#Tinsel Town Talks

[esonetwork]

Christmas Movies | Tales From Hollywoodland

New Post has been published on https://esonetwork.com/christmas-movies-tales-from-hollywoodland/

Christmas Movies | Tales From Hollywoodland

Ho! Ho! Ho! Action!

This week, appropriately, Tales from Hollywoodland offers a fun overview of the best Christmas Movies of all time, and yes, we consider “Die Hard” a Christmas movie.  Here they are: from George Bailey and the iconic “It’s a Wonderful Life” family to the wild shenanigans of “Home Alone,” enjoy a fun time covering Yule Time cinema. 

We want to hear from you! Feedback is always welcome. Please write to us at  talesfromhollywoodland@gmail.com and why not subscribe and rate the show on Apple Podcast, Spotify, iHeartRadio, PlayerFM, Pandora, Amazon Music, Audible, and wherever fine podcasts are found. 

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#ChristmasMovies #HolidayFilmFavorites #XmasCinema #TalesFromHollywoodland #FestiveFilmDiscussion #ClassicChristmasMovies #HolidayCinematicJoy #XmasPodcast #TinselTownTalks #HollywoodChristmas #BestHolidayMovies #CinephileChristmas #PodcastHolidaySpecial #YuletideCinema #ChristmasScreenFavorites #HollywoodChristmasCheer #FilmBuffXmas #ChristmasPodcast #FestiveFilmChat #SeasonalMovieMagic

[thegreenleavesofspring]

I will support the SAG-AFTRA and WGA strikes once they promise to start producing content that's not morally bankrupt flaming hot garbage. In the meantime...

[californ1asnow]

Call Me Up Again - pt. 2 Mike Schmidt x Reader

Part two of All Too Well Angst!!! So much angst everyone I've decided to turn this into a miniseries, this post being the second part. I'll continue to link chapters as I post them This is also being updated on ao3 (cough cough) No warnings this time 1.9k words

Snowflakes fall silently, coating everything around them in a white dust. The wind blows with a crisp chill, nipping at all the rose-pink noses. It sends shivers down the backs of those who dare be out in this weather. The pumpkins and fake graveyard decor that had once littered every home’s front yard has long since been swapped for tinsel garlands and pine wreaths. 

The Schmidt residence beams with colored string lights and holiday music. A tall, sturdy evergreen sits patiently by the window. Its branches are decorated with years worth of homemade ornaments, ranging in all size and age from both Mike and Abby. The red skirt beneath it falls relatively empty of presents, only donning the few small ones Mike could afford to buy this year. They’re wrapped pathetically in an old birthday paper, the only wrapping Mike could find to reuse. 

Usually, the tree is so full that he’s had to store things in his closet, but that was when you were still a part of their Christmas. Stockings hung happily above the fireplace and a love so innocent it wraps the house in a warm glow. However, it’s void of that feeling now, instead Mike is left to pick up the pieces that you once fit together. Abby doesn’t understand why you don’t come over anymore, or why Mike has been so quiet lately. All she knows is that something went wrong, and now everyone is upset. She’s stopped bringing up your name in conversation when talking to Mike, because it always ends with him withdrawn and retreating to the solidarity of his room. 

That didn’t stop her from drawing you, though. Sometimes she’d sit at her desk, tears collecting in the well of her eyes, and doodle old memories of the three of you. She remembers them being happy, but by the time the crayons were set aside and the picture was finished, it was a glum mess of dark blues and frowning faces. 

After a drawing is finished she’d slip past Mike’s room, quietly tiptoeing out the front door, and make a break for the house across the street. Your house. She’d work fast, her feet carrying her quickly to and fro. It was unclear from her perspective whether you paid attention to what she’d give you, but by the time she slipped a new piece of paper underneath your door, the old one she had gifted you was gone. 

Mike was unaware of it all. 

He had found a new job in town where he could bury all his thoughts. It was working construction for a local contractor, a job that certainly wasn’t ideal but it paid better than what he’d been used to. Unfortunately, it required longer hours and ate up all his free time, meaning Abby needed a new babysitter. A job that was once happily filled by your company, now replaced with an afterschool program suggested to him from a flyer he found at work. He hated the thought of her sitting in essentially another classroom, surrounded by strangers and snotty kids, but it was his only option left. 

With a third of his paycheck dedicated to it, Abby now spends her weekdays at the nearby YMCA. 

The first time he told her about the new program didn’t go over very well. He remembers it clearly.  

“Abby please,” his irritated voice interrupts her incessant protesting, “listen, it’s the only place that can watch you.” 

“No it’s not!” She yelled at him, her finger pointing to your house across the street, “I want her back!”  

A pang of guilt struck his chest at her words. The lack of your presence has clearly been taking a toll on the both of them, but it’s the first time Abby’s ever been so vocal about it. He crossed his arms with a sigh, watching his little sister stare up at him with solemn eyes. Her lip quivering ever so slightly, evident that she’s holding back tears. 

He crouches down to her level, just like he had done to you so many nights ago, “I’m sorry,” he pleaded with her, “but she’s not coming back right now.” 

Her head shook with disbelief, stubbornly stuck in her spot, “Then make her come back.” 

–

You’re not sure when the Mike shaped hole in your heart stopped aching, but it’s significantly less sore compared to a fresh wound. That’s not to say the constant reminder of him and Abby living across the street from you doesn’t sting. It’s hard enough to ignore all his calls, but trying to get to your car while avoiding his gaze is even worse. Eventually, he gave up on contacting you by the third month of radio silence. It hurt both of you, but you knew deep down neither of you could continue functioning like how you were. 

The back and forth pull of his affection took too big of a toll on your mental well being. You can remember every moment down to the exact detail of how much you craved for him to just do something, anything. 

All those times you held him in your soft embrace whispering sweet nothings in his ear, reassuring him everything will be okay, just for him to turn around the next day and never bring it up again. Or when you’d run your warm fingers through his hair to calm him down after a panic attack, and he’d let his head rest in your lap. Words of affection dripping off his lips like a rich honey, warming you up from the inside out. Then he’d disappear for a while, claiming he needed some space to figure stuff out, all the while you’d beg and plead for him to tell you what’s on his mind, only for him to give you nothing back.You stood by him regardless though, keeping a silent promise that you’d always be there for him when he needed it, a love that was never reciprocated back. 

A long sigh escapes from you, eying the new delivery that just appeared by your door. You shuffle towards it weakly, unsure if you really wanted to torture yourself by looking at it. It’s one of those things that curiosity will drive you to do, unable to ignore it like a pedestrian passing by a car crash. The paper crinkles under your touch, unfolding it reveals the familiar childlike style of Abby’s drawings. A man drawn in green crayon frowns up at you, holding hands with an equally sad looking child. Your gaze drifts over to the other side of the paper, highlighting a person relatively similar to you standing alone with their arms crossed, angry. Your heart hurts at the sight of it, knowing that Abby is implying that you’re angry at the two of them. You shake your head quickly, trying to evade any tears that threaten to spill. It’s not fair for Abby to be caught in the middle of whatever is going on between you and Mike, and you realize that. 

The sound of your phone ringing breaks your train of thought, and when you check the caller ID your breath hitches. Standing in the middle of your living room frozen with indecisiveness, you stare at the screen while chewing on the bottom of your lip. Without thinking, you accept the call.

“Hello?” 

There’s a sound on the other end of the line, somewhere in between a choke and a gasp, and then your name is mumbled out in disbelief. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually pick up…” Mike’s voice is still a little startled, mimicking the internal panic in your chest. 

You suck in a deep, steady breath before answering, “Yeah, I didn’t think so either.” There’s a slight pause from both of you, unsure how to continue the conversation. It’s felt like years since you last heard his voice. 

“Are you…doing okay?” 

“...Yeah.” Your answer is unconvincing, but Mike doesn’t have any ground to be able to question it. So it’s left like that, timidly dangling in the air between you both. 

You hear shuffling in the background, and a smaller voice asking a question before he dismisses it. Your heart lurches thinking about how Abby is there, trying to figure out who her older brother might be on the phone with. It almost makes your cool demeanor crack, urging you back into your savior complex. 

“Uh, sorry about that,” your phone crackles back to life, “anyways, I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Oh okay.” 

“Can you,” he stops, leaving you on edge, “meet me somewhere?” 

The lack of response from you causes him to start rambling, going on about how it would be better to talk in person, and how it would be easier if you could see each other’s expressions. Soon afterwards, a string of apologies ensue, and you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. 

“Okay Mike. Promise me this will be worth it.”

“I promise.”

–

A young waitress stares nervously at your booth. Orders continually piling up, hungry customers giving her rude looks whenever she ignores their impatient huffs. It’s been a good thirty minutes since you first showed, and she’s checked up on you at least a handful of times by now. Mike had suggested this little diner down the street from your house, and you agreed to meet here. 

However, it seems like you’re the only one who showed up. 

Your back is pressed against the uncomfortable foam board of your seat, a leg bobbing rapidly out of habit. You pick at the pills on your sweatshirt sleeve, trying to avert your gaze from the sympathetic waitress. Prior to your predicament, she had asked if you were dining alone, and you told her no. However, It’s starting to look like you just might be. With anger bubbling inside of you, a voice in the back of your head is saying you should have seen this coming. It’s so typical of Mike to make promises that he’s unwilling to keep. 

The air smells like grease, mostly from the old fryers sitting in the back of the kitchen. Oil bubbling and brooding in their tanks, waiting for someone to drop a morsel of food so it could shrivel in the scalding lard. Stomach stirring with disgust, a wave of nausea washes over you. It’s unclear exactly what’s causing it, you’d like to give credit to the sleazy restaurant, but something deep down points to the lack of a certain person’s company. 

You keep your attention trained on the dwindling heat of your coffee. Both corners of your mouth scrunch downwards at the smooth ceramic now held in your cold hands. When did watching a cup of coffee become so interesting? 

“Would you like some more?” The sweet but timid waitress asks you, now back at her spot beside your table.  

A joyless smile flashes across your face, a futile attempt at masking your dejection. Pushing the cup forward, silently accepting a fresh refill from her kettle. 

“He’s not worth it.” She adds, tipping off your mug. Her eyes refuse to meet yours as she does so, and you are thankful for that fact. 

“No,” you respond back, “he never is, I guess.” Your voice is shaky, as are the hands that are folded in your lap. 

Mike is not worth the years of being hurt and pushed away. Not worth the tears that fall after coming home from a night spent at his house, inconsolably sobbing because you know no matter what you do it leads back to the same thing. To give up all your time, love, and patience just to receive nothing in exchange. 

It’s not worth the unrequited love. 

“Can I have the check please?” You ask quietly, still avoiding the gaze of the girl next you. 

Her head shakes with pity, fingers wrapping around the arm of the kettle, “it’s on the house.”

TAGLIST - @wriothesleysbimbo @psbc @victimsofadownn @that1lxnlybxch @callsignwidow

[murdrdocs]

thinking abt how adorable young dad!finnick would be with his little son on christmas

maybe him even building a lego set like in that one picture of sam clafflin if yk what im talking abt

this one trust i know

young dad!finnick absolutely adores christmas. as soon as december rolls around, he's coming into the house with a christmas tree strung up and in tow, a big grin on his face as he politely orders you to grab the christmas records and put music on. he decorates. heavily. and his son — your son — does it with him. little fists reinforced with bigger ones on either side hanging up tinsel and handmade ornaments and mistletoe beneath the door frames. and you bet that anytime you are coincidentally under it with either of them, finnick is enforcing the stereotypes and encouraging you to pucker up.

then christmas day comes around and he's never been happier.

he wants your son to believe in santa claus. it's something he needs to happen. solely so he can grab fresh milk from the town market and bake cookies with a recipe sent in the mail by peeta a month ago. your son helps, except he mostly begs to eat the dough and ends up with flour adorably dusting his cheeks and throughout his hair. finnick, slightly less adorably but only because it was of his own purposeful doing, ends up the same, flour scattered through the grown in beard along his jaw.

your son is eventually tucked in for the night, the clock rolls past midnight and into the early hours of the morning, and finnick is gently waking you. his voice is soft, but the excitement is still clear within his words.

"it's 4, baby. gonna go put the presents under the tree." there's a silent ask of if you'll be joining or not, and even though your dream was entering the comforting stages (the three of you on the beach like you usually are, but there's a prominent bump under your sweater this time), you roll out of bed and quietly make your way into the living room.

finnick meticulously arranges the gifts while you sit on the couch and make your way through the milk and cookies, which does nothing to help the sleep tugging at your mind. by the time finnick has decided on an arrangement that he's satisfied with, you've dozed off with half of a cookie in your hand. you awake once more to finnick, him taking the cookie out of your hand and taking a bite for himself, leaving the last quarter on the plate before he picks you up and carries you to bed.

and opening gifts is his absolute favorite part. there are the ones from the two of you, your neighbors in victors village, your families (an especially sweet knitted set from mags for your son, and a quilted blanket for you and finnick), and then comes the ones from santa. finnick sits and watches happily, sometimes even recording with the old camera the two of you have.

his happiness is infectious. you can't help but cuddle into his side, pressing your face to his bare chest as you slink your arm around his waist.

the love in your heart only multiplies when you see finnick and your son building the lego set from santa later in the afternoon, finnick looking extremely determined and your son replicating his fathers face to the best of his abilities.

[janesociety]

hi lovely<3 can you do a james potter x shy reader where r is meeting his family for the first time at christmas?? thank you so much:)

this christmas

james potter x shy!reader

type: fluff

word count: 1.9k

summary: james brings his anxious girlfriend home for the first time at christmas

warnings: anxiety, small panic attack

notes: thank you so much for this request! i had a lot of fun writing this <33

masterlist

𝜗𝜚

“You’ll be okay,” James said, squeezing your hand.

“Oh, they’ll love you, Y/N,” Sirius said, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. “I mean, they love me, so how could they not like you?”

“We really should’ve stopped him from drinking so many cups of coffee,” you whispered to James as Sirius ran ahead. James laughed.

“This is just how he gets every time he comes home,” James said, his breath fogging in front of him as he chuckled. “It’s just up here a little farther.” He pointed to a large brick house just up the road. It was beautiful, really. Big uniform windows with white shutters all had wreaths and green tinsel lining them. The wall lining the property was decorated with glowing Christmas lights strung across the entire perimeter. It looked like a house straight out of a muggle Christmas movie.

The three of you had stopped in town after arriving via train from Kings Cross. You hated traveling by floo powder and Sirius really wanted to ride on a muggle train, so James arranged for the three of you to take one up from London. While there, you made James go with you to find a present to thank his parents for letting you stay for the holiday. If it hadn’t been such a last minute decision, you would’ve gone to Hogsmeade, but now you were stuck with the set of candles you bought from a local shop.

“James,” you whispered as Sirius got to the gate in front of the house, swinging it open and rushing to the door. James recognized your tone and stopped walking. “I can’t.” Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you could barely think, only feeling the intense fear that only grew as you approached the gate.

He reached out and places his hands on your upper arms, rubbing up and down to create minimal heat in the fridge temperatures.

“Oh, darling,” he said, seeing the look of utter dread on your face. “It’s going to be alright, you're going to be alright.” Your breathing picked up and your hands holding the wrapped box began to shake. “Hey, hey, hey,” he said, reaching up to cup your face.

“Sirius! Come in, darling,” you heard the voice of a woman carry across the empty yard of the house and over the short wall you were in front of. You let out a choked sob as your fears intensified. James looked over to his mum who was standing in the door watching the two of you. He gave her a small nod and she understood, shutting the door.

“You talk the same,” you said, still shaking and breathing heavily, but laughing lightly. You were trying to find anything to distract yourself. “I guess that’s why you say ‘darling’ so much.” James chuckled, his gloved hands still on your face. Tears were forming in your eyes, but at least you were smiling.

“We can walk around more if you’d like?” James offered, tucking a free piece of hair behind your ear. “No rush.” You shook your head.

“Just need a minute.” You leaned into his touch, trying to focus your breathing back. James took deep breaths with you, his shoulders moving up and down dramatically as he did so.

“Tell me the schedule again?” you asked, closing your eyes.

“Tonight we’ll have dinner- I think I can smell it already- and then us and Sirius can do whatever we want,” James said, moving his hands down again to create friction on your arms. “Then tomorrow, Peter, Remus, Lily, and Marlene are coming over for Christmas Eve. We’ll go into town, have lunch, and then come back home for dinner with mum and dad again. And on Christmas, we’ll have breakfast and open presents, of course, and then the rest of the day we have to ourselves.” You smiled, eyes still closed but breathing now steady.

James pressed a kiss to your cheek and you grinned wider, opening your eyes to see his own boyish grin.

“We can take that walk still,” he offered, squeezing your shoulder.

“No,” you said, still a little shaky. “I’m ready.” He smiled, taking your hand again and rubbing small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

As soon as you got relatively close to the door, it swung open, Euphemia Potter standing in the doorway.

“Hello! Goodness, Jamie, your girlfriend is going to freeze!” she chittered off, wiping her hands on the apron she was wearing. “Y/N, dear, it’s lovely to meet you finally.” You smiled shyly, squeezing James’ hand harder as you began making your way up the front steps. Euphemia smiled brightly at you- her smile alone almost putting you at ease.

“It’s lovely to-“ You were cut off by a crash in the kitchen.

“Monty! What did I say about picking up the pans before they cool!” Euphemia shouted, turning and rushing back into the house. It was more of a scolding than a shout, like how a mother would instruct her child as opposed to a lovers quarrel.

James turned to you to gauge your reaction, but all you could do was laugh. You made your way inside, taking off your shoes and jacket. Stepping into the house warmed you up almost immediately to the point where your cheeks flushed from the sudden temperature change.

“We’re in here, darlings!” Euphemia yelled from further inside the house. You smiled cheekily at James, grabbing his hand as he led you to the kitchen.

Sirius was already there, sneaking food off what appeared to be a plate of decorated cookies. Euphemia was at the sink with an older man, Fleamont Potter, cleaning off a fresh burn on his hand.

“Ah, you must be Y/N!” Monty said, smiling widely at the girl. He had James’ smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you!” You squeezed James’ hand tightly before responding.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” you said quietly. You were still so nervous about saying the wrong thing.

“James just never seems to shut up about you!” Monty continued as his wife remained cleaning up his hand. “His letter go on and on-“

“Dad!” James cut him off, blushing a deep shade of scarlet. You couldn’t help but laugh, bringing a hand to cover your mouth. “Don’t laugh at me!” James said, laughing too as he poked your side. “It’s not my fault you’re so intoxicating I can’t help but think of you at all times.” You and Sirius both pretended to gag at the same time, causing James and his parents to laugh. You suddenly remember the colorfully wrap box in your hands.

“Oh, uhm, James and I- we picked you up a present in town,” you said, stumbling over your words. James grabbed your hand again, running his thumb over your knuckles. “As a thank you, for letting me stay.”

“Oh, how lovely, you’re welcome any time, sweetheart,” Euphemia said, finally dropping Monty’s hand. She came over to you and took the present out of your hands. “Monty, dear, would you put this under the tree?” Monty nodded, quickly rushing off.

“James, dearie, could you take the potatoes out of the oven,” Euphemia asked, going back to tending to the dinner she was preparing now that she was done with Monty’s burn. “Oh, Y/N, sit, darling, relax.”

You complied, finding a spot next to Sirius- who was still sneaking cookies- and watching as James began helping his mother cook.

“He is really crazy about you, y’know,” Sirius said, wiping frosting and crumbs off of his face. You stared at him, deadpan. He was messing with you, you assumed. “I’m serious!”

“No, I’m Sirius,” you mocked his usual line.

“Ha-ha,” he said, rolling his eyes. “But, like actually, when you started dating, he would not talk about anything else- ever! He was totally mad.” You blushed, squeezing your hands in your lap.

“Sirius, would you set the table for me, dear?” Euphemia asked, taking her final dish out of the oven.

“What happened to relaxing?” he groaned, dragging himself out of his seat nonetheless. Euphemia tutted.

“I told Y/N to relax,” she said, shaking her head amusedly. “You decided to relax and eat all the Christmas cookies I made for your friends tomorrow!”

“Oh, you love me, Ef,” Sirius said, beginning to pass out plates.

“Here, I’ll help,” you said, grabbing a handful of silverware.

“No, no, darling, sit down,” Euphemia insisted.

“Really, it’s fine,” you said, blushing.

“James, tell your girlfriend that she is our guest and we insist she not do any chores while she’s staying here,” she said, turning to her son. James started towards you, a big grin plastered on his face.

“No, James, it’s really-“ he cut you off with a small kiss, taking your moment of distraction to pry the forks you were holding out of your hand.

“You heard the woman,” he said, pushing on your shoulders and forcing you back into your seat. You bit your tongue to keep yourself from laughing as you glared up at James. “Aw, don’t give me that look,” he grumbled sarcastically, kissing your nose before returning to the kitchen with his mother.

The dinner was out soon enough, and you were sat next to James with Euphemia on your right at the head of the table, Monty across from you, and Sirius across from James. Conversation flowed comfortably, even if you only added in when James prompted you.

“So, Y/N, James tells me you’re a Ballycastle fan, aren’t ya?” Monty asked, looking up at you with a grin. You nodded, quickly trying to finish chewing your food. James squeezed your thigh under the table. “Bah, didn’t you think that last minute call the other night-“

“-was total bull!” you finished for him, the two of you laughing. James chuckled.

“No, no, you Bats fans are just sore losers,” James said, his smile matching his father’s.

“Says the Puddle Dud,” Sirius spoke up, causing the table to burst out laughing.

“Hey, how many European Cups have the Bats won again?” James feigned curiosity.

“Oh, okay, you want to bring up the Euro Cup then? When the Magpies have won just as many?” Sirius said. James’ hand was no longer on your leg and was now waving wildly in the air as his and Sirius’ debate became more heated.

“Alright, boys,” Euphemia said, immediately halting the argument.

“I just don’t know how you live with him, Ef,” Sirius said, exasperated. “I mean, he likes the most overrated team in the league!”

“You live with me too now, y’know,” James said, glaring at him. Sirius looked up with a stoic look on his face.

“Effy, Monty, I think it’s time we’ve had a real conversation about James moving out,” Sirius said, putting down his silverware.

“Enough,” Euphemia said, laughing at their antics. “You boys are too much.” Sirius and James ended their short scuffle with childish tongues stuck out at each other.

“James,” you said, putting a hand on his arm. He immediately stopped and turned to you.

“Sorry,” he said quickly.

“She’s got you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she now?” Euphemia said, smiling as she took a sip of her sparkling drink.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Sirius said, returning to his meal. “The boy is whipped.”

[pictureinme]

cheri cheri lady – kitten braden (1)

❧ you go to a peepshow. you meet kitten. your life is flipped upside down.

patricia 'kitten' braden x f!reader tags: voyeurism, oral sex, p in v, etc. (see ao3 for full list) parts: 1 (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)

You make your way into the part of town you swore you’d never step foot in: the red-light district. The only women around were streetwalking or advertising their clubs.

You were here to do neither of those things.

Being a closeted lesbian in London might seem like an easy job, that is, until that said lesbian gets horny. Who doesn’t? You considered paying for an hour or so, but you weren’t made of money. Plus, what if someone saw you? That’s why you were laying low in your unassuming trench coat and slacks.

If you walked quickly enough, no one would notice you aren’t a man looking to throw his money away to see some naked ladies.

Taking it slow, you decide to go to a peepshow. It’s easy, there isn’t any chance you’ll get into trouble.

In glimmering neon, you see the sign: Xanadu. You heard it was run by a union of sorts, and it was fully legal. No busts to get caught in.

Entering through the tinsel curtain, the smell of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume hung in the air. Exciting.

You walk quickly through the booths and their curtains, until you find one unoccupied. Shutting the curtains, you sit on the stool, wiping a trickle of sweat from your brow.

Fumbling through your coin purse, you put the allotted amount for twenty minutes into the slot.

The view quickly reveals itself: a lovely young blonde woman, dressed in a blue slip, was sitting on a flower adorned swing.

“Well, hello there.”

Her deep voice, coupled with her lusty blue eyes, had you stifle a choke, which was caught on the microphone.

She giggles, quite over the top.

“You’re an absolute beauty,” you manage to whisper, forgetting your preamble about how you’re a woman and if that would offend her in some way.

Her swinging stops, and a smirk finds its way onto her face, “Oh, a lady paying for a peepshow? How unusual.”

You scramble, “If that bothers you, I can leave, no problem. You can keep the money, of course and...”

Her finger comes to her plush lips in a shushing motion, “Don’t get all uppity, darling. In fact, I wish more ladies would come in. Make this a lot more fun, hm?

“I have to agree, Miss…?”

“Call me Kitten, love. May I know yours?”

Kitten’s tongue goes to lick her lips quickly, making your breath shudder.

“You can call me… (Y/N).”

‘Why did you give her your real name, you dunce?’ you think to yourself.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. What made you brave this side of London just to see little ol’ me?” One of her straps falls from her shoulder, you can’t help but stare.

You chuckle, blushing slightly at the compliment, “Can you blame a girl for being horny?”

“Not at all, dear (Y/N),” Kitten leans closer to the glass, “I must say, I like it when girls talk so crass.”

“Yeah? I like it when girls wear pretty blue slips… especially when they let them fall so low.”

Your confidence grows by the minute. You know she can’t see you, but she sure as hell acts like she can.

“My, you’re quite the dirty girl. What would you like to see, love?” She bites her thumb, letting her lips wrap around it.

“Anything. I’m honestly content just… talking with such a beautiful woman.”

Kitten smiles widely, “You’re such a flirt, dear. I’ll show you something nice…”

You watch as she moves her hands down to between her legs, still covered by the slip. With a gasp, you find yourself imitating her movements.

“You like that, Miss (Y/N)? Do you like seeing pretty girls doing dirty things?”

“Yes, Kitten, but I especially like it when you do it.”

Giggling, she starts to touch herself around her clothing, “I thought you might say that. I wish I could see you, I know you’re doing the same thing I am, hm?"

You nod, but realize she can’t see that, so you let out a noise of affirmation.

“Miss (Y/N), you were so brash before, what happened? Cat got your tongue, or was it a… kitten?”

“You’re driving me crazy, such a doll, you are.”

Her eyelids flutter closed, in seemingly faux ecstasy, “Your words make me the crazy one.”

Kitten’s slip falls from her chest, revealing her petite breasts. Eyes glued to her, your mouth falls open in a slight whimper.

“You know, all the men that come here think they’re rather disappointing, but you…”

She grins, and moves one hand to touch one of them. Still mimicking her, you whisper, “Kitten, you are something else.”

Just as you both start getting into the rhythm of it, a chime signals one minute till the end of your time. You have no more quarters.

“Oh, shame. I hope I see you around again soon, Miss (Y/N). You’ve certainly put me in a good mood,” Kittens seems genuinely saddened by this, but her peach pout is just too erotic for you to handle.

“I’ll definitely be back soon, Kitten. You’ve got me addicted.”

The view slides closed, and you’re left with both a soaked hand and underwear. Fuck.

[penny00dreadful]

The Parting Glass

Hey I've been through some shit the last few weeks so let's do Christmas the Irish way. By making it ✨miserable✨ and putting Eddie through situations. But with a hopeful ending.

Just as a note of warning, this fic contains death, funerals and Eddie working through his grief. It was originally devised as a part of this fun little challenge and then... welp, I used it to process. 😅

The prompts I got were: Eddie arrives to town recently single to inherit something, Steve lives in the town and is a famous musician (but not here). Eddie falls in love with the holidays, the town and some guy. I'll be honest these prompts got away from me so they're not followed exactly.

AO3

For my granddad.

It was nearly Christmas and Eddie was driving back to Hawkins for the second time in two weeks.

He was alone. 

Again. 

And for good this time.

The last time, when he had come back when Wayne was sick and not getting any better, he wasn’t supposed to be on his own.

In the days leading up to it, Jack had been in his ear the entire time.

“I’ll be there for you.”

“I won’t let you go through this alone.”

“You won’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I’ll support you the whole way.”

All over the phone. It couldn’t be helped. Eddie was a writer, he could work from literally anywhere. Or at least anywhere that had an internet connection. Even then, he might not need that. Just a post box. 

Jack was back home in their apartment that Eddie had bought them with his first big paycheck.

Eddie had called to tell him that Wayne had passed, numb and monotone and not really fully registering just what that meant. That he was gone. Like gone-gone. 

Forever.

He wasn’t just gonna… open his eyes again and start talking. He wasn’t gonna go back home, or sit in his armchair or shout at the tv or lie in his own bed one last time… And… What about his mugs? He… Wayne had so many mugs, what was gonna happen to them? He loved those mugs.

And Jack had said he’d be there. He’d promised.

And then he wasn’t.

Because something had come up at work or he thought he was coming down with something or he hadn’t got enough sleep the night before and didn’t feel safe making the drive and he felt really bad about it, just a steady stream of excuses but also- that was it.

I feel really bad about it. Full stop. No attempt to say, I’ll make it up to you. Or even just the bare minimum of I’ll try my best to be there no matter what.

And like a flash in the pan Eddie went from devastated to angry to just cold acceptance. 

“Fine.” He’d grit out over the phone, feeling simultaneously broken hearted and fucking indignant. Because, yes, it was a little selfish to feel like Jack should have thrown all that to the side to be here with him. But his fucking family had just died. He was allowed to be a little selfish.

Eddie needed him there.

Didn’t just want him there, he needed him there.

But instead he had to go through it all, alone.

He was on his own just before Christmas, trying to organise a funeral for the only family he had.

He didn’t have much time to think straight. He resolved to put it all out of his mind until this was all over because Wayne deserved his attention right now.

Eddie had expected it to be small and quiet if he was being honest with himself. Wayne had been a man who kept to himself and all he had was Eddie.

He was just thankful the local funeral home wasn’t completely decked out in tinsel and lights and trees. It was going to be hard enough as it was without a constant reminder of the time of year.

Quiet and subdued, with just a few stragglers, as depressing as that was. He could handle that right?

But then the people started turning up at the funeral home and they just didn’t stop. 

The entire trailer park came out to see him, even Mrs. Cartwright, who was stone deaf and half blind with a bad hip, shuffled into the room on the arm of another of the neighbours, a red headed young woman, to offer her condolences. Then there were Wayne’s coworkers from the plant, the farmers he’d talk to in the pub, his fantasy football league, childhood friends that he hadn’t spoken to in years but still wanted to pay their respects, teachers from the school, store workers, the nurses who looked after him. Eddie’s own friends, the Corroded Coffin boys, the Hellfire kids, Rick, even some of his most loyal customers from back in his dealing days. 

It kept going, just floods and floods of people young and old passing through the room to pay their respects, offer their condolences and shake Eddie’s hand.

He was completely overwhelmed. By the end of it, his hand was fucking sore, his throat was raw and if he lingered on the thought any longer, of how many people had shown up for his uncle, had loved him, he’d start crying all over again, even though he was pretty sure he’d run dry.

Jeff, Gareth and Grant hung around for hours after they’d been through the procession once, waiting for a moment to talk to him and ask if he wanted them to stay with him for the rest of the funeral and after. For as long as he was back in Hawkins.

It went unspoken that Eddie had been in that room alone and they were trying to save him from that, so he took them up on the offer. Stood with his oldest friends that he really should have spoken to more over the years while Wayne was lowered into the ground.

They took him out for a few drinks afterwards but Eddie didn’t have it in him to make it a whole night thing. He was exhausted, but he promised to stay in better contact. 

When it all was said and done, Eddie found it incredibly difficult to get into the car and drive back.

He didn’t want to leave Wayne here alone.

He didn’t want to be states away anymore.

He wanted to be home. In this shitty little small town that he had hated growing up in but was such an important part of his life, that was familiar and sedentary and fucking quaint and most importantly had a memory of Wayne in every single corner.

Jack would never go for it.

But now that Eddie was on his own, in the car, it gave him a lot of time to stew on just how long he’d been on his own already.

Eddie loved fast and Eddie loved hard. If someone gained his trust or his loyalty, he would do anything for them. It would be a very, very hard thing for someone to lose. But it also made him incredibly blind to their flaws.

This wasn’t the first time Jack had pulled out of something at the last second. And most of the time it was just because he didn’t want to do whatever it was, regardless of if he had made promises about it. 

And Eddie had let it go each and every time before because, well, it was fine. He got over it and it wasn’t that big of a deal.

But he had needed Jack there this time. And he’d done it all alone.

If the situations were reversed, Eddie would have crawled on his belly through broken fucking glass to be where Jack needed him and nothing less than an explicit “I don’t want you there” would have deterred him.

And when he got back to their apartment and Jack had turned to him with a sympathetic, “How was it?” Eddie fucking lost it.

He’d screamed so loud and with so much anger and devastation, the neighbours called the cops and again Eddie was on his own trying to explain what had happened while Jack just shuffled around in the background looking vaguely guilty and shell shocked, muttering “You never told me you wanted me there” when the cops finally left.

And Eddie was just fucking done. He was broken. It was finished. 

“I didn’t think I had to. My family died. And you had been telling me the entire time that you’d be there. You told me you’d be there for me. And then you just weren’t.”

So that was it. 

Eddie couldn’t stand to be in that city anymore. Anonymous and lonely and fucking claustrophobic. Couldn’t stand to be in the apartment with its white Christmas lights and expensive baubles and store bought charm without an inch of personality because it “looks prettier this way.”

The fucking cushions that couldn’t be used to prop up his back because he’d squish the filling and the throws that were there for decoration, placed perfectly, giving the apartment the impression of lived in warmth without any actual emotion in it.

He sold the apartment to Jack, waiting for the heartbreak of the end of a years long relationship to finally hit him. But it never did.

Maybe his emotions were all worn out and it would hit him properly later.

The same way he knew he still hadn’t fully registered that Wayne was gone yet.

So.

Now he was here.

Standing in the cold of the trailer park, his breath fogging up in front of him, snow crushed underneath his boots and night blanketing him. He had a box of stuff in his arms, rooted to the ground between his still warm car and the dark and shadowed front door, thinking hysterically for a moment that he hadn’t asked Wayne if he could move back in.

But he couldn’t, of course he couldn’t, Wayne was gone and he wasn’t coming back and Eddie had no way of contacting him in the fucking afterlife if there even was one to ask if he could turn up on his doorstep again in almost the exact same way he had nearly fifteen years ago.

Wayne would have probably given him a light smack over the back of the head and told him he was always welcome, no matter the circumstances.

Still. 

It felt wrong to just assume he could be here without checking in with him first.

He could hear his voice in his head, could almost see him standing silhouetted in the warm glow of the doorway, looking soft and worn in. “Get your ass in here son, before you freeze to death.”

Eddie blinked and the door was closed and dark and empty again. There was no noise coming from inside the trailer, no sound of the tv going, no smells of cooking, no heat, no light.

It was an empty shell.

The glow of the other trailers surrounded him, the small muffled noises of life going on inside each and every one, warm yellows spilling out of their windows or multicoloured lights lining their roofs or their porches, Mariah Carey singing her heart out somewhere in the distance.

“No one ever tells you the front door is one of the hardest parts.”

Eddie jumped, whipping his head around to find the same redheaded woman standing off to the side, bundled up in a thick homemade scarf and puffer jacket, her hands in her pockets and winter boots unlaced, like she'd just thrown them on, the grooves in the snow behind her telling him she’d walked to him from somewhere across the park.

Eddie squeezed the box a little tighter to himself, finally feeling the biting cold through his fingers.

“Yeah. I-” he swallowed, looking up at the door again. “How long have I been standing here?”

He could hear the snow crunching under her boots as she came closer. “I don’t know.” Fabric rustled somewhere beside him as she shrugged. “Mrs. Cartwright only told me you were out here a few minutes ago. I dunno how she even noticed, she can barely see five foot in front of her face.”

Eddie turned to the trailer he remembered the old lady living in to see her sitting by the window, squinting out into the snow. She offered him a toothless smile and a little wave when she saw the two of them looking back.

He was just about able to unstick his hand from the box to wave back.

“And you’re her-?”

“Neighbour. But I check in on her as often as I can. She’s good company.” 

“Oh.”

The two of them stood there, in the cold, in the snow, just looking at each other and Eddie could feel the spectre of the dark and empty trailer looming over him. Before this redhead turned up, he could have conceivably turned back, gotten into the car and found a motel room or something for the night. This might have all been easier to face in the daytime.

But now he’d been seen, he was trapped and he couldn’t escape. He wasn’t sure if he could do it.

“When my mom died,” the woman said, coming around to face him, “I just kinda switched off. I was on autopilot for a lot of the time but my first day back at the trailer after the burial, I couldn’t go inside. She wasn’t in there anymore. Same as you, I don’t know how long I was out there before Steve came and found me.”

“You’re Max.” Eddie said, his brain finally putting the pieces together. “Wayne talked about you.”

Max’s face broke out into a wide delighted grin. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Eddie smiled back. “He said you never wore your helmet when you were skateboarding.”

She snorted. “Yeah. And the one time he finally convinced me to, I took a hell of a tumble. Broke my-”

“Leg, I think it was?”

“Nah, man.” Max shook her head. “Not just my leg, I broke my damn femur. Strongest bone in the body and snap.” She clapped her gloved hands together, muffling what should have surely been a hard impact. “With six months of therapy to go along with it. Got me into the job I’m in today, though.”

“He said you’re a physical therapist?”

“Yup. And he said you’re a writer.”

Eddie nodded.

“Well then, Writer Eddie Munson. How do you feel about the front door now?”

He looked back up, finding that it wasn’t quite as intimidating as it had been before.

“A little better.”

“Good. I’m glad. Can I give you a hand?”

“Oh, uh-” he looked back down at the box in his hand, flexing his fingers around the keychain he still had hanging off his thumb. “Yeah, actually. If you don’t mind.”

Max nodded, stepping forward and taking the box from him. Eddie gave her a small smile before squaring his shoulders and facing the door once more and stepping up towards the porch before he could stop himself.

Amongst his set of similar shaped keys, he easily found the one to the trailer, the same one he had cut out of a black blank when he was younger and so edgy.

With a deep breath he slipped it into the lock and turned, feeling it catch like it always did halfway through and jostling it in a way that was so familiar from years of doing the same thing, it hit him like a truck.

He swallowed down hard as he gestured Max in, switching the lights on.

It didn’t smell like Wayne anymore. Not really. It had been weeks since anyone had been inside. But the memory of the smell was there. 

It was freezing, an empty shell of a building that had been left to hold its ghosts. The pipes were probably frozen through too, but he and Wayne had handled that plenty of times before, this would be nothing new. 

Everything of Waynes was still here. His boots were by the door, his jackets were hung up, his mugs lined the walls. The remote was on the floor next to his recliner, like it had been accidentally nudged off of the arm and hadn’t been picked up yet.

It was like Wayne had just stepped out, or was hiding in another room.

Eddie could feel his heart start to crumble just a little more.

The two of them got his boxes and bags unpacked from his car and into the trailer in silence. He was pretty sure Max knew that he was just waiting for her to leave so he could break down in peace but even so, she turned to face him after placing the last box down.

“You can say no.” She said, hands back in her pockets. “But a few friends are flying in on Thursday and we’re going to meet up at Cathy’s. You’re welcome to come if you’re feeling up for it.”

Cathy’s pub, Wayne used to go there all the time. The actual name of the place was The Attic, but no one called it that, everyone called it Cathy’s. As much of an Irish pub as one could get out in Hawkins without actually being an Irish Pub. It just happened to be run by an Irish woman who refused to entertain four leaf clovers and green pints and had kicked people out in the past for calling it ‘Patty’s Day’ instead of ‘Paddy’s Day.’

Eddie nodded at her, his eyes already starting to mist up from everything settling around his shoulders.

“Thanks.” He sniffled. “I’ll think about it.”

She offered him a gentle smile and said her goodbyes, not lingering around when he so clearly wanted to be on his own.

He watched through the window as Max carved a path through the snow back to Mrs. Cartwright’s trailer, before closing his eyes, taking a deep breath and starting to unpack.

Last night had been one of the roughest nights of Eddie’s entire life.

He’d only managed to switch the electric heater on and open one box before the silence got to him.

He’d switched on the tv and had to flip channels for far too long before he found what he was looking for because he didn’t know where the sports channels were hidden away, he’d never wanted or needed to look for them before.

But having the trailer filled with the sound of sports commentators and the crowds in the stadium and an obscene amount of advertisements was enough to make him crack.

He’d ended up in a ball on the floor, crying so much he felt like he’d never stop, breathing so hard he felt himself getting lightheaded.

Every time the tears subsided and he had started to get a handle on himself, he saw something that would start the cycle all over again. The Garfield mug, Wayne’s favourite winter hat, the stash of red vines he kept hidden beside his armchair, a habit he got into and never got out of when they were living together to keep them away from Eddie’s sweet-tooth.

By the time Eddie had pulled himself up to curl into the couch, he had a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a nest of Wayne’s clothes surrounding him, the smell just barely lingering. 

He drank himself into a stupor.

The morning after was equally rough but in an entirely different way. When he was woken up by the sound of daytime life outside the trailer door, bleary and foggy, he recognised his surroundings before anything else. 

“Wayne?” He’d called, half expecting to turn to find him in his armchair, the sounds of the sports channel still filling in the space of the room. 

But then he remembered. 

All over again he remembered.

He was barely able to do anything for himself that day. Most of it was spent staring off into space, waiting for things to get better, like everyone always said it would. Waiting for the pain to dull and to be able to function again. 

He stood in the doorway of what had been Wayne’s bedroom and then his own and became Wayne’s again once he moved out.

He never thought he’d be back here, moving back into this exact same bedroom all over again. 

He didn’t sleep in the bed that night. Or the night after. 

He couldn’t. Not yet.

He had managed to get the water running, so that was a plus and by the time he had some of his stuff unpacked the trailer no longer looked like a warehouse full of boxes, but instead looked like a cluttered and messy home.

He didn’t have the strength to move any of Wayne’s things, so his own stuff just kind of existed in corners or on countertops and it was fine.

Everything was fine.

This was his life now.

This was what he wanted.

It was fine.

Snow was starting to swirl around him as he stood outside Cathy’s, slowly accumulating in his hair and building up around his boots as the warm light and laughter inside seeped out of the building. 

There were twinkling multi-colored lights lining the outside and glittering through the fogged up windows and Eddie could see inside was decorated with green garlands draped from every available surface, red, gold and silver baubles woven in throughout and topped off with a healthy smattering of tinsel.

It was the most inviting thing he had seen recently and he ached to go inside. It was just so full of memories.

But he was stuck. 

Rooted to the spot like he had been outside the trailer door a few days ago.

Wayne would have loved all of this. 

He loved Christmas. 

He loved Christmas late nights at Cathy’s.

And it was only really then, when he’d been so painfully aware of it in the back of his mind for the last few weeks, that this was going to be the first Christmas he had to endure without Wayne. 

“Eddie?”

Well, no running now. 

But it wasn’t Max this time.

“Eddie Munson, my god. Is that really you?”

Eddie turned and was met by the sight of someone he hadn’t seen in the longest time.

“Chris?”

Chrissy Cunningham was standing in front of him in all her short and bright glory with a blinding smile on her face. Something deep in him warmed under her gaze. They hadn’t been friends for very long before they both skipped town in opposite directions, not to mention the ill-fated crushes they had both quietly harboured for each other once upon a time, but that was never gonna work out.

Even so, a friendly face he recognised was just what he needed right now. Someone to help him brace everything in front of him through those doors. The Wayne of it all. And the terror of potentially being introduced to a whole group of people as a new outsider, in mourning, no less.

A loud burst of laughter rang out from inside as they looked at each other and Eddie felt something fizzle and settle gently in his chest. 

In a tiny little moment, they clicked again, still friends after all this time, no matter the distance.

Chrissy looked at him, a thousand emotions passing through her eyes as she worked through what she was going to say. She had definitely heard about Wayne’s death. Wayne had taken her in on more than one occasion when her mother had gotten to be too much.

Eddie had to get his ability to collect strays from somewhere, after all.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. By the time I heard I couldn’t get a flight in time and I should have been here for you.”

“It’s okay.” he smiled at her. And it was okay, really. 

She wormed her hand in between his elbow and his side where they were clenched tight from the cold, looping her arm through.  “I’ll stick with you the whole night if you want me to.”

Eddie’s whole body sagged in relief, not knowing he needed to hear it until he did. 

“Please.”

Chrissy nodded, a steely look of determination on her face and their arms held tight together as they pushed their way inside.

The warm glow and homely smells hit him immediately and he felt his shoulders loosen even more. It was loud inside but not unbearable, the sounds of conversation mingling in with the speakers softly playing out a mix of traditional Irish music and what had to be some Christmas best hits album. 

Eddie dragged his eyes across the bar, while Chrissy looked around at the people sitting at various tables and booths. 

“Are you looking for anyone in particular?” He asked.

“I only just flew in today. I’m supposed to be meeting up with a number of- oh! There they are.”

She pointed towards the back by the fire that Cathy had put in, claiming it couldn’t be a proper pub without a fire. The series of tables were all pushed a little closer to each other, overflowing with people and Eddie had to blink at them a few times, realising there were definitely a few familiar faces grinning back at him and waving the two of them over.

The first person he recognised was Max, her bright red hair standing out amongst the sea of browns and chestnuts and blacks. It was then that his eye was drawn around the table and saw his Corroded Coffin boys and the Hellfire kids looking back at him. 

Damn, he’d forgotten to tell the boys about his impulsive move back here. He hadn’t really told anyone about it apart from Jack. But they didn’t seem to hold it against him. It was plain as day on their faces that they knew he might not exactly be doing things logically right about now.

And then there were the Hellfire kids. 

Or he supposed he could hardly call them kids anymore. 

They would all be somewhere in their mid-twenties at this stage and wasn’t that just a mind trip?

They all stood to greet Chrissy and himself, hugs and pats on the back all around, the Hellfire kids and Max introducing one of the few truly unfamiliar faces amongst the bunch, El. Another woman he vaguely recognised gave him a small wave but eventually he realised who she was, because this was a small town and everyone at least knew of everyone in one way or the other. 

Robin Buckley, from band.

What a strange mix of people.

She and Chrissy shared a long look with each other, eventually revealing that Robin was her long term girlfriend.

Eddie nodded along, told her it was nice to meet her but couldn’t help the taste of bitterness that rose up in his throat when he looked at the two of them, not being able to remember the last time he had been out with Jack and feeling like his company was enjoyed and Jack wasn’t just waiting to go home with or without him. 

It had barely been a week since they had broken up but the loneliness had been there for a while. 

He had only just managed to get his coat and scarf off before Cathy appeared at their table, a drink in each hand.

“Eddie, darling.” She said, placing the two drinks down in front of him and scooping him up into a hug. “It’s so good to see you back home, love.”

She was an older woman, warm and wrinkled and soft, smelling vaguely of cigarette smoke and perfume in a mix that shouldn’t have been as comforting as it was.

“Thanks, Cathy.” He muttered into her neck, pulling back away only to find his face in her hands. 

“If you need anything at all, you know where to find me, right?”

He gave her a shaky smile, not really sure what to do with himself, he could feel everyone else at the table watching them.

“Yeah.”

“Good boy.” She grinned back at him, petting his cheek before gesturing down at the drinks she dropped off at the table.

“This is for you, love. On the house.” She pointed at the beer bottle. “And this one,” she rested her hand next to the glass of whiskey, neat. Wayne’s drink. “It’s tradition. One last tipple for your dear uncle. And none of you,” she whipped around, pointing an accusing finger at everyone in the booth, “are to touch it.”

They all stared up at her wide eyed and nodded while she turned her smile back on Eddie. “You take care of yourself, now. You hear me?”

“I’ll do my best.” He gave her a short salute and she rolled her eyes at him in a good natured way before turning and heading back to the bar.

Eddie swept his eyes over the pub, hoping to get an idea of how much of a scene had been made, as quiet as they had been tucked away in their corner. But before he could take a proper inventory, the doors were pushed open and even from the back of the pub Eddie could feel the cold following in the figure's wake.

The newcomer brushed the snow out of his hair and stomped his shoes out before flashing a smile at Cathy and weaving his way through the tables towards them.

He was almost offensively pretty, his cheeks, nose and lips rosy from the cold, unwinding a scarf from around his neck, giving Eddie a glance at a spattering of moles across his skin. He ran a hand through his hair again, trying to get out the last of the snow.

He looked so familiar. 

It had been a long ten or so years since they'd seen each other, but it couldn’t be. 

Could it?

“Hi, sorry I’m late, I-”

“Harrington?”

Steve Harrington stopped short, standing in front of him, staring at him with cheeks getting slightly redder.

“Eddie.” He said, a little breathlessly, running his hand through his hair again, but it seemed to be more from nerves this time. “Hi.”

Oh, so they were on first name terms? Okay, he could deal with that. 

Except that maybe he couldn’t deal with it, because his childhood Big Gay Crush was standing in front of him, smiling at him and looking like he’d just been beamed out of the campest Christmas movie in existence, the warm glow of the Christmas lights and the fire dancing across his skin, bundled up in a dark red sweater and his hair was somehow still perfect.

But he was saved from having to respond as the group started shuffling around to greet him, Robin reaching out to pull him into a tight hug, like they hadn’t seen each other in ages.

Eddie moved back, sitting down at a stool at the edge of the tables, next to Chrissy and across from Robin and Steve who were whispering fiercely to each other, Robin explaining the whiskey on the table wasn’t to be touched and sending what they must have thought were subtle nods in his direction and well, he wasn’t sure what else he expected from tonight.

Apparently he was a local spectacle now.

But still, his boys were here, the Hellfire kids were here, Chrissy was here, he had plenty of people available to him to distract himself from Steve sitting directly across from him.

He had only managed to get halfway through the drink Cathy had brought him before he was approached again, this time by an older man who he recognised as one of the guys on Wayne’s shift.

He placed a fresh drink down in front of Eddie and told him Wayne was a good man, that the world was a little dimmer for his passing and he was a hell of a baseball player back in the day, could throw a ball at speed like no one he had ever seen since.

Eddie smiled and listened as the guy spoke, the clear affection and joy he had for his uncle warming his heart.

It was barely ten minutes after that guy had gone back to his own group that Eddie was approached again, another drink placed down in front of him and more sympathies and stories of Wayne’s past gifted to him from people who had known him.

It went on like that throughout the whole night, a steadily revolving door of people coming to talk to him about his uncle. 

Stories of the stupid and dangerous shit they had gotten up to in their childhoods, stories of cow tipping (which Eddie had heard from Wayne’s own mouth was a bold faced lie but a fun one to tell), tractor racing (which he had not heard about) and one time Wayne had been chased out of Farmer Dan’s barn by the man himself wielding a shotgun, convinced he’d been corrupting his daughter.

Stories of nights playing poker, learning to never ever trust his poker face, his abysmal luck when it came to his fantasy football teams and how much he loved to get a bit of drink in him and sing at the top of his lungs, which Cathy always humoured, often joining in.

Almost as if she had been summoned, Cathy appeared at his other side.

“Will we have a little sing-song for your uncle, love?”

Eddie looked up at her and thought about it. To hear the accented and cracking old voices singing along to the songs that just seemed to live in pubs like these would probably hurt, but it would be like lancing a wound. 

It would sting but it would be healing.

“Yeah.” He said. “I don’t see why not.”

“Would you do us the honours, then?”

Eddie felt his eyes go wide. He was never really much of a singer. “Oh. No,” he blushed, shaking his head, “I don’t think so, I’ll leave that up to the professionals.” He gestured around to the group of older men he had managed to collect as the night wore on. “If it’s one thing Wayne didn’t hand down to me, it was his singing voice.”

Cathy waved him off. “Oh nonsense, you have a lovely voice.”

He really didn’t.

“I really don’t.”

“We’ll be singing along with you anyway-”

“No, I’d rather not-”

“I could do it for you.”

Eddie turned to face Steve who was looking the least nervous that he had for the entire night, his gaze steady and confident, clearly comfortable in his singing ability. Robin was staring hard at the side of his head, like she was trying to beam thoughts directly into his brain. Eddie’s heart was thumping in his chest and he could feel his cheeks start to heat up, something he was pretty sure had little to do with the drink.

“You sing, Steve?”

Robin’s mouth ticked up at Eddie’s question though she tried to hide it, like she was harbouring a little secret.

“I’ve been known to.” Steve’s own lips curled up, shooting that tiny little smile Eddie’s way and-

Oh.

Oh shit.

Childhood Big Gay Crush, you’ve been upgraded to Current Big Gay Crush.

“Any requests?”

Eddie thought back. 

There was only one song that came to mind to kick them off.

Wayne had always loved a certain type of song to sing in the pubs and when Metallica came out with a cover of one of them, a cover of the Thin Lizzy version? It was solidified. 

It was their song, regardless of which version was being sung.

Now he just had to try to get through it without bursting into tears.

“Whiskey In The Jar.”

Steve smiled at him bright and blinding. “Thank god you didn’t say The Rattlin’ Bog.”

Eddie grinned back. “I couldn’t dump you in the deep-end like that, sweetheart.”

Cathay was practically bouncing with excitement and when Steve opened his mouth and started to sing, not a hint of bashfulness or embarrassment to be seen, it didn’t take long for Wayne’s friends to join in, singing and clapping along, stomping their feet and whooping. 

Eddie just sat and listened. Just for that one song. He could feel it settle around his heart and clog up his throat but he could handle it. Steve’s voice was smooth and clear, like it all came to him with zero effort, like he was born to it, the bastard.

Eddie was able to keep it together through that song and while the applause surrounded him and Steve was starting to field suggestions for more songs, the rest of their table started to join in, the energy of the pub becoming electric.

As the night wore on and Eddie was handed drink after drink, he found himself drifting right into the group, until he was in the middle, Steve’s arm stretched over the back of the booth behind them, squished in together as they were. They didn’t strictly need to be as pressed up against each other as they were, but neither of them were moving and Eddie would take his comforts where he could, listening to the voice vibrating from the body next to him.

Eddie was able to hold it together until they decided they’d do one last song and he knew he wasn’t going to survive it dry eyed.

Of all the money that ever I had,

I spent it in good company.

Steve had barely gotten through the first verse before the tears started, just a slow and quiet trickle but noticed immediately regardless.

Steve’s hand dropped from where it was at the back of the booth to land around Eddie’s shoulders, giving him a little squeeze while Chrissy took his hand, resting her head on his shoulder. 

Steve sang slow and unaccompanied, his voice ringing out clear and steady while Cathy and Wayne’s friends listened with heads hung low. He let the last notes fade out, keeping Eddie tucked in tight to his side as the applause rang out and everyone started making their moves to head home.

Even as Eddie had to go through the rigmarole of shaking hands and kissing cheeks, much drunker than he thought he was, Steve held onto him. He heard more than one of Wayne’s friends mutter “You take care of him, you hear?” or “Get him home safe” and each time Steve smiled and nodded, assuring them he would.

He didn’t know exactly when he had become Steve’s problem but he was too drunk to care, it was nice to be looked after for once.

Sunlight was spearing straight through his head. Someone hadn’t closed the blinds properly last night and now he was being assaulted by this world's version of Pelor in what had to be some kind of revenge for something terrible he must have done in a past life. 

Dragging his eyes around the trailer, he was thankful that he was on the couch. He hadn’t slept in Wayne’s bed since moving back here. He didn’t think he would be able to for a while yet. At least not until he started moving some of his stuff out and who knew how long that might take.

It didn’t feel right, taking Wayne out of his own bedroom for the second time in his life. 

But even so, he wondered which poor misfortune from the pub last night had been the one to deal with him and take him home, probably seeing the state things had been left in and the fact that he was clearly using the couch as a bed.

Maybe it had been Max. He kind of hoped it had been Max, he felt like she could probably relate the best, though Chrissy would have been kind about it too.

Eddie was able to drag himself up to sitting, still clad in his t-shirt and boxers, so at the very least, whoever had spilled him onto the couch last night didn’t get an accidental show.

There was something sticking in the back of his head that it could have been Steve who brought him home but that would be the most embarrassing eventuality of all so he just straight up ignored it, making his coffee as strong as humanly possible and dragging himself and the coffee into the shower. 

Today was gonna be… today was gonna be an inside day. He didn’t think he could stomach the outside world, all the brightness and snow and Christmas lights and festive cheer in mourning and hungover.

His trailer was the only one left in the park undecorated. He couldn’t…

He just couldn’t.

Not right now, anyway.

Maybe next year.

He and Wayne had always done it together. Even when Eddie had moved away from home, he’d make the drive back down at the start of December every year to help, staying the night and then going back to Jack for a couple of weeks then coming back again for the week of Christmas.

He-

Oh.

He was going to be completely alone this year.

He didn’t just not have Wayne. 

He didn’t have Jack either.

And no doubt, everyone who was back in town was back in town for their own reasons, to see their own friends and family, not to bring in a stray mourner who would undoubtedly bring the mood down. 

Well, that was fucking depressing. 

But it was fine.

He’d make himself a mountain of waffles and eat nothing but those all day and watch stupid horror movies and smoke himself into oblivion to avoid the destructive hangover and it would be fine. 

It would hardly be a Christmas but it would be fine.

A knock at the door made him blink and woke him up from his daily routine of staring off into space. He had finally found himself feeling somewhat human, at least physically. Dressed and dried and on his second round of coffee and first round of painkillers, standing in the doorway to Wayne’s bedroom again when the knock came.

He glanced between the front door and the bedroom, wondering if it was even worth it to see what salesperson or caroler was on the other end. They didn’t deserve his moody ambivalence, but whoever it was knocked again and maybe just the sight of him would be enough to scare them away.

He swung the door open and nearly closed it immediately when Steve looked up at him with a shy smile. 

He didn’t know if he could handle this right now. 

“Hi.” Steve said, his cheeks pink either from the cold or from embarrassment, Eddie wasn’t sure which. 

He was like… fifty percent sure that Steve might be, maybe, giving him some signals but also he got very, very drunk last night and he was pretty sure he remembered crying on someone’s shoulder after he got home too so, he was probably not the best judge of these things.

“Hi.” Eddie clutched his coffee cup tighter in his hand. “I’d invite you in, but I would rather you not see how I’m living right now.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “I’ve already- nevermind.” He shook his head. “I can’t stay long anyway, I just wanted to check if you were okay after last night.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows and blew a breath out through his lips. “I’m… I’m. Well. I’m… coping, I suppose.”

Steve nodded, eyes cast down to glance around the porch. There was a flake of snow clinging to one of his eyelashes, Eddie didn’t know how it got there. It hadn’t been snowing that morning, not from what he’d seen anyway, cooped up inside. Steve looked up towards the roof of the trailer and then around the edges, no doubt taking in its depressing and undecorated exterior.

“Listen, I-” 

Steve hesitated, his cheeks burning a little brighter, hands shoved in his pockets and arms curled in tight towards himself. Eddie felt a little bad about leaving him out here in the cold, not even inviting him in regardless of how it was inside, it felt unnecessarily mean but he didn’t know if he could handle having Steve in his space right now. He felt like he was at either a knife’s edge or unbearably dull this morning.

“I wanted to offer you- or, I don’t know. If you didn’t have any plans, that- well, I’m hosting everyone at my place on Christmas day and you would be more than welcome if you wanted to come. Y’know… if you weren’t… if you didn’t-”

“If I’m gonna be alone?”

Steve turned his big sad eyes on him, mouth gone slack from shock. 

“No! No, that’s not what I meant. I never meant to suggest-”

Eddie shrugged, taking a sip from his mug. 

“It’s an unfortunate fact, right now, Stevie. I am alone. It’s depressing but it’s the truth.”

“Well.” Steve took a big breath in. “It doesn’t have to be.”

Eddie hummed, rocking back and forth on his feet. “Who’s everyone? I don’t know if I would be able to handle your parents. No offence.”

Steve scoffed. “None taken. They haven’t set foot in that house in nearly ten years. It’s not theirs anymore, it’s mine.”

“Oh. They dead too?”

To Steve’s credit, he didn’t flinch at the words that were maybe a little harsher than they needed to be, he met Eddie’s eye, determined and unwavering.

“No, they’re not. They left Hawkins, left me the house, called it my inheritance and drove off. They’re in New York now. We exchange Christmas cards but that’s about it.”

Eddie was a little bewildered.

“You don’t talk to them at all?”

Steve shrugged. “We know who we are to each other.”

So Steve still had parents out there in the world and they just… didn’t talk to each other? And from the sounds of it, all three of them seemed fine with that? Now that sounded depressing. 

“Steve, I’m… I’m sorry.”

Steve tilted his head, their eyes never once wavering. “It’s a different kind of mourning, I suppose.” He shuffled a little bit in the cold and fuck, Eddie really should have invited him inside, but it looked like he was getting ready to leave anyway. “So, on the day it’ll be me, Rob and Chris. The kids will come over later on in the evening. And I think Dustin has invited those three guys from your band too, so they might show up. Like I said, no pressure, you do whatever it is you’re comfortable with but I think they’d all like to see you, I’d-” 

Steve swallowed, his face getting pinker.

“I’d like to see you.”

Eddie could feel a grin tugging at his lips, something giddy and hopeful blooming in his belly despite everything. “Oh, would you now?”

Steve flashed him a charming grin, his shoulders relaxing almost imperceptibly while he dragged his eyes down towards Eddie’s lips and then back up. “I would.”

“Well then, I’ll have to see what I can do.”

Despite the things he said to Steve, he wasn’t sure he was going to turn up until he did.

He’d gotten into his car Christmas morning with a thermos of hot chocolate and an insulated blanket and visited Wayne.

He’d placed Wayne’s old fashioned chipped and battered mug that he only ever drank hot chocolate out of at Christmas time, a painted wreath and ‘Merry Christmas’ decorating the front, down next to the wooden cross dug into the head of his grave.

The headstone wouldn’t be finished for another few weeks.

He spread the blanket down over the snow, wishing he’d thought to bring a cushion but powering through regardless.

He poured out some hot chocolate for himself and Wayne, sat back, drank and just… talked.

He told Wayne about his breakup with Jack, about selling the apartment, about moving back into the trailer, apologised for not checking in with him first before he did. He talked about everyone who came to the funeral and the night at the pub, the songs, the people he spoke to, the friends he found there.

Steve.

He might have spent a little longer talking about Steve. It was nothing Wayne hadn’t heard before, though. Eddie had talked about him a lot during school.

He rambled and tripped over his words and laughed and cried.

He was alone in the graveyard. No one else was visiting at this cold hour of the morning, they would all probably stop by after mass or after dinner but Eddie hated the idea of not seeing him first thing.

Going back home after that was hard.

His hands were stiff and creaking, his ass was so numb from the cold it had come back around to hurting again and he didn’t know if it would ever thaw, but sitting in his van outside the trailer, looking at it cold and empty and undecorated he knew he couldn’t spend the whole damn day here.

He wasn’t sure what time he was supposed to show up to Steve’s but it seemed like an informal enough invite so he tried to distract himself as best as he could before he could make his appearance at an appropriate time.

He called it tidying but it was really just moving things around from corner to corner, trying to find spaces for his stuff to live, but at the very least the trailer no longer looked like Eddie had just dumped his entire life out onto the living room floor.

Which… he had but it didn’t really look like it anymore.

By the time the evening started to close in around him, he figured now was as good a time as any to go, it was certainly a better idea than sitting around with his blank word document, bouncing his knee or chewing on his fingers or staring off into space.

He did try to at least pull himself together to look presentable enough. Or as presentable his ripped jeans would allow him to be. 

At the last second he reached for one of Wayne’s flannels, a buffalo check in red and black that felt Christmassy enough, slipping it on over his t-shirt and under his jacket.

Steve’s house was completely decked out. Even from the outside Eddie could tell he’d gone all out, every edge of the roof was crawling with twinkling warm white lights, there were LED candle arches lighting up every window and a large wreath surrounding the door knocker. Through the windows he could see that the inside was much the same.

Steve’s whole face lit up into a bright smile when he opened the door to Eddie standing there with his hands in his pockets.

“You came.” He breathed.

“I did.” Eddie smiled back. “I hope you don’t mind, I'm a little empty handed. By the time I remembered it was polite to bring something to these things it was already too late and I’ve been a little scatter-brained recently-”

“No, no. That’s fine, Eds.” Steve waved him in and Eddie tried not to let his stomach completely fly away with him at the nickname. “Come in. I’m just happy you're here, empty handed or not.”

Just like Steve had that night at the pub in his red sweater and perfectly tousled hair, the entire house looked like it had been transported out of a Christmas movie. The space was warmly lit by various lights strung around the bannister, fresh green garlands swagged over doorways and the fireplace, which was roaring and warm.

Red and green stockings were lined up over the mantle, almost too many to fit, and a large regal Christmas tree was decked out to the nines with a mishmash of different coloured decorations.

The tree and the garlands gave the whole place an inviting smell, complemented by the scent of cooking and baking that was wafting in from the kitchen.

Steve helped him slip his jacket off his shoulders, hanging it up over the coat rack.

“Can I get you something to drink? You’re just in time, dinner should be coming out of the oven any second now.”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

Steve shot him a blinding smile, turning and disappearing through an entryway while Eddie wandered to stand in front of the fire.

He stared down at it, letting the warmth spread over him wondering if he really should be feeling… more? Less? 

He still felt sad that Wayne was gone and excited at the idea that something might be brewing with Steve, but was that right? Was that normal? Should there be other things? He didn’t know.

He was distracted from those thoughts by the sound of bickering coming from the kitchen.

“Rob, let me just-”

“No, get out!”

Steve stumbled through the doorway with a little pout on his face, managing to keep the two wine glasses in his hands from spilling over.

“Did you just get kicked out of your own kitchen?”

“Yeah.” He grumbled, handing one of the glasses to Eddie and Eddie did not blush when their fingers light grazed one another. He was an adult fucking man who’d done many filthy, dirty things in his life. He did not blush at a finger graze. “She won’t let me do anything else. Said I’ve cooked enough already which, I don’t know how that could possibly be true considering it isn’t even finished yet but-”

Steve cut himself off with a bite to his lip.

“Sorry, that’s- nevermind. I’m rambling.”

“It’s okay, Stevie. I don’t mind.”

Steve smiled, a little more to himself than to Eddie and said softly, “I like it when you call me that.”

Eddie had to drag his eyes away, the sweetness of Steve’s grin was too much to handle right now.

“I like it when you call me Eds.”

They were just standing there smiling at each other and slowly rocking on their feet, like they wanted to inch forwards but neither was brave enough to take the leap.

“Are you in the food industry? Is that why Robin gave you the boot?”

“No.” Steve shook his head. “I think I probably would have liked it, but no. I sing. Singer-songwriter, really but- I mean- I’m in music.”

“Really?” Eddie’s mouth was maybe hanging open a little wider than it needed to be, but Steve didn’t seem to mind. He hadn’t torn his eyes away. “I mean you have the voice for it, but shit, that’s not an easy industry to be in.”

Steve shrugged. “It could be worse. I work independently so I don’t have anyone breathing down my neck about it.”

“Anything I would have heard?”

“I dunno.” Steve blushed, hiding behind his wine glass as he took a sip. “Don’t really think it’s your type of music.”

“I’ll give anything a try once.”

Steve grinned a little and Eddie could tell there was a joke hidden in there somewhere that Steve graciously didn’t voice aloud. “It’s a mix of everything I suppose. But if you were to put a genre on it I’d call it indie rock.”

“I’m just letting you know right now, little eighteen year old Eddie is green with jealousy. I’ll have to look you up.”

“Please don’t.” Steve grimaced, his whole face bright red. “I don’t think I would be able to live with the embarrassment. And what about you, anyway? How’s the new book going?”

“Uh,” Eddie cast around for an answer before gulping back a mouthful of wine. “It’s going… it’s going. I’ve been kinda stuck at a wall for a few months now, but hopefully something will come to me soon.” He frowned to himself before looking back up at Steve. “How did you hear I was writing a new book? I wouldn’t have even thought you’d remember who I was, like in general.”

“How could I not remember you? You’re hard to forget.”

It was Eddie’s turn to hide behind his wine glass now. He wasn’t exactly sure how true that was, considering everything about his past relationship.

“But… uh. As for how I knew,” Steve rubbed that back of his neck, “I’ve read them. Your books, I mean.”

Eddie’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. 

“You have? And you read them knowing it was me who wrote them?” He laughed to himself. “Didn’t think you’d be into queer vampire action romance.”

“You have no idea what I’m into Eds.” Steve answered, his eyes low and lidded, a smirk pulling up at the side of his mouth.

Eddie was saved from making a further fool of himself when Robin and Chrissy appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“Feast’s served!”

The girls each said their hello’s, an arm squeeze from Robin and a hug and a kiss on the cheek from Chrissy before he was practically pushed down into his seat.

The dining table was large enough to have everything on the table, turkey, ham and all the trimmings, bowls with spoons sticking out of them and plates with tongs, even enough space left over for candles and decor in the middle of it all.

As bowls were passed around and both Steve and Robin made the first move on the food, tipping servings out to Eddie and Chrissy before themselves, Eddie found himself getting lost in conversation from all three directions.

He gossiped with Chrissy while Steve and Robin bickered over the best cut of the turkey. 

Throughout the dinner, Robin tried to sneakily get rid of her sprouts by dropping them one by one onto Steve’s plate when he wasn’t looking, but he noticed every time, savouring them with a satisfaction that could only come from someone who actually liked them.

He got into his own good natured argument with Robin about marching band while Steve and Chrissy talked sports.

And he flirted.

Brazenly.

Probably far more brazenly than he should have but Steve always rose to meet the challenge with a curl of his lip and a glint in his eye.

By the time dessert was making the rounds he was pretty sure he could have fallen asleep sitting at the dining table, but finding room for the cakes and pies and trifles, as always.

Steve had stopped drinking after that first glass and while Eddie didn’t exactly want to get completely plastered, he still allowed himself to get to a polite level of tipsy.

The girls had no such worries, already rosy cheeked and a little sloppy by the time the kids and Eddie’s band arrived.

The rest of the night was full of Christmas music, the most ridiculous games of charades which Eddie won every time, pulling on his old DM skills and after a passionate argument on what the worst Christmas movie was, the winning candidate was turned on, everyone laughing and jeering along with it like it was a Rocky Horror showing, Eddie pressed into Steve’s side on the couch.

It was during a particularly loud moment, all of them booing the screen when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket.

Pulling it out he saw the screen light up with a name he hadn’t really thought of for most of the night.

Jack.

He stared down at the name for longer than he really needed to before sighing to himself.

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

Steve glanced between the phone and his face before settling into a gentle smile.

“Okay.” He gave his shoulder a small squeeze and Eddie got up, bringing the phone to his ear and stepping out of the room.

“Hello?”

There was a momentary pause on the other line before a quiet voice spoke. “Hi, Eddie.”

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what to say back to him. Why are you calling? Why are you suddenly interested? Has the guilt finally gotten to you? Is it because it’s Christmas and you thought I’d be alone?

In the end he didn’t have to say anything.

“I’m just- I guess I just wanted to see how you’re doing.” Jack sounded resigned and a little sad. If they had still been together, Eddie would have been trying to drag him out to the Christmas market or trivia nights or Christmas parties for the last few weeks and they would have been heading out in a day or two to spend the rest of the holidays with Jack’s family in Ohio. Jack had only come back with him for a Christmas with Wayne once before.

But it sounded like Jack was already with his family. Eddie could hear his mothers Michael Bublé Christmas album playing softly in another room.

“I’m doing…” Eddie sighed, leaning back against the wall. “I’m doing okay.”

A loud chorus of laughter burst through the sitting room, shouting and jeering following quickly behind.

“You’re out somewhere?”

Eddie glanced back through the door, watching everyone gathered either talking to each other, pointing in indignation at the tv, tucking into another serving of dessert or knocking back the last of their drink, all backlit by the Christmas lights and the fire.

“I’m with friends.”

“Good.” He could hear Jack nodding, wondering how he was handling his mothers questions or his fathers awkwardness that Eddie usually deflected for him. “That’s good. I’m glad you- I’m glad you’re not alone.”

No thanks to you, Eddie wanted to snap but kept it down. He didn’t have the energy for an argument right now. Didn’t want one. It was Christmas and he wanted to keep the comfortable, fuzzy feeling around for as long as he could.

Steve lifted his eyes, looking right at him and grinning, something soft, something warm and easy, just for him.

Eddie smiled back. “Yeah, me too.”

Steve drove him home that night. It was nearly two in the morning by the time he was bundled up in the car with a lap full of tupperware and his heart feeling lighter than it had for weeks now.

He’d been offered a room to stay in, but had refused. He didn’t want to impose any more than he already had and if he was honest with himself, he wanted to be at home. 

Plus he hadn’t brought anything for an overnight.

When they pulled up, Eddie tried to shuffle his way out of the car without dropping anything but eventually had to huff and hand some of the containers over when Steve offered to help him carry them all.

They were inside before Eddie remembered his previous refusal to let Steve in through the door, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Steve gave a cursory glance around but his eyes always seemed to be drawn back to Eddie, placing the containers down on the kitchen counter and assuring him he’d be back in the morning to drive Eddie back to his car.

“I hope you had a good time.” Steve looked at him, all warm and gooey and too good to be true.

“I had a great time, I think I needed it.” Eddie fidgeted with his rings, nervous all of a sudden. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Of course. It was great to see you, I’m glad you came.” 

They stood, staring at each other and Eddie had the urge to hide his face behind his hair, but he resisted.

Steve reached out, brushing a curl behind his ear and then leant in, placing a sweet and chaste kiss against his cheek and Eddie was left completely dazed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Eddie breathed, nodding. “Yeah, tomorrow.”

He watched Steve step out onto the porch and slide into his car, driving away with a little waggle of his fingers. Eddie unconsciously brought his hand up to brush over his cheek where he could still feel the tingle of Steve’s lips against his skin.

When the headlights of Steve’s car turned the corner, Eddie closed the door, staring at it in silence for a few moments before a hysterical little giggle burst out of his throat.

His whole body was wracked through with momentary excitement, forcing him to spin in a silly little circle. He stifled another giggle, sighing it out before his eyes landed on the couch.

He looked back up at a photo from a few years ago, of him and Wayne on a road trip that they had taken, sitting on a wooden fence surrounding a national park. Wayne always said it was just “One step at a time, boy. You’ll never get anywhere if you don’t take that first step.”

“Yeah, I hear you, Wayne.” Eddie responded out into the empty trailer. “First step.”

He looked up towards the bedroom.

He felt like, maybe tonight, maybe he could be comfortable with that first step.

Pulling a fresh set of bedsheets out of storage and turning back to the bed with them bundled up in his arms, he figured he’d just have to take it one step at a time.

I made a short playlist to go along with this fic containing the songs sung and the different versions mentioned along with one or two others I think they may have sung and my own favourites.

Some of you may have read I lost a family member a couple of weeks ago and I suppose this is my way of working through my feelings about it. It hit a little harder than I had intended but was healing to write nonetheless.

AO3

As always, my biggest thanks and much love to @hbyrde36 for the beta work with this and to the Stranger Things Writers Guild Discord for their motivation!

Christmas lights divider by @silkholland

[jesncin]

If you had the opportunity to have some voice actors casted for your iterations of Lois, Clark, Jimmy, Connor, Lex, Livewire, Rudy, and Brainiac (Basically the superman characters you've remixed so far) who would be perfect casting for each?

OOH YES here's some fancasts for my remix:

David Corenswet as Clark Kent! This is a really hard pick for me, I'm attached to Tim Daly's STAS voice for him but if I had to pick someone younger I guess this David Corenswet guy from the upcoming film looks pretty good? At least from clips I've seen of him he's got a good voice.

Brianne Tju as Lois Liando! She's a Chinese Indonesian actress and while she's young I think she's got the range. I'd love to see her twist on Dana Delaney's STAS performance because Delaney's got a fantastic hardened sassy woman voice. Tju's voice sounds great in this interview.

Haley Tju as Lucy Lane! Brianne has a sister which is PERFECT for Lois' sister Lucy! I heard Hayley's voice in Arlo the Alligator Boy as the tiger cat character and I think she sounds neat.

Michael J Woodard as Jimmy Olsen! Similarly as Haley I heard Woodard's voice on Arlo the Alligator Boy, he's the lead there as Arlo. His voice is high energy and fun! Plus he can SING which is great because I imagine Jimmy as a jack of all trades artist and shenanigans coupled with musical numbers would be perfection.

Dave Fennoy as Lex Luthor! This is locked and loaded for me. It frustrates me that no one has seen the vision here. This is the second coming of STAS Lex but BETTER. Just!! Listen to him as Bluebeard from the Wolf Among Us. This is phenomenal, the perfect voice already exists.

Toks Olagundoye as Lena Luthor! She's voiced Martha Wayne in Batman Unburied, and Cat Grant in Reign of Supermen among many roles. She'd bring the elegance Lena would need. I love her accent,,,

Donald Glover as Conner Kent/Luthor! Granted I would love a teen that can bring what he brought to Marshall Lee on Adventure Time but that performance is the Conner energy I want.

Gr33dyjay/Jhas Ean Prescott Corbitt as Rudy Jones/Parasite! While I love the Brion James' STAS voice for Parasite, I have become attached to Gr33dyjay's take on my version of Parasite. If you can bring a performance that can make me laugh like that, you're golden. If he brought just a bit of New York accent into it, even better.

ProZD/Sungwon Cho and Ellen McLain as Brainiac! I want these two to talk interchangeably and in synchronization for Brainiac. Cho serving Brau1589 realness and McLain bringing the GlaDOS good stuff. Heaven would open its gates if we ever heard a Brainiac voice like this, I believe that.

Nicole Sullivan as Livewire! This one is so, so difficult because the original Lori Petty voice for Livewire is essentially perfection. I think future takes need to find a distinct and youtuber bombastic charismatic voice for making a potentially unlikeable character fun to watch. Sullivan famously voices Shego on Kim Possible, and I think her voice has the uniqueness and sass that could revitalize Livewire. She just needs to do a version of the accent and energy.

AJ Michalka as Kara Zor El! I know Michalka's voice as Stevonnie on Steven Universe and Catra from She-Ra. I like her performance in both, it stands out and the lil rasp in her voice adds something. That gives Kara that kind of jaded world weary but still young voice. I know I haven't drawn Supergirl yet, but I've got plans.

Thanks for this ask! While I'm not familiar with tinsel town people in general, this was like a fun scavenger hunt, haha.

[adharastarlight]

Tis The Season

Two: Magic

Pandora drags Regulus to a Christmas market... Regulus who hates Christmas

“It all looks so pretty!” Pandora practically cooed it as she dragged her best friend into the Christmas market in town. Dragged being the correct word, he was all but clawing at her to make their journey stop. It was no secret that he hated the season, but he’d agreed to spend the day with her and she needed to find a present for Evan. He was the only one she hadn’t found something for and if he won their yearly contest, she’d have to admit he was the better twin. And that was never happening again.

“Yes, yes, very nice. Why couldn’t you order your present online like everyone else?”

“Because shopping for it is half the fun! Come on, Reginald! Your fiance is the biggest Christmas fan in the world, you could at least try not to scowl at every part of it. Try to enjoy it!”

“What is there to enjoy? The crappy songs? The capitalist-driven consumer driven splurges disguised as bonding? The awful movies which all look the exact same? The bloody sprouts? The ugly jumpers? The-”

“The magic of it, Reg!”

He scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest, “what magic?”

“All of it!”

Regulus sighed and gloomily trudged behind her as she pranced around each stall, oooing and ahhing every now and then. He glanced up occasionally and he had to admit some of the handmade pieces were beautiful, but it didn’t brighten his mood all that much. He liked winter, he did, just not the festivities which suffocated him during it. His brother seemed to have found a love for it, he’d even learned the dance from Mean Girls, which had admittedly scarred him for life. Remus was neither for or against the holiday which made him… somewhat bearable. He was however a sucker when it came to Sirius, which meant their small cottage became an assault to the senses, cinnamon mixed with cranberries and a constant flow of laughter and joy. The nerve of some people.

And then there was James. Stupidly perfect James, who of course had one fatal flaw. He adored Christmas. And Regulus? Well Regulus’ fatal flaw was James. So their house was coated in stupid tinsel and red and green and gold and a sprinkling of cheer from midnight on December first. Didn’t mean he liked it.

“Reg! Reg, look! Oh, it’s perfect!”

He looked over at her gleeful beckoning, at a small, ornate charm. It was of a holly leaf but didn’t seem absurdly Christmas orientated. It wouldn’t ruin the charm bracelet Evan had had for almost a decade now. Barty had found it in his mum’s old jewellery box and given it to his boyfriend and he hadn’t taken it off since. It was getting quite full now, a sprinkling of charms for different occasions and some just when the moment struck - he had one of a cactus and no one quite understood why.

“It’s gorgeous, Panda, it’ll go perfectly with the socks and book.”

“You think? Ooo, look there’s matching cufflinks. Do you think Barty would absolutely kill me if I got them for me?”

Reg laughed softly and shrugged, “considering he hates having to wear a suit to work, perhaps.”

“But they’re precious!”

“Get them, love, Ev wouldn’t let him kill you anyway. And we both know he’s whipped.”

She beamed at him before talking to the artist animatedly. He let her voice waft over him as he stared out at the people milling around, bundled up in their gloves and scarfs, woolly hats on giggling childrens’ heads. Hands were clasped around warm drinks, heads of couples bent together, their breath visible in the cool air as they muttered words. He supposed there could be a kind of beauty in the joy found in Christmas. The smiling faces and rosy cheeks, the way every word of the shivering carollers was tinted with a grin. Maybe he would like Christmas, if he wasn’t such a stubborn git.

“Okay! Where d’you want to go next?”

“Home?”

“Reg.”

He sighed and raised his hands in surrender, “tell me where we’re going then.”

Pandora grinned at him and tugged on his arm, leading him through the crowds to a small stall he hadn’t noticed on their initial loop around. It was covered in blank baubles and little containers of paint. “Can we, pretty please? The answer’s yes.”

He sighed, it’s not like he’d ever actually been very good at telling his best friend no, “I’ll watch.”

“He’ll paint.” The blonde said brightly to the man standing with a paint stained apron and a steaming mug between his gloved hands.

Regulus sat on the chair he was led to and stared at the bauble in front of him. His best friend had already started painting, chattering excitedly to the seller. He contemplated if she’d notice him darting away, but just as he’d concluded she would, his phone rang. He smiled at the screen as the name flashed up, “hi, mon amour.”

“Reggie! Where are you? I brought home dinner.”

He checked his watch and cursed under his breath, “I’m with Dora, she’s dragged me to this blasted market. I’m meant to be painting a bauble.”

James’ laugh trickled down the line and he had to force back a lovesick grin, “I’ll save you a plate, sweetheart. What’re going to paint?”

“Not the foggiest idea.”

“Hmm, what about a deer?”

“You’re biassed.”

“Just a little. Paint whatever you want, my love, it’s going front and centre whatever it is.”

Reg blushed and looked down at the white ball, “it is?”

“Of course, angel, you’re painting it.”

And there it was, alongside the butterflies soaring through his stomach, magic.

[fudgetunblr]

Guide to Studenten

Idk if anyone has done this because I haven't checked the tag, but anyways, here we go:

Swedish High School is three years of education, where you have a specific area of studies. I feel like perhaps someone has talked about this before, so let's not dwell on it.

There's usually countdowns, 250 days, 200 days, 100 days, 50 days, blah blah before where there are theme parties. You don't have to go to these, not everyone does, but the closer you get, there's more parties. The legal drinking age in Sweden is 18. However, you can't go out and buy your own at Systembolaget (the only alcohol company in Sweden) until you're 20. This doesn't really stop people, unsurprisingly.

The hats are the white ones they wore on the show, and back in the day it was very simple, something like this:

however, nowadays there's a lot more design options. You can pic your own tinsel in the middle, many go for stones. There are specific colours for different programs, but most people don't care. You usually put your name on it, other things that are common: your class name, the year you graduated, some put their school, and at the back of the hat many put a little quote on the back. You can also customise the inside. Often you pick a few of these things and not all, because the hat costs a lot of money :3 I made my own really cheap tbh.

Mösspåtagning is a typical event where the students get to wear their hats. Because of covid, ours was combined with like a prom, but usually this happens before that, according to google, often outside or whatever.

There's a prom. But that's pretty normal.

Champagnefrukost or champagne-breakfast happens the day of studenten, where you go to one of your classmates houses, usually one who lives closest to the school, and have breakfast with your class. There you hand out the plates around the neck, aka the "class... [insert whatever, take clown as an example]. You drink, you eat, sometimes teachers will stop by. You get hyped with your class for the day.

Then you head to the school.

There's a photographer that takes a picture of the whole class and then individual portraits that you can later chose to purchase.

You meet with your mentors and say goodbye. They usually hand out a little scholarship thingy for the person with the best grade in the class. You write your name inside your classmates hats. My mentors held speeches based on Carola songs, it was pretty great.

Utspring - you're running out of the school. You've chosen the song/songs that you're running to, you dance around, sometimes there's choreography, to be greeted by family and friends. Because of covid this activity was limited, but traditionally it is fucking packed with people from all different programs, because the times are more stacked on top of each other.

Your parents greet you with a plaque of a baby picture of yourself, with your name and class-name. You take pictures, you get a bunch of stuff hanging around your neck like tiny champagne bottles, teddybears with their own graduation caps, whistles, other loud shit you can use at:

Flak - or flatbed according to translate is when you ride at the back of one with your class and blast loud music and dance around while it drives you around town. They're all in tow. There's a huge linen sheet on both sides that has been decorated with your class, consisting of the class name, the names of the people in the class and usually some funny quote or something. (I never got to do this because of covid)

After this you go home to greet family and stuff and celebrate however you want at home.

Then it's time to go out and partyyy. Usually you've booked a table at a specific event.

How do you fund this??? Well, over the three years of school you've built up a lot of money with your class through different fundraising methods. There's a service where you can sell cookies and another where you can sell clothes and shit.

There you go, it's not everything ofc, there are other traditions, and it's also important to note that not everyone does this. Not everyone goes out to drink, not everyone gets a flak, etc etc. But if we're talking very stereotypically here, that's the gist.

It's really fun (even if I had mine with a lot of covid-restrictions), and I hope this has given a bit of context to the new season of Young Royals (and probs the last episode where the graduation will be), and why they were so pissed to be missing out. (even if there are clearly specific school traditions that aren't custom for everyone).

[ofthecaravel]

You Know How To Haunt

A 'You Don't Go To Parties' Halloween Special/ Mini Fic/ Oneshot

Summary: Before the night they confessed, Danny and Sam had a very similar evening that ended very, very differently.

Tags: Pre-confession YDGTP Sanny, ANGST, feelingssss (that aren't one sided but Danny thinks they are), saucy thoughts but nothing explicit, basically just infuriating tension

Words: 2.7k

A/N: Sooooo I missed the YDGTP boys and wanted to give a little bit more of a prequel to give y'all a feel of just how tense shit was between them. Inspired by Jennifer's Body, 'Halloween' by Noah Kahan, 'Cheerleader' by Ashnikko, and @holdingup-fallingsky's glasses Danny edit <3

~~~

It was a dark and stormy night, and Danny could not for the life of him find Sam.

It was the typical shtick with a Halloween twist; Sam proposed going to a Halloween party (of course) with costumes, tacky decorations, and “babes as far as the eye can see”. Danny complained and fought it as hard as he usually did, but Sam won for the thousandth time and Danny found himself rummaging in his closet for any semblance of a costume. After tossing on some cheap glasses frames, a velcro bow tie, and a very slim fitting button down that Danny had zero recollection of ever owning, Danny announced his costume.

“A nerd?” Sam mocked, his voice and subsequent laugh muffled from behind the bathroom door where he had holed up to put the finishing touches on his own costume. “Not straying far from reality, are we?”

“Fuck off,” Danny laughed, adjusting the cheap material of the bowtie that was already beginning to strangle him a little bit. “Come on, do I ever get to see your costume or do you just live in my bathroom now?”

“I’d live in here if it wasn’t so filthy,” Sam accused. “I mean, seriously, man, do you ever take out the trash?”

“You’re deflecting,” Danny shot back in a sing-song, banging on the door. “Open up! Michigan PD, you’re under arrest for loitering!”

“You’ll never take me alive!” Sam screeched. “Geez Louise, one second…”

After what felt like an eternity, the bathroom door swung open with a practiced grandeur and Sam strode out with his arms held high, carrying two tinsel pom poms and donning a ripped up cheerleader outfit. He had put on blush in a way that could only be described as amateur and his long, chestnut waves were pulled up in a high ponytail and fastened with a blue scrunchie. Danny played off his suddenly very dry mouth with a look of shock as Sam did a ceremonious twirl and shook a pom pom right under Danny’s nose. Danny snorted and batted it away.

“A cheerleader?” Danny asked, clearly not sold on the concept. “I guess, just, sort of…why?”

“I’ll be the talk of the town, that’s why,” Sam hummed proudly, smoothing the cheap fabricky pleats of his dizzyingly short cheer skirt. “Also, I mean, I look amazing. So that’s a big plus.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Danny murmured, pretending to look away incredulously but doing it purely because he was finding it difficult to look at Sam’s costume at all. He felt the hot flush it provoked in his face and the last thing he needed was for Sam to notice.

“Hey, that’s my shirt!” Sam scoffed, yanking on the collar of Danny’s shirt. “What gives?”

“It was in my closet.” Danny pointed out.

“Yeah, well, it’s not yours,” Sam stammered, putting his hands on his hips and making the pom poms shimmy loudly. 

“What do you care?”

“It looks ridiculous.”

“I’m not sure I’m the ridiculous one here, Miss Team Captain.”

“It’s practically popping off of you, Dan.”

“Here, is this better?”

Danny undid the first top buttons and gestured at his chest.

“Now I’m a sexy nerd,” Danny purred, rolling his eyes and turning away from Sam. He heard Sam make a funny little noise he couldn’t quite identify before letting out an exasperated sigh that he knew all too well. 

“Whatever,” Sam muttered. 

“Get in the car, Stacy, the cheer squad needs you,” Danny joked, grabbing his keys off the wall and tossing a convincing smile back at Sam, already dreading the night that lay before them.

~~

To Danny’s disgust, Sam had been thoroughly right about his costume being a hit. People couldn’t keep their hands off of him; smoothing their palms over the felt number 1 on his chest and lacing their fingers with his to shake the pom poms and asking him over and over again to twirl. Sam, as he always did, gathered his crowd right within eyeshot of Danny, who sat in annoyance on the couch with a full Solo cup. Granted, Danny had corralled a few friends of his own to talk to, but he couldn’t help but sneak glances over at Sam every other minute. With each sip of his drink, Danny warmed up to the truth about why he was so pissed off at all the attention Sam was getting: Sam wanted the attention, but Danny wanted to be the only one to give it. And more glaringly, Danny wanted to be the only opinion that Sam actually cared about. There were all the usual underlying feelings behind it that Danny kept at bay like he always did, but Danny wasn’t all that interested in tuning in to the mushy gushy. As the alcohol softened up his gaze and warmed his limbs, he found his eyes dragging over Sam’s long legs and the curve of his neck, allowing himself to add on to a fantasy in momentary increments. However, after his attention had been drawn into conversation, Danny looked back to find that Sam had disappeared. Without thinking, Danny got to his feet and excused himself, stumbling through the crowd to track Sam down.

--

Danny couldn’t find him. He traversed the entire lower level of the house, ducking under cobwebs and paper bats and even circling the bonfire in the backyard in hopes of catching a glimpse of Sam and his stupid, slutty costume. After making his way back inside, Danny looked at the crepe paper that had been taped from banister to banister on the stairs and knew that if Sam was anywhere, it was where he wasn’t supposed to be. Danny stepped over the makeshift caution tape and jogged up the steps, becoming increasingly convinced that he was going to walk in on Sam and some random in the throes of passion. His stomach flipped and he swallowed thickly, waving off the imagery and reminding himself that he just wanted to know that Sam was safe. That’s all. 

Danny felt pretty bad about snooping around someone’s house that he didn’t know, but he knew Sam wouldn’t, and that’s why he was so certain he would find him up there. Sure enough, Danny hesitantly opened a random door and saw Sam sitting cross legged on a bed, flipping through a thick scrapbook by the warm light of the bedside lamp. His ponytail had been abandoned and the scrunchie was now around his slim wrist, the sequins catching the light as he continued to look through the scrapbook. His upper body was swaying slightly in a seasick, wobbling way that let Danny know Sam was properly drunk, which was further confirmed when he looked up at Danny and let out a surprised gasp.

“Oh my god, hi!” Sam greeted cheerfully, dropping the scrapbook and holding his arms out to Danny. “Come here.”

“You want a hug?” Danny giggled, his annoyance already melting away. Sam tended to do that to him, despite the annoyance always coming back tenfold after some time.

“No, help me up,” Sam whined. He hooked his arms around Danny’s neck as Danny pulled him to his feet, making no motion to move away as he sank into Danny’s embrace and let out a comical sigh, nestling his face into the crook of Danny’s neck. Danny let out a low chuckle and held him lightly, his heart threatening to beat through his chest as Sam swayed in his arms. 

“Don’t fall asleep on me, Sammy,” Danny joked, his voice cracking slightly and making him cringe at his own sudden ineptitude around his friend of over 10 years. He could hardly believe how pathetic he was sometimes.

“But you’re so cozy,” Sam argued, his voice muffled and sweet against Danny’s skin. 

“Do you wanna go home?” Danny asked gently, the noise of the party oddly melting away as he tentatively smoothed a hand over Sam’s hair.

“No!” Sam suddenly cried, straightening and pushing off of Danny, only to fall back onto the bed again with a bounce. He began to giggle raucously, holding his hands over his face as hiccups began to edge their way between laughs. Danny rolled his eyes and moved to pick Sam up again, but Sam swatted at his chest and wiggled out of his grasp.

“No, no, let me rest, you goon,” Sam slurred defiantly, even drawing a knee up to kick at Danny’s chest. “Ssh, I’m sleeping. I’m honking my mimi’s.”

“You can sleep at home, Sam,” Danny argued patiently, trying again to scoop Sam up and onto his feet. “Come on, up and at em, soldier.”

“I’m not your soldier,” Sam shot back, lifting his chin proudly. “I’m a cheerleader.”

“The very best,” Danny assured him with a grin, his breath beginning to shake with nerves as Sam’s hands reached for him, red hot and wandering as he grabbed at Danny’s shoulders and biceps. 

“You’re so strong,” Sam murmured, finally allowing Danny to pull him up again, swaying on the spot as his blurry eyes blinked up at Danny. His eyes were amber and nearly animalistic in the lamplight and Danny had to look away, kneeling down to pick up the abandoned scrapbook and tucking it where he hoped it belonged.

“What are you even doing up here?” Danny asked. 

“Bored,” Sam shrugged, beginning to wander around the outskirts of the room. “There weren’t even any good costumes here tonight which is so lame. And, I mean, there’s a whole floor we’re not even using? Of course I’m going to scope it out.”

“Yeah, you’re always where you shouldn’t be,” Danny teased, a touch of bitterness lacing his words. When he looked up at Sam again he knew his tone had gone right over his head, seeing as Sam was leaned up against the wall with his eyes trained on the ceiling fan, his head bobbing slightly as he followed each rotation. Danny allowed to indulge in another moment of observation, taking note of Sam’s exposed stomach and his arms tucked coyly behind his back. He was jolted out of it by Sam meeting his eye and grinning wickedly.

“Hi,” Sam sang softly, cocking his head at Danny.

“You ready to go now?” Danny asked, now desperate to get Sam as far away from him as soon as possible. He got to his feet and approached Sam, getting ready to argue before Sam surprised him by lacing his arms around Danny’s neck again and pulling him in close.

“Do you remember,” Sam started, whispering conspiratorially. “When we were younger, and we used to play boyfriend girlfriend?”

Danny felt an electric shock go through his body at the memory. It had been a truly innocent game, simply practicing the day to day motions they thought they might have to go through when they were old enough and had girlfriends. Who better to play with than your best friend? Plus, Danny had secretly always really liked calling Sam his “girlfriend”, and doing all the fake grand gestures to ensure his happiness had come very naturally. Sam had always said he was the best at being the boyfriend, and Danny had always believed it. 

“Yeah, sure,” Danny replied in confusion, his cheeks prickling with uncomfortable warmth again. 

“You’re always playing it when we go to parties and you don’t even realize,” Sam laughed. Danny’s eyes widened subconsciously and he stammered, knitting his brow in further confusion.

“What?” Danny managed, attempting a light hearted laugh. 

“You do!” Sam crowed in amusement, stabbing an accusatory finger into the center of Danny’s chest. “You love to boyfriend me. Years of practice. You miss it, huh?”

“Wow, you’re hammered,” Danny said dismissively, shaking his head. 

“‘S’not the point,” Sam sighed, his head dropping onto Danny’s chest, his soft hair brushing against Danny’s exposed skin and sending a shockwave through Danny’s reflexes. 

“I’m taking you home, Sam, end of story,” Danny whispered in Sam’s ear, attempting to straighten his neck before Sam’s hand reached up and pulled Danny’s head back down. Sam’s lips went to Danny’s ear in a whisper of his own.

“I hate you wearing my fucking shirt,” Sam whispered, his voice shockingly sober and coherent in the blink of an eye. A cold sweat broke out over Danny’s body and he felt his breaths coming out in jagged, stilted intervals as Sam kept him anchored to him. 

“You wanna take it off me, then?” Danny ventured, his voice matching Sam’s barely audible pitch. He tried to make it a joke but his voice fell flat and serious. He could have sworn he heard Sam’s voice hitch before Sam let go of him, allowing Danny to step back and boggle at Sam’s bizarre behavior. Sam had such an odd glint in his eye, assessing Danny with his lip tucked between his teeth as he continued to struggle to stay standing. For a moment, Danny considered what he would do if he was less restrained than he had learned to be around Sam. There was a massive part of him that was aching and begging for him to pin Sam against the wall and tear away at that infuriating little skirt, holding him down by the warmth of his waist and shutting him up with his teeth and tongue. But he knew he couldn’t, so he stood with a scowl on his face and challenged Sam again.

“What?” Danny snapped, his frustration growing as Sam continued to refuse to leave. That’s all Danny wanted right now, but Sam never, ever gave him what he wanted. 

“I…” Sam trailed off and didn’t pick it back up, simply staring a hole through Danny’s head. Danny could practically hear the gears turning in Sam’s brilliant brain, but all that followed was silence. It was the loudest silence Danny had ever heard, and he wondered with a jolt if there was something Sam wanted to say that was akin to what Danny had been screaming into pillows and scrawling in journals for years now. Without a word, Danny pleaded with Sam to just say it so he could stop slowly crushing himself under the weight of whatever it was between them that neither of them wanted to touch. But he knew he wouldn’t, and Sam didn’t, and Danny let out a sigh that threatened to bring tears with it. He walked to the door and opened it, motioning with a nod of his head.

“We’re going,” Danny said firmly, taking off the stupid glasses frames and ripping off the bowtie with an extension of his pinkie, crumpling them into a ball in his hand and tucking them into his pocket.

“But-”

“I don’t want to play anymore, Sam,” Danny snapped, unable to even look at Sam when he said it. “I’m not your fucking boyfriend, which you’ve made very clear, by the way, so I’m not going to force you to do anything. But if you want a ride home and you don’t want to wake up choking on your own vomit in some random person’s studio apartment, the time is now.”

There was a beat of silence, and when Danny turned to look at Sam, he felt a stab of guilt when Sam gawked at him like he’d been slapped across the face. Sam let out a wordless scoff and pushed his way past Danny, turning to glare up at him.

“I can take care of myself,” Sam hissed, his words still blurry and drunk around the edges. “I don’t need you.”

“You won’t be thinking that tomorrow morning,” Danny countered fiercely. Sam rolled his eyes and began to descend the stairs, his sneakers slamming into each step as he ran away from Danny. Danny, as always, ran after him with a growing sickness in his chest. Sam stopped before he reached the front door, looking back at Danny one more time.

Danny knew he had to say it now. He wanted to. 

He wanted to beg Sam to calm down and to beg for his forgiveness, worshipping on his knees for his grace like he’d been doing for what felt like his entire life. 

But he didn’t. 

So out the door Sam went, slamming it and leaving Danny alone.

Again.

~~~ 

[pacifymebby]

Sam Fender / Christmas Morning

🐇 first things first I reckon Sam's taste in Christmas decorations is like classic kitchy British Christmas, you know we're talking tinsel, multi coloured lights, those stupid Santa teddies where if you squeeze their hand they start playing a Christmas song? Santa with an electric guitar or a saxophone and when you squeeze him it plays Santa Clause Is Coming to Town the way Springsteen does or something... Stuff that's fundamentally fucking awful but definitely okay and good at Christmas!

🐇 He'd spend a lot of December busy with work but he'd be looking forward to the relief of coming home and spending some down time with his family and friends, and of course you... You'd be all he was thinking about on his way up the motorway to Shields.. well you and the brew he's dying for anyway

🐇Gettin a take away on the night he comes home, eating it on the sofa watching home alone together, you know like this song vibes, low-key back to normality vibes.

🐇Drinking mulled wine whilst you finish last minute Christmas prep and he writes a couple of Christmas cards for people. Him low-key marvelling at how you've managed to organise everything and get the best gifts for people.

🐇 Christmas Eve down the pub with all your mates, you're definitely both working your way towards a Christmas day hangover! You know you should slow down but neither of you want to because it's the first time you've been out together in months and you're making the most of it...

🐇walking home drunk together nosying at peoples Christmas lights and rating each one out of ten. Laughing at some of the horrific blow up Santa's and snowmen in people's gardens, or the broken ho ho ho lights which now look like they're simply calling passers by an explicit name...

🐇your walk home takes ten times longer than it should because you're drunk and cosy feeling and you keep stopping for a snog and an "missed you so fuckin much"

🐇him being a fucking idiot and insisting that you leave a carrot out for Rudolph, realising that there are no carrots in the house so leaving Rudolph a thimble of whiskey instead...

🐇drunkenly scooping you up and carrying you up to bed, dropping you down kind of clumsily on the mattress, crawling above you with a proper cheeky grin on his face before letting him fall onto you and squishing you so that your squealing and giggling threatens to wake the neighbours.

🐇 he's knackered but he's still like an excitable wee boy on Christmas, keeps waking you up just as you're drifting off, teasing you with stupid questions, asking you if you think you've been a good girl this year or whether you think you're on the naughty list. When you ask him what he thinks he pauses for a minute, gives you that mischievous smirk again and tells you he reckons you're both on the naughty list...

🐇waking up the next morning with slight hangovers, you're definitely feeling a little bit rough and the last thing you want to do is move... Luckily for you you don't have to, Sam's got his arms tight around you and he isn't letting go for the world...

🐇spending the first hour of Christmas morning tucked up cuddling in your bed, he perhaps gets out of bed to make you both a brew and bring your stockings up to bed... Opening presents in bed, in your jammies, behaving like kids seeing who can throw their wrapping paper furthest.

🐇I feel like Sam thinks he's shite at buying Christmas presents and always really stresses about what he's going to buy you... Always worries it won't be good enough or that you won't really like it...

🐇in the run up to Christmas he probably frets about it and phones his mam asking for help, probably gets a halfhearted affectionate earful about how he should know what to buy his own girlfriend.

🐇but the gifts he's bought you are all perfect, cosy pjs, lush bath bombs and other little luxuries, your favourite chocolates, a bottle of wine, some vinyls and a book.

🐇and if he's feeling particularly like spoiling you a necklace from Swarovski for you to wear and never take off.

🐇you're accidentally late to his mum's house for Christmas lunch and you definitely get absolutely roasted by his family for being dirty stopouts who turn up to Christmas lunch hungover...

🐇Sam reverts to bring so teenage and laidback around his family, messing around with his younger cousins, him and his brother winding one another up... And when you see him holding the newest addition to the family, falling asleep on the sofa with a wee baby in his arms after dinner, you can't help how broody it makes you feel...

🐇spending boxing day in your jammies, barely shifting from the sofa living off left over deserts and Quality Street for days.

🐇so many opportunities for cosy kisses and snuggles under a blanket on the settee.

[flbrokensoldier]

Hello! I saw that your requests were open and was wondering if I could request something cute with Hanzo where he and his s/o are dating for a small while and are just exploring affection together. S/o wants to check out the big Christmas tree in the nearest town and while they are watching it shine they shyly take his hand? Maybe saying something along the lines of "my hands are cold" 🙈 Rest is up to you! Thank you in advance <3 and happy holidays

Oh my gosh! Love this idea! I decided to make this my Christmas special post because yes <3

Hope you like it!

Hanzo Shimada x GN Reader

"What My Hands Are Cold?"

It had only been a few months roughly since Hanzo had asked you to be his and only his. You two had been friends for years up until that point. He had watched you reject many others try to ask you out, he also watched as you opened your heart to him. He saw you at your lowest and your highest and yet he still loved you and stuck around, that's when he knew for sure he had to ask you to be with him. Man was he shy about it too, he nearly muttered the confession but it didn't matter, you knew you loved him. No matter who tried to ask you and no matter how he would have asked, you could almost swear it was much more magical with him and how he went about it.

Currently, you were getting ready to go on a small walk to go see a big Christmas tree. It was something you always loved to do, it was something you did as a kid too, it was just a tradition at this point. Sadly, you were too far from home and hadn't heard of any town's hosting such an event, yet Hanzo asked the people at Overwatch to help him set this up for you. You thanked him excitedly and gave him a kiss when you found out, maybe there was tears but you wouldn't want to admit to getting emotional over a tree. It still meant a lot to you though.

As you zipped up your jacket, you spun around only to be met with a warm embrace. It was Hanzo, he was all ready and just wanted to hold you for a minute.

"Took you long enough." He muttered with a chuckle.

"You know I had to find my favorite jacket!" Your arms wrapped around him as you laughed softly to him.

"Yeah yeah, I get it. The special faux fur and the soft hood." He let go as he messed with the hood of your coat for a bit.

"It's so warm and cozy too!" You hid your face in the sleeves for a moment before you pecked his cheek.

"You ready?" He asked with a soft smile.

"Yeah! Let's go!" You marched out the door with pride and excitement filling you.

He snickered and walked with you. The walk was quiet, yet pleasant. Nothing about it was awkward, nothing about it was tense, and it wasn't harsh which was nice. It didn't matter if you were talking his ear off or just admiring his face silently, you just enjoyed being with him. Moments like this, you both could have sworn made your bond closer.

The moment you both approached the area where the tree was, excitement filled you. You looked at the beautiful tree, decorated by everyone at Overwatch, the lights were bright, but not so much that it would blind you, and the tinsel was shimmering just like a star, the ornaments were something special, some shiny, some just outright beautiful. Some of the ornaments were of the heroes at overwatch too! Just to top off the tree, there was an angel of Mercy in a beautiful dress.

Your eyes sparkled as what you initially thought was a chill for excitement, until you realized you were actually fairly cold. You stayed silent as you reached and grabbed Hanzo's hand and held it tight, still eying the tree in awe. He looked at you, confused at first.

This was the first time you held hands, 'why would it be now?' He had initially thought.

Then he decided to finally talk. "What's with the hand holding?" He didn't sound angry or anything, more confused.

"What? It's just hand holding, plus my hands were cold!" You smiled at him before looking back.

Your gaze on the tree didn't last long though, you were suddenly pulled close to Hanzo and his hand met your chin, making you look at him softly. He held you there, smirking before he leaned down. He immediately captured your lips into a kiss, a passionate one at that. It was soft and very warm, almost as if he was made of fire in this cold weather.

After a bit he pulled back, still smirking.

You were speechless. He kissed you speechless.

"What? My lips were cold."

(MERRY CHRISTMAS/HAPPY HOLIDAYS! I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE THIS! <3)

[planetpiastri]

[1] that damn timing

summary - as a kid, you were sure that you and bradley were twin flames. but then you spent years circling one another, never being single and interested at the same time. so you moved on, and so did he—literally. but mere weeks after your life falls apart and you have to move back home, he returns for the big wedding on the horizon. and maybe, just maybe, this time you'll get the timing right.

warnings - small town/hometown au, gn!reader, benjamin!reader, bartender!reader, no use of y/n, reader is nicknamed 'moonshine,' small town inaccuracies probably, carole and goose are alive because i say so, right person wrong time, language, underage drinking mention, reader works in a bar there will be booze, drug mention, takes place in a fake town in missouri so do with that what you will

word count - 2.6k

this blog is 18+, minors please don't interact

on the rocks masterlist

Senior Grad Night - 10 Years Ago

The barn was decorated with everything the Student Council could pull together. Strings of fairy lights swooped across the rafters, and swathes of tinsel hung down like strange plants. Ribbons and flags were stapled to the old wooden slats, and a huge poster reading Congrats Grads covered an entire wall.

Metal cafe tables had been gathered and placed across one side of the floor, and the other side had been cleared away to make an impromptu dance floor. Speakers were sitting high up on a stack of hay bales, playing some twangy pop song as the senior class graduates milled around the space, laughing and reminiscing.

You sat at a table with your best friend Natasha, examining the mason jar holding a small, flickering candle that sat in the middle of the table. Natasha drummed her fingers on the tin table top, her cheek propped on her hand, watching the dance floor. Glancing over your shoulder, you followed her eyes to see Jake, wrapped in the arms of the same person he’d been wrapped in the arms of for the last four years, and even before that.

“Vom,” you said without meaning to.

Natasha swatted your arm gently. “Don’t be mean. I think they’re sweet.”

“Vom,” you said again, grinning.

Natasha rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. At that moment, someone slammed into your table, their hands gripping the edges to keep it from toppling over as you and Natasha both cried out in alarm.

“Bradley!” you yelped. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry,” panted Bradley, his cheeks rosy as he fought to catch his breath. His hair was mussed, and he’d undone the first few buttons of his shirt, his tie hanging loose around his shoulders.

Natasha wrinkled her nose. “Why are you sweaty?”

“Had to run… here,” gasped Bradley, falling into the seat next to you and grasping his side. “Cops… caught us… everyone… scattered.”

“Cops?” you echoed, eyes wide. “Why would—”

“For you,” he interrupted, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a small tin flask, which he held out to you.

You took it and shared a stunned glance with Natasha. “Is this what I think it is?”

Bradley shrugged. “It’s Grad Night.”

You unscrewed the cap and took a careful sniff, wrinkling your nose. “Where’d you get this?”

“Where do you think?”

You narrowed your eyes at Bradley. “It better not be my mom.”

Bradley shrugged again, his expression hard to read.

“Penny will kill you,” Natasha told him confidently.

“Then stop talking about it and just drink it,” Bradley snapped. “I almost got arrested getting it to you, make it count.”

He met your eyes when he said it, and against your will, your heart skipped a beat. Bradley always had a way of cutting right to the center of you, seeing you in a way no one else saw you. Ever since you were kids, you were sure no one got you the way Bradley got you. But for some reason, nothing had ever come of it.

Probably because he was never single, and even when he was, you weren’t.

Timing was a son of a bitch.

“Thanks, Bradley,” you said before taking a quick pull, but immediately regretted it. You screwed your face up and fought back a cough, holding it back out to him. “Oh, nasty. That is definitely not from my mom’s stuff—she has quality. That is ripe.”

“Okay, Moonshine,” Bradley mumbled, taking back the flask with an embarrassed flush to his cheeks. “Sorry it’s not up to par.”

Natasha laughed, reaching over and subtly taking the flask. “Moonshine. Oh, man, that’s great. Get it? ‘Cause you’re such a grump? And also ‘cause you put away shine better than anybody else?”

You wrinkled your nose. “It’s not a competition.”

“Yet somehow, you always win, Moonshine,” said Bradley with a small smile.

You pushed down the butterflies at the use of the new nickname. Before you could reply, Natasha announced decisively, “That’s it. I’m gonna go dance. Either of you gonna join me?”

“Vom,” you reiterated.

“I literally just caught my breath,” said Bradley.

Sighing dramatically, Natasha stood and walked away from the table, flipping both of you off as she went. You and Bradley laughed, quietly passing the flask back and forth till it was mostly gone.

“Have you two just been sitting here all night?” Bradley asked.

You nodded. “There’s no good music playing.”

Bradley grunted in agreement, taking another sip. “That’s why a bunch of us took off. It was good until we got busted.”

“Tale as old as time,” you hummed.

Bradley snickered. He was leaning back in his chair, his legs spread in a way that only he could make endearing. He ran his hand through his hair, looking attractively disheveled. You forced yourself to look away, turning back to the dance floor. Natasha was now dancing and having a great time with Javy Machado, him spinning her in dizzying circles as she laughed.

“Hey,” said Bradley suddenly, leaning forward and making you jump. “Do you want to get some air?”

“Okay,” you said, a little nervous, and you followed him away from the table and out the big double doors of the barn. It felt like everyone was staring at the two of you leaving, even though you knew no one probably gave a single shit.

It was cool outside the barn. Kids milled around here in inconsistent little groups, some obviously passing around flasks of their own, some passing around cigarettes or joints. The sky was clear and inky blue overhead, the stars little silver pinpricks of light.

“What are you doing?” Bradley asked you abruptly.

“Huh?” Your heart pounded painfully in your throat.

“After summer,” he clarified. “Are you sticking around, or…?”

“Oh,” you said, weirdly relieved. “No, I’m going away to Colorado for school. What about you?”

“Same,” he sighed. “My folks are being, like, super encouraging about it, too, which is almost weirder than if they were upset. Is Penny upset?”

You pulled a face. “No. You know how she is. She graduated and fucked off to Europe for a month with no warning when she was my age. She probably thinks I’m being kind of a square.”

Bradley laughed, toeing at a clump of grass. “I guess that’s a fair point.”

It was quiet for a moment, and you ran your hands up and down your arms. Bradley stepped closer, almost like he didn’t realize he was doing it. You were standing chest to chest, and when you glanced up, he was already looking at you. Your breath caught in your throat as his eyes locked onto yours.

“Bradley,” you started to say

His phone buzzed in his pocket and you both jumped back like you’d been caught. He fumbled for his phone, pulling it out and blinking hard. “It’s Amy,” he said.

Right. His girlfriend.

“You should get that,” you said.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he said again, shaking himself. “Yeah, I’m gonna—step back in.” He shot you a smile. “See you around, Moonshine.”

“See you,” you said softly, and watched as he walked away. He put the phone to his ear, and when he walked into the barn, he made sure to shut the door behind him.

The Benjamin Bar - Present Day 

Your fingers hovered over your phone screen as it glowed up at you, illuminating your face in the dimly lit bar. Those two words—LAID OFF—seemed to stare at you, swarming around your head till you felt nauseous. Sucking in a deep breath, you closed out of the email for the billionth time and slid your phone back into your pocket. You picked up a rag and began to wipe down the counter again, even though it was just as clean as it was five minutes ago.

Classic country music oozed from the old jukebox in the corner. The neon lights over the bar buzzed faintly. In the corner, the mechanical bull was silent and still. The dance floor was shining and empty. Only a couple old-timer drunks were sitting farther down the bar, nursing glasses of whiskey and trying not to fall asleep.

You didn’t hate your mom’s bar; in fact, you really liked it. But it was not where you’d hoped to be spending your summer working.

Things in Colorado had been great—almost perfect. After college, you’d been offered an internship at a real estate company, and pretty much from the moment you’d walked through those doors, the rest had been history. You’d risen up through the ranks until you had your own office and one of the best salaries in the building.

Then one of the partners of the company crashed and burned and took all of its shares down with it. You lost your job, your apartment, and your boyfriend when you found out he was screwing the girl downstairs. Within two weeks, you had gone from top of the world to rock bottom. You had gone from the penthouse suite to your childhood bedroom. You had gone from Associate VP to picking up spare shifts at the bar your mother owned. You had gone from picking out engagement rings to cuddling your pillow at night.

Needless to say, things were a little rough right now.

But your mom was getting married to the love of her life in just over a month, and she and Mav had been nothing but kind and welcoming to you, and all the people you had left all those years ago only had kind things to say to you. All in all, there were much worse hometowns to fall back on than Silver Springs, Missouri.

You checked the clock on the wall even though you knew it had barely moved. You didn’t mind working the early afternoon shifts for your mom while she was doing wedding prep, but they did crawl by. It was only two in the afternoon, and you were already dreaming of getting off work and walking across the street to Blackthorn’s, the local diner.

Then the door to the bar opened, allowing a blinding strip of daylight to momentarily stun you. You blinked, and when the light died down, you thought maybe you’d passed out and started hallucinating.

“Bradley?” you said before you could stop yourself.

Because it was Bradley. It had to be. But he was tall now, and broad, and… and… cool-looking. The Bradley you’d known in school had never been cool. But now he had a cool mustache and a cool white tank top and a cool floral shirt and cool blue jeans and he was in the middle of coolly taking off his sunglasses and coolly hooking them to the front of his shirt.

Your mouth hung open in stunned silence, and he seemed to be just as surprised as you were. He stepped towards the bar and said, “Moonshine?”

That damn nickname. You’d almost forgotten about it.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” you asked, a laugh bubbling out of you. “Oh my god—oh my god, hi! It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” he chuckled, leaning his hands against the bar. “I’m back for the wedding. I came back a little early ‘cause, well, my mom asked me to. And I’ve been saving up vacation days. This trip’s overdue.” He tilted his head. “But what are you doing here? Last I saw you was on a real estate sign outside a mansion in Connecticut. What the hell are you doing in Benjamin’s?”

Your cheeks warmed. “Oh. Uh. That sign is probably gone now. Our company went under.”

Bradley’s face fell. “You’re kidding.”

You shook your head.

“Damn,” he said bitterly, and it sounded like he really meant it. He slid into a stool across from you, rapping his knuckles on the bar. “I’m sorry to hear that. Seriously. How long have you been back, then?”

You shrugged. “Couple weeks now. It’s not so bad.”

“No,” said Bradley, and you were surprised to see he was smiling at you. “It really isn’t.” 

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes scanning over your face. You fought to keep your breathing under control. God, you’d forgotten how good he looked. I mean, you’d thought he was cute in school—but now?

Your eyes flickered down to where his bicep strained against the sleeve of his open shirt before darting back up to his eyes. The outline of a smirk on his lips told you he’d caught your look—but he was looking too, dammit.

“Want a drink?” you asked.

He nodded.

You were relieved for the chance to turn around and grab a glass. You took in a breath, hoping he didn’t notice the way it shook as you exhaled.

“What’ll it be?” you asked without looking over your shoulder.

“The Moonshine special,” he answered.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you grabbed a bottle. Adding a couple ice cubes to the glass you’d set down, you poured the liquor over the ice before replacing the bottle and turning around to hand Bradley the glass.

His eyebrows quirked up when he saw it. “This is the Moonshine special? Bourbon neat on the rocks?”

“I’ve had a rough couple weeks,” you deadpanned.

Bradley barked out a laugh like he couldn’t hold it in any longer. You’d always liked that about him. “Fair enough,” he said. “Cheers.”

And he knocked back his bourbon.

When he slammed his glass back down, you said, “You know, we have shot glasses for that.”

He grinned at you, and you tried to ignore the swarm of butterflies that his smile woke up in your stomach. Ignoring your statement, he said, “So the company goes under, and then you end up back in Silver Springs. No boyfriend to stay with in Colorado?”

You felt your smile fall away, and the mischievous gleam immediately faded in Bradley’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” he started.

“It’s okay,” you said quickly, shaking yourself and taking his glass, putting it on the rinser under the counter. You cleared your throat. “No, there’s no boyfriend. Not anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

You hated the way he was staring at you. That was the worst part of getting dumped, and especially of getting cheated on. You couldn’t stand that pitying look in everyone’s eyes when they looked at you.

“What about you?” you said bracingly. “No fiance moping around back home, waiting for you to hurry up and get back? Leaving for a month must have been a tall request.”

Bradley winced. “No,” he said, “definitely no jilted fiance. I haven’t been having the most luck in the old dating department lately.”

“Cheers to that,” you sighed, pouring another two bourbons and handing him one so you could do just that. You both drank, and as the alcohol burned its way down your throat, you realized something.

For the first time you could recall, you and Bradley were both single at the same time.

A chill went down your spine.

Bradley seemed to sense that same tension, because he was suddenly unable to keep looking you in the eyes. He fidgeted, and all of a sudden stopped being cool. He was that same boy that you’d known all those years ago, and that felt like a relief.

Lifting his wrist, he squinted at his watch and said, “Oh, shit. I promised Jake I’d say hey when I got in. I better run.”

“Sure,” you said, clearing both glasses away and wiping down the counter. “Nice talking to you, Bradley.”

He drummed his hands on the bar. “You too, Moonshine. I’ll be seeing you, then.”

“Be seeing you.”

This time when Bradley walked away from you, it didn’t feel like your heart was being painfully squeezed by an angry fist. You breathed easy as his palm splayed against the door and pushed it open, stepping back out into the brilliant afternoon sunshine.

When he left, the door didn’t slam closed; instead, it hung slightly ajar. And that warm strip of sunlight on the floor of the bar had never looked so inviting.

masterlist

@harringtonbf / @spideystevie / @almightyellie / @sunlitide / @holypowell

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Secret Santa

Winter Whumperland: Day 6. Shared Holiday Meal

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, f!reader, Simpson!Reader

Summary: With everyone heading home for the holidays, the Daggers decide to throw a last-minute holiday party before they leave. And your secret Santa takes you by surprise.

Word Count: 1758

TW: Fluff

Notes: This idea started out as more of a group fic (hence the header) but slowly transformed into a Rooster fic as I wrote it.

It was a Christmas miracle that the entire Dagger Squad was somehow able to all get leave for the holidays. It was almost unheard of but no one wanted to ask any questions in case someone realized a mistake had been made. And so, tickets home to visit family had been purchased all around and everyone began to pack their bags to leave. 

Only two members of the squad were staying in town. Rooster had agreed to spend the holidays with Mav, Penny, and Amelia. It was the first time in over fifteen years he would be spending the holidays with his godfather and both men were secretly very excited about the idea. And you were staying near North Island to spend the holiday season with your father. As the Air Boss at Top Gun, it wasn’t surprising that Cyclone wasn’t able to get Christmas day off, yet he had managed to work it out so he would be able to be home early. It was more than you usually got with him so you were beyond thrilled.

And yet…. 

It was amazing how close all of you had become in the last few months. While most of you had known each other either personally or by reputation before the Dagger Mission, the bonds that formed between the members of your team were stronger than any of you had experienced in past assignments. Personally, you chalked it up to Mav’s training and focus on teamwork and support. But regardless of the reason, the Dagger Squad had become its own small family.

Which was what made the fact you were all going to be scattered across the country for the holidays so bittersweet. You were all going to be with one family but leaving another behind. Which was why everyone immediately got on board when Bob suggested a mini-Dagger Christmas the night before everyone left. 

It was decided they would hold a potluck dinner where everyone brought their favorite holiday treat. Payback organized a Secret Santa and had everyone draw names from his helmet when they were leaving training (Hangman had offered to do it, but no one trusted him not to put his name down on every slip of paper). Phoenix, Bob, and Fanboy took charge of the decorations while Coyote created the perfect holiday music playlist (yet another job everyone refused to let Hangman do). Rooster agreed to pick up the alcohol from the Hard Deck after you somehow managed to talk your dad into letting you hold the party in the rec room on base. For such little planning time, everything seemed like it came together flawlessly. 

That was until you arrived. The room looked amazing. Strings of lights, tinsel, and ornaments covered the walls while large paper snowflakes hung down from the ceiling. A table had been set up along the back wall for the food and drinks so you quickly headed back there to deposit your plate of cookies. 

But when you reached it, you stared at the items all laid out and sighed loudly. “Jake.”

Hangman crossed the room to where you were standing. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Wasn’t your job to make sure everyone was bringing something different?”

“Uh, if I remember correctly, you just said to find out what everyone was bringing and make a list.” He grinned widely. “I think everyone made excellent choices.”

You groaned as you looked back at the table which was filled with nothing but eggnog and a variety of cookies. So much for dinner.

“The eggnog on that end of the table is already spiked.” He pointed towards the six bottles to the left. Then pointing to the only small bottle on the right, he added. “That one is plain.”

Rolling your eyes, you said, “Good to know. I’ll make sure to tell Bob.”

Hangman grabbed a gingerbread man from the plate at the center of the table. With a wink, he snapped off the head between his teeth and said, “And don’t forget to try one of these. They’re an old Seresin family secret recipe.” And then he walked off to where Coyote was hooking up the speakers.

You groaned again as you scrubbed your hand over your face. It really shouldn’t have surprised you that Hangman would do this and if you had to guess, he probably even encouraged others to bring one of the two items in front of you.

“It’s okay. I just ordered a dozen pizzas and they should be here in about an hour.”

You looked up in surprise to see Rooster suddenly standing next to you. “You didn’t have to do that. That must have cost you a fortune.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I put it on Mav’s card.” Rooster said.

Laughing, you said, “Remind me to thank him later.” Poking Rooster in the chest, you added. “Great sweater by the way. Very appropriate.”

Rooster looked down at the giant chicken wearing a Santa hat that was on his chest. “Thanks. I saw it and couldn’t resist.” 

The two of you stood in silence for a minute, each munching on a cookie. But just as you finished yours and was about to excuse yourself, Rooster pulled an envelope out of his back pocket and offered it to you. “I’m not sure how we are doing this, but this is for you. I’m your secret Santa.”

“Oh!” you said in surprise. “Thank you.”

Taking the envelope, you tore it open and peered inside. Your jaw dropped as you looked back up at him. “Are these…”

Rooster smiled as he nodded. “I know you were talking about how bummed you were that the concert sold out before you could get tickets. Merry Christmas.”

Still in shock, you removed the two plastic cards and the attached lanyards. “Rooster, these aren’t just tickets. These are backstage passes. Don’t tell me you put these on Mav’s credit card too?”

“No, then it wouldn’t have been a gift from me.”

“You realize we had a $20 gift limit. This is so, so much more than that!” 

He shook his head. “Technically, I didn’t pay for them. I have a buddy from an old deployment who is working private security now, including for that concert. He owed me a favor so I just made a few calls.” He shifted slightly. “I hope that doesn’t lessen the gift.”

You threw your arms around his neck. “Are you kidding? Of course not! This is absolutely amazing. Thank you so much!”

“Oh, um, you’re welcome. I’m glad you like them.” He patted your back softly, clearly surprised by the hug. You pulled back to see his face had turned red underneath his mustache.

Releasing him and taking a step back, you said, “Man, now I just feel bad all I got Coyote was a dart board to set up in his dorm.” Looking down at your present again, you held up the passes. “Who is the second one for?”

Rooster shrugged. “Whoever you want. I figured you might have more fun if you have someone go with you.”

“Would… would you want to go? I mean, you did get them for me and pretty much everyone else I know around here will still be gone on leave. But if you don’t want to–”

“No. I’d love to go with you.”

You blinked in surprise. “Great! Um, yeah. We can figure out the details later but it’s a date!” You felt your cheeks grow hot. “I mean, not a ‘date, date’, just that we have set a date for us to do something. Together. I–I’ll stop talking now.”

“I got what you meant,” he said with a small smile.

You smiled back. Just then, Phoenix called to Rooster from the other side of the room. Glancing over, you said, “Looks like you’re needed. But thank you again. This really is the best Christmas present anyone has ever gotten me.” 

“You’re welcome. And Merry Christmas.”

Rooster started to walk away but as he passed you, you reached out and grabbed his arm. Then you placed a quick kiss on his cheek. His face grew bright red once more but he smiled brightly at you. Then you released his arm and he walked over to Phoenix.

The rest of the evening went great. Once the pizzas arrived, no one really seemed to mind the overabundance of cookies and eggnog. When Mav and Penny showed up later in the night, everyone yelled “Thanks for the pizza” as they walked in. The bewildered couple just smiled and nodded as they exchanged glances. Rooster explained later and everyone had a good laugh about it. 

Coyote loved his gift but told you not to tell Hangman about it. He wanted to practice in secret so he might finally be able to beat the other aviator. You promised and told him to let you know anytime he wanted someone to play against.

It was just before midnight when you saw your dad slip into the room. No one else seemed to have noticed Cyclone grab a drink and a few cookies before retreating to the back corner. Excusing yourself from your conversation with Bob and Phoenix, you walked over to him. 

“Hey. Glad you could make it.”

He nodded. “I was just about to leave for the night and figured I would stop by to make sure you all hadn’t destroyed the place.” 

“I would be mad you thought so poorly of us, but honestly, that doesn’t sound too unimaginable,” you laughed. Then you bumped your shoulder against his arm. “Thanks for arranging it so everyone gets to go home for Christmas. I know how much that means to all of them.”

He took a sip of his eggnog. “Yeah, well, they deserve it after what they accomplished this year.” Turning to look at you, he added, “Sorry you’re stuck here for leave. But I do appreciate you staying so we can spend the holidays together.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and gave him a big hug. “Of course! This is the first time we’ve both been stateside for Christmas in years. I wasn’t going to miss the chance to celebrate with you.”

He squeezed you back. “Thanks, kiddo. I’m just sorry that I still have to work for most of your leave. It seems like such a waste of your time off.”

You caught Rooster’s eye from across the room and he gave you a shy, but warm smile. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m sure I can find something to keep me occupied.”

Taglist:@loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @11thstreetvigilante, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @topguncortez, @footprintsinthesxnd, @airhogger, @notroosterbradshaw, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @fangirlinc, @sparrows-corner, @therebeccaw, @mads-weasley, @trencher4lyfe, @merlehs, @sunshineflowerchild789, @imjess-themess, @callsign-phoenix, @maggie8002sq, @je-suis-prest-rachel, @tellrock35, @shanimallina87, @mak-32

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Congrats on hitting 2222!! 🥳 I am in a SOFT mood and would love to know more about Palomino Jack and animals! Horsey and critter stories from his past? Fluffy or angsty stories from growing up on a farm or ranch? Did he have pets as a kid? His philosophy about our animal friends? How his gentle, tender relationship with horses developed? I wanna know MOAR about the man that will forever have a place in my heart for arranging that reveal of horseys in birthday hats and tinsel 🥰🥰🥰. Headcanon or whatever tickles your fancy! 🐎🐖🦙🐍🐇🐐🐿🦔🐤🐌🦋🐞🦜

Shirks my darling, thank you for this fun ask! You know I'll take any opportunity to talk about Palomino!Jack 😘 I'd actually left Jack's history pretty blank when I started this series, so it was really fun brainstorming and putting down in words where our cowboy came from.

I briefly mentioned how Jack learned to ride in Dapple Grey:

Jack learned to ride on his uncle’s farm. His first pony belonged to his older cousin who lost interest in the sport, so he spent years riding Sparkles, resplendent in matching pink bridle and saddle, until he outgrew her. He worked in and around the equestrian circuit until Champ offered him the job ten years ago, after meeting at a rodeo.

I will actually be getting a little bit more into Jack's family in the next chapter of Palomino. Without giving too much away, Jack grew up on his uncle's farm on his dad's side. He's the youngest of his three cousins, and he's always tagging along and wanted to do whatever they were doing.

When he was too small to learn to ride, they taught him how to groom the horses, which brushes to use, and how to tack up, even though the saddle was too heavy for him. He would run around the stables with a bag of carrots and apples, standing on tip toes to pet the horses on the nose. He sat on the fence when his cousins had their riding lessons, watching and learning from the sidelines until he turned five.

His riding instructor was Jill, a long-time friend of the family and a bit of a horse whisperer. She instilled in young Jack a deep respect and love for his four-legged friends, teaching him that he should never pull on a horse's mouth, or flap his legs and kick, nor did spurs or whips have a place in the Daniels farm.

As he grew up, he learned that he had a particular knack for handling difficult horses, not by strong arming them, but with patience and gentle hands. Throughout high school, he took on odd jobs at stables around the area, paying his dues, saving up because he knows he wants to get out of the small town he grew up in.

After he graduated high school, he drove off in his beat-up truck and went where the wind took him. He worked on a cattle ranch in Alberta, Canada, then a stud farm in Georgia, then he joined the rodeo circuit, working as a groom while studying for an equine veterinary diploma.

It was on the rodeo circuit where he first met his wife, and then Champ, who poached him for the Statesman Ranch ten years before Palomino begins. And as they say, the rest is history.

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover