi, according to an archived version of the story. (The website was no longer accessible late Sunday morning.)

As of late Sunday morning, Musk's tweet had more than 24,000 retweets and more than 86,000 likes, and was quickly gaining more traction.

The fact-checking website Media Bias/Fact Check rates the Santa Monica Observer as a "questionable source" based on "the routine publication of false and misleading information and the use of poor sources."

Media Bias/Fact Check said the website's article on the Pelosi attack "appears to be fake and defamatory."

Musk did not immediately respond to a request for comment from NBC News.

The Santa Monica Observer has also published other fake stories that falsely reported that former Secretary Clinton died in the September 11, 2001 attacks and had been using a body double since then, and that Ye, the rapper formerly known as Kanye West, was appointed to a non-existent position in the Department of the Interior under former President Donald Trump.

The publisher of the website, David Ganezer, unsuccessfully ran for Santa Monica City Council in 2010 and 1988, according to the Santa Monica Daily Press. He is currently a registered Republican, voting records show.

Musk's tweet comes just days after his $44 billion acquisition of Twitter was finalized. Musk has said he will loosen rules about what kind of speech is allowed on the platform. That vow has prompted concerns that the changes could drive users and advertisers from the site.

DePape attacked Pelosi, 82, with a hammer after breaking into their California home early Friday. The suspect was searching for the House Speaker, who was in Washington, D.C. at the time, two sources told NBC News.

Police arrived after Pelosi called 911 when the suspect wasn't looking.

Pelosi suffered a skull fracture and serious injuries to his right arm and hands, according to Drew Hammill, spokesman for Speaker Nancy Pelosi. He underwent successful surgery and is expected to make a full recovery, Hammill added Friday.

Police said DePape will be charged with attempted homicide, among other charges. Officials have said they are still working to determine a motive in the attack.