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i'm tired
#justaart#justavent#justaventart#art#ventart#vent#there is no snow#it doesnt feel cold#everything is wrong and bad and i am in pain in pretty much every checkbox possible#im so sad that today feels no different#im so sad about life at large#there is so very little good in my brain and around and in the world and im so burned out man#im so tired#i want things to be better and i dont know if better exists#i just need to sleep but nothing will change when i wake up#please for the love of some gods let things get better in a way for people#i can tread water just#pelase for the love of something good give some kind of light for or wretched fucking future#it's christmas and it feels like nothing#and all i can think of is the christmases of my childhood#that doesnt exist any more and that has disheartened me so violently that i dont want to be a person any more#i just miss snow man#i miss trees (even fake ones)#i miss people#im tired and there is a cat and a neos and im gonna try to curl up with them
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this christmas – op81
ski slopes, mistletoes, and the guy you've been crushing on for years – what could be better?
genre: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers!au, smut (just one scene in the end, you can skip it if you want)
pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri
other characters: lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell & mundt, alex albon & lily muni he, pierre gasly & kika cerqueira gomes
warnings: mentions of alcohol, smut, not much more i think
word count: 13.8k (LMAO)
requested?: yes!!
author’s note: hello hello!! a lot to say about this one. first of all, thank you to @be-your-coffee-pot for this request, and i apologize for not getting to it earlier than now. for everyone’s knowledge, the request was sent in to me in august, so… yeah. i know it’s not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway <3
second of all, i feel pretty happy about some of these scenes, but some… not so much. some of the fillers have parts that i really despite, but i don’t really have time to rewrite since christmas is like 2 days away lol. also, my description of the reader’s relationship to charles is not my best work, idk why he barely even appears, and i’m also not sure why logan isn’t in this...
third of all, my red divider things make my posts disappear from the tags, so i didn’t put any in this time. it looks bad, i know, but idk how to fix it. if anyone does, please let me know. :)
and lastly: i only proofread this whole thing once yesterday, but tumblr was being a bitch and i got so frustrated that i do not have the energy to proofread it again. so please, if you happen to find any spelling or grammar mistakes, i would be very thankful if you let me know. <3
hope you all enjoy !!
december 12th, 2:11pm
oscar has always loved winter.
it started in his childhood; the holiday films he'd seen as a child, the way it always seemed to magically snow right on christmas eve really started something in him. it hadn't been common for him to get snow back home in australia when he was younger but once he moved to the england, he got to experience it quite a lot. playing, fighting and just existing in the snow was like an unfilled childhood need that stayed with him until his older years.
he loved spending christmas at home with his family, but ever since he got to experience real christmases with snow, trees and cozy darkness, he craved it more than he craved lying on the beach in his swimming trunks.
so when he was asked to come along to the swiss alps for a vacation during the winter break, he packed his bags right away. he and lando just happened to book the same flight, and they both arrived at the airport around noon, getting into a cab to take them to the accommodation together.
when they arrive outside the cottage, oscar is in shock; it is enormous. he had imagined just a tiny, cute little house – not that he was sure how seven drivers and a couple of girlfriends would fit in a "tiny" house – but he was far from right.
him and lando are the second pair to arrive, just about an hour after alex and lily, who are the self-proclaimed 'hosts' as they took care of all of the booking and planning.
"we thought that one would be lando's room," alex starts, pointing down the hallway. "since it's far away from everyone else, and i'm sure we all would prefer to actually get some sleep during the night time."
"oh, shut it..." lando mumbles, shoving his friend on his shoulder.
"this one can be yours, oscar," lily says, moving in the opposite direction and gesturing to another room. then, she points at the one right next to it. "and this one has two beds, so it's for charles and his sister."
oscar's ears perk up. "y/n is going to be here?" he speaks almost took quickly, making the other three turn to look at him.
"oh, i thought you knew..." lily has an apologetic look on her face.
"i must've forgotten," oscar answers, though he's completely sure no one told him about it. there's no way he would forget you. "don't worry, it's cool."
the hosts continue to move down the hallway, and the mclaren boys are just about to follow along when lando elbows oscar's side playfully. "it's cool?"
oscar raises an eyebrow, trying to keep calm. "what?"
"the youngest leclerc coming along?" a grin takes up lando's entire face. "it's just cool? is she cool, or-"
"goodbye, lando." oscar shakes his head, darting towards alex and lily again. he takes a few deep breaths, hoping the blush he can feel spreading across his cheeks isn't too obvious.
unfortunately, lando didn't need to see the blush to know. he has caught his teammate staring at you too many times over the season, and he is fully aware of the way oscar always is suddenly interested in the conversation whenever you're the topic of discussion.
lando knows everything. and this christmas, he's going to be the best wingman the world has ever seen.
december 13th, 12:53am
it's past midnight when you and charles arrive. your flight had been delayed, and then the gps had stopped working all of a sudden. and then, charles just refused to drive any faster than 30 km/h, saying it was too dangerous. as if he didn't drive cars in ten times that speed without even flinching.
you assume the whole house is sleeping already, so you and charles both sneak in as quietly as you can. someone – lily, assumably – has left you a note on the front door, guiding you to your shared room. it all goes smoothly – until charles trips over the doorframe, dropping his bag onto the floor as he tries not to fall down. the sound rattles through the hallway and you flinch, stopping in your tracks as you hope no one's woken up. but just a second later, the door opposite yours opens and a head sticks out.
oscar.
your heart softens and your shoulders relax when your gaze meets his. your soft smile is mirrored on his face, the sleepiness evident in his droopy eyes and the way strands of his bedhead point in every direction.
he looks like he's just about to say something when charles speaks up. "sorry, man! were you asleep?"
he walks up to the australian, giving him a firm handshake and a pat on the back. oscar shakes his head. "i was up reading," his huskey accent is like music to your ears. "i thought i heard some rustling out here, and then..." he nods his head toward the suitcase on the floor.
your brother laughs as he steps back, walking into the room with the "leclerc" sign. "well, i'll let you get back to that then," he says, picking up the bag from the floor and looking back one last time. "good night."
and then, you were just two.
you and oscar stand still for a moment, just watching each other. then, he opens up his arms, welcoming you into his embrace. you step forward and drape your arms around his shoulders as his wrap around your waist, and you let out a content sigh. he's warm, comfortable, and the way he squeezes your body has your mind spinning.
"it's been a while," he says when you part from the hug, a soft grin playing on his lips.
"like a month," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest.
"a month has never felt this long before."
you're not sure when your crush on him started forming.
as someone who's always been interested in racing, even in the series your brother isn't in, you've kept up with most results and championships – including oscar's seasons in f2 and f3. after seeing oscar, the unstoppable rookie who completely crushed his season in f3, you made sure to keep an eye at him in f2 the following year. and it's easy to say that you liked what you saw. especially in jeddah.
you'd meet him occasionally around the paddock the following year, just giving him a sweet smile and a quick greeting as if it was no big deal. but you always found yourself squealing on the inside and taking deep breaths to stay calm whenever you made eye contact with him.
then came 2023 and his debut in f1. yet again, he exceeded everyone's expectations, performing better than most drivers who'd been on the grid for years. with his permanent role on the grid, he was around more – and so were you. it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to bump into each other, around the paddock or during media days or in afterparties, and now you tried not to shy away.
talking to oscar was always simple. he was easygoing, it all seemed effortless, and you felt more relaxed. before you knew it, you could chat about racing strategies and tyre management for twenty minutes before a member of the mclaren staff interrupted you, rushing oscar away somewhere. you got to know each other slowly throughout the season, though never really going further than some friendly conversations, but you felt happy knowing that you'd taken the first step towards getting closer to him.
"so..." he starts. "you've been good?"
you nod. "yeah, a lot of studying but it's been alright. you?"
"yeah."
and there it is again, that slightly awkward silence. it's natural, you haven't seen each other since that night in abu dhabi and you're both a little unsure of where you stand after it. the tension is so thick that you could cut through it with a knife, and you kind of want to escape the whole situation. but then he speaks up.
"hey, i just wanted to-"
he's interrupted by the call of your name, and when you turn around, charles is leaning against the doorframe, eyes hazy. "are you going to sleep tonight or what?" he asks, dragging a hand through his already messy hair.
you feel a weight lift off your shoulders – and at the same time, your stomach tightens in disappointment. you nod at your brother, looking back at oscar to give him a wave and a "sleep well", before joining charles in your shared room.
oscar stands still in the corridor for a moment, before sighing and slapping himself in his mind for being so awkward and messing up this opportunity. but on the other side of the door, you stand still too as you watch your brother jump onto his bed, taking a deep breath to clear your mind.
you're just thankful the room is so dark that he can't see your ever-reddening cheeks.
december 13th, 10:24am
despite the never-ending pitter-patter of your heart as you went to bed last night, you could fall asleep quite quickly, seeing as you were utterly exhausted from traveling. breakfast this morning feels like you and charles have just been reunited with your childhood friends after being kidnapped for years; not like you had just gone a few weeks without seeing each other. everyone runs around hugging, chatting about how much they've missed each other and how great this trip will be.
"did you get new highlights?" kika asks you, sliding into the seat next to you by the long table as you stuff a piece of bread into your mouth. the room is a combination of a kitchen and a dining hall, with a big cooking area and a glass wall giving the dining area a beautiful view of the mountains outside. in the middle stands a long table with enough seats for all of you, filled with fresh pastries and other breakfast goods to celebrate the first day of the trip. "or is it just the light?"
"just the light," you answer, shooting her a smile as you pick up your cup of coffee.
"oh my god, i almost forgot to ask you," lily starts and places her elbows on the table, her face resting in her hands. "what happened to that guy from raya you were talking to? did you end up going out?"
oscar is sitting a few seats down the table, pretending to be immersed in a conversation with some of the other drivers about the last few races of the season, while actually just doing his best to listen in on the conversation you're having. when he hears alex's girlfriend mention raya, his ears perk up and his breath gets caught in his throat. a million thoughts instantly crash into his mind.
she's seeing someone? how could i not know this? she's on raya? is she actively looking for a partner? who is this guy they're talking about?
he coughs and tries to act normal, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling passing through his body. he soon hears the sweet sound of your wholehearted laughter, and he almost smiles instinctively at it, before he can remind himself that lando's story about las vegas isn't exactly a smiley matter. "you're not going to believe this, i have the best story," you say in-between fits of giggles. "i met up with him for some drinks, and guess what he said? that he has a foot fetish and has dreamed about me caressing his face with my feet." all of the girls squeal and explode with laughter, making some of the boys flinch and look over to see what all the commotion is about. "so, safe to say, we never met up again. and i haven't wanted to go out with anyone else from there, either. i have a feeling they're all just creeps."
"hey, don't lose hope!" kika says while elbowing your side, but her actions are too soft, forcing you to fold over as an uncomfortable feeling spreads through your body. however, a burst of laughter spills past your lips. kika immediately holds her arm back, laughing along. "crap, i'm sorry! i totally forgot how ticklish you are."
you shake your head, your hand landing on her shoulder. "no worries," you tell her. "but, i haven't lost hope. i just don't think my soulmate is lurking around on raya with the foot fetishists."
oscar feels his shoulders relax again, feeling alright with focusing back on the boys' conversation now that he knows you in fact aren't seeing anyone.
maybe he has a shot, after all. as long as he doesn't talk too much about your feet.
december 14th, 3:09pm
lando thinks he's so smart.
when he tells oscar to go ask if you'd like to have some of the gingerbread cookies he's bought, it's the third time today he has forced some kind of interaction between the two of you. he is sure that the more time that the two of you spend with each other, the more likely you will be to stop pining and just confess already.
but this time, oscar glares at the brit. "why don't you ask her yourself?"
"because you know what room she's in," lando hums back, reaching into the cupboard with some groceries. "i keep getting lost, the house is too big. plus, i'm busy." he motions to the half-empty grocery bag on the counter.
oscar lets out a sigh, but nods. "how can you memorize all tracks on the calendar, but you get lost in a cabin?" he asks rhetorically, whilst turning around and making his way down the hallway towards your room.
it's not that oscar doesn't enjoy 'accidentally' being forced into talking to you; it's the extreme lack of discretion lando is showing that makes him annoyed. it makes oscar seem like he's the one coming up with silly excuses to talk to you, and he doesn't like how it makes him look. he'd rather be seen as chill, laidback, someone who doesn't force things. he doesn't want you to catch on too early and reject him.
your voice echoes a 'come in' when he knocks on the door to your bedroom, and he pushes the door open just a little to reveal you sitting on the bed, a thick blanket wrapped over your shoulders. a grin spreads across your lips when you make eye contact with him. "hi," you say, placing the book you were reading on the bedside table.
"hey," he answers, stepping inside the room. "i... lando bought some gingerbread cookies, and we were going to make some hot chocolate, and..." his voice trails off as his eyes wander down your body, taking in the christmas sweater you're wearing and the fuzzy socks covering your feet. he smiles absentmindedly at the sight, loving how cozy you seem, and wishing he was sitting right there with you, sharing the blanket.
you nod, understanding him despite his lack of words. "i'll be right there."
oscar gives you a thumbs up – one he then facepalms himself for when he's left your room – before moving towards the kitchen again. but when he walks into it, he sees something hanging from a lamp. he stops in his tracks. "no way..."
festive cookies aren't the only thing lando bought when he went to the local supermarket. he also got the ultimate tool for securing his master plan – a mistletoe.
he doesn't know how, but he's planning to make sure you and oscar meet underneath it at least once before the holidays are over. there's no way you'll both be able to avoid it all week.
of course, lando isn't the only one rooting for the two of you. most of the other drivers know too – how can they not notice the glances you share and the way you light up when someone mentions the other in a conversation? – and most of them are in on his plans. charles is probably the only one in the house who's still oblivious to your and oscar's pining, and lando thinks that he might interfere with the matchmaking if he figures something out, so the brit keeps quiet.
oscar wants to pull the mistletoe down, rip it apart and throw it in the trash, but he refrains. something inside him tells him this might actually work out in his favor – and he decides to trust his gut this time.
december 15th, 2:01am
sleeping can be tricky, especially when your brother is snoring loudly in a bed just a few meters away from you.
who even decided to put him and you in the same room?
when you've been tossing and turning to no avail for about an hour, you decide it's time to do something, anything, to hopefully get a little tired again. a glass of warm milk never hurt anyone, did it?
you make your way to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of milk and put it in the microwave, before turning to look through the windows.
the view of the mountains is breathtaking. there is an untouched, thick layer of snow covering the area, with new flakes still falling. the sun set long ago, but the snow makes it all seem light. the lake below you is just barely visible by now, almost completely coated in snow.
it's completely serene, and you find yourself getting lost in the scenery. however, you're shaken out of your trance when you hear steps behind you. when you turn around, your eyes find someone standing just a few meters away, barely visible in the dark.
you jump in your place and clutch your chest in shock, not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. when the person steps into the light of the little kitchen lap you had turned on, you relax instantly. "holy shit, oscar," you breathe. "you nearly scared me to death."
"i'm sorry," the australian chuckles. "i didn't know how to approach you without scaring you..."
"what even are you doing up?" you question, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter.
"i was just reading in my bed when i heard your door opening, and then footsteps, so..." he trails off when his eyes wander out towards the living room, seemingly just as taken by the sight as you were just moments ago. "i wanted to make sure everything was okay."
"well, everything is okay, so..."
there's some kind of awkwardness hanging in the air. it's not only because of the obvious uncertainty of what to say or do in this situation; it has more to do with the fact that this isn't the first time that the two of you have found yourselves this close with this much tension, all alone at night. sure, it's a lot like the night of your arrival here, but another memory springs to your mind, too.
just under a month ago, following the after-party in abu dhabi, oscar had accompanied you back to the hotel when you started getting too tipsy to keep yourself up on the dance floor. your brother had been nowhere in sight, so oscar took it upon himself to help you out, draping an arm across your waist before walking you all the way to your hotel room. and when you'd arrived in the dimly lit corridor, you'd turned up towards him to thank him, accidentally brushing your nose against his as you did. both of you had broken out in giggles, neither especially sober, but you stayed close – and when the laughter settled, you just watched each other. when his gaze had flickered between your eyes and lips, your breath hitched in your throat, the anticipation growing stronger. you had leaned in even closer, your eyes fluttering closed-
but just as your lips were about to brush his, you had been interrupted. a door a few meters away had opened and the two of you jumped apart, watching as your brother stepped out and exclaimed that he had been wondering where you ended up. oscar had wished you both a good night before hurrying off, the embarrassment of almost getting caught by his friend being too much for him to handle.
you just hoped oscar had been too drunk to remember it, because otherwise, things were bound to get quite awkward. you didn't want him to act differently around you just because you have feelings for him.
thankfully, he hasn't said or done anything to make you think he does remember it.
as you're thinking back to that night in abu dhabi, you nearly get your second heart attack when the microwave goes off with a loud beep. you scramble to turn it off and take out your milk, almost burning yourself on the hot glass in the meantime.
oscar watches you with an amused grin before he forces his gaze off you, eyes wandering over to the windows again. "quite the view, huh?"
you look over your shoulder at the blanketed mountains. "yeah, it's breathtaking," you reply, before growing quiet.
he pauses for a moment, too. "there's something magical about this place. makes everything seem simpler, quieter..."
you nod. "yeah, it does."
something about the moment makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, the awkwardness between you and oscar isn't as insurmountable as you once thought it would be. the shared quietude is comfortable, and you feel at ease. he hasn't brought up abu dhabi – he probably won't, you feel – and maybe you could both just put it behind you and focus on enjoying your trip.
when you eventually get back in your bed, it's with the same kind of pitter-patter of your heart as when you and charles arrived in the cabin a few days ago. needless to say, the glass of warm milk probably isn't going to help.
december 16th, 9:02pm
the mistletoe has moved.
when you first noticed it the other day, it was hanging from a kitchen lamp. and now, it's in the doorframe leading into the living room.
you're planning on avoiding it at all costs, not wanting to slip up and accidentally get under it with the wrong person. or the right one, for that matter. the awkwardness of kissing your crush in front of friends and family would be too much to handle.
some others seem to have the exact opposite attitude towards the decoration, though. kika and pierre can be found by it about ten times per day, and alex and lily have no issues sharing a few kisses whenever they "accidentally" pass it.
no matter what, lando has a mischievous grin whenever anyone mentions it, or even walks near it.
his grin stays on when he decides to let himself be in charge of the outing you all have to the christmas tree farm nearby. the farm is too big and would take too long if everyone was going to look at every tree, so lando divides everyone into groups of two based on who they're standing next to as you walk past the gates.
what a coincidence that you're standing right next to oscar when he says this.
lando ushers the two of you off to the rows with quite tall, pre-decorated trees. "so," oscar starts as you both stop in front of a tree with white lights and ornaments hung all over it. "what do you think about this one?"
"well, it's lovely," you say, scanning it thoroughly. "but isn't the true test how well it fits into the living room?"
he nods, despite his confusion, and he shoots a curious glance your way. "and how do we determine that?"
with a playful grin, you hold up an imaginary measuring tape, pretending to size up the tree with a critical eye. "i'm trying to figure out if it fits this corner best, or..."
he follows your gaze, realizing the tease in your words. "i think maybe it's better in the other corner," he hums and points to the side as you turn a little.
"exactly."
lando never inserted himself into a group; he's too focused on watching the two of you share a lighthearted laugh at the situation. though his mistletoe back in the cabin might still have a trick or two up its metaphorical sleeve, he is already proud of his matchmaking antics.
and, he is sure you'll both crack. it is just a matter of time.
december 17th, 1:43pm
"i never thought skiing would be this hard," you groan as you step into a cottage, the warmth enveloping you and beginning to defrost you instantly.
oscar laughs at the exasperated tone in your voice. "this was just the kids' slope, you do remember that, right?" you stick your tongue out at him, slumping down on a bench by a table. "you just wait before you do some real skiing..."
you had never skied before today. oscar had, but he said it was too long ago and that he needed an easy start. plus, he couldn't just leave you all alone in the children's slope without an instructor.
you'd fallen over at least five times, despite the fact that the slope was practically flat. thankfully, oscar promised to buy you some hot chocolate in a cottage café to cheer you up.
when he comes back from the cashier carrying two big, steaming cups of chocolate, you've regained most of the feeling in your fingers again. the hot piece of ceramic almost burns your skin, but you think it's worth it; you need the sugar and you need it now.
"you know what the worst thing is?" you ask, bringing the cup up to your face with both hands. you start sipping on the drink and oscar glances at you with a questioning look as he slips down next to you on the bench. "carrying those goddamn skis with me. not only does it suck to actually ski, but dragging them all the way from the rental shop…"
"if it's that much of a bother, i can carry them for you."
"and carry your own too?" you scoff, watching him flinch as he burns his tongue on the drink. "you're not that strong."
he lets out a groan. "you're not even strong enough to carry your own, so you shouldn't say anything."
"i can carry them!" you protest, shooting him a glare. "i just don't want to. two very different things."
you both go silent momentarily, too busy focusing on how good it feels to no longer be frozen to the marrow. the cabin is filled with people; kids running in circles around the tables, soon to be tired again after the initial sugar shock from their afternoon snack; a group of older ladies gossiping and enjoying getting some rest just like you; and some young adults in the far corner are already busy dancing on the tables with their after-ski drinks in their hands.
"you know what? i changed my mind," you tell him, scooting away from him a little and placing your skiing boot on the bench. "these things. they're the worst."
you start to unclasp the boot, sighing in relief as you finally tug the shoe off your foot, throwing it onto the floor. you've only worn it for about an hour, but you can already feel the bruises beginning to form. you're just about to reach down to undo the other boot, too, when oscar reaches towards your foot.
your eyebrows shoot up as he takes it in his hands, pulling the foot into his lap. and then, his fingers begin to wander up and down your foot and ankle, giving you soft squeezes and pressing down on the spaces where he thinks the boot has squeezed you the most. you hold back a pleasured sound, seeing as it would sound way too inappropriate right now, but oscar subconsciously takes note of how you're getting flushed because he soon looks up at your face.
"is this okay?"
you swallow down the lump in your throat, nodding quickly. "y-yeah… just don't tickle me..."
when did things get so intimate? mere minutes ago, you couldn't think about anything other than how you were so cold your nose was going to fall off. but now, you can't stop your eyes from following his long, sleek fingers, thinking about how good they feel and imagining how good they would feel somewhere else-
"give me your other foot."
you're thankful that he interrupts your train of thought before your mind wanders too far.
compose yourself, woman.
"don't tell me you have a foot fetish, too," you tease, turning around so that you can place your other foot on the bench too. he lets out a hearty laugh, swiftly undoing your other boot before letting it drop to the ground.
"oh, shut it. do you want a massage or not?"
you shoot him pout, giving his shoulder a thankful pat before taking your cup in your hands again. you focus on the drink, watching how the steam rises and the marshmallows melt. you can't look over at him anymore, scared of your cheeks growing too red and your face giving away your feelings.
the bell by the door rings behind you, and you look towards it out of habit. and in comes alex, george, lily and carmen, laughing and chatting loudly about the black slope they just went down. oscar doesn't seem to notice, but you hastily pull your feet from his lap, sitting down properly – unfortunately making eye contact with alex as you do. he leans forward to lily, whispering something in her ear, and you watch as her eyes dart to you and a smirk grows on her lips.
shit.
the clicking of her boots against the stone floor meets your ears and oscar turns his head at the sound, suddenly realizing why you withdrew from him. "hey there," lily cheers, each of her hands landing your and oscar's shoulders. "what have you been up to?"
your eyes meet his briefly, before looking back up at lily. "just... drinking some chocolate..."
"oh, no skiing?"
"she crashed too much, i couldn't keep her out there and let her continue to embarrass me all day," oscar tells her and you shove his shoulder.
"do you mind if we join you guys?" george asks, coming around the table and not even giving you a second to think about it before he sets two cups of chocolate down on the table. the grin he's wearing only tells you one thing: alex told him already. carmen's lips show off a matching set.
"not at all..."
december 18th, 10:32am
you huff as you slump down on the living room couch, your mood not even getting brought up by watching the newly installed christmas tree in front of you. you hadn't even been out skiing that much yesterday, yet every single inch of your body aches. not only do you have big, blue bruises on both of your hips due to the many times you've fallen onto the hardly packed snow, but every muscle screams with pain as you drape a blanket over your body. needless to say, you decided to stay at home today instead of heading out with the others for another round.
"are you sure you don't wanna come along?" kika asks as she enters the room, her pretty pink sunglasses perched at the top of her nose. the pout on her lips almost makes you doubt staying in, but when you move to sit up more straight again, you know you've made the right decision.
you nod, giving her a weak smile. "yeah, sorry."
"but oscar promised to come along?"
you freeze, your cheeks growing red as you hear her words.
did she know? about your feelings for him? did the others already tell her about the incident in the cottage yesterday? did they really interpret the situation that way?
"w-what?"
"oh," she chuckles at your reaction. "i just meant that he was so bad yesterday, so i thought that seeing him fall over a couple of times would be worth the pain."
"we're gonna trick him into going down a black slope with us," says pierre who walks into the room, arms lacing around his girlfriend from behind. "we'll send some clips."
you let out a breath of relief as they leave the room. maybe they don't know. maybe your secret will stay secret for a little longer.
the group leaves in pairs or trios and you tell them all goodbye from your place underneath the many blankets. everyone has left by now except for oscar, which confounds you since the others seemed to have so many plans for him. your confusion only grows when he steps into the living room without any skiing gear on, just wearing an oversized, cozy hoodie and a pair of sweats.
"why aren't you out with the others?" you question, your eyebrows raised at him.
"well," he sighs, flopping down next to you on the couch. "i can't find my helmet." when you shoot him a doubting look, he raises his hands defensively. "what?"
"i don't believe it."
"you don't have to, but it's the truth."
"how do you even lose a helmet? it's so big?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "i assumed you were used to keeping track of where your helmet is since if you don't have your helmet with you for races, then you can't race."
"i swear i put it on the drawer by the front door like half an hour ago. i don't understand what could've happened."
you have to give it to him; he is really doing his best to cover this up. you find it pretty obvious that he just doesn't want to ski because of what the others were planning to do to him. but maybe if kika and pierre hadn't spilled their plans already, you would've believed him.
"but hey," he says, bringing you out of your thoughts. "don't feel obligated to include me in whatever you were going to do here now that you finally have the house to yourself." he pushes himself off the couch, standing up and shooting you one last smile before turning to walk away. "i'll let you have some peace."
he takes a couple of steps towards the bedrooms, but then you get the idea. "oscar." he stops in his tracks, throwing a glance back at you. "i was planning on doing some baking, and…" you shuffle slightly in your seat. "it wouldn't hurt to have an extra helping hand."
"i'm a horrible baker, though."
"and i'm the best baker ever, so i guess we cancel each other out." you stand up from your seat, keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you make your way toward the kitchen. "let's go make some mediocre cookies!"
oscar shakes his head, grinning to himself as he follows behind you. this was definitely not what he had planned, but he sure is liking the way it's going.
december 18th, 8:14pm
oscar had not been kidding when he said he sucked at baking.
he put in twice the needed amount of flour, and only half of the sugar. and as if that wasn't enough, of course the mistletoe had moved to the kitchen, making the whole situation quite uncomfortable as you both had to take strange routes while navigating through the kitchen to avoid it. not even your baking skills could save the cookies.
as an apology, oscar promised to buy some fancy gingerbread cookies tonight at the christmas market you'd all planned to go to in a nearby city. he was strongly set on going through with his promise, despite how many times you told him that it was alright and that they wouldn't taste as good as homemade ones anyway.
you've all been at the market for almost two hours now, but it feels like you've only gone about ten meters. your friends, mainly lando, george and alex, are stopping at every single shop and stand, making sure to check out all products and buying at least one thing in every store, no matter how long the line to the cash register is.
"lando-" you groan at the sight of the brit running into yet another store; this time, a shop filled with christmassy outfits for dogs. "he doesn't even have a pet…"
kika is grinning next to you, shaking her head. "he told me earlier today that he wanted to buy a present for roscoe if he got the chance," she says as most of the group joins lando. "makes more sense than when he bought that screwdriver thirty minutes ago just because it was green."
"the power of 'christmas colors', apparently," you hear oscar's voice from behind you, and you turn back to meet his eyes.
"well, i'm not surprised. just disappointed. and cold, and tired of standing still."
oscar points his head to the side, up the street. "i think i saw a stand a little further up that sells cookies, maybe they have some gingerbread ones."
you nod, a small smile entering your lips. "let's go check it out, then. kika, do you wanna come-"
you're cut off by the sound of pierre calling for his girlfriend, holding up a reindeer costume and blabbering on about how it would be perfect for her cousin's dog. "sorry guys," kika says before strutting off to her boyfriend.
you both shrug before walking down the street towards the stand oscar had spotted. the sugary scent of cookies meets your nose from far away, and your mouth waters at the mere thought of the sweets. when you arrive, a sweet old lady sitting behind the stand greets you and tells you all about the different cookies she's baked. gingerbread, sugar cookies with little candy canes, snowball cookies, and various traditional swiss cookies.
"would you like to have a taste, dears?" the lady asks, pointing her hand to a plate with samples. you and oscar take a gingerbread cookie each, popping it into your mouths.
"oh yeah, this is lovely," he says, looking like he's savoring every crumb.
"much better than ours," you answer, nudging his shoulder with yours. he gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning offense.
you turn your attention back to the lady and telling her you'd love to buy a little box of cookies from her. oscar pays for them and she wraps the box in some pretty gift paper, handing it to you before you continue making your way down the street. the house walls and all trees are wrapped in christmas lights, some blinking in random colors and some with a soft glow of an elegant white. the streets are filled with people wearing santa hats, ugly christmas sweaters, and scarves so big half of their faces are covered. there's not a single frown in sight, the happiness and love so obvious you can almost see little hearts flowing above everyone's heads.
you glance into a couple of different stores as you stroll, stopping occasionally to check something out. when you reach a stand with different kinds of jewelry, something catches your eye: a golden necklace with a heart-shaped charm hanging from it. you carefully pick it up, your heart fluttering in your chest as you inspect it.
and when you look up at oscar from the necklace in your hands, he feels like the air is stolen from his lungs. your eyes are twinkling with happiness, outshining all lights in the entire christmas market. the excited smile on your lips is contagious, and suddenly, it's like the world around you has stopped and everyone else has disappeared. you're both just grinning at each other like two lovestruck fools, nothing in either of your minds other than the person in front of you. the sight of your rosy cheeks from the cold makes the butterflies in his stomach multiply by the second.
wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.
"really pretty," he finally gets out, unsure if he's talking about the necklace or the woman standing before him.
"pretty? it's gorgeous," you answer, eyes flickering back to the jewelry in your hand. "i adore it. how much is it?"
just as the guy in the booth is about to answer, you feel someone grab your free hand. "come on guys, they're closing down soon and we still have a bunch of shops to visit!" kika is pulling you along so fast you barely have time to put the necklace down.
lily notices the disappointment on your face and pats your shoulder. "we'll come back here sometime before christmas, don't worry."
lando shows you the christmas tree costume he bought as you wander down the market again, but oscar suddenly stops. "guys, i forgot my phone back at the cookie stand. keep walking, i'll catch up with you," he says, pointing behind him with his thumb and disappearing before anyone can say anything.
it's a good excuse, but you clearly see the outline of his phone in his back pocket as he hurries down the street.
december 19th, 9:22pm
the days roll on with a gentle rhythm of shared glances and fleeting touches between you and oscar. unbeknownst to both of you, lando, ever the persistent wingman, continues his behind-the-scenes matchmaking efforts.
in some magical way, lando manages to get you and oscar paired up for pretty much anything. board game night? you and oscar just happen to get the exact role cards that make you teammates. time for some ornament decorating? you and oscar are the only ones who don't get a seat on the couch, having to sit on the floor together and share all your materials.
funnily enough, it never gets awkward between the two of you. even when you are left all alone, there is always something to talk about, some dumb thing lando has done that you can tease him about behind his back, or something you are curious about when it comes to his racing career so far. somehow, being with oscar started feeling comfortable, natural, unforced.
one specific night, alex comes up with the idea of playing card games, to which only a few of you are actually interested. some plan on going to bed early so they can hit the slopes first thing in the morning, while others just aren't in the mood. oscar said he would just finish wrapping some christmas presents and join you all later, and you catch yourself feeling disappointed that he's not on the couch next to you, helping you win (or taunting you to make you lose). it surprises you how much you're drawn to him, how it feels like something is missing when he isn't around, when you didn't feel this way just a few days ago.
you try to shake the feeling off, but it's still lingering even as you start playing with your friends. eventually, you excuse yourself to get a glass of water from the kitchen to take your mind off things. but-
just as you round the corner going into the kitchen, your head crashes into something hard. you shriek as you stumble, hands coming up to grab the person in front of you as you lose your balance, but a pair of hands wrap around your back, holding you up. when you look up, you're met with oscar's big brown eyes blinking down at you. "you okay there?"
you let out a relieved breath, nodding at him. "yeah, thanks to you. what were you doing coming around the corner that fast, though?"
he chuckles. "what were you doing not looking where you're going?"
"touché."
your hands are still holding on to the front of his hoodie, and you're about to let go of him and walk away when you notice something in the upper periphery of your vision. something is hanging above you. but, it can't be-
of course it is.
the mistletoe.
oscar looks up just as you do, jaw dropping slightly. "oh..."
"indeed..."
you both keep your vision pointed up, as if the mistletoe would disappear if you just keep on staring at it. oscar's hands slowly begin to slide off your back, and he's hoping you'll both just pretend like none of this ever happened. it would be the least awkward thing to do.
"maybe-" his breath hitches in his throat when you speak up. his gaze is on you again, but you're still looking at the plant. "maybe we should do it. just... for the christmas spirit, you know. i love christmas."
you don't even know what you're blabbering on about. you're trying to improvise a reason to kiss your brother's colleague that makes at least a little sense, but you're completely lost. you realize how dumb you sound, and you expect to see him staring at you like you actually are insane when you look back at him.
but what you don't know is that he thinks it's the best idea ever. he is just as into it as you are, if not more. he doesn't look at you like you're crazy; he's just dumbfounded, blinking at you as he tries to understand what's happening. did the girl he likes really just say they should kiss? because she loves christmas?
oscar gulps, but something in him gives him the courage to nod. "i mean," he starts, voice weak. "what's the harm? it's just... tradition."
"right. yeah, that's exactly what i was thinking."
the tension is higher than ever as your faces are already just inches apart. you aren't sure who should take the initiative and lean in, but before you can overthink it, you're both doing it subconsciously. your noses brush against each other briefly and a little giggle escapes past your lips, and this whole situation feels very familiar. this time, oscar can't hold back anymore, so he closes the gap and presses his mouth to yours.
the kiss is quick, not much longer than a peck, but something changes inside you. when you didn't know what it felt like to kiss oscar, you didn't think too much about it. but now that you have felt his lips on yours, you crave it.
he seems to feel the same way, because when you kiss him again, he's pressing against you instantly. your hands move from his chest to his shoulders as your lips move in sync, tilting your head to get a better angle. oscar's touch travels up and down your sides, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach when your sweater lifts.
oscar takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and you let out a hum, making him grin into the kiss. his tongue swipes between your lips before slipping into your mouth, exploring it for the first, but hopefully not last, time. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, already growing hot as his hands move down to your butt.
kissing oscar is so easy, so comfortable. it's like you've done it so many times before, like it's what you were made to do.
you're so relaxed and so focused on the kiss that you don't even hear lando's footsteps right next to you, nor his snicker from a few meters away as he picks up his phone to snap a couple of pictures. you don't even hear him strutting away to the living room, nor his loud proclamation to the group: mission complete.
december 23rd, 8:35am
the rest of the days leading up to christmas consist of a lot of sneaking around.
the days are filled with secretive kisses when you're sure no one is watching, fleeting pecks or longer liplocks, hurriedly parting and acting like nothing happened when you hear approaching footsteps. they're filled with soft brushes as you pass each other in hallways, little squeezes of your waist or his arm when someone is around, conveying more than anyone could guess. and they're filled with giant, knowing smiles matching on your lips, with longing gazes and sly winks across the dinner table.
now, his hand is warm in yours despite the freezing temperatures of the air. when you said you forgot your mittens in the cabin, oscar had just smiled, taking off one of his own to give it to you. and to heat your other hand, he intertwined his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as you walked.
you'd slipped out of the house before anyone else had woken up, wishing for a peaceful moment for yourselves. the two of you haven't really had time to properly talk ever since your moment under the mistletoe, and even though it wasn't outspoken, you both knew there were things to be discussed.
you're halfway around the lake when he finally touches on the subject. "so..." he starts, nudging your shoulder with his. "you like me, huh?"
you snicker. "i have for quite some time now, actually."
his hand squeezes yours. "tell me about it."
and when he asks, you tell.
you tell him about seeing him all those years ago, thinking that he was just a pretty face, a good driver, and not much else. you tell him about getting to know him more and more in the last two years and realizing that shit, he's so much more than that. you tell him about the butterflies, about the sneaky glances, about falling for him.
and then, he tells you his side.
he tells you about knowing of you from your first appearances in the f1 paddock, the curiosity in him growing for every picture of you and charles he saw. he tells you about wanting to approach you but not knowing how, not wanting to come off too strong or clingy. he tells you about how nothing has ever been more disappointing to him than charles's timing back in abu dhabi. then, he tells you about how his fingers had secretly been crossed all trip, hoping that lando's attempts to pair the two of you up wouldn't fall through.
you share giggles and smiles as you tell your stories, and it all feels so natural even though it's so new. and you think to yourself that maybe, this won't be so hard to get used to.
december 23rd, 5:46pm
"how are things going with oscar?"
lily's voice makes your heart skip a beat. you had just walked into the kitchen to grab a gingerbread cookie, not expecting her to be doing the dishes this late in the evening – and especially not expecting her to ask you something like that. "what do you mean?" you ask back, trying to stay composed as you strut over to the cupboard, reaching into it for the box of cookies.
"are you going to be like... boyfriend and girlfriend now?"
the box slips out of your hands and crashes to the floor before you can catch it again. did you hear her correctly? your eyebrows shoot up and your mouth hangs open as you look at her again. she scoffs.
"oh please, the two of you aren't exactly sneaky," she says, looking back into the sink. "you know, lando took pictures of you under the mistletoe. and we all saw you coming back from your little trip to the lake earlier today."
"oh my god." you cover your face with your hands, letting out a groan. "oh my god. no way."
lily laughs, washing the last few plates under the tap before placing them on the side to drain. "don't worry, we were all in on it."
"and what does that mean?!"
"lando had a plan." of course he did. "we all agreed to help him out. except charles, he's still oblivious."
"what kind of plan?"
"well, just small things here and there, really." she wipes her hands on a towel before turning around and leaning against the counter. "hiding oscar's helmet so he'd have to stay here with you instead of skiing with us. walking really slowly in the market so you'd both get so tired of us that you'd stroll off alone. and the mistletoe, but that's obvious..."
as lily spills the details of lando's plan, you feel a mix of embarrassment and surprise, along with a hint of amusement. you're suddenly very aware of the collaboration that has taken place behind the scenes, and you take a deep breath as you slowly lower your hands from your face.
"so... lando really orchestrated all of this?" you exclaim, still trying to process the fact that your friends have been actively working to bring you and oscar closer together.
lily chuckles, nodding. "yes, and he's been loving every moment of it. we all figured you two needed a little push."
you shake your head in disbelief, a smile playing on your lips despite the initial shock. "what's the endgame here? is lando secretly a matchmaker or something?"
"he wishes," she says with a smirk. "i think he just enjoys playing cupid when he can." she shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. "but hey, it worked out well, didn't it? you and oscar seem pretty cozy."
"yeah, i guess..." the mention of oscar brings a blush to your cheeks. "i just didn't expect to have a whole team of co-conspirators."
lily laughs, stepping forward to pat your shoulder. "it's all in good fun. besides, it's about time something happened between you two." you nod in agreement, smiling at her. "now, spill. how are you feeling about all of this? is he boyfriend material?"
you hesitate for a moment, contemplating your newfound dynamic with oscar. a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "yeah, maybe. we're figuring it out, i guess. it's all been... surprisingly nice."
she grins, satisfied with your response. "well, then, i'd say lando's plan was a success." she backs away, walking towards the kitchen exit. "just enjoy it, okay? and don't be too mad at us. we just wanted to see you both happy."
you nod and watch as she leaves, still processing the directed events that have led up to this moment. as you're left alone, you can't help but smile to yourself at the thought of everything that's happened – and everything that's yet to come.
suddenly, for the first time in your life, you feel thankful for something lando has done. you'll have to remember to thank him later.
december 24th, 10:23pm
just a few hours ago, charles was challenged to a snowball fight with the rest of the twitch quartet. and how could he ever say no to them?
for you to fall asleep before he got back would just be stupid, because there's no way he will be able to keep quiet when he eventually he crashes into the room post-fight. so instead, you sit against the headboard of your bed, a thick blanket draped over your body and a good book in your hands as you enjoy the tranquility of the last few moments of christmas eve.
there's a soft knock on the door, one so low you could've just as well missed it. "come in," you call out, looking up from your book as the door creaks open. surprise paints your face as oscar enters the room, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of carrying out a secret mission.
in his hands, oscar holds a beautifully wrapped box, adorned with a crimson bow. "merry christmas."
"oscar, what are you up to?" you ask, laughter dancing in your eyes.
"giving you your present." he sits at your feet, holding out the present to you.
you place your book beside you on the bed, accepting the gift with a curious smile. you unwrap the present, and as you remove the lid of the box and your eyes are met with a necklace, your breath hitches in your throat.
the heart-shaped pendant is familiar – it's the exact necklace you'd eyed in the christmas market. you look up at oscar, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "i didn't forget my phone," he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. "i just really wanted to get it for you."
speechless, you delicately trace the edges of the pendant with your fingers. "oscar, i..."
"it's a christmas gift, but you can wear it whenever you want."
you hold the necklace up to him. "like now?"
he nods and takes it from you as you turn around, brushing away your hair so that he can secure the chain around your neck. when you turn back, you catch the glint of admiration in his eyes. "you look beautiful."
you hold the pendant between your thumb and pointer finger, a silent acknowledgment of the connection formed by the gift. "it's perfect, oscar. thank you." you tilt your head, smiling at him. "you're not getting your gift until tomorrow, though."
"just seeing you with this necklace is enough of a present for me. i don't need anything else."
december 25th, 6:04pm
christmas day morning is for gift exchanges. you all sit around the tree in the living room, giving out presents and sharing the background stories behind the silly little things you've bought each other. you receive a ton of random objects that people had bought that day in the christmas market; objects they bought just to irritate you and oscar. now that you know, you find it quite funny – and seeing charles's confused face as you unwrapped a green screwdriver from lando is definitely one of your highlights of the day.
your present to oscar is, obviously, better planned than most other gifts. beneath the wrapper is a box titled "skiing survival kit" written in big, red letters. in it lies a pair of thick socks (with a note reading "to protect your feet from those horrible boots"), a bag of hot chocolate mix ("for moments when skiing feels too challenging; a little warmth to make everything better"), a bottle of peppermint-scented massaging oil ("you never know when you find yourself in need of a massage..."), and a handwritten letter about how you enjoyed your stay in the cottage much more than the actual skiing and a promise to stay in and warm his chair for him next time he's out "skiing".
then, midday rolls around. the chefs of the group, also known as the few people who don't burn everything they attempt to cook, take their time to make a good dinner. in the meantime, the rest of you prepare some games and competitions, including a trivia, a snow fort building competition, and a gingerbread house-decorating contest that ended in lando letting his competitiveness get the best of him. safe to say that no other gingerbread houses were still standing, other than lando's, meaning the brit won by default. his price: getting thrown in the snow in just his pyjamas.
and the evening? it's dedicated to a movie marathon, as per russell family traditions.
it has all been planned into the finest detail; the couch in the living room is decorated with blankets and pillows, nearly every bowl in the house is filled to the brim with snacks, and mattresses and pillows on the floor for those who don't fit on the couch. everyone was included of the vote of what movie you were going to see, though you had a feeling george had cheated when you were told the 'home alone' series won. especially since it's the one series he hasn't been able to stop talking about wanting to watch all trip.
you're settled on the edge of the couch, a blanket wrapped over your shoulders and your knees pulled up to your chest. you're laughing along with something kika has said from right next to you when you hear a beep from the kitchen, indicating that the last bag of popcorn was ready. you assumed lando would be getting up to fetch it, seeing as he was the one who insisted you needed one more bag, but when your eyes find him, he sits very contently and comfortably a few seats away. he looks back at you, eyebrows rising as you make eye contact.
"hey, you're the closest to the kitchen," he says, nodding his head in your direction. "go get them."
he isn't wrong, but he still makes no sense. "no way, norris."
he pouts. "please, be quick so we can start the movie already."
"you suck."
he sticks out his tongue at you but you've already walked off. when you return, a new bowl filled with popcorn in your arms, you aren't exactly surprised to see lando in the seat that used to be yours. you shoot him a glare, to which he answers, "i could barely see the tv from where i was sitting!"
"oh, but you think i'll be able to?" you scoff at the way he shrugs his shoulders, seemingly to say that it's now none of his business. and when you look at his old seat, you are even less surprised to see who's sitting right next to it.
oscar is looking up at you, confusion mixing into his features. he's been scrolling on his phone for the last few minutes and didn't notice when his teammate left him alone.
neither of you complain when you slip into lando's old spot, though. oscar immediately grabs the blanket in his lap and drapes it over you too. you shuffle closer to him as the movie turns on, the soft fabric of his pyjama pants brushing against yours. the bowl of popcorn is propped up on your lap, and when you reach into it to grab a handful, it touches something warm. you rip your eyes from the tv to see your hand brushing against oscar's. of course.
considering the other touches and kisses you've shared these last few days, it's not even a very intimate action. and yet, something about it leaves both of you giggling.
"so many clichés this trip, huh?" he says, eyes flickering between your hands and your face.
instead of answering, you grab his hand in yours. your fingers slip in between his easily, as they've done so many times these last few days, but you pull your hands underneath the blanket to keep them out of sight from everyone else.
it's a good movie, but it's easy for you to zone out when you feel oscar's hand squeeze yours. neither of you can really stay away from the other, inching closer as the movie progresses and stealing little cheek kisses when everyone is focused on the most exciting scenes. and when you start to grow a little tired, your head instinctively lands on his shoulder as you let out a little yawn. oscar desperately has to hold himself back from cooing at you, feeling so soft and prideful that you're leaning on him, and he settles for leaning his own head on you.
you both think you're being subtle, but everyone in the room understands what's going on. even charles, who has now been let in on what's happened between you and oscar after he walked in on lando telling alex about how cute the new couple in the house looked walking around the lake, can't take his eyes off the two of you. as your older brother, he feels like he should be doing something or saying something to protect you. he wonders what his role should be here – aren't brothers supposed to scare their sisters' boyfriends away?
but charles realizes that oscar isn't an enemy. in this moment, you look so peaceful, so content; like you've found the the long-lost puzzle piece to make you complete. how could he possibly interrupt that?
december 25th, 11:28pm
charles is still fast asleep on the couch when you slip into oscar's room after the movie has ended, fingers intertwined and your laughter mixing as he pulls you along to his bed. his hands find your hips as he sits down on the edge of the bed, urging you to lower yourself onto his lap, and you happily oblige.
"look up," he says, and when you do, you're not surprised by what's hanging in the roof.
the mistletoe.
"oh," you start, looking back at him. last time you found yourself underneath the mistletoe with oscar, you had been more nervous than ever before. but this time, it isn't as scary. this time, you're able to shrug, a teasing grin forming on your lips. "i guess we should kiss, then. just for the christmas spirit, you know."
his lips are curved into a big smile. "oh, i do know." one of his hands comes up to tuck some hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in his palm. "it's because you love christmas."
you can't hold back from giggling, and neither can he, both of you leaning in to seal your lips. your first encounter underneath the mistletoe was hesitant, but it feels like that was ages ago, in another lifetime. now, with his lips pressing against yours, it feels like it's all you've known.
he's so gentle with it, his kisses delicate and tender, and your heart flutters at the feeling. his hands land on your waist as your arms wrap around his neck, scooting in even closer. when your crotch brushes against him, he involuntarily lets out a moan into your mouth, and you stop for a moment to pull away. both your eyes and his are wide as you look at each other, and oscar doesn't know what to say. his mind is racing, not sure if you thought that was awkward or too soon or-
"that's so fucking hot," you say, and he finally exhales. you kiss him again, speaking against his lips. "wanna hear more."
he has no problems letting out more sounds when you keep up your actions, your hips rolling down on him rhythmically. his hands find the hem of your sweater and slip inside, instantly roaming your sides. his cold touch tickles, and when his fingers move along your waist, you can't help but giggle against his lips. he laughs along with you, but he only does it to match you. he's dumbfounded when you part from him and you grab his wrists to make him halt.
"you're too cold," you start, a bit breathless already. "it's-"
"are you really that ticklish?" he chuckles, fingers running up and down your sides again to test you, and his heart melts when you throw your head back, laughing. "oh come on, how am i supposed to do this if i can't touch you?"
"warm your fingers next time and we should be fine."
"next time, huh?" a combination of a smirk and a grin plays on his lips. "planning ahead?"
"well, it depends on how well you perform tonight." he sticks out his tongue at your taunting tone. "just take it off already, will you?"
oscar happily obliges, pulling the material off you before reaching for his own sweater, throwing them both onto the floor. his eyes stick to your chest, to the soft, red bed bra holding up your breasts, and he feels himself growing harder instantly, because this is so much better than he'd imagined. you can't exactly complain about what your eyes are met with, either; oscar's toned chest and his broad shoulders are basically calling out for you to come and press your lips to them. or sink your teeth in them. probably both.
he gives you a few quick kisses before his hands land on your hips and he flips you both around, laying you onto the covers. his lips meet the skin below your ear, and then travel down the side of your neck. he hears your breath hitch in your throat when he finds a spot you enjoy particularly much, making sure to memorize it for the future. and when his kisses trail even further down, they meet something hard and metallic. when he leans back, he realizes that you're wearing the necklace.
he didn't notice it until now, since he was too busy being mesmerized by your breasts earlier; but now, he can't take his eyes off it. the little heart charm rests just above your actual heart, and something about seeing it makes his heart flutter. the necklace he bought for you, the one that makes you think of him and only him. it's like you're already tagged as his.
"cute," he whispers to himself, placing a long kiss right on top of the heart. he can feel your real heart beating underneath his lips, fast but not really enough, and he can't wait to make you feel like it's pounding out of your chest.
he starts placing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, his hands finding the waistband of your sweatpants.
"you okay with me taking these off?" he asks, parting from your skin to watch you nod your head. he pulls the material down your body, smiling when your underwear comes into sight. they're not a pair of lacy lingerie or victoria's secret-lookalikes, but just a regular pair of panties in a deep green color with little candy canes. his eyes flicker between your bra and your panties. "green and red, huh?"
"well, what can i say?" you smile. "i love christmas." he giggles, and so do you, as he leaves your pants somewhere on the floor before moving further down your body. when his hands near the fuzzy socks with little cartoon santas dressing your feet, you're quick to speak. "those stay on, though."
"oh, is that so?"
"gotta make sure you're not just doing this for that foot fetish you might or might not have." a laughter erupts from his chest. "i've had too much of that recently."
"well, i don't have one, so i don't mind you keeping them on." he moves up on the bed again, fingers reaching the hem of your underwear. "but i can take these off, right?"
"things would get kinda tricky otherwise, i'd say,” you tease, but oscar merely blinks up at you with raised eyebrows.
"tricky, yes. but not impossible."
you shake your head, a grin making its way onto your lips. "next time, oscar."
and there it is again. next time. the way you say it so casually, like there's no doubt in your mind that there will be another time, that you'll do all of this again.
yet again, instant boner.
your panties are off in a second, and he doesn't waste any time before pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. his hand takes care of your other thigh, thumb brushing up and down your skin, as your lips travel closer and closer to where you want him the most.
you suck in a breath when you feel his warm breath against your core. his tongue meets your clit and your eyes flutter closed, one of your hands reaching down to entangle in his hair. as his tongue draws circles around your bud, one of his hands leaves your thigh, a finger swiping along your wet folds before pushing slowly into you. you don't know which sensation to focus on, both growing stronger and pushing you closer to your limit every passing second. when he's pumped you a couple of times, he adds another finger and then another, pushing deep into you. his fingers curling inside of you makes you pull on his hair even harder, your mind growing hazy and your breaths shorter.
"o-oscar," you let out, subconsciously buckling your hips towards him in hopes of creating more friction. "i'm so clos-"
you're cut off by the combination of a moan and a whine that leaves your lips when his tongue flicking your clit speeds up. "come for me, sweetheart," he tells you, his voice sending vibrations against your core.
your legs shake around him as you completely let go, feeling the climax wash over you just moments after his order. your free arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes in your arm as you try to catch your breath. oscar continues lapping you up, helping you ride it out, also licking his fingers clean before letting his hands caress your sides soothingly. he's unsure whether his fingers are warm enough now to not tickle you, or if you're just too busy coming down from your high to even realize you should feel ticklish, but he smiles at the thought nonetheless.
"everything alright up here?" oscar asks as he moves up to your face again, one of his hands prying the arm off your face. you slowly open your eyes, your hazy gaze meeting his loving one and you can't help but to cup his face in your hands. you pull him down to your lips, lazily lacing them together. he pulls away just enough for his lips to still brush yours when he speaks. "i'll take that as a yes."
you're quick to nod, but even quicker to connect his lips with yours again, not wanting to be apart for even a second.
your hands slide down his neck and the front of his body, loving the feeling of his strong muscles under your touch. your fingers reach down to the edge of his pajama pants, and you let out a chuckle when you notice the ever-growing tent in them. "don't laugh at me," he starts, biting down on your bottom lip as a warning. "you're so hot, how could i not get this hard?"
"oh, shut it," you say, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. "just take them off, will you?"
"as you wish."
as he shuffles off the bed and pulls off his own pants, plus his boxers along with them, you take the time to reach behind you and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms and off the bed. when he reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a condom, you raise your eyebrows. "oh, so you were planning this?"
he shakes his head as he climbs on top of you again. "i was hoping, not expecting. those are two very different things." he removes the wrapper and throws it onto the table, rolling the condom onto himself. "do you need anything? or-"
"just you."
oscar presses his smile to yours, kissing you like he has no rush in the world, like he just wants to savor this moment with you. "well then," he says against your lips, nudging his dick against your entrance. "i have to give the lady what she wants, don't i?"
you can't control the whine that slips into his mouth when he pushes into you. you thought you were ready for him, but he's so big and he stretches you out so perfectly. he pauses once he's slipped entirely into you, his lips finding a spot below your ear as he allows you to get used to him. your pussy is throbbing already, still sensitive from just minutes ago, and the little involuntary clenches around him make oscar grow more and more eager.
when he finally starts moving, you drape your arms around his shoulders for stability. his thrusts are slow but deep, and yet you desperately want more of him. you hook a leg over his hip, the other following soon after, and you gasp at the way he bottoms you out completely. one of his hands comes up to squeeze your breast, thumb flicking over the nipple as his pace speeds up. the sounds you make and the way your legs squeeze him close makes him feel like he could cum anytime, but he tries to hold back because he needs to see you fall apart beneath him for the second time tonight.
"oscar..." you cry out when his free hand slides down your body, a finger coming in contact with your clit again.
"just a little more, love." his thrusts have grown sloppy and his figures on your bud aren't exactly perfect, but it's good enough for your orgasm to hit.
your back arches off the bed, your chest pressing into his as you nuzzle your face into the side of his neck to hide your moans. when your walls tighten around him, he reaches his high too, his body shaking as he rides it out. your heart is about ready to jump out of your chest when he collapses onto you, both of you trying to catch your breaths. "holy fuck," oscar starts, his breath warm on your skin. "that was amazing. you feel amazing." you try to gather energy to speak, fingers getting lost in his curls. "you taste amazing, too. better than any christmas dinner."
you give him a weak slap to his shoulder. "shush."
"it's true!" he pushes himself back a bit, mouth hanging in mock offense. "this was the best present i could've ever wished for."
"the necklace is higher on my list, though."
oscar pauses for a moment. "i'm not sure if i should feel proud or offended."
you snicker. "i was hoping for the latter," you tease, but regret it the moment oscar's hands find your waist, fingers dancing along it and tickling you yet again. the squeal you let out does nothing to halt his actions, and he doesn't even budge when you try to push him away by his shoulders. "i was kidding!"
"apologize. now."
his fingers still working their way on your skin make it almost impossible for you to speak again, but you do your best to take a deep breath. "i'm- i'm sorry! oscar- stop it!"
he finally stops, and you finally get to breathe. "i'll go get a wet towel," oscar says, pulling away from you and giving you one last glance. he almost doesn't leave the bed when he looks at you, though – he finds the sight almost too good to be true. your rosy cheeks, the dreamy smile on your lips, your hair spread out on the pillows. he's scared that if he leaves you, maybe the spell will be broken and he'll realize all of this has just been a dream. because that's just how this all feels: surreal.
but it is real, and he can't wait to have you like this in his bed again.
december 26th, 12:56pm
packing up after a good trip is always a bittersweet affair. realizing that you have the real world waiting for you, your actual lives with responsibilities and obligations, and that you can't just stay in this fairytale forever – this moment was definitely not something you looked forward to.
you and charles need to get back to monaco to celebrate christmas with your other brothers and your mother, before he needs to go away for pre-season work again. you're meticulously folding up your clothes, zipping up bags and exchanging smiles as you reminisce on memories of the week.
but, things are different this time. you know that the magic of this trip isn't going to stay here – in one way or another, you'll bring some of it with you back to your real life.
oscar.
you've already made plans to meet up after new years, and even when he's busy with work, you know that you'll at least see him during every race weekend. neither of you are ever more than a flight, or a call, away, and you just can't wait to see where this all takes you.
"so... oscar, huh?" charles's voice breaks the silence, his eyes glancing in the direction of your open door that lets in the sound of oscar's voice from the living room.
"hm? what about him?" you reply, trying to hold back the smile threatening to adorn your lips when you hear his name.
charles cocks an eyebrow at you. "you and him... kind of obvious." he gazes towards your bed. "besides, your bed is made. you didn't sleep here last night."
"well, i-" you start, but charles interrupts with a knowing chuckle.
"relax, i'm not going to be a police. just..." he shows off a sweet smile. "enjoy it."
with a nod and a shared understanding, you both continue packing, an unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air. the group gathers to bid you farewell by the front door, and gratitude fills your heart as you exchange goodbyes with your friends. you grow especially soft when lando pulls you into a hug, a cheeky grin on his lips. "thank you," you whisper, giving his cheek a quick peck to really convey how much you appreciate everything he's done this holiday. he just squeezes you back, telling you not to worry about it.
finally, as you turn to say your farewell to oscar, the atmosphere shifts and the group watches with amused anticipation. "until next time," you say, your eyes holding a promise that transcends the physical distance.
"until next time," he repeats, smiling as you engulf him in a tight hug.
you pull away just enough for your ear to brush against his ear, your voice low. "charles knows, by the way."
"w-what?" his eyes widen for a moment, flickering between you and your brother – but then realization dawns. "well, in that case..."
before you can react, oscar pulls you closer again. he presses a goodbye-kiss on your lips, right there in front of everyone, and the group erupts into cheers.
and the loudest of them all? lando, of course. "if i'm not the best man at your wedding, i'll never forgive you guys."
#oscar piastri#f1#formula one#formula 1#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x yn#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri fanfic#f1 fluff#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x yn#f1 x y/n#f1 fanfic#mclaren#oscar piastri fic#Spotify
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For @meibhin who requested bucktommy first christmas together, hope you like this take!
“So, what Christmas traditions did you have growing up?” Evan asks him. He’s already typing in the notes app of his phone and Tommy shakes his head fondly. It’s their first Christmas together and Evan’s determined to make it perfect.
Tommy doesn’t tell him that as long as they get to be together, it will be perfect for him. He thinks back to the Christmases of his childhood, bouncing back and forth between his parents, getting stuck at the airport the one time and it being oddly happy, because at least there was no yelling and a nice family who got stuck in the storm adopted him for the night and gifted him an airplane book from the airport bookstore.
He blows out a breath through his nose. “Holidays weren’t exactly… happy occasions growing up.” He shrugs trying to play it off, but Evan gives him a look that says he understands. There’s no pity or “I’m sorry”, just love and understanding.
“Do you have any happy Christmas memories? What about your extended family, there must be something right?”
Tommy thinks for a minute and is transported to holidays at his nonna’s. He hardly spent actual Christmas Day there, but his mom would take him for epifania. They’d get there the day before, along with all the cousins and everyone would find presents the next morning. He can still feel the warmth from those days and smell the aroma from his nonna’s kitchen, from her special sauce that she spent all day making.
“Well, not Christmas, exactly,” he finally says. “But, we would go over to nonna’s for The Feast of Epiphany on January 6th- you know when the three wise men visited Jesus?”
Evan nods, waiting for him to continue, mouthing the words feast of epiphany as he taps on his phone.
“We’d get there the day before and the adults would prepare for La Befana. It’s this sort of folklore tradition of a benevolent witch, basically, who flies around January 5th and leaves presents and sweets for us to find the next day.” Tommy laughs, “I don’t wanna brag, but I usually got the best candy.”
“Of course you did,” Evan grins. Who could look at that cute face and not give you the best? That sounds fun, by the way.”
Tommy shrugs. “It was. After my parents divorced, we went over less and less and my extended family doesn’t live around here so I’m not sure if my cousins still do it for their children.”
Evan perks up with a wide smile on his face. He knows he’s not a golden retriever but god, sometimes he does these little things and it makes Tommy feel unbearably fond.
“Why don’t we do that for the kids here? Denny, Chris, Mara, Jee? We could get May and Harry to help, if they feel like they’re too old for it.” He claps his hands excitedly. “Oh! We can throw a sleepover, make s’mores and hot chocolate, watch movies..” He trails off, looking hesitantly at Tommy. “Sorry, I kinda got carried away, I mean we don’t have to—
Tommy shushes him with the soft press of a finger to his lips. “I love it, baby. Let’s do it.”
Evan’s smile is bright and lovely as he leans into kiss him between his finger. “Yeah?”
“Heck yeah. We need to maintain our status as favorite uncles, after all,” Tommy grins.
Evan’s Christmas playlist plays softly in the background, as Tommy thinks about this and many holidays to come with their family, the food and joy and maybe even the smells of his own tomato sauce permeating their home. He can’t wait.
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fuck it friday
tagged by @daffi-990 @giddyupbuck @spotsandsocks
hi!! i'm back lol - well, the craziness at work is done and I'm slowly getting back to writing bc I haven't written in like a week and it's killing me lol (this is gonna sound dramatic but I literally don't feel like myself if I don't write for too long haha) I don't have anything new to share rn, but I figured since it's already december and since some of y'all are sharing Christmas fics, and knowing I likely won't write one this year, I'm gonna shamelessly plug my holiday fake dating fic with 4 Christmases and 6 Christmas chapters actually 😂 (Christmas was a very important time for Buck and Eddie's relationship in this lol) - there's obvi more holidays in this but anyway, here's a snippet of their first Christmas together also, it's been a year since I posted the first chapter and I'm feeling nostalgic lol, this fic is my baby and I love it so much (tho there's so many things I'd change now lol)
[read on Ao3]
___
Turns out, Buck is very much serious about the whole thing, and Christopher finds it hilarious and is eager to play along. Eddie doesn’t have valid arguments not to do it, and it’s not like he doesn’t want to. After another snide comment when talking to his parents, he made his decision. And he already felt this exciting feeling of satisfaction when he told them he’d be bringing someone for Christmas this year – miraculously, Buck and Eddie don’t work on Christmas, and they took an additional day off, so their schedules allow for a three-day trip to Texas.
So now, it’s Christmas Eve and they’re on their way from the airport to Eddie’s childhood home, and he’s nervous, doubts just starting to seep in. What on earth possessed him to do this? He can’t lie to his family. He can’t pretend to be in love with Buck. What if he really does fall in love with him? What if everything goes to shit? He’s watched enough movies to know it’s a bad idea, but he couldn’t and still can’t bring himself to stop it.
“So.” Eddie says, his voice shaking slightly, as they sit in a cab. “We’re doing this.”
“Yep.” he can hear Buck grin next to him. “Unless you still wanna back out?” he adds quickly. They could still say Buck’s just a friend. No big deal. But Eddie does have this petty desire to stir something up, and this seems perfect.
“No. It’ll be fine.” he smiles at Buck, and then feels hot when Buck grabs his hand and interlaces their fingers, winking at him. Christopher laughs.
“You’d make a great couple.” he comments. He’s been unusually happy about all of this. He also asked Eddie a few days ago if Eddie loves Buck, which prompted a conversation, but he thinks Chris knows what’s going on now. Eddie doesn’t really know what to think about that.
“Thanks, buddy.” Buck responds excitedly, squeezing Eddie’s hand, and he can’t contain a smile. If not anything else, at least all three of them are going to have a lot of fun.
___
no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @diazblunt @911onabc @spagheddiediaz @housewifebuck @gayhoediaz @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @exhuastedpigeon @weewootruck @loserdiaz @evanbegins @steadfastsaturnsrings @ladydorian05 @malewifediaz @pirrusstuff @theotherbuckley @911-on-abc @hoodie-buck @wildlife4life @fortheloveofbuddie @nmcggg @diazpatcher @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @lover-of-mine @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz @jamespearce9-1-1
#fuck it friday#the holiday fic#wikiangela writes#for a holiday (and forevermore)#some shameless self promo#it's done and 95k and it's fake dating and it's fluffy and cute and I love it haha#also there's quite a bit of eddie and his sisters and it was my fave thing to write (abc give us some big brother eddie pls im begging lol)#and just recently this fic got my first ever 1k kudos which is just mindblowing and i get overwhelmed if i think about it too long lol#so perfect time to share it again haha#buddie fic#buddie#my writing#fic snippet#this post got long and rambling lmao sorry and if you read it all ily <3 hahaha
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I'm Your Wife- Chapter Six
Jack gif by: @coredrive My Masterlist
Pairing: Jack Daniels ‘Agent Whiskey’x Spanish-speaking f!reader and Javier Peña x Spanish-speaking f!reader (Spanish translations are provided.)
Previous Chapter: I'm Your Wife- Chapter Five
Next Chapter: I'm Your Wife- Chapter Seven
Word count: 4.3k+
Chapter summary: Jack visits Ángel in the hospital, bringing the gifts he bought. During the visit, you find yourself reflecting on your relationship with Jack—both before and after your engagement. Also, your husband, Javi, and your ex-husband, Jack, try their best to not kill each other. (Picks up directly from ch. 5. The flashback scene is bold and italicized.)
Rating: 18+ No explicit content, but this is an 18+ page. Warning contains spoilers, but please read if you'd like!!! They are below the cut, but if you don't want to read them, the story starts after the aviators.
Warnings: Angst, jealousy, light suggestive stuff, pregnancy, divorce, childhood disease, mention of death, mention of the death of a child.
You were abruptly pulled from that memory when you heard a soft “¿Mami?”
Your head snapped towards Ángel, who was awake from his nap, his hair adorably messy.
"We've been calling your name," Javi says, no longer in his chair. He's now pouring some milkshake from a third cup into a smaller one for Ángel.
"Sorry, nomas estaba pensando ([I] was just thinking),” you say as you get up to give your son a kiss.
“¿En que, mami? (In what, mommy?)” Ángel asks, tilting his head to look at you.
Before you can reply, a knock echoes in the room.
"Come in," Javi says, loud enough for the person behind the door to hear.
The door opens, and Jack enters with a blue bag in hand.
"Mr. Daniels!" Ángel greeted him, clearly happy to see him.
"Hi, buddy," Jack responded, glad to see that Ángel was taking a liking to him, even if he didn't know their true connection.
"How are you feeling?" Jack asks, genuinely concerned.
"Good, thank you," Ángel replies politely, lifting his cup to take a sip. "My dad gave me some milkshake," he adds with a small smile.
At the mention of Javi’s name, Jack turns to Javi. "Javier," he acknowledges with a slightly sour tone.
"Hi, Jack," Javi responded without bothering to look up from what he was doing.
"I got something for you," Jack says, placing a gift bag on his son's lap. Ángel's head instinctively turned to look at Javi with big questioning eyes, silently seeking permission.
“Puedes abrirlo (you can open it),” Javi said softly, granting him permission.
Ángel eagerly reached into the bag, pulling out tissue paper and tossing it over his shoulder onto the floor. He excitedly reached into the bag with his small arm and pulled out a boy's denim jacket. It was a dark blue wash with silver buttons and yellow stitching all along the jacket. The jacket had several pockets, and Ángel immediately started sticking his small fingers into them. The most noticeable feature was a deep red patch at the back of the neck area. In the center of the maroon leather, the word "Jean" was meticulously stitched in bold, white thread. The stitching wasn't perfect, nor was it meant to be; it almost appeared as if it had been hand-sewn. Near the bottom right corner of the patch, a quartet of squares appears, not arranged in a straight line, but it looked better that way. Each square bears a single letter, together spelling out "S-H-O-P."
“¡Qué chulo! (so cute!)” Ángel exclaimed in awe as he tried to put it on, getting halfway before realizing that his right arm had an IV.
"I love it! Thank you so much, Mr. Jack!" your son exclaims with genuine joy. It almost makes up for all the Christmases Jack missed with Ángel - almost.
"No need to thank me, buddy," Jack replies, delighted that Ángel liked the jacket. Kids usually prefer toys over clothing, but ever since Ángel met Jack, he's had cowboy fever.
"I have the same one," Jack adds, the idea of matching with his son warming his heart. Jack couldn't help himself but buy items identical to the ones he already had in his closet. "You can wear it when you get out of here and go to the ranch," Jack explains.
Ángel responds happily and giddy, his excitement bubbling over.
"Keep looking, there's more," Jack encourages his son to explore the rest of the gifts, eager to see his reaction.
“Muy bien (very well), Mr. Jack," Ángel says obediently, forgetting Jack doesn't know Spanish. He reaches into the bag and pulls out a book.
"One hundred fun facts about Horses," Ángel reads out loud and gasps.
"He loves books," you fill Jack in.
Jack was going to say, he didn't get that from me, but he held back and instead replied, "he got that from you."
"Can I read this now?" Ángel questions, clutching the milkshake in one hand and the book in the other.
"There's still more,” Jack points at the bag.
Ángel seemed astonished, asking as if he couldn't believe it, "More?"
"Just one more," Jack laughs at his son's excitement.
For the third time, Ángel reaches into the bag, his face contorted in confusion as he struggles to pull out the item with one hand. "Ma," he calls out and hands you his drink. You hold it for him, and with both hands, he successfully retrieves the last item from the bottom of the bag.
He takes out a black box with the word 'stetson' printed in white ink. Your son rattles the box, but his eyebrows pinch in the middle; he can't make out what's inside the box.
He finally reads the text and asks, "What is a stetson?" Not waiting for an answer as his curiosity got the best of him, he takes matters into his own hands and opens the box, revealing a layer of white tissue paper inside. This time, he's more careful. With his small fingers, Ángel gently grasps the paper from both ends in the middle and pulls it apart.
"Wow!" he exclaims as he sees a black hat upside down. He delicately removes the hat from its container and flips it over to examine it with wide eyes.
Ángel looks at Jack with a smile that warms Jack's heart, a smile he'd do anything for, even if it meant crawling to the depths of hell and facing Satan himself, just to keep it on his son's face.
He begins, "My grandpa gave me a hat—" but his sentence is cut short when he eyes Jack's own hat. He then turned his attention back to the smaller hat in his hands, his face contorted with intense concentration. "Wait... it's just like yours, Mr. Jack!"
The smile that Jack offers in response is just like Ángel's. He can already envision his son wearing everything he's given him. The prospect of having his son resemble him, even in a small way, fills Jack with emotion. Tears prick Jack’s eyes at the thought of his son looking like a little version of himself, without the mustache, of course. He can’t wait for the day his son will be his spitting image, from head to toe, or more appropriately, from the top of the hat to the tip of his boots. Now he just needs boots, Jack thinks, making a mental note to purchase them soon.
"Do you like it?" Jack asks.
"I love it!" Ángel exclaims.
Without hesitation, he places the hat on his head and grins when it fits perfectly. "My glasses didn't fall this time!"
Laughter envelops the room, and you can't help but wish for this kind of co-parenting relationship with Jack.
“Papi, look, it looks a little like the one grandpa gave me,” Ángel says not resisting showing his dad, as he does with everything.
It was indeed true; Chucho had gifted his grandson a straw hat. The moment Ángel received the hat, he'd given his grandpa a giant hug and then raced to show his dad.
Javi had never shared his son before, so watching him interact with Jack was a bit difficult for him. But he knew it was for the best, and he held onto the certainty that Ángel would always be his son, no matter what.
"Sí, mijo, te ves lindo (Yes son, you look nice)," Javi honestly praised Ángel's appearance, trying to focus on the happiness of the moment.
Jack, in the same boat as Javi, felt his heart chip ever so slightly every time Ángel called Javier "dad." He made a conscious effort to push aside these feelings and to fully enjoy the present.
"It’s perfect, right?” Jack asked, wanting reassurance.
“Yes, Mr. Daniels. Thank you,” Ángel replied, gratitude in his eyes, and he invited Jack to sit down next to him.
Jack complied happily, impressed by Ángel's ability to win him over so quickly.
“Can you tell me more about your ranch, please?” Ángel gazed at Jack with puppy eyes, and Jack couldn't resist.
He chuckled at how quickly his son could melt his heart. "Sure thing."
“Wait! I want a picture first,” Ángel suddenly announced.
“I’ll do it,” Jack offered before you or Javi had a chance to react.
Jack stood up from his chair, retrieved his phone from his pocket, and started setting up the camera. While he was busy, Ángel adjusted his jacket to make sure it wasn't slipping off the shoulder where his arm wasn't through the sleeve.
“Ready?” Jack asked, his finger poised over the top right button to take a picture.
Ángel didn’t reply with words. Instead, he looked up at Jack and said, “Cheese,” remembering to smile. He held the pose while Jack's phone captured several clicks.
“Thank you, Mr. Jack,” Ángel said gratefully.
“Thank you, buddy.”
Jack moved to his gallery to look at the pictures he had just taken and let out a sigh of frustration when he noticed the quality wasn't what he had hoped for.
“Maybe I need to get a newer phone,” he grumbled, slightly annoyed.
At that moment, Javi's voice came from behind him, growing nearer. “Probably because I heard the Smithsonian wants to contact you to make a deal so they could display your phone for their 1930s collection,” Javi deadpanned, handing his own phone to Jack. “Here, use my phone. I'll make sure you get the pictures.”
Jack accepted the phone with an eye roll, gave a begrudging nod, and muttered a terse 'thanks' before asking his son to smile once more. This time, Jack was satisfied with the pictures he took and returned Javi's phone.
A palpable tension lingered between the two men as they settled back into their respective chairs, the strained atmosphere refusing to dissipate but remaining held in check within the confines of the hospital room.
Sipping on their milkshakes, Jack raked his brain for a story to share, while you removed your son’s jacket to allow him to lay back more comfortably.
Once Ángel was nestled against the pillows, Jack began his story. “During nights at the ranch, the stars are beautiful. The most beautiful starry nights…”
starry nights
starry nights
starry nights
“And that is The Big Dipper,” you pointed at the sky and traced the constellation with your finger. It was a collection of seven bright stars in the shape of a ladle, its handle stretching out across the sky like a long handle on a giant celestial spoon. It was a clear, beautiful night, and the stars seemed to shine especially bright.
“Over there is Orion,” you traced with your finger again. Orion was one of the most recognizable constellations, with its three stars forming Orion's Belt.
“and there-” you turned to look at Jack, expecting to find him gazing at the stars as you had been. Instead, he was looking intently at you.
“What are you looking at?” You asked, puzzled as to why he wasn’t following your descriptions. “Am I boring you?” You wondered, a mix of genuine concern and offense in your voice.
“Nunna that,” he replied in his thick drawl.
“So?” You prodded.
“I just love you,” he said, his expression filled with adoration. Jack looked at you as though you were the most incredible thing in the world.
You couldn't help but laugh, maybe at the intensity of the moment, or maybe at the expression that sent your heart racing, or perhaps a combination of both. You reached out, ran your fingers through his hatless hair – a rarity – and pulled him in for a kiss.
A few months later, he proposed to you, and just like that, it seemed that overnight, he had changed.
The night Jack proposed, the air was filled with the scent of love and the promise of a shared future. Bodies exhausted from the intimate celebration, you both drifted into sleep with the utmost excitement for your upcoming wedding and the prospect of spending the rest of your lives together.
As you dreamt sweetly about your wedding day and all the plans you and Jack had lovingly discussed, Jack had an entirely different dream – one that would alter the course of your lives. In this dream, he was visited by his high school sweetheart, his first wife. She came to him, tearful and broken, a ghost of heartache, accusing him of replacing her with you. Over eight hours of sleep, Jack relived every shared moment, each memory etched into his mind, right down to the devastating memory of burying her along with their unborn son.
In his vivid dream, Jack meticulously compared the two of you, scrutinizing and contrasting your every feature, your every virtue. He reached the conclusion that his first wife was his one true love, his happily ever after. He placed her on an unattainable pedestal, and you, unfortunately, received the short end of the stick. In his altered and frantic mindset, still within the dream, Jack reassured her that you could never replace her because you could never be her. Jack decided that you could never measure up to the ideal woman he had built in his memories of his first wife.
Life had cruelly snatched her away, and in a perverse twist of fate, you became a living and painful reminder of everything he had lost and everything he could never regain. The woman he had lost became an unattainable ghost of perfection, and you, no matter how wonderful and loving, were forever held hostage by the shadow of her memory.
As the morning sun streamed into the room, you opened your eyes, anticipating the warmth of his presence beside you. When he wasn't in bed, you thought he might be in the kitchen making breakfast, so you searched for him happily, looking forward to sharing a bath to relive the delicious soreness from the night before, with thoughts of another round lingering in your imagination. However, your excitement turned to disappointment when he wasn't anywhere in the house.
Hours later, when he finally returned home, his behavior was curt, and he vaguely mentioned having something to do. Initially, you brushed it off, blaming his behavior on the stress of work, assuming it was a one-time thing.
Then, a week passed; Jack distanced himself even further, rejecting your touch and avoiding PDA, which he used to love. The warmth that used to define your connection was now replaced by a chilling void.
Conversations about his day once shared openly, became scarce, and when you broached planning your wedding, he conveniently found errands or claimed overtime at work—anything to avoid the topic.
Your once lively conversations dwindled, and the late-night talks on random topics became a distant memory. Your hopeful wishes for Jack to return to his previous self remained just that—wishes. Instead of reverting, Jack's behavior worsened. Thinking back on that post-engagement morning, it was as though a different Jack had awakened: someone you wouldn't recognize in the years to come, leaving you confused about what you might have done to bring about this change.
Unbeknownst to you, Jack had finished his story. You returned from the memory you had tried so diligently to bury, only to realize that Jack was explaining to his son that he needed to leave.
“I’ve gotta go to the pharmacy and pick up my medicine," he told Ángel. Although Jack didn't specify the medicine he needed to collect, both you and Javi were well aware that it was the injections he needed.
Ángel's face fell with disappointment, evident in his now-diminished smile. But he quickly bounced back before Jack could offer more apologies.
"It's okay, Mr. Jack," he said with a brave smile, even though his eyes betrayed his disappointment.
"Medicine is very important," Ángel added matter-of-factly.
Jack smiled at the boy's maturity. "You're absolutely right."
"I'll see you soon, right?" Ángel asked with a hint of concern in his voice.
"Whenever the hospital allows," Jack replied cautiously, refraining from disclosing his procedure, as Ángel wasn’t aware of the pending surgery, and Jack didn't want to lie to his son.
Ángel accepted Jack's answer and thanked him for the wonderful gifts before saying his goodbyes.
"I'll see you out, Jack. The exit you normally use is closed, so you'll need to go through the sky bridge," Javi offered.
"Sure," Jack agreed without protest.
He was just about to say goodbye to you when Ángel suddenly exclaimed, "Oh-uh…”
All three of you turned your heads, concern etching your features.
“Tengo que ir al baño (I have to go to the restroom),” he said anxiously. Typically, he didn't need assistance, but the IV made it complicated to go to the bathroom by himself.
Javi immediately offered, “Lo llevo yo (I’ll take him).” Given your pregnancy, taking care of Ángel was challenging, and Javi didn't want to jeopardize the well-being of all three of you. So Javi had willingly taken over the physical tasks of caring for him. He didn't mind – he loved looking after his son. Besides, he didn't want you walking Jack out, given that he remembered Jack referring to you as his wife. A part of him would always hold some resentment toward Jack, but his priority was his son.
As you focused on helping Ángel with the sheets, Javi approached Jack, his jaw locked, and in a low tone, he leaned in, warning, "If you try anything..." His stern expression and brown eyes bore into Jack's, conveying a clear threat. The warning only reached Jack's ears, and Jack remained silent, reminding himself to behave in front of Ángel.
Javi then forcefully bumped shoulders with Jack as he moved past him to assist Ángel in the restroom. You missed this interaction, and when you eventually glanced at Jack, he was seething. It had been years since you had seen him so angry – precisely nine years, to be exact. Confusion clouded your mind, leaving you standing there, staring at him, and he did the same. Your attention was drawn away from him when Ángel said his final goodbye.
"Let's go," you told Jack and proceeded towards the door.
Jack gives his son one last look and sees Javi guiding him to the restroom inside the hospital room.
With that, Jack is on your heels. You are five steps ahead of Jack. As you walk ahead of him, you find your mind drifting to your relationship with Jack. You classified your relationship with Jack in two phases: pre-engagement and post-engagement. Pre-engagement Jack would lace your hands together every time you were out in public or have his arm wrapped around your waist or shoulder. He wanted everyone to know that you were his, and he was yours.
Post-engagement Jack underwent a drastic transformation. He no longer held you in public, except for that one instance when there was construction on a street that had forced him to help you across a blocked and narrow sidewalk. He also began to walk ahead of you, not just a step or two, but so far that you sometimes had to wait for the traffic light to change and he would be on the other side of the street. After several attempts of trying to catch up with him, you eventually stopped trying to keep up and accepted this new reality.
Now, ironically, the roles had reversed, and you were walking ahead of Jack, with no intention of slowing down once you crossed the skybridge. Jack used long strides to catch up to you. Fortunately, the two of you were the only ones crossing the bridge that connected the children's wing to the parking lot, or else it might appear as if he were following you. Desperately, Jack wished to be by your side and engage in conversation. About what? Anything, really. He wanted to talk about the weather, the stars (something you once loved discussing but which he had grown annoyed with), or even something as random as worms, as long as it led to a conversation. He hoped to make you smile and laugh, even if it meant discussing the most mundane topics. Jack briefly wondered if this was how you had felt during your marriage – always yearning for his presence and conversation. He was already aware of the answer: yes.
As he rounded the corner, he saw you and swiftly pressed the elevator button. The doors opened with a soft ding right in time for Jack to step inside. You promptly pressed the button marked G1, initiating the descent. Jack's mind raced as he desperately sought the right words, knowing he had only a few precious minutes before you returned upstairs. Once you were outside, he finally summoned the courage to speak, but you broke the silence first.
“I’m begging you, Jack, do not flake on this. You heard Ángel's doctor. If you back out while he’s on chemo-”
“Do ya really think I would do that?” Jack's hands went to his waist, his eyebrows furrowing with anger and surprise. “To my own son?” He sounded genuinely shocked that you would even consider such a possibility.
“No...” After a pause, you decided to be honest, “Yes, Jack. I’m sorry if that hurts you, but it's the truth. I don’t know if I trust you. I want to. But I know better. I need to keep my guard up. I can’t risk it, not when Ángel is on the line. I did once, and look how that turned out.”
“Ya think I don't think 'bout that often?” Jack's voice rose. “Okay, I know what I did…” He paused and took a deep breath. “I won’t do that again. I will never abandon him. Ever. I will not fail him again.”
You repeated to yourself, Don't cry, don't cry.
“And you think it was easy for me to forget?” you continued, voice trembling. “I thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together. After you proposed, you... you changed!”
"I remember that once, I dropped off lunch at your office because I got out of work early, and I wished I never left work." The tears welled up in your eyes as you recalled the painful memory. "I was in your building, on my way to your office, when a guard stopped me before I got to the reception. I explained that I was going to drop off food for my husband, and he asked me who I was married to." You continued, “Of course, I said your name, and you know what he said?" Without giving Jack a chance to speak, you added, "He said he was under the impression that your wife had passed away."
The color drained from Jack's face.
"It was so embarrassing, Jack. I didn't know what to say." You covered your eyes with both hands. "He and everyone on the floor thought I was crazy and making shit up." After a moment of silence, you continued, “At least Ginger was there, and she took me away into a hallway. I begged her not to say anything. I just went back home and cried my heart out."
Jack looked like a fish out of water, struggling to find words.
You pointed your index finger at his face and said, "Yeah, do that for like two minutes with a Tupperware of food, and you'll look exactly like me." Your dry laugh turned into a scoff.
"I'm sorry. Jesus, Sugar, I'm so sorry."
You heard the emotion behind his words and snapped, “Oh, don’t you fucking dare cry.” You were furious that he wanted to cry when you were the one who had gone through this. Years ago, you would've never dreamt of him feeling the burden of your pain, one that he had caused. You would've shielded him and shouldered everything, but you had changed too.
“I already cried enough for the both of us,” you add.
That made Jack want to cry more, but he quickly composed himself and fought back the unshed tears.
He comes closer to you, cupping your face in his hand. You shiver. Not because you feel any warm feelings you used to. Quite the opposite; you shiver because his hand is so cold.
"I'm sorry for hurtin’ you, baby," he says sincerely, looking into your eyes.
“Don’t,” you say, smacking his hand away. “Don’t call me that and don’t ever touch me again.” It's as if the palm of his hand gave you a freezer burn.
Suddenly, you hear heavy and hurried footsteps behind you.
From the corner of your eye, you see one of the security guards from the lobby.
“Is there a problem?” the security guard asks.
Jack looks at the guard annoyed as if he interrupted something. “I’m talking with my wife.”
“Oh my God, stop saying that! I’m not your wife!” you exclaim, frustration lacing your voice.
“Ma’am, is this man bothering you?” The security guard is about to intervene, concern evident in his tone.
“No! He was just leaving, sir.” You manage to give the best smile you can muster to the guard, doing your best to reassure him.
Jack, still looking irritated, takes a step back, giving you some space.
You grab Jack’s jacket and spin him around so he could look onto the parking lot. In a hushed voice, you whisper-yell, “Jack, don’t make a scene. If you get in trouble, you won’t be allowed into the hospital, and then Ángel won’t have a donor.” You didn’t know that would happen if the security guard kicked him out, probably not, but you were just saying things to make him leave.
Shit, shit, shit, why do I keep doing this? he asks himself.
“We’ll talk another day, Jack,” you sound deflated.
“Right now I have to get back and explain everything to Ángel since he’s getting surgery tonight,” you say.
That sobered him up.
“Okay. Call me with any updates. Text me too. It don't matter what time.”
You nod and turn to go back to your family.
A/N: I've created an account exclusively for reblogging my writing: @loslentesdepedrito-library . Feel free to follow me there if you'd like to be notified about anything and everything I write!
This is the fastest I've ever created a graphic (even though it took me a week 😳), yay! The next couple of weeks will be busy for me, but I hope to upload the last chapter before the end of the year. I know! I just have a lot to catch up on since I went on sick leave :(
Thank you for reading!
Taglist: @kchavez666 @ttupelohoneyy @mishasminion360 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @stileslvr @pedrostories
#angst#jack daniels x female reader#Jack daniels x reader#agent whiskey x reader#jack daniels angst#jack whiskey daniels#jack daniels x you#kingsman fanfiction#Jack daniels#agent whiskey#no y/n#javier peña#javi peña x female reader#javier peña x you#javi peña x reader#javier peña x female reader#javi peña x you#javier peña x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#tw:sick child#pedro pascal character#narcos fanfiction#loslentesdepedrito's writing#my writing#fic: iyw
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Writing in tags got a ball rolling and I'm thinking more and more about full ghost/bitter babysitter Vlad
Thinking about how Jazz and Danny grew up with ghost hunters as parents and a ghost as an uncle, the types of wrenches it throws into the family's relationships with each other...
Starting with the parents' perspective,
It's easy in the beginning to dismiss the paradoxical nature of ghost hunters having a ghost live with them, The Ghostbusters had Slimer, Fentonworks has V-Man. At the start, their tiny children can see and understand the difference between their friendly uncle Vlad (who at the start, looked like a pathetic wet kitten) and a 'real' dangerous ghost.
It's less easy when you and your old friend wind up in an arms race driven and perpetuated by both rational and irrational fear.
At the start when he looked human and his grudge was apparent but it was shown when he was passive-aggressively doing chores around the house and getting the kids ready for school, it was funny, guilt-trippy, sure, but also helpful. Now that the kids are teenagers and can do their own share of the chores and get themselves ready for school that grudge needs other ways to manifest and he can't break inventions and loom ominously on their bedroom ceiling forever.
"We're not *just* ghost hunters, there's more to our studies than dissection and having Vladdie around makes those other studies easier."
With time, turns into...
"Well, how would we know if our anti ghost forcefields and other ghost proofing gadgets work or not if we didn't have a ghost to test them on?"
With more time, turns into...
"This is the Fenton Ecto-Vaporizer, it turns every ghost caught in its rays into nothing but steam! Well, every ghost except the pesky patient because it grew immune to Blood Blossoms and effect amplifying serums 🙄"
And for the most part 'the ghost haunting our home for decades is immune to our shock collar and we need to make something stronger or he'll rip our spines out of our bodies and wear our skins like coats' is said in jest,
at the end of the day,
during those nights that SHOULD be silent but their guilty consciences make the whispers at the end of the bed recounting the day they not only killed, but dumped their best friend like garbage and fled the state that much louder as the bright red eyes of the vengeful spirit become their unwelcome night light...
They have to ask themselves will he kill them before or after the kids go to college?
From the kids' perspective... where do I even start?
Okay, good news is that they had a good tradeoff with a better childhood, I mean for starters their Christmases were a lot less nasty with Uncle Vlad and I strongly suspect that Little Danny's favorite Christmas story of all time was 'A Christmas Carol' as he'd love the christmas ghosts thanks to knowing his own 'christmas ghosts'.
And both kids grow up knowing that ghosts CAN be good people, they see their uncle lose his outer humanity over the years while they grow up and come to understand that just because a ghost can *look* mean and scary doesn't mean that they *are* mean.
Danny would likely have more 'tools' in his belt other than fighting. Sure, fighting's on the table if need be, but when it comes to different ghosts and their different issues, he'd likely stop and ask himself "Is this ghost who's screaming about a dance in need of a butt-kicking, or is she in need of some help?"
but as teenagers who can see that their family situation is NOT normal...
Jazz knows that there's more to Vlad's tragic story than 'I was really sick and your parents didn't visit me in the hospital :C'. She also knows he's not telling her.
Granted, nobody's really comfortable telling the girl one raised to adulthood that their parents murdered and abandoned them without a second thought,
But the whimsy and charm of 'oh look my uncle's a ghost' is lost when 1. you're not a kid anymore. and 2. getting him to be emotionally honest and upfront with you about his past is like pulling teeth.
Does Danny go to any of the adults when the accident happens? CAN he go to any of the adults when the accident happens?
It's established how he hates the idea of his parents getting a divorce, of losing his family, and at this point in time despite their attempts to hide it in front of him and Jazz, he can pick up that Vlad is not happy with or around his parents who in turn appear more and more uncomfortable with their old friend.
He knows that his mom and dad can put up with ghosts if they absolutely need to, but how will they take knowing that HE'S a ghost?
And how will Uncle Vlad himself take it?
He can trust him to teach him everything he knows about being a ghost, but at the same time, he's grown up watching Vlad destroy any and all inventions his parents make that seem too dangerous to them, so what would he do to his parents if he knew that 'their negligence killed him'?
#danny phantom#vlad masters#vlad plasmius#jack fenton#maddie fenton#danny fenton#jazz fenton#bitter babysitter au
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I’ve seen you talk lots about Steve’s parents and i was wondering if you had any thoughts on Robins parents and how her and her parents dynamic as well as Steve and his parents dynamic could play into their friendship.
I am aware how they’re portrayed in Rebel Robin, but the books are not canon and was wondering if you had any further thoughts?
robin’s parents are also very fun to me!! i don’t have proper decided upon names for them like i do for the harrington’s. but i think in the book mrs b is called melissa? and mr b is called richard, which i think is funny lmao. so i kinda subscribe to those being their names.
now, i love the buckley’s being hippies. like they’re vegetarian, they spent robin’s childhood living in a van, she calls them by their names instead of mom and dad.
i think they accidentally joined a cult at one point, after which they moved to hawkins. for a bit more of a stable childhood for robin. i think they’re judged a lot around the neighbourhood, which makes it harder for them, but they love robin, and they want her to get as many advantages in life as she can. and robin is so bright. they know they can’t homeschool her if they want her to reach her full potential.
i think they’re very loving and affectionate, kinda the opposite of the harrington’s in that way lmao. and i think they’re very loving to robin. maybe she almost feels stifled a bit. i don’t think robin’s ever really had any best friends before steve, so she hung out with her parents a lot growing up. doing puzzles and helping in the garden. they would absolutely be supportive of robin being a lesbian (homophobic buckley’s my beloathed), but she still doesn’t tell them till she’s ready, once they’ve all gotten out of hawkins.
i think because of her parents, she really dislikes steve’s parents lmao. she can see from outside the affect their dynamic had on steve, whereas steve is more stuck in it. she jokes that steve’s dad is far more of the “dick” than robin’s is (because both are named richard lol).
robin will always be a dick harrington hater. number one!!! it takes steve a few more years to catch up to her in that regard. because he hates his dad, but he’s also his dad, you know? and i think steve’s parents are actually a source of strife within stobin. at least in the early years of their friendship. robin wishes steve would just cut and run, and steve sticks up for his parents when robin gets a little too into shit talking them, which can bubble up into arguments. not big ones, but they definitely have to take a bit of space after.
neither of them have stereotypical parents, but i think robin’s parents go against the grain almost in the same way that stobin’s friendship does. most people don’t get it, but it’s healthy and they love each other. so robin’s friendship with steve, it’s everything she’s ever wanted. it’s the kind of relationship she dreamed about as a lonely kid. whereas steve had a lot more of an unhealthy dynamic to look up to, so i do think he kinda romanticised a future with a partner where they never argued and they were always happy etc. and obviously real life isn’t like that. but i do think steve interacting with robin’s parents and seeing them interact with each other, it, like, heals something within him.
anyway, when stobin get lavender married the buckley’s are beside themselves with joy. they love steve. and they’re so excited to become parental figures for him (it’s a position they have to battle for with claudia. it gets bloody (they decide to split christmases)). they know it’s just a lavender marriage, but hey, they’re not very fucking conventional either!
#robin buckley#steve harrington#stobin#robin buckley’s parents#steve harrington’s parents#stranger things#asks#thenamesophiaisalreadytaken
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so. it's been a few months. OOPS. the creative juices have not been flowing lately BUT WE ARE SO BACK. and getting festive!! today we're decorating for christmas with our beloved infinite blue boys. this one won't be full fics but more so thoughts strung together. throwing my brain at my computer screen and seeing what sticks type beat. shoutout to itsu for the art that made me go insane abt the boys and desperate to write smth again. also shoutout to ito for listening to me ramble my thoughts aloud. always a pleasure to brainrot with u. determined to try and get back to regular writing but we shall see how that goes LMAO. for now enjoy christmas decorating gamers WOOOO.
♡ leo ♡
Leo gets SO excited for Christmas time. He loves seeing the neighbourhood lit up with strings of lights and bright displays of festivity. He's not one to hold back either with his own decorations. Leo has built up a rather eclectic collection of decorations and baubles for his Christmas tree, most of them being movie references or themed. Stormtrooper wearing a Santa hat, a resin hanging decoration made to look like a stack of Lord of the Rings books, that sort of thing. He excitedly asks what sort of fun decorations you own or want to get because he wants the tree to match both of your interests. Definitely surprises you with a few that he thinks you'll like, barely able to contain himself. Leo is bad at keeping presents a surprise. He just loves seeing how excited you get!! Very much the embodiment of golden retriever boyfriend. Always. I can see Leo also having some decorations with sentimental value too. Like this one bauble he painted as a kid that's definitely not the prettiest mix of colours, but it brings back memories of childhood and excitedly trying to stay up late to see Santa leaving presents behind. He LOVES good christmas tradition too. Every Christmas Eve he's watching the same movie (probably Home Alone) with an array of snacks laid out to enjoy. He loves getting to share it all with you too as well as starting new traditions for future Christmases together. For example, this year he dumped strips of coloured paper on the floor, put his Christmas playlist on, and declared you were both making paper chains and paper snowflakes to hang around the house with the tinsel already on display. There's no such thing as too many decorations in Leo's world so I hope you're prepared for your home to look like a festive spirit exploded in every room. Bonus note he also owns sets of festive pyjamas specifically for December and will only wear these. If it's not Christmas related he isn't touching it. Also owns slippers made to look like reindeer.
♡ milo ♡
Milo might just be the worst one to decorate for Christmas with. He's never really been overly fussed about buying decorations or a tree and has literally nothing of the sort at home. He hadn't even considered the thought that you might want to indulge a little and spend a day or two putting up lights or finding a tree for your shared living room. When you do mention the idea to him, Milo is somewhat surprised, but will nod along that sure you can get a tree. Will suggest you buy one of those pop-up trees that comes with the ornaments already attached because it's easier and will only take a couple minutes to set up and put into place. It takes a lot of convincing to sway him away from that idea. He doesn't seem to realise that half the fun is spending hours fighting the tangled mess of lights, or finding that one specific ornament you bought a few years ago just to hang front and centre on the tree. Will only agree to it if you promise to buy him an early Christmas present too. Bribery is a wonderful tool for convincing Milo to join in all the traditional couple behaviours and outings. He'll enjoy it once he's there and sees how much you're enjoying yourself, but will make a point to complain about the weather, or that he's getting bored looking at different variations of the same lights. His boredom is easily cured by a request to get food before heading home. Once you're home, he offers to reach all the tallest parts you can't reach, but not before making a smug joke about how you only asked him to help because you wanted the extra pair of hands. At the end of it all, he'll be stood behind you, arms enclosed around you and pulling your back against his chest. Will rest his chin atop your head and admit that yes, he had a lot of fun today and yes he will do it again next year. Offers to take you out again next weekend to go ice skating or put together gingerbread houses. Just as long as you don't make him wear one of those awful Christmas jumpers Leo sent a picture of himself wearing the other day. You don't make any promises.
♡ rory ♡
Ever the hopeless romantic, Rory equally adores and despises this time of year. He loves the romanticism of the festive atmosphere, the twinkling fairy lights, the decadence of the food. He's secretly been craving the chance to share it all with someone else. But he would never admit to it. Which is also the cause for his self-proclaimed hatred of the holiday season. He likes to lament about how so much of it is commercialised and specifically catered to couples wanting an excuse to show off how cute they are. He'll acutely ignore the fact that you came home to him watching one of those cheesy Netflix Christmas rom-coms. The type where a prince gets isekaied into the suburbs of New York and falls in love with generic city woman. Will try to hide his face in the neckline of his sweater while you set down boxes of decorations to dress up the room. Claims he wants no part of it and acts all indifferent to your enthusiasm, though it is blatantly evident on his face that he actually means the exact opposite. So you get to hanging baubles from the tree, singing along to Christmas songs as they chime from the speakers. It's when you notice Rory stand up, eyes flickering from you, to the tree, to the floor, that you ask if he would like to give you a hand. Will say no, but you should move that one ornament a bit higher up. It will look better there. Or maybe add a different coloured one there to brighten up that section. Pass a box of ornaments to him and tell him that if he's going to comment on your decorating then he better just do it himself. Rory acts as though this is some large inconvenience but within minutes he's quietly singing along under his breath, a rosy colour staining his cheeks. Pull out some mistletoe and watch him turn an even brighter red. Do it I dare u. And once the room is sufficiently dressed up for Christmas, Rory will collapse back on the sofa, shyly admitting how much he loved spending the time with you as you burrow into the warmth of his side. Will get a little flustered but tries to play it cool until you tease him about finishing the rom-com you caught him watching earlier. Goes to push you away but immediately pulls you back in. Maybe he can be a little more affectionate than usual today. Maybe.
♡ alexei ♡
Alexei doesn't usually decorate a whole lot around the festive season. It's not for a lack of wanting to, nor does he dislike it at all, but rather he just never felt like he had a reason to before. For him, Christmas always felt like a very family-oriented time of year so after he moved out, the thought simply never occurred to him that he could go out and buy a tree and ornaments, even just for his desk at work. When you pose the idea to him to get your home all decorated up for the season, Alexei's interest is piqued. He will scroll for ideas on how to pick a colour theme and will get really into the colour ratio of the baubles too. He lines the tree with golden fairy lights and makes sure the balance of red and green baubles is even. Makes sure to find tinsel that matches the exact shades as well so it doesn't look mismatched at all. It's really rather cute how focused he'll get over it, eyebrows furrowed and this tiny little crease in his forehead. Stands with a look a pure concentration in the way his eyes are surveying the tree from top to bottom, his finger tapping against his lip while you watch from your spot on the sofa sipping a hot chocolate Alexei made for you. You tried to tell him he doesn't need to take it so seriously with the way he's alternating between different coloured baubles but your voice falls on deaf ears. He'll stand back to admire his handiwork, looking to you for excitable approval. Once he deems it good enough, Alexei will lay down, his head just beneath the tree, and he'll gesture for you to join him. He feels all tired out after a day of decorating and has a distinct urge to nap under the tree like a cat. Will sleepily ramble about how he's been looking forward to spending the holiday with you, how he's excited to try all these new things and start ned traditions with you until eventually his eyes betray him and they blink slower and slower and he's falling asleep in your arms.
♡ brooklyn ♡
Brooklyn's home on Christmas is a sight to behold. The man knows how to decorate no matter what the occasion may be. He always loves to make a day of it too. Expect him to wake you up with a cup of tea, already dressed in a cosy Christmas sweater with his hair unstyled and a little messy. Winter Brooklyn is a delight for the eyes. Especially when he's got a hand-knitted scarf bundled around his neck and matching gloves warming his hands. Drives you to a local Christmas tree farm he always visits on the first weekend of December every year without fail. The owners know him by name at this point and are particularly excited to see he has company this year. His hand is entwined in yours as you wander around, talking and musing together over which tree would fit best. If it's snowing, expect Brooklyn to flick a snow-covered branch at you, a dusting of cold powder freckling your cheeks. Will laugh but lets you throw a snowball at him as payment for the attack. Once you pick out the perfect tree, Brooklyn takes you to a local Christmas market to pick out some new decorations. He has a rather rigorous theme he likes to stick to but wants to add something meaningful to signify the two of you—especially with this being your first Christmas together. He tries not to go too overboard and is only stopped by the sight of a stall offering decadent mugs of hot chocolate. Once you're back home and in the warm, Brooklyn is lighting the fireplace, along with a few festive themed candles, and rolling up his sleeves. It's at this point you see just how serious he is about Christmas decorating. And it certainly pays off because once you're both done, the tree looks like someone opened pinterest, found the most visually pleasing tree and managed to extract it and place it directly in your living room. Brooklyn looks very pleased with himself as you praise his well thought out planning. Ends the day with a surprise gift for you because his family always had a tradition of giving a gift on Christmas tree day and he wants to keep that going with you. Is generally just the embodiment of Christmas rom-com love interest with how perfect he makes the day turn out to be.
♡ tobias ♡
Decorating with Tobias is so unbelievably chaotic. There is no rhyme or reason to the scattering of ornaments all over the floor. Decorations are everywhere except where they are supposed to be. He claims he's got a strategy but you're not so certain. He also doesn't really bother with any particular colour theming and just picks out what he thinks looks cool. Loves to have a range of different shapes and colours for the ornaments. Also buys a string of multicoloured flashing lights to drape around the tree because 'regular white lights are boring'. Tobias doesn't care too much about whether you put up a plastic tree or a real one, that is until he sees Brooklyn post a photo of his own Christmas tree on instagram and suddenly Tobias wants to buy a real tree too and make it look as aesthetically pleasing as possible. So he's dragging you out into the cold to go and buy one. Finds his idea of the perfect tree after a good hour of deliberating over which one looks best. Wants one that's got a good shape to it and has plenty of branches. In doing so, however, he very much overestimates how big his car is and how big his apartment is. Drives home with the top of the tree sticking between the seats it's basically sitting on the passenger seat with you. And then there's getting it into his apartment. It's just a little bit too tall so the top of the tree is bent over a little against the ceiling. Tobias rejects your idea to buy a saw and cut the trunk down because surely you can just trim to top, right? No, Tobias, you cannot. Ends up deciding to bend it so the top is angled down a little since you won't let him take the kitchen scissors to it. You're about to attempt to put the star on top until Tobias stops you, claiming he needs to make some adjustments before it goes up. Runs into the bedroom and returns like five minutes later with the star but now it has a picture of his face taped onto the front. Reaches up to put it on the tree but because it's a little too tall, the star is angled down so it looks like star Tobias is watching over like some cursed angelic watchman. Leo is very unsettled when he comes over to visit.
#infinite blue#infinite blue x reader#infinite blue fanfic#infinite blue alexei#infinite blue rory#infinite blue brooklyn#infinite blue leo#infinite blue milo#infinite blue tobias#WE ARE SO BACK#IT HAS BEEN A MINUTE BUT IM NOT GONE YET#LIKE AN ANNOYING RASH I JUST KEEP COMING BACK#festive edition#mars writes
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Secret Christmas Gift 3
This is the third secret gift story. This one is for @xbalayage and was actually the inspiration behind this endeavor. I was stuck on a lot of my wips and thought I want to put something out to clear my head then thought ehh do a Silvio story at least xbalayage will read it and then I expanded it to a few other people and it became this secret story gift idea. I hope you enjoy it and Merry early Christmas and Happy New Year!
Decorating Mishap
Christmas time had come again and Emma had decided this year she wanted to try doing something with Silvio from her childhood Christmases, but she never would of imagined she'd end up like this. It started earlier that day in the kitchen…
Rio: How can you be so bad at this? I mean children do this all the time.
Silvio: Shut up!
Emma: Rio.
Silvio made a face at Rio and Emma rolled her eyes at him. Just then the walls of Silvio’s gingerbread house collapsed in on themselves again.
Silvio: Damn it, this is dumb.
Silvio flopped down onto a stool with an agitated look on his face.
Rio: I don't think it's dumb.
Silvio: Oh ya?
Silvio reached out to swipe at Rio's house as Rio wrapped his arms around it protectively.
Emma: Silvio stop it.
Emma reached out grabbing Silvio's wrist and he jerked his hand back.
Silvio: I keep tellin you to warn me before you do that!
Emma: And I keep telling you to get used to it! Rio worked really hard on his house so leave him alone.
This time it was Rio's turn to make a face at Silvio which caused his brother to glare at him.
Emma: It's ok we can decorate mine together, that's just as fun as doing your own.
Silvio: I guess.
Silvio stood up from his seat and walked over to Emma. They started decorating her gingerbread house together but soon it had devolved into the brothers fighting for Emma's attention then just plain old fighting.
And so Emma now found herself in the kitchen standing between the two covered in icing, sprinkles and candy while the Queen stood there in front of them with a dignified smile.
Queen Lidia: So this is what you three have been up to all afternoon. They're so cute, I take it this is a Rhodolitian activity?
Emma: Yes, I made them every Christmas as a child. I showed Rio his first Christmas in Rhodolite and thought it would be fun to make some again this year with Silvio.
Queen Lidia's smile never faltered as she inspected the two gingerbread houses on the counter. It was clear they had fallen victim to the squabbling brothers much like Emma herself.
Rio: I wish you could of seen mine before Silvio got his hands on it.
Silvio: Hey! You're the one that messed ours up first.
Emma let out a defeated sigh and Queen Lidia covered her mouth to hold back her laughter.
Queen Lidia: Silvio I believe Carlos brought some paperwork to your room if you could take a look at it please and Valerio would you mind going over the current progress of this year's party for me please?
Silvio and Rio took the hint that the Queen wanted to be alone with Emma.
Silvio: Ya sure.
Rio: Of course, anything you need.
As soon as Silvio and Rio left the kitchen Emma collapsed on a stool letting out a long sigh and Queen Lidia burst out laughing.
Queen Lidia: Oh Emma my dear you look utterly spent.
Emma: I'm still not entirely sure how it all got so out of hand! I'm convinced they're just overgrown children at this point
.Queen Lidia: Of course they are, Alfios the same you know. I'm willing to bet that you had an enormous amount of fun though.
Emma looked up at the Queen and absolutely beamed.
Emma: It was a lot of fun actually, I just wish I wasn't covered in all this mess.
Queen Lidia walked over to stand at Emma's side and gave her a coy smile.
Queen Lidia: Well now this is where the rest of the fun happens. I'm quite sure Silvio will be easy enough to convince to help you wash up instead of doing that paperwork.
Queen Lidia gave a blushing Emma a teasing smile as she helped her up from the stool and shooed her out the door.
#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikemen prince silvio#ikemen prince rio#ikepri silvio#ikepri rio#silvio ricci#rio ortiz#ikepri emma
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CHARACTER ASK GAME
Pete "Maverick" Mitchell + 21, 24 and 25?
✨ send me a number and a character! ✨
21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?
i actually already answered this question here, so i will give an honorary mention for this ask, in addition: i am a big fan of the whole tgm-mav-lowkey-being-the-daggers'-friends'-cool-dad trope. like. the idea that they get to know him after the mission and he's obviously taken a genuine interest in all of them and their wellbeing so they all just...stay in touch. the idea that the call and check up on him when they know rooster is deployed, that they start to leave a few extra things at mav's place because he usually hosts their squad movie nights and it's just easier to crash there sometimes, that they realize he doesn't have many people to spend the holidays with now outside of obviously bradley, and they all come together and drag him to a surprise christmas party with them before they go on their own leave for their respective family christmases. that's their emotional support old navy captain and if u wanna mess w him u gotta get thru 11 daggers and 1 son first so good luck!!!
that being said, tho, it can go too far i think, if we're not careful. barring a couple specific circumstances (jake and whatever fucked up childhood/non-existent parental relationships he has had comes to mind) the daggers all have families of their own, and entire lives before meeting mav. i don't think he's like. their DAD per se. he's their friends' cooler than expected dad ('your dad is an ace? that's so cool! i wonder if he has any stories to tell us! he once flipped off a mig while inverted? THATS SO COOL') that they can become friends with and look out for too, and i KNOW he'll be looking out for them. if they need anything he's right there, because that is within his nature. but for the most part, they're all adults who have friendships, and not like. Extra Children. if you know what i mean. except for jake idk i think he needs a role model or something but i guess that makes mav a secret third thing to him idk
24. what other character from another fandom reminds you of them?
oof that is tough!! i think that on most levels, mav is very different from the characters in other fandoms that i have imprinted on the most, so i'm not going to be able to do a 1:1 comparison here. but believe it or not the very first character that came to mind for me is ezra standish from the magnificent seven tv series, and it's not an exact match but i'm just going to provide my presentation on the matter (i am specifically comparing tg86 mav with ezra bc i have no one to compare tgm mav with lol):
horrible quality images (yes i did make these gifs but theyre very old so lets not talk about it lol) bc this is an obscure 1990s b-budget tv show shot on vhs probably. but this guy right here is either the second or third youngest member of his found family group (the seven ~lawmen~ a local circuit judge hires to manage an old west territory because it's so dangerous the sheriff and deputy he'd previously appointed ran out on the job). he's very accomplished at what he does, for his age, and has had way too many shitty life experiences and is much too world-weary already. everyone who works with him comes into it with a preconceived notion of how he's going to be. and how could they not? it isn't that the other six guys are short-sighted in assuming, exactly. ezra is direct about who he is and what he stands for, downright in your face about it, actually. you expect him to be kind of an arrogant asshole, and he tells you he's gonna be one. and then, for a while anyway, he kind of is.
loner type, doesn't need anyone, he's going to do everything his way because he knows best, needlessly theatrical about it in the process. they expect him to run out on them during their battle, and he does.... kind of. but he also comes through for them in a critical moment when he's needed most and they least expect him to do it, single-handedly taking out multiple enemies to save their lives. immediately, he adopted into the group, essentially, but ezra doesn't know enough about really having friends to recognize that it's happening until much later. additionally, his entire life and livelihood is overshadowed by his mother (who can be seen sitting in the bg of the larger gif), who is still very much alive, in his case, but whose actions and words define him, whether he wants them to or not. he had a shitty childhood bouncing between a hundred strangers' and distant family members' homes alike and is just overflowing with abandonment issues, and he expects the other six to give up on him at the drop of a hat, but they never do.
25. what was your first impression of this character? how about now?
the very first time i ever saw top gun was before tgm was ever a thing. i remember my favorite character being goose (isnt he always tho <3) and thinking mav was kind of a bland action hero guy with a story arc i did not understand at all or care about. i was like fifteen, tho, and hadn't seen hardly any movies or tv shows at the time because i had a kind of weird sheltered from media sort of childhood, so i don't think i had rly learned HOW to watch and interpret media and characters yet, tbh. when the sequel was coming out i rewatched top gun with my partner in preparation bc my parents were making me watch the new one, and they had never seen it. i was like oh !!! he's smol and traumatized. i bet there's fic about him and that blonde guy. i should look that up later. and then we watched tgm and that was it for me. i was like never mind him and that blonde guy i need to know if hIS RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS SON TURNS OUT OK......MY HEART..... and that was that lol. my dna has not been the same since <3
#star unasks#daffodilstark#TYSM FOR THE ASK !!! and for giving me a platform to/putting up w me going off about my mega obscure blorbo ezra standish. im love him#hes not a one to one for mav but probably the closest option i could think of if you only talk about the highlights that are similar lol.#asks are so much fun thank u for sending them ily <3<3#mine#top gun#stars scribbles
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Monty’s thirtieth birthday on October 15, 1914 was at first not a very happy occasion on account of him turning, well, thirty. Which, in his eyes, was very old. But Henry knew how to make this day very special...
When they reached the library, Henry stopped and turned round, meeting the shining brown gaze which darted from his smiling face to the closed door behind him. One hand on the door handle, the other gently took Monty’s, pulling him in for a tender kiss. “Well, here we are. Close your eyes.”
Curious beyond measure, Monty obeyed. His heart started to beat faster the moment Henry drew away to guide him inside. “I’m not looking!” Monty assured quickly, pressing his free hand to his eyes for good measure. He felt a tad silly, but somehow it was exciting as well. A hundred of guesses flew through his head, and it did remind him of Christmases from his childhood. Tempted to lift the hand and peek at the room, Monty only pressed it firmer. “I didn’t realise our library is so large!” he commented jokingly, and the next second he felt that Henry came to a stop. “Is that it?” Monty removed his hand, but kept his eyes closed, ready to open them this very second. “Can I?..”
Henry eyed the biggest present of them all (for indeed there were several) by the bay window, illuminated by the morning light, and his grin widened. It had been tricky to get all four feet of it up to the attic and out again, but it was worth it for Monty’s reaction. Making sure it was right in his line of sight and therefore the first thing he saw, he nodded and stood behind him, speaking softly in his ear. “Yes, you can now, my love.”
As soon as Monty’s eyes opened they widened at the totally unexpected sight. A cute tall giraffe with a red scarf was standing in front of him. For a brief moment he even thought the giraffe was alive. “Is that... Oh dear, you remembered our visit to the zoo.” He laughed, delighted and tickled by Henry’s idea. Just a couple of months ago Monty was positively enamoured by a giraffe at the Los Angeles zoo, and Henry of course remembered this. “Henry, you have surpassed yourself! Oh god, it can move around!” Monty rushed to the giraffe which was nearly as tall as him, and when he touched the long felt neck, he looked at Henry in absolute joy and elation. “It’s so soft! Almost like a real thing.” Another bewildered look at the toy. “And look at this scarf! He’s adorable!” Monty saw how Henry was beaming and chuckled. “What a present for one’s thirtieth birthday! Oh, I adore him, thank you!” Probably forgetting that there should be other presents, Monty caressed the giraffe’s side and then went to plant a sound kiss on Henry’s lips. “I think he should look perfect in this library. So wonderfully eccentric!”
“We can be even more eccentric together!” Henry pronounced, glowing at Monty’s kiss and how delighted he was with the giraffe. “You looked so happy with the giraffe in Los Angeles, I thought you’d like to have a little one with us at home.” The photograph he had taken of his husband at the zoo there was displayed on the shelves, added soon after their fabulous trip to Hawaii. “The scarf is such a lovely touch, isn’t it? The lady at the shop insisted he should have one because it’ll be winter soon and of course, I agreed!”
“Oh, how thoughtful of her!” Monty exclaims, already flitting back to the giraffe to have a better look at him. “These ears! Isn’t he cute? How on earth did you get him upstairs?!”“With a lot of huffing and puffing, I can tell you. I’m glad he's found a home here in our library, I must admit!” Giving Monty time to get acquainted with his new friend, Henry Henry retrieved their camera to photograph his lover. In his dressing gown and pyjamas, he really did look like an excited boy at Christmas, just sans the Christmas tree and decorations. “You look adorable with him, my love.”
[Art by Veresk]
#art#oc art#art tag#ocs#edwardian era#1910s#historical fiction#queer fiction#gay art#vintage toys#monty and henry#stories and scenes#blog: arts
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- Merry Christmas -
AN: I wanted to write more about Kid Scorpius - you know before the world came crashing down in him.
-
Draco was sleeping peacefully snoring lightly his wife wrapped in him arms. That was until he was attacked. "DADDY MOMMY WAKE UP SANTA WAS HERE!! HE LEFT GIFTS AND - AND-" Draco groaned into his pillow. " Uggggh Scorpius it's too early for this" He said groggily as he felt Astoria sit up beside him. " I told you he was gonna do this didn't I?- Scropius please stop jumping on the bed go ask the house elf's for some breakfast. I'll wake your father up and we'll be down for presents by the time you're done okay?" She said shooing the boy out of the room. " Alright! " He heard the boy say as the door closed. Draco sat up " I think you just bought us ten minutes " The blonde muttered leaving his warm bed and dragging himself over to his closet. He felt a pair of arms wrap around him " he's 7 dear of course he's excited for Christmas just because you had a bad childhood doesn't mean he does." Draco sighed " I know- I know I'm quite proud of my son's happiness, but I'm still worried about how many happy Christmases he has left. With your curse -" His wife cut him off with a kiss. " None of that. Today is a day of happiness and joy. Now put on your ugly sweater." Draco gasped " me? In that- you're kidding." His wife giggled " come on we do this every year. Put it on." Draco mumbled something about his dignity but put on the sweater anyway. They both walked down the stairs where Scorpius ran up to them. " Mom Dad! Look!!" He said pointing to the gifts under the tree. Draco and Astoria sat on the couch. Their elf Nibbles handed him a cup of coffee. He sipped it as Scropius opened his gifts yelling in excitement with each one he unwrapped. Astoria leaned into him " Merry Christmas Draco " He kissed his wife. " Merry Christmas Astoria I love you so much. "EEWWWW stop that!" Scropius said jumping onto the couch. Astoria laughed at her son " now Scorpius one of these days you gonna love someone just as much and then you'll want to kiss them too ." Scropius faked gagged. " No, I'm gonna be single forever!!" Draco rolled his eyes. " Sure we'll see" He said before looking over at the gifts " wow is that a telescope?" Scropius grabbed the box and held it up. " Yeah! Now I can see the stars!" He said. Draco began to tell Scorpius about the constellations their family was named after. Astoria looked at her two nerds with all the love in the world.
#harry potter#scorpius malfoy#albus severus potter#harry potter next generation#Draco Malfoy#astora greengrass#astoria malfoy
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Every year, there’s a pop-culture debate about whether some movies that aren’t about Christmas, like Die Hard and Catch Me If You Can are actually “Christmas movies.” I think it depends on how the movie makes the viewer feel. If it gives you those vibes, then by golly, it is a Christmas movie.
I think a lot of readers tend to associate The Secret History with autumn, which makes perfect sense, but for me, it’s a winter’s tale---and that puts it firmly in the category of Christmas books. So in the spirit of the season, here’s an excerpt, abridged for the holidays, of one of my favorite parts of the story. Because The Secret History isn’t just a winter’s tale but a Winter tale, if you know what I mean.
Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all!
************
Christmas came and went without notice, except that with no work and everything closed there was no place to go to get warm except, for a few hours, to church. I came home afterwards and wrapped myself in my blanket and rocked back and forth, ice in my very bones, and thought of all the sunny Christmases of my childhood---oranges, bikes and Hula Hoops, green tinsel sparkling in the heat. Around the second week of January I got a postcard from Rome, no return address. It was a photograph of the Primaporta Augustus: beside it, Bunny had drawn a surprisingly deft cartoon of himself and Henry in Roman dress (togas, little round eyeglasses) squinting off curiously in the direction indicated by the statue’s outstretched arm. (Caesar Augustus was Bunny’s hero; he had embarrassed us all by cheering loudly at the mention of his name during the reading of the Bethlehem story from Luke 2 at the literature division’s Christmas party. “Well, what of it,” he said, when we tried to shush him. “All the world shoulda been taxed.”) Late one afternoon, as it was getting dark, I looked down into the empty courtyard and was startled to see that a dark, motionless figure had materialized under the lamp, standing with its hands in the pockets of its dark overcoat and looking up at my window. It was shadowy and heavy snow was falling: “Henry?” I said, and squeezed my eyes shut until I saw stars. When I opened them again, I saw nothing but snow whirling in the bright cone of emptiness beneath the light. It was Friday, and Dr. Roland was going to be out of town until the following Wednesday. For me, that meant four days in the warehouse, and even in my clouded state it was clear I might freeze to death for real. When Commons closed I started for home. The snow was deep, and before long my legs to the knees were prickling and numb. Everything in East Hampden was dark and deserted, even the Boulder Tap; the only light for miles around seemed to be the light shimmering around the pay phone in front. I had about thirty dollars in my pocket, more than enough to call a taxi to take me to the Catamount Motel. I had one more quarter in my pocket; it was my last one. I took off my gloves and groped in my pocket with my numbed fingers. Finally I found it, and had it in my hand and was about to bring it up to the slot, when suddenly it slipped from my fingers and I pitched forward after it, hitting my forehead on the sharp corner of the metal tray beneath the phone. I managed to get up on all fours. I saw a dark spot on the snow. The quarter was gone. I made it up the stairs, half walking, half on my hands and knees. Blood was trickling down my forehead. I pushed the workshop door open with my shoulder and began to fumble for the light switch when suddenly I saw something by the window that made me reel with shock. A figure in a long black overcoat was standing motionless across the room by the windows, hands clasped behind the back; near one of the hands I saw the tiny glow of a cigarette coal. “Henry?” I said at last, my voice scarcely more than a whisper. He let the cigarette fall from his fingers and took a step towards me. It really was him---damp, ruddy cheeks, snow on the shoulders of his overcoat. “Good God, Richard,” he said, “what’s happened to you?” It was as much surprise as I ever saw him show. I reached for the door frame, and the next thing I knew I was falling, and Henry had jumped forward to catch me. He eased me onto the floor and took off his coat and spread it over me like a blanket. “Where did you come from?” I said. “I left Italy early.” He was brushing the hair back from my forehead. I saw blood on his fingertips. “Some little place I’ve got here, huh?” I said, and laughed. “Yes,” he said brusquely. Then he bent to look at my head again.
#the secret history#henry winter#richard papen#christmas reading#christmas#dark academia#donna tartt
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obligatory scotfra but also engspa??
Gives nose/forehead kisses: Alasdair (because Fran couldn't reach if he wanted to...okay maybe if Aly is sitting down)
Gets jealous the most: Alasdair. I think it comes from a mix of insecurity and possessiveness. Mostly the latter. He does not like to share ajsjdjs he will maybe give the odd threesome a go because rarely can he say no to Francis (and Fran stops suggesting them once he realises how much it bums Alasdair out) but in general he can't stand the thought of Francis with anyone else and he is not afraid to mark his territory. I think especially when he's drunk he gets real handsy and overzealous with the PDA because he needs everyone to know that Fran belongs to him.
Takes care of on sick days: I think they'd take care of each other in different ways. Fran would be so dramatic when he's ill 'im dying' etc 😭 he just wants someone to pamper him, cue Alasdair who will do anything in his power to make sure Fran is comfortable. Alasdair, on the other hand, is one of those people who can't admit when they're sick and will literally not stop until he drops at which point Francis will coddle and kiss him and nurse him back to health whilst also making sure to tell him off for not taking care of himself.
Drags the other person out into the water on beach day: Francis, I don't think an explanation is needed ajsjdks
Brings the other lunch at work: Francis. Again, no explanation needed, he loves cooking for his man 💖
Tries to start role-playing in bed: *tries* being the keyword here ajsjdjs I think Aly would try anything for Fran at least once and vice versa ofc but Fran is definitely the one to initiate most of their raunchier bedroom explorations.
Embarrassingly drunk dancer: It would take many, MANY drinks but I think if you get enough alcohol in him, Alasdair will crack out some of the most embarrassing dad dance movies you've ever seen.
Firmly believes in couples costumes: at first only Francis but he quickly shows Alasdair the light and disgustingly romantic together every Halloween. They never miss an opportunity to be disgustingly romantic on Halloween or at a costume party.
Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas: Francis. Christmases, birthdays, weddings, baby showers, Tuesday nights ajsjdjs my man will take any given opportunity to shower people with gifts. Much to Alasdair's chagrin, his husband's love language is apparently expensive gift giving.
Makes the other eat breakfast: see, I think Fran obviously loves making and preparing food for other people but then will neglect himself (also food issues asjdkfk) so usually Alasdair will be the one who has to remind Fran to eat something himself.
Remembers anniversaries: Fran is a scatterbrain, actually. I think he is the type of person who buys gifts in advance, like if he sees something that reminds him of someone, and then keeps them all locked away in his wardrobe. So then when Alasdair greets him unexpectedly with a "happy anniversary, mo chridhe" he can whip out the antique kilt pin he saw three months ago or the set of golf clubs that were on sale.
Brings up having kids first: in my mind, it's Alasdair. And if it's omegaverse then definitely Alasdair ajsjdkss. I think he would look back on his childhood with a big family and lots of siblings fondly and want that for his own kids. But I also see Fran as an only child so in some aus as a compromise I can see them having three kids. Unless lil baby Mattie is their lovechild of course then I think he'd be their only child.
Kills the bugs: catches them in a jar and takes them far enough away that Francis stops screaming.
First to define them as a couple: okay this one is so hard because part of me knows that Fran is a lot more open than Alasdair with his romantic side BUTT if you've read the FTF series (my canon) then you will know how turbulent their relationship is and so I think they'd both be slightly reluctant to admit their feelings for each other or define anything but because I love the series so much and honeslty can't see it happening any other way, I think Alasdair is the catalyst that starts the beginning of their relationship. Once it's begun though and they grow comfortable and used to each other's idiosyncrasies, I think that Francis would be the one to define it because he knows Alasdair well enough to realise he's too nervous to do it himself.
Who hides their guilty pleasures longer: Alasdair. Fran doesn't know the meaning of the words guilt and shame ajdjdjsj I dont think he believes in the phrase 'guilty pleasure' if it brings him pleasure, why would he feel guilty about it? Alasdair on the other hand is probably ashamed of like 90% of the things he does (with Francis' help we can get that down to like at least 30%)
Snorts while laughing: Francis.
🌸🌸🌸
I don't have much experience with Engspa but I will try my best 🩷
Gives nose/forehead kisses: I think this definitely seems like a Toni thing 💗
Gets jealous the most: Arthur, probably. Sad insecure, anxious little man - he can't help it :(
Takes care of on sick days: I think Arthur, just like his brother, has a problem with overworking which leaves Toni to look after him.
Drags the other person out into the water on beach day: I think this is just as obvious as with scotfra but Toni. I think it's so easy to imagine RT chan, in his oversized t shirt, being dragged to the beach reluctantly and god forbid he has to take a dip in the sea 😩
Brings the other lunch at work: this also seems like a Toni thing.
Tries to start role-playing in bed: we all know Arthur is a kinky little shit beneath all that and tweed.
Embarrassingly drunk dancer: Arthur, for sure.
Firmly believes in couples costumes: Toni but I think he'd get Arthur into them. Arthur would be all like "this is silly" and then like 5 days after Halloween be like "okay so what are we going as next year?"
Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas: I think if you've made an agreement of any sort with Arthur and then break it, he'd get so flustered. So for his sake, neither of them.
Makes the other eat breakfast: Arthur is absolutely the type of guy to forget to eat, bless him.
Remembers anniversaries: Arthur is also the type of guy to forget anniversaries I think so he makes sure to write everything down meticulously (and still probably ends up forgetting somehow ajsksks)
Brings up having kids first: hmm I'm not sure. I can see either of them doing it but I suppose since Arthur is shy maybe Toni?
Kills the bugs: hmmm Arthur? He'd just straight though eat them though because he's feral.
First to define them as a couple: terminally repressed Englishman like Arthur? Nah i think not, this one is up to Toni.
Who hides their guilty pleasures longer: imma have to give it to Arthur, poor little repressed man.
Snorts while laughing: hmmm... Toni.
#okay if you read this far ily#and im sorry for rambling#but thank you keeping me occupied at the airport#this was fun 💖#scotfra#engspa#ask#headcanons#feel free to send more ships
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Bee my sweetheart 🖤 how are you doing? Any headcanons on your mind today? xx
anon xx! i hope you are well! thank you for this ask, i saved it for a day when i had some projections thoughts to share 🖤
i'm going to fully f*ck up the vibe here, so i'm going to put it under a cut so that everyone in a holiday bubble or in need of one can stay safe & happy & warm inside of it 🖤✨🎄🎁
just us depressed grinchies? sweet, hi! 😈
for as lovely as some of their christmases together likely are, i think that there's also some discomfort & upset. it's a really tough time of year.
i think that for ian, thanksgiving always brings up monica, then there's the anniversary of her death–not to mention the anniversary of the time he spent with mickey heading towards mexico & having to say goodbye again–so the entire holiday season is already shrouded in some pain. he misses her! he wants her to be there! especially as the kids grow & the siblings are able to give the next gen a christmas experience they didn’t get as kids.
super bittersweet.
for mickey, he never had fairytale christmases growing up. terry would steal & pawn presents, his mom left (& died? canonically unclear) & i think after a while, they probably just chucked out the whole thing. just another day, maybe even a more lucrative one for a family of criminals!
so to now have a different go with ian & the gallaghers, i think would be a bit uncomfortable? expectations & fuckin’ pressure to have a magical experience, like they’re not a buncha southside fuck-ups. maybe some resentment too & some grief around his own childhood. i think this would also all catch him off-guard emotionally, so there might be some fighting as a result of poorly expressed upset.
it’s just a tough time.
i know they’ll find pockets of joy & togetherness. new traditions & ways to show their love for one another. AND ALSO, i can see them having a lot to navigate during the “most wonderful time of the year.”
sending love to anyone who may need it this week 🖤 & you’re welcomed to reach out if you need some more direct comfort or a space to bitch! xx
#sad christmas headcanons#bringing it doooown down down y’all 🥳😅😵💫#anyway yeah it’s what i think!!!!#ask bee#answered
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omg thank you so much for this question, m, it's so nostalgic thinking about these rn :,) if i think about snow the first thing what comes to mind is my childhood. i live in hungary, in the heart of europe and it snows every year here, but when i was a kid it was truly magical. the snow was huge all the time during winter, to the point that there was snow as far as the eye could see. especially in the mountains where i live, during christmas they looked extremely beautiful and cozy covered in a blanket of white. ah, nowadays winter is crazy and the snow melts after like two seconds or starts snowing miserably in the middle of easter lmao i can only dream about white christmas now and my inner child yearns so hard for those times. :,)
oh my GOSH vani that sounds absolutely stunning 🥺 i never grew up with white christmases and i'm so very jealous of anyone who did, that sounds postcard perfect!!! thank you for sharing such a beautiful memory, i feel all winter nostalgia cozy just reading about it ❄️ 🤍
and omgggg the late snow 💀 apparently in the city i just moved to it snows as late as march or sometimes even into april.... we'll see if i still love the snow when i'm dying for spring to show up LMAO 😳 but for now it makes me so so happy, it's just so prettyyyyyy!! 🥰
#hoseokshobagi#mbox 📮#i had such a long day today and i loved reading everyone's snow takes!!#makes me want to write a winter fic ❄️
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