#christmas decorative umbrella

[luvmmarner]

PROMPTS OF ALL PROMPTS

I would definitely make intense smut prompts later! For now I hope you enjoy these fluff angst prompts instead! Requests are always opened!

For others that want to use these prompts! You're free to do so! Just tag me no need to credit. I would love to read it and see what you came up with! -- FLUFF PROMPTS 

“Can you hug me”

“My teammates gets annoyed because I talk about you 24/7”

“Can we have a date night tonight?”

“Do you know you're pretty” 

“Why are you being a pain?” 

“Stop simping for me you simp” 

“Your blushing you idiot” 

“Are you kidding me? I love cuddles” 

“Your hair smells good.” 

“I just want to lay here all day” 

“Can you wash my hair for me?” 

“I really need you right now”

“I like you.. well no… I love you” 

“I love your smile” 

“You sent me inappropriate pictures. When I was out in public” 

“Why are you so clingy?” 

“Fine. We can stay home tonight” 

“Dance with me in the rain” 

“Let’s jump in the puddles!” 

“Can I sit on your lap?” 

“Kiss me please!” 

“Can you rub my arm in circles?” 

“I’m wearing your shirt if that’s fine!” 

“This still smells like you” (long distant or for breakups) 

“Your mom gave me pictures of you when you were a baby.” 

“Stop you’re making me blush in public” 

“Don’t… I’m ticklish —“ 

“I can’t sleep can I stay here”

“I had a nightmare…”

“I care about you”

“You mean everything to me”

“You make me feel like I’m at home every time”

“Can I give you a hug? You look like you need one”

“Stop denying it! You need sleep”

“You’re so adorable.”

“You make me so happy.”

“I need pads”

“I don’t ever want to lose you”

“I feel better now that you’re here with me”

“It’s like we are meant to be”

“I’m not going anywhere”

“I feel safe when I’m with you”

“I can’t reach the top shelf.. Can you help?”

“Here take my jacket.”

“I just started my period…”

 “I’m right here baby, it’s okay”

“I’m so in love with you.”

“I’m never leaving you.”

“You're mine forever.”

“Should we make it official?”

BEACH PROMPTS

“Can you do my sunscreen?” 

“Why is your massages better than you scratching my back” 

“Please come in the water” 

“Stop it’s cold!” 

“I'm going to splash you!” 

“My sandcastle is better than yours” 

“I won!”

“Don’t throw me in the water!!!”

“I’m trying to tan”

“Stand in front of me you block the sun”

“Can you give me a piggyback”

“The sand is hot” 

“Come with me on the floatie!”

“Can you set up the umbrella?”

WINTER PROMPTS

“it’s snowing!” 

“We are locked in…”

“Let’s look at the stars through the window”

“Can we bake gingerbread cookies”

“You got frosting on your face”

“It’s so cold..”

“I love hot coco.”

“Look! I caught a snowflake in my mouth!”

“You got snow in your hair!”

“My snowman is better!”

“Whoever gets to the bottom of the hill first wins!”

“It’s freezing, could you turn on the heat?”

“Snowball fight!!!”

“I got snow in my boots, now my feet are cold.”

“Dw! I’ll warm you up!”

“Let’s build a fort!”

“This is the perfect time to set up the Christmas tree!”

“Ooh! I love sledding!”

“Woo! That was sooo fun!”

“Here! I made this one just for you!”

“You have such good decorating skills!”

SUMMER/CAMPING PROMPTS

“It’s so hot!”

“Can I borrow your hat please?”

“May you buy me a slushie? I forgot my wallet”

“The mosquitoes are killing me”

“Here let me spray you”

“Let’s go on a hike!”

“The sun is so bright.”

“Did you forget the sunscreen.”

“Baby, can you get my backside please?”

“I want to go swimming.”

“Can we just stay inside!”

“This is the perfect spot to set up our campsite.”

“I got the marshmallows!”

“I’ll help you set up the tent. But.. I don’t know how.”

“I’m already tired.”

“Let's roast marshmallows!”

“I made a smore just for you!”

“We can share.”

“Come swimming with me!”

“The water is sooo warm.”

“I rented a boat. You know how to drive it right..?”

“Don’t worry, of course I got the beer.”

“I love summer parties.”

“No… I didn’t steal your towel… Ok fine I did”

“Put me down – Ok ok fine fine! You win.”

“Can we go on a road trip?”

“You pushed me into the water, you jerk!”

“I couldn’t help myself… All the ice-cream flavours looked so good!”

“I didn’t buy any more ice cream.. The receipts are lies!!!!”

“Can we stay longer!!”

ANGST/ARGUMENT/BREAKUP PROMPTS

“You promised me.”

“You lied. You said you would never leave me.”

“Don’t lie to me. I know everything”

“Please don’t do this.”

“I loved you.”

“Why don’t you trust me”

“This can’t be goodbye.”

“Please don’t walk out.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t love you.”

“We were never meant to be.”

“I just wanted to be enough for you.”

“I don’t forgive you.”

“Stop saying sorry! It’s always ‘I’m sorry’. When you really aren’t”

“If you’re sorry, why did you leave me?”

“You thought I was dumb.”

“I know you’re lying.”

“Why did I fall in love with you.”

“I’m so stupid to think we had something.”

“You never cared about me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop being selfish.”

“I moved on.”

“You cheated on me.”

“This isn’t working…”

“No. We can’t… we are too toxic for each other.”

“Why me..”

“Us? There was never an ‘us’.”

“I’m done.”

“It’s better if we just stop seeing each other.”

“I can’t love you.”

“You broke my heart so carelessly. Now you want forgiveness?”

“You don’t deserve me.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Your always mad at me.”

“What do you want? Because I could care less.”

“I was such a fool.”

“You talked to her and then lied about it.”

“You told people that you were single…”

“I thought you loved me..”

“How could you…”

“That’s not going to happen. I already told you.”

“What's wrong with you seriously?”

“You lost me”

“Where’s your new gf/bf?”

“Shouldn’t you be with your new gf/bf”

“I thought things were going amazing”

“I thought wrong…”

“This is goodbye.”

“Don’t you love me?”

“I can’t live without you.’

“What did you expect me to say?”

“Our relationship is in the past. I’m sorry.”

“I like someone else.”

“This will be the last time you lie to me.”

“How did you think this wouldn’t hurt me?”

“I think it’s best if we don’t meet again.”

“You didn’t love me, did you?”

“I hope you're happier.”

“At least you got what you wanted”

“I was miserable and I still loved you.”

“Stop pretending. You wanted me like this… You wanted me broken and you got what you wanted.”

“We can’t keep talking. This isn’t healthy.”

“It’s best if we stop talking… like forever.”

“You're not the same person I fell in love with.”

“You don’t own me.”

“You act like everything is fine when it’s not!”

“Can we not argue for once.”

“Not now. Not even in a million years. I would ever think to give you another chance.”

“I fell for your lies again, and now I’m not anymore.”

“I was nothing to you. I was only a toy for you to manipulate and I fell for it.”

“Why wouldn’t you admit to everything! This was all your fault.”

“I hate you.”

“I despise you.”

“You were my ride or die.”

“I don’t fall in love. I don’t want to be loved or love someone else.”

“If I leave you know you would never see me again.”

“I deserve better.”

“You were my first and would be my last.”

“Don’t – Don’t make me fall in love again.”

“You know we can’t..”

“I know this is random and we haven’t talked in awhile.. But can you stay with me one more night and just forget about everything.”

“It was indeed. The wrong place the wrong time”

“Good for you!”

“Why can’t you be happy for me for once?”

“We shouldn’t be together anymore. I’m supposed to hate you.”

“How could I be so oblivious..”

“Why did I even think I could be enough for you.”

“I needed to hold you once more.”

“I don’t understand.. Wha- what are you saying..”

“I don’t want to say something I’ll regret later.”

“Don’t bother to call me when you need something later.”

“I didn’t mean to. I was just mad..”

“Please forgive me.”

“Why are you suddenly coming back into my life after I just started to do good.”

“Do you not understand the words ‘I’m done’.”

“Haha! You think I love you? That’s pathetic.”

FICS/STORY IDEAS

Here’s some storyline ideas. You can decide if you want it angst or fluff or whatever! I don’t mind if you take this ideas. You don’t need to credit just a tag, so I could read it! Would be great!

All the promises were already broken. 

Just one more night with no feelings, nothing. After that we forget.

Reader finds out their relationship was nothing, but a lie.

He wanted her back. She moved on. 

Even after breaking up. They still find ways back to each other.

He manipulated her and she fell for it.

They are toxic for each other. But always end up in bed with each other.

He wanted her back but she isn’t giving him another chance.

He left her and she still wanted him back.

They were never meant to be and they knew that. They just can’t let each other go.

She just wanted to be enough for him, but he didn’t care.

He cheated and she found out. Now he realized he can’t live without her.

He didn’t deserve her. But her love for him is stronger.

They thought they had something. But then decided it was best if they stopped seeing each other.

She always forgave him, but this time she didn’t.

How could you be in love with someone who is always mad at you. She knew it was best if she just left. But after everything they've been through it wasn’t going to be easy.

She couldn’t love him as much as she wanted to. It was forbidden to sleep with someone you worked for. But she couldn’t help but ignore the rule.

He was such a fool for letting her into his life. But maybe it was the best thing to happen to him.

They broke up, but they can’t live without each other.

Their relationship was fragments of the past, but deep down their love was still stronger than ever. What happens when they meet again?

She thought things were going amazing. Well she thought wrong.

He got what he wanted and he was happy. Meanwhile she was still broken and miserable.

Their relationship was amazing at the start. But over time the person that she fell in love with wasn’t the same.

After years of talking. They decided it was best if they stopped. Maybe it actually didn’t stop in the end.

He didn’t listen and thought everything was fine. She knew everything wasn’t fine and just wanted him to listen.

She despised him. He was arrogant and only cared about himself. That was until he gave her a ride home.

She didn’t want to fall in love with him again until his touch made her do the one thing she didn’t want to do ‘fall in love again’.

They stopped talking, but he called her wanting just one more night to forget about everything.

No denying they loved each other. But this was their third breakup. It was just best if she left for good.

He was her first love and would be her last. (either she could meet someone else or something!)

He didn't care about any girls and most importantly. He didn’t fall in love. That was until he saw her and his whole life changed.

She knew he was pretending and she wasn’t falling for it.

After years of dating they finally said the 3 words. ‘I love you’

Maybe being snowed in wasn’t so bad after all.

He didn’t seem to understand the words ‘I’m done.’ If they were done, why was she in his bed again.

After years of apologizing. Apology accepted.

After she said don’t ‘bother calling when you need something’. Turns out it was her in the end calling for something.

Maybe jealousy is something that can reunite the flame that was lost.

He was jealous and she didn’t care.

She didn’t trust him. Until one night when drinks got the best of her, and waking up on his couch realized how wrong she was.

She thought he didn’t love her. Until he showed her how much he did.

He didn’t understand that she was breaking up with him. She wanted so badly to say no. But her desires got the best of her.

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA # 24

A Chill Protector

Imagine dis…

We all heard about the different spirits hidden beneath the thick blanket of snow, and how winter and ice were always associated with death. As many succumb to the winter cold weather.

Parents tell their children myths and legends to their children as the snow spirits will drag them out of their warm home if they ever misbehave. Snow spirits both legends/ myths alike walk along the icy path and will drag any unsuspecting traveler to be their next victim. The horror stories he saw and heard as to why no matter how officials try to recover the bodies that might have been lost to the blizzard and snow could never have a body to return to.

But not all snow-related spirits from any legend or myth are there to lead us to a cold death. Some are protectors, to children who simply lost their way or even they join in the play.

But did you know there was a protector from the old?

Danny Phantom edition

…

Little Bruce Wayne is running to where no one knows, not even himself. That year will be the first Christmas without his parents. In the cold harsh winter in Gotham, tears never stopped flowing through. Alfred tried his best he did but some holes could not be filled with gingerbread cookies or hot cocoa. Little Bruce kept on running and running, he wanted his parents to be here, his mom who could be heard singing Christmas carols in the manor while his dad secretly put the gifts under the Christmas tree and signed the gifts from Santa, he missed the times where they would decorate the Christmas tree with both his mom and dad.

Little Bruce ran until he found himself in the middle of nowhere. There were street lampposts but no people, perhaps they had already begun to hide themselves from the upcoming harsh winter. Little Bruce tried to go back, he turned and turned but could not remember where he came from. A harsh blizzard heading towards Gotham that day, Little Bruce remembers as the dark grey clouds started to form out of nowhere.

Little Bruce tried to hide from the upcoming blizzard by squishing himself in between the dumpsters in the far corner. He knew that even if he asked for help there would be a likely chance for him to be kidnapped and be ransomed than be helped. He may be born from the higher class but he is still a Gothamite and knows of the dangers of outing himself.

Unluckily some homeless men saw and recognized him and tried to corner him, Little Bruce ran again into the unknown. He tries to lose his pursuers by sandwiching himself in between dumpsters. He had held his breath when the said pursuers ran past his hiding spots in their midst of angry grunts.

As he tried to warm himself a stranger went and crouched in front of him. Little Bruce never heard the crunching of boots when he walked so he was understandably startled, thinking that he was one of the men who were after him. A young boy with soft white hair, probably dyed a thought passed by, the bluest of eyes he had ever seen from anybody, freckles that looked like snowflakes decorating his cheeks, and an impish grin as he wore a white hoodie and cargo pants with sneakers and carrying a blue umbrella staring at Little Bruce with clear playfulness in his eyes.

Little Bruce knows that winter in Gotham is far worse than anywhere in the States yet he never seemed to question the stranger to only have a hoodie and shorts.

Little Bruce is wary of the stranger but he just puts an umbrella on top of him and puts his finger on his lips making a shushing gesture and noise as he winks playfully to Bruce.

Bruce who already sensed that this stranger had no malice but pure playfulness copied him giving his grin and shush.

Next, he was there holding an umbrella on top of his head the next time Little Bruce blinked he was gone.

When he tried to look for the kind stranger, he saw Alfred running towards him with clear relief and exhaustion. Alfred tried to scan him for any injuries, when little Bruce tried to ask about the kind stranger Alfred mentioned how it was a miracle, that he was still alive after 3 hours in this kind of weather.

Little Bruce kept telling Alfred that there was someone, someone who was kind someone who hid him someone who put an umbrella over his head. As the years went by Bruce kept looking for that kind Samaritan who saved him that day but over the years that memory made Bruce think that it may have been the light and the snow that made him imagine that stranger, how he was still grieving over his parents at the time. He concluded that the stranger was nothing more than a figment of his imagination to deal with his grief at that time.

…

Years later Batman along with his sons Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Robin were on a mission in the high ridge in Antarctica on the East Antarctic Plateau. About a suspicious sound wave which resulted in them botching another alien invasion. But before they could even go back to the plane another dying alien had shot an explosive in their direction, it may have missed them but their transportation was destroyed. Another blizzard was expected in a few minutes which brought the temperature to -135.8 F. They may have some heat built in their suits but not enough to warm them into the upcoming blizzard. It will take hours before Oracle and the others back send help to them. Superman is on a mission in outer space and cannot hear them.

As they make a makeshift shelter from the debris of the broken plane each then starts a quiet yet somber conversation with one another. Without the screaming and the death threats some of them had a few things to say to each other, Dick tried to be optimistic as they have survived far more dangerous situations and scenarios surely they can survive this and remove it from their bingo card. Maybe it’s an unconscious belief of their upcoming death, the heat sensors in their suit are already working overtime to give them warmth when fighting off the aliens, they could already see the battery in it draining as fast as they see the strongest snow storm approaching.

Batman had his entire arms surround each of his children. Wishing that his children survived this as he could hear the howling icy wind coming through the tiny cracks in their makeshift shelter.

Suddenly Batman heard the unmistakable sound of crunching of boots in the snow. He also noticed that all of his children fell into a deep sleep with how deep each breathing was. He slowly looked up and widened his eyes at what he saw.

There standing is the same white-haired teen wearing the same hoodie, the same pants, the same shoes, and carrying the same umbrella looking at him with the same playfulness twinkling in his eyes.

The teen once more opened his umbrella and put it over the head of Bruce along with his children who were huddled together. Slowly put his finger to his lips and made the same shushing sound and gesture as if they were back in the alley in between dumpsters hiding the little Bruce Wayne as if they were playing hide and seek.

Batman was just staring at him, one moment he was there next moment he was gone, like back then. Spoiler and Orphan found and came rushing to their location as they had been looking for them for 6 hours the snow and wind made it difficult to look for them.

…

Danny had fully died when he was 78 years old, he formed and turned back into his ghostly prime of 14 years old and turned into some sort of protective spirit of the winter side. Frostbite explained on how the great one can finally stop the stigma against winter spirits. Frostbite explained that the majority of the winter spirits are vengeful to the mortals, sure his tribe to end the stigma but many people just kept running away from them and when they went near a mortal they were already dead and buried them for the death rites, As Danny is both protector and a winter spirit he can finally stop the stigma as well continue fulfilling his obsession. Clockwork then added that he had the perfect dimension as a tutorial for Danny.

…

PS: If someone out there wanted to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

[covetyou]

baubles

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: ball fucking, ball sucking, balls, wall to wall all ball, BIV (ball in vagina), sex toys (the balldo [link to website] is real and it has haunted my dreams for 6 months - pic in this ask), there's some PIV too I guess. word count: too many and they're all balls 4.4k summary: Santa Joel fucks you with his balls. That's it.

A/N: I am NOT sorry. Not now, not ever. And, yes, I watched the instructional video on how to put it on, purely for Research Purposes. We don't talk about how long I've spent thinking about balls.

Happy Ball-idays, don't say I never got you anythin' nice.

...

Santa Joel-y, slip your ballsack right into me, oh gee.

I've been a fuckin' good girl,

Santa Joel-y, so stuff 'em up my chimney tonight.

...

It was your first Christmas in Texas and your first Christmas in a place that felt unseasonably warm for the time of year. That's what you tell yourself every night as you strip off completely before slinking into bed, at least.

Except, this night is different.

It's Christmas Eve.

And someone is in your house. You're sure of it.

A click of a button and you're on your feet, creeping to your bedroom door to listen out for the intruder. You almost didn't hear it, too preoccupied to be on the lookout for burglars on Christmas Eve.

There's a tell tale rustle, the stomp of feet. Whoever it is, they're not even trying to be quiet. You'd respect the brazenness of it all if someone hadn't broken into your damn house. You toy with calling the cops, maybe a neighbor, but you know it'll be too late by the time anyone gets here to do anything, so you make the stupid decision to head downstairs and confront the intruder alone.

Wrapping your flimsy bath robe around yourself, you grab the nearest makeshift weapon you can find (a broken umbrella you still hadn't thrown away) and click the door open, slinking out into the hallway and down the stairs.

If he hears you before you get down the stairs, he doesn't let on. But there, right in front of your Christmas tree is the unmistakable figure of a man. A big man. He's tall, and broad, and his silhouette is wrapped in something fluffy, making it look like there's a giant teddy bear standing in your living room.

You flick the light on, startling him, making him drop a heavy bag undoubtedly filled with your things onto the floor with a heavy thud.

"Oh, shit."

A single ornament rolls out of the bag and across the floor. You both stand frozen and silent, watching it move until it knocks against your bare toes. Only when it's stopped do you drag your eyes back up to look at the man who broke into your house.

Your umbrella clatters to the floor.

"What the...?"

The man before you is dressed as Santa, hat and all.

Only this man was not as old as you would expect for someone claiming to be Santa Claus. His beard is patchy, the scruff around his chin only speckled with gray. He has lines around his eyes, crinkled divots in his skin from so many years of laughter. The red coat pulled around his form is unbelted, falling open at the middle to reveal a white vest and the soft swell of his belly.

"What the fuck are you doin' in my house?" you yell.

"Shh, quit your fuckin' hollerin'."

He takes a step toward you and you back into the wall, trying to keep your distance from the very Texan man who had broken into your house dressed as Santa on Christmas Eve.

And that's when you see behind him, to the glittering lights of your Christmas tree, and the branches covered in ornaments. Ornaments that did not belong to you. You'd bought the thing on sale at the grocery store just a week ago. When you put it up and plugged it in, grateful for the existence of pre-lit trees, you settled on the fact you wouldn't decorate it this year. Even so, it was beautiful as it was, and you enjoyed the soft glow of the lights in the evenings as you wound down after work. Now, that soft glow was accompanied by the twinkling reflections of the many ornaments hanging on it.

"Did you... did you decorate my tree?"

He looks at you like you're mad, and maybe you are. Maybe you came so hard on your vibrator upstairs that you passed out, and this is all a dream. A very vivid dream where you can smell the warm oaky scent of the man in front of you and feel the heat of him as he crowds you against the wall.

"What else do you think I've been doin'?" he says, as if it should be entirely obvious that he's been here decorating your tree all along.

"I don't know, maybe stealing my shit?"

He, once again, looks at you like you're stupid and gestures to his suit, red and velvety, draped around his body. It looks good on him, and does nothing to help the thick syrupy feeling still coursing through your veins. Having a man like him break into your house felt like one of lifes great injustices, but having him break in when you were mid-jerk off was purely inhumane. Other than point to the door and tell him to get out, there was nothing you could do but gape at him and hope he didn't notice you curl your toes as he looked at you.

He takes a step closer, heavy boot falling with a thud in front of you, and shrugs. "If you don't want it, I'll take it back."

Up this close, the smell of him goes straight to your head, your body seemingly ready and rearing to go at the slightest hint of something masculine in your presence. Your tongue suddenly feels too big and clumsy so, not trusting a single word that would come out of your mouth, you shake your head. You would actually, really, very much like the decorations to stay and the man who put them there.

Texas always felt hot to you, but something about this room was now super heating. You're keenly aware of the stickiness pooling between your thighs, and even more aware of the visible sheen of sweat on your head and the warmth in your cheeks. If he looked closely, he'd even be able to see glistening on your fingers, making you look glitter coated in the twinkle of the Christmas lights. You shift, trying to mask the buzzing in your veins at his eyes as they drag down your body.

You hadn't noticed the silky tie of your robe slowly loosen as you wiggled and fidgeted. You were too warm to notice when the fabric parted, gaping over your chest and giving him a perfect view of your tits. You were too busy staring into his deep brown eyes to notice him raise his hand.

You did, however, feel the moment his finger stroked a slow trail down the swell of your breast, puckering your nipple and making a shudder run through your spine.

"You're all unwrapped, darlin'," he whispers, just as you remember to breathe again. "S'gettin' a bit warm in here, huh?"

He absentmindedly discards his hat as his finger traces down your body, flicking the light back off behind you once his hat hits the floor. You know where he, and this, is heading, and you're not keen to stop it any time soon.

When his fingers stroke across your mound, you gasp. Your vibrator had made you sensitive, but you'd never had chance to finish the job, and now here he was threatening you with a good time. He cups you, completely engulfing your pussy in his broad hand, and slides it between your legs.

By now it's no secret you're already wet, your upper thighs already sticky with it. His fingers slide through with ease, the quirk of his eyebrow visible now his hat has been thrown to the side.

"Here I was thinkin' you were on the nice list. But this little thing right here tells me you're naughty as they come, darlin'. What you been doin' to yourself all alone up there in the dark?"

You're staring at him opened mouthed as he works is thick fingers over you, dragging slick over your already sensitive clit. You'd been moments away from coming when the noise from downstairs pulled you out of it, and now here he was working you back up and quickly.

"It's my house," you stutter. "Can do what I want." And right now you want to collapse into a heap on the floor with his fingers between your legs.

"That you can. You wanna go back up there and finish yourself off?"

Logically, you know your pre-orgasm desperation is clouding your judgement, that you should take him up on his offer to leave and put a stop to this, but there's something too enticing about him. You don't want to stop.

"Or do you maybe want a hand with your... Little problem?"

"Yeah," you're nodding, eyes so heavy now you want them to snap shut, but you can't resist looking at him in the glow of your Christmas lights. Red really suits him, and you swear you can see his cheeks get rosy in the dim lighting.

"S'good. Got some little problems here myself. But, seein' as you're already halfway there, seems only fair to get me to your level before we start anythin', don't you think?"

Biting your lip, you nod, taking a step closer to him. Tentatively, you reach out a hand and caress the front of his pants. They feel velvety soft, and you have no fucking clue how he doesn't look as sweaty as you feel.

"That's right. You feel that?"

You feel something grow beneath your palm. Big, thick, and heavy. You look down in stunned silence, seeing only the odd shadows cast by the Christmas tree lights sparkling over the front of his pants.

"Get on your knees and close your eyes."

You obey, wanting very much to stay on the nice list now that you know exactly what you want for Christmas. His belt jingles as he undoes the buckle, pulling it from his waist and discarding it on top of his bag. He can't resist giving his dick a quick squeeze over the fabric of his pants at the sight of your bare chest heaving in the twinkling light, before unzipping them and letting them fall down to his ankles. The fabric is so loose he can step out of them, easily tugging his booted feet from the legs.

It doesn't go unnoticed that you spend the entire time eyes closed, listening attentively, and gently rocking your hips, discreetly humping the air in a desperate attempt to find any kind of relief.

"Tsk, got an impatient one on our hands."

The same hand he'd been stroking your pussy with wraps around his cock, slowly dragging his sticky fingers up and down his rapidly hardening length. He wishes he'd told you to strip, or left the light on so he could see you more clearly, but something about your skin under the sparkling lights and the shadows cast between your legs is making him harder more quickly than ever. When his dick twitches in his hand at your deep sigh, he finally stops staring and speaks.

"Open your eyes."

You snap them open, eager to see what he has for you, and your eyes immediately turn the size of dinner plates.

His cock gorgeous, and even in the grip of his large hand it looks big. He's long, thick with a slight upward curve and a smattering of salt and pepper hair at the base. You're fairly certain he trims it, keeping it well groomed and flush to his skin, making his cock appear even larger as it juts out infront of him.

But, despite the gloriousness of this mans cock, what you can't get over are his balls. They're heavy, and full, and getting tighter and tighter as his cock hardens under your gaze. You flick your eyes up to his face and he has a knowing smirk pulling at his lips.

"Fuck," you say as you look back down at it, at them, and let out a shaky breath.

His whole body shakes with a laugh, jingling his bells, as you take in his length. Hand never leaving his cock, his gentle strokes become firmer, and he's guiding the tip toward your face a moment later.

"What should I call you?" you ask, realizing you don't even know his name yet, just as his tip touches to your lips. Exhilarating as it was to fuck a man who had broke into your house, you still wanted to know his name, and not even to press charges - you wanted to know what to scream when you came.

"Santa works just fine."

Pulling back, you scoff, "You want me to call you Santa Claus?"

"Fuck no! Do I look like a Claus to you? S'Joel."

"Santa Joel?"

"Fuck yeah darlin', now open up."

You stick out your tongue, waiting for his cock to slide along the spit slicked muscle. He drags his tip across it, letting you lick at his head before you capture his cock in your mouth, sucking it in and flicking your tongue lightly on his frenulum. The salty sweet taste of him makes you crave more, so you draw him further into your mouth, sliding up and down his cock as he stares down at you with an open mouth.

Dragging your hands up his bare thighs, you grab the base of his cock with one, steadying him as you suck. You tickle the other across his balls, looking up at him as he pulls in a sharp breath, before grabbing them and massaging them. His balls feel entirely smooth to the touch, and you have an irresistible urge to put them in your mouth.

Dragging your lips back from his cock, you lick broadly up the length of it again and again until you're dragging your tongue across his ballsack, slowly trailing up his cock to his tip, watching him all the while. Then you kiss his balls, humming in satisfaction as you finally press your lips to the soft skin.

The sight of you on your knees, making out with his balls is sending him stupid, and all he can do is stare down at you with a look of deep concentration on his face. If he's not careful, he's going to blow his load early, coming in your hand before he even gets to fuck you.

He watches you lightly drag your teeth over his delicate ball skin. He swears he sees your eyes flicker with something deserving of the naughty list when you hear his intake of breath, but he's too preoccupied by your tongue lathing across them to take much notice. You take it in turns with them, sucking each ball into your mouth as you slowly pump his cock in your fist, before releasing and working on the other. By the time you've had enough, his cock is dripping, smearing pre-cum over your hand as you jerk him.

Licking the drippy mess off of your hand, you look up at him, savouring the taste of his cum in your mouth.

"Please tell me you want to fuck me," you say, biting down on your swollen lips. You don't know what you'll do if he says no now, you know going back upstairs to your vibrator just won't cut it, even if you now have the fantasy of kissing Santa's balls to get off to.

"You kiddin' me, darlin'? Get up here."

Relief and desperation wash through you, and you climb off your aching knees, letting your robe fall from your arms.

"Couch?" you say, keeping a firm grip on his cock as you stroke up his chest. He pulls you toward him, holding the back of your neck as he kisses you, tasting his cum and balls on your tongue. His lips are impossibly soft, just like his balls, a stark contrast to the scratch of his beard.

Moving to the couch, you bend over, wiggling your bare ass for him. He chuckles, stepping closer to you and marvelling at the lights dancing over your jiggling backside. He shucks off his own coat now, leaving him in just his vest and boots, and hones in on the peek of your pussy from between your legs.

Sliding his length up and down your slit he groans, gripping your hip in his massive hand just as he notches at your entrance.

"Well, shit, that's nice," he says, sliding his tip into you.

You're inclined to agree - it had been a long time since anyone other than yourself had fucked you, and the red hot feeling of his hard cock in you felt better than you remembered. He rocks his hips a little, drenching his cock in you bit by bit until he's fully sheathed inside your eager pussy. The solid beat of your heart throbs through your veins and straight to your core, making you clench around him as he begins to fuck you.

"You're gonna yank my dick clean off if you keep that up."

"Can't help it," you moan, "Feels so good." You let your eyes close, succumbing to the slow, steady, pleasure building in you.

Snapping his hips more firmly, he bottoms out in you over and over, pushing deep inside you with each thrust. You can feel his wet balls slap against you, rhythmically whacking into your clit, but it's not enough. You're so desperate to come you lick your fingers and reach between your legs, swiping your digits over your clit. His balls instead slap against your fingers and you can't resist trying to stroke them again.

The noises you're making are going straight to Joel's dick, and he knows he's going to blow his snowy load way before he's ready if you don't stop, so he pulls away from you. You protest as his cock slides out of you, leaving you empty and still desperate to come.

"Got a present for you, darlin'," he pants from behind you.

"The ornaments?"

"Yeah. Got some real pretty baubles for you, darlin'. You'll like 'em. I promise."

He goes to his bag, long forgotten on the floor, and bends over it. You watch his soft ass and the swing of his dick and balls as he rummages around inside the sack, pulling out two things before standing up. When he doesn't immediately turn back around, clearly playing with his own cock, you start to worry that you're not satisfying him. But then he rounds on you and you see his cock and balls glisten wetly in the twinkling Christmas lights just as he throws a bottle at you. Lube.

Catching him opening another box, you gasp and draw your hand to your chest in mock shock.

"Is that not my present to open?" you say coyly, now trickling lube over your own pussy. You don't need it, but whatever he has in mind clearly calls for it.

"Good things come to those who wait, darlin'."

"I'm still waiting for the coming part."

He shoots you a admonishing look and you raise your hands in surrender, before snaking one back down to keep rubbing at your clit. You're about to go mad if you don't come soon, your clit is so sensitive, a firm nub between your legs now, and your pussy so puffy from so much stimulation. It's a wonder you have any blood left in your brain at all.

The object in the box is revealed, and you can do nothing but gape at it as Santa Joel proudly holds it up with a hand on his hip.

It looks like a torpedo cockring hybrid, and you have no fucking clue what it is.

"Get yourself comfy, gotta strap myself in."

Laying back on your couch - for all its flaws, an armless couch certainly had its benefits - you spread your legs and watch him with curiousity. You still can't work out what it is.

"What is -"

And then he stretches the silicone underneath his balls, pushing each ball into the cage with his thumbs before letting go. Oh.

Oh. "Oh."

You sit in stunned silence. He's turned his balls into a dick or, more accurately, a dildo. With the length of it and the girth of his balls, you can only imagine what it's going to feel like.

"If you don't fuck me with that in the next two seconds I'm gonna scream."

With the contraption strapped around his balls, pulling them down and taught, crouches over you, pushing your legs back so your pussy is pointing skyward like a sloppy wet landing pad for his balls.

He dunks the tip of the dildo into your pussy. It's cold and unfamiliar, not like the velvety warmth of his dick that stands straight ahead of you, taunting you with its glistening tip. If you could fold yourself in a pretzel you would, just to suck the head of his cock back into your mouth.

He pushes down, squatting over you with bare legs, sheathing the entire dildo into you. Another push and you feel the swell of his balls as they pop past your entrance and nestle themselves inside of you.

You gasp. The feeling is wholly unfamiliar, but still you feel yourself soaking him, slicking up his balls as they sit in your pussy.

"That hurtin'?"

"No. No, it's just I- I've never had someone's balls in me before."

"A first ball fuckin' for this little pussy," he says affectionately, stroking a thumb over your lips as they wrap themselves around his balls. His cock is protruding out of you now, like you're wearing a life like strap, and you really wish you could reach to taste where his tip threatens to drip onto you. Suddenly you understand the boys back in highschool and their failed attempts to suck their own dicks.

"They feel so big inside," you moan as he begins to gently shift above you. He pops out of you once, and pushes back in, and you throw your head back onto the soft sofa woth a moan. You have never felt anything like this. "Joel, please don't stop. Please keep fucking me with your balls."

"You got it darlin'," his voice is soft, in awe of you as you take his balls and the toy deep inside you. You feel incredible, and the wet slip of your walls on his ball skin shoots straight down his dick, and for a moment he thinks he's accidentally came too early. A quick look from your face, contorting with the fullness in your pussy, down to where his dick sticks outward, tells him otherwise. Thank fuck. He knows he has to get you off quickly. You were soaking his dick not too long ago, and before that his fingers, and before that your own sheets upstairs. You were ready, and he was nothing if not a giving man.

His thumb finds your clit, slippery from lube and your own slick, and he circles it, applying a firm pressure as he moves.

"Oh my god, that's it," you plead, opening your eyes to look at where he plays with you, balls still sunk deep.

You spur him on, rocking your hips as much as you can with your legs back, fucking yourself on his balls as he strokes your clit. You feel your pussy tense, little spasms warning you of what's to come, and you hold on tight to your own legs.

"That's it darlin'. Come on my balls. Squeeze 'em."

"F-fuuuck."

The swipe of his thumb sends you over, and you come hard on his balls with your head back and eyes squeezed shut. Your legs shake and you know he can feel how you twitch and spasm around his balls, drenching them as he dunks them in you, shallowly thrusting them as you tighten and grip him hard.

He's holding your legs back for you, looking you in the eye as he bends forward over your limp body when you open your eyes. The feral look on his face tells you he hasn't come yet, and you're desperate to see when he does.

"You been so nice I'm gonna give you an extra present. You ready?"

"Please Santa Joel, I've been so good this year," you say with a soft smirk.

He soon wipes the smirk off your face when he fucks down into you harder, practically bouncing off your ass as he slots his swollen balls into your pussy. They feel so big and heavy inside you, and even strapped down and pulled tight by the toy, you feel his balls tighten and try to draw up closer to his cock as he gets closer to coming.

"Come on me. Please. Come on me," you beg, staring between his cock and his face. Pre-cum had been steadily dripping onto you, splattering your belly, but you were hungry for more.

His fingers grip around his flushed head, stroking easily over the slicked surface. Pushing his balls deep, he bounces gently, loving the feel of his sensitive ball skin inside of your soaked hole.

"Here it comes, darlin'. Oh shit."

"Yeah, come on me. Come all over me Joel."

"Shit. Fuck."

You watch his slit as it seems to wink at you before ropes of come spurt out of the tip, shooting across your chest and neck, spattering your face and even your hair with his cum.

"Yes, yes, thank you," your eyes have snapped shut. You can feel the warm trickle of cum by your eyebrow, and you're not keen to feel the sting of semen in your eye.

For a little while he looks at you, fucked out by his balls and laying boneless on your couch. With a soft pop he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty without his balls in you. Your legs flop down and you listen to his deep breaths.

"Nothin' like a ballgasm," he pants.

Nothing like being ballfucked, you think, but the words are heavy in your mouth and you do nothing but moan, mumbling some nonsense.

"Mm... balls. They... mm. Yeah. Good."

"Too fucked out, huh?" he laughs, before swiping the cum from near your eye. "Make a Christmas wish," and he slips the finger into your waiting mouth.

He slides his finger from your mouth and you murmur a thank you as you make your wish, sighing and letting yourself relax completely for a moment.

When you tentatively open your eyes, wary of any errant drops of cum, he's gone, disappeared as soon as he'd arrived. You didn't hear the door, the window, anything. You certainly didn't hear him get dressed.

Feeling stupid, and like maybe it was all just a dream, you rush to the window. You don't expect to see anything, the man feeling too magical to have been real. But, there he is, walking down the street bare assed, his pants slung over his shoulder and his balls still swinging strapped into the toy.

No, you don't think you'll be forgetting your first Christmas in Texas any time soon at all.

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[scarletttries]

Christmas By Myself This Year (Moon Knight Request)

Pairing: Steven Grant x GN!Reader

Rating: Pure fluff, gender neutral pronouns throughout :)

Word Count: 1.9k

Author's Note: My Christmas gift to all the Steven Grant lovers, after I got the sweetest anon request for something along the lines of Steven turning up on your doorstep on Christmas Eve 🥰I hope you are all having the best festive period that you can 💕

Christmas By Myself This Year (Steven Grant Fluff)

"This is great."

You stated each word matter-of-factly to yourself as you put the final bauble on the miniature Christmas tree you'd perched in the middle of your coffee table. You hadn't been planning on decorating this year, part of a promise you made yourself to use your precious few days off to prioritise self-care and ignore all the pressures that usually came with Christmas; family drama, big nights with your friends that left you exhausted, and never enough hours in the day to do something for yourself after looking for everyone else. No, this year you were taking control of your own Christmas and spending it at home, alone. It was going to be perfect, and you had been so proud of yourself when you decided to be alone this holiday period, so when you went out to get everything you needed for your favourite meal and saw some decorations discounted on Christmas Eve you couldn't help but take it as a sign to put up a few little celebratory trinkets.

You'd started with some fairy lights around the windows of your little flat, then popped some colourful baubles on the foot-high tree, now finally the finishing touch. You giggled to yourself as you tied a piece of ribbon to the nail above your front door, a neat bow holding a swinging piece of mistletoe in place. The face that flashed through your mind was that of Steven Grant, a regular at the vegetarian restaurant you worked at, his big brown eyes staring warmly up at you as if you were old friends. As well as being one of your most loyal customers, he was also by far the friendliest, visiting you often at work and talking your ear off in an effort to get to know you better, even going as far as to walk you home one night with an umbrella extended above you both when you forgot your own in the worst of the London weather. He was sweet and shy and awkward, all while being undeniably handsome but completely unaware of it. You realised you were smiling to yourself at the mere thought of the man, shaking your head as you turned your back to the door and wondered if it would break your own Christmas rules to try and bump into him at midnight on new year's eve.

You let the thought ruminate as you threw on a festive playlist and heated up some mulled wine on your stove, grateful for the moment of peace but also quickly feeling the tinge of loneliness in your quiet home. It was a relief to be away from work and family, so why did you keep glancing at the sofa like you were looking at someone? Maybe it was the string of bad dates this year had thrown your way, each one an unmitigated disaster. Or the fact that you'd just seen two of your friends get engaged this winter. Maybe you did want to be spending your Christmas with someone. Maybe you just didn't have that special someone in your life yet? So Christmas alone it is.

"This is great.." You sighed as you turned off the heat and poured the steaming burgundy potion into a festive mug, topping it with a slice of orange and then absent-mindedly doing the same to a second mug. Holding one in each hand you walked back to the coffee table, setting them down as you realised they would both just be for you, the playlist almost drowned out by torrential rain picking up outside your windows. Another wave of loneliness washed over you at the first sip, and suddenly you didn't feel much like being alone at all.

And then the doorbell rang.

You weren't expecting anyone, everyone you could think of being out of town for their own holiday adventures, so you slowly approached the door, debating dialing 9-9 into your phone just in case, and peered through the peephole.

"Steven?" You practically ripped the door open at the sight of the cold, soaked man, struggling with the chain just long enough you feared he might have turned around and walked home already. "What are you doing here? Are you okay?" Wide-eyed and almost apologetic Steven quickly nodded his head, tripping over his tongue as he spoke. He had spent all day preparing a few words from when he got brave enough to see you, but he wasn't expecting to miss you so much that he'd turn up on your doorstep on Christmas Eve, and he didn't prepare an answer for when you asked if he was okay.

"Merry Christmas! Oh, um, I'm fine, sorry, this must seem mad. I'm here and I didn't call first and now I'm dripping on your nice door mat." He trailed off in a panicked chuckle, each word making him realise quite what a sorry sight he must be.

"Do you want to come inside Steven? I just made mulled wine?" Your smile was just as welcoming as your words and even though he dreaded the thought of intruding, he found himself floating into your cosy home very happily.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother. You have such a nice place, I'd hate to drip all over it." He found the tension melting from his shoulders as your hands settled there, suddenly remembering just why he missed being around you so much.

"You're not a bother at all Steven, you are very welcome here. Let me take your wet coat." He willingly shrugged off the damp layer and mumbled his thank yous as you shut the door behind him, letting him delve deeper into your inner sanctum. His face lit up as he surveyed your walls, a dozen new insights into your life and the things that you loved, your warm space so uniquely you but welcoming to everyone all the same. He felt at ease and at home, like he did whenever he got to spend time with you.

You on the other hand could feel your pulse racing as his flushed cheeks drew closer to yours, every beaming smile thrown your way as he looked around raising the temperature in your home by a degree or two. Trying to pull yourself together you turned on your heels and picked up the mugs you'd just filled up, extending one to Steven.

"I accidentally made two mugs of this, so I must have known you were coming!" You cringed at how isolated that sentence made you feel, but Steven's shaking hands wrapping around the mug and soaking up its warmth helped to put you at ease.

"You're too kind to me, love. I'm sorry to interrupt your private Christmas, I know you were looking forward to a bit of alone time this year."

"To be honest, the alone time got old pretty quickly. I'm really glad you stopped by, I could use the company. But, and I hope this doesn't sound rude, why did you stop by Steven?"

"Oh right of course! Sorry, got a bit carried away making myself at home there. I just wanted to give you something." Steven blushed as he set down his cup and rushed back to his coat, pulling a little envelope topped with a bow out of the pocket. "This is for you." He presented it proudly, watching in eager anticipation as you carefully unsealed it and slid out the little card.

"A gift card for my favourite coffee shop? That's so sweet Steven, thank you! I'm sorry I didn't get you anything, but I really appreciate this." It never ceased to amaze you just how thoughtful he could be, and just how closely he listened to everything you had to say.

"Well this might be something you could do for me. But only if you want! Um, I wanted to ask if you would ever want to go for a coffee with me some time? I really like talking to you, and seeing you, and spending time with you, and I know I only ever do it when you're working and that can make it tricky for us to talk too much, so I wanted to ask you on a proper date in the new year? But also you don't have to say yes, I got you the gift card so I could still technically buy you a coffee even if you don't want to go and get it with me. Which would be fine. But I would really like to go with you.." You could see the desperate panic building in his eyes as he went back and forth on the sentiment, hands wringing frantically as he tried to get the words out even though he couldn't remember anything he'd prepared every time he opened his mouth. You worried if you let him talk much longer he'd end up blue in the face or sprinting for the door, so setting the card down on the table, you figured out one way to shut him up and answer his question at the same time.

One hand landed gently on the side of his face, thumb running across his flushed cheek, while the other found his trembling fingers. His lips stopped mid-movement in awestruck disbelief as you glanced down at his mouth before slowly but surely leaning into him. Your bottom lip met his, plump and soft and hanging slightly open, and then as your noses brushed, the cupid bows of your upper lips kissed. It was sweet and soft and his lips felt cold against yours, uncertain as if you might pull away on second thought. You gave him a second to react, letting the cogs whir in his brain until finally his hand squeezed back at yours, an arm wrapping around your waist as he dived in for more. His jaw tensed as his lips applied more pressure, chasing the high that came from finally tasting you, pulling you tightly against his chest to soak up as much of your warmth and scent as he could possibly consume. He felt almost drunk as he finally pulled away, resting his forehead on yours with a giddy grin, summoning a little more confidence to ask again,

"Does this mean you'll go for coffee with me, love?"

"It definitely does Steven." Your second kiss was interrupted by the elated giggle that crept past his lips, before he went to plant peck after peck on you, this outcome even better than he could have ever hoped a Christmas miracle would be. You caught a glimpse of the recently strung up mistletoe over Steven's shoulder as you pulled him in for a hug, smiling to yourself at the wonderful turnaround your evening had had. You could feel Steven's grin against your cheek as he muttered quietly in your ear,

"If you want any more company this Christmas, I haven't got any plans. We can do anything you want."

"This is great." For the first time tonight, as Steven wrapped his arms around you even more tightly, you truly meant it.

[sopiao]

OMG I LOVE YOU WAITRESS!READER X GHOST AU,,,, MAY YOU PLEASEEEE MAKEEEEEE MOOOOOOOORRRRWWW AAAAAAAA!!!!!

YES YES YES

I FUCKING LOVE THIS TROPE

I WAS HOPING SOEMONE WOULD ASK FOR MORE 😭😭

Sitting on the bar, where Simon usually sits at, you waited—for him. The other side didn’t have any seats and there were no customers so it wouldn’t really cause any fuss with your boss.

Mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you didn’t even hear the familiar chime of the door when it opened. Simon watched as you didn’t even flinch, or blink, at the sound of his arrival, he chuckled at the opportunity.

Sneaking up behind you and using his gloved hands to cover over your eyes, making you jump with a small yelp.

“Guess who?” He grins at the way you put your hand over his and pull it down while you look up at him with a playfully annoyed look.

—

“Don’t think it’s gonna let up any time soon” Simon had his head turned towards the window, watching and listening how hard the water is smacking against the glass. Making you sigh in disappointment.

“Mm” You press your lips together before biting at your lower lip, trying to come up of a way to get home dry.

“What’s wrong?” He stares at you, wondering what you were so worried about and what he can do to help.

“If this rain doesn’t go away I might be drenched by the time I get home” You shake your head, huffing out a sigh as you accept your fate and lean forward to rest your elbows on the wooden countertop.

After half an hour of talking the usual routine of how each other’s day was and complaining about the creepy customers. He leaves. Coming back a minute later embarrassed since he forgot his phone at the counter.

When you go to clock out and hope that your coat will at least try to keep you dry, you find a small black compact umbrella on his seat and a small sticky note that read: no need to return it :). His handwriting was somewhat neat, kinda rounded. He must’ve sneaked it in when he ‘forgot’ his phone.

—

He looked at the phone charm on the edge of your phone case then back at you. Exhaling a chuckle to show how childish he thinks it is, but really, he finds it cute how you can find such interest in such cute things.

“What the hell is he?” He asked, taking the phone charm in his hand and twisting it between his fingers. It was a tiny Pekkle 3D charm, a little model.

“A duck. Can’t ya’ tell?” You watched his amused expression. Placing the little ducky to stand on the counter next to his coffee cup.

“He’s kinda stupid looking”.

“HEY!”.

—

“You’re spending Christmas working?” Simon asked, surprised that you’d even pick up the shift. It was a week and a half before Christmas so he’s surprised that you’re not gone to go visit family or something

“Yeah? I don’t really have plans, so might as well make money instead of wasting time” You sigh, kinda upset since you just realized that you are spending Christmas alone. Simon hummed in response, looking down at his cup of coffee.

Days later, a day before he’s deployed, he stopped by during the day. Catching you by surprise, you had just clocked in, since you weren’t really expecting him at all actually.

“I can’t really stay long. I wanted to drop this off” He said hastily, like he was anxious rather than in a rush, dropping two paper bags in your hands, one plain brown and the other decorated, and leaving before even saying goodbye.

“That’s your guy? Didn’t think he’d be so..” Your coworker bounced excitedly as she followed you to the staff room so you can see what he gave you. To be honest, your were excited as well.

“I— I never said he was ‘my guy’!” You immediately shut up when you opened the little cardboard box and saw a mini christmas tree inside it with tiny ornaments. You can tell he painted tiny things on the ornaments it came with: a coffee cup, a duck, a skull. Something only you two would understand, along with other things Christmas related.

“AWWWWW” You coworker gushed at how much effort he put into this, leaning against you and looking at each of the messily painted ornaments. You knew he wasn’t very artistic but you can see the effort he put in. Placing it at the front of the counter, arranging the decor on the small branches in a way that the design is always showing.

The other decorated bag was pink with yellow stars on it, stapled shut with translucent pink makeshift bow on the handle

It had a tag that said: ‘don’t open until x-mas’

Christmas eve, you stared at the clock until it was exactly 12. Opening up the bag and getting the tissue paper out of the way there were three things. A dark blue mug with white stars on it, a tiny astronaut keychain, and your favorite thing most of all: a duck plushy, but a specific duck, Pekkle.

It made your heart flutter that he was so thoughtful, getting you things he knows you’d like, let alone get you anything. For the entire rest of your shift— week actually— all giddy and fluttery like a school girl. Thinking about what to get him, and if he’ll treasure it.

[kaoffee]

kaoru h. — rain

a/n — based on an idea my friend yue (@bl4cktourmaline) gave me for free... i bet you weren't expecting this so soon since we talked abt this like... a few hours ago? HOPE U LIKE THIS YUE TYSM FOR THE THOUGHT <3

happy holidays everyone. did u know that scorpion kaoru was the last 5* announced before my bday. and now they announced his fs2 on christmas which is my 2nd fav holiday. do u think happyele is doing this for me. /j

christmas shopping is always a hassle, but last minute christmas shopping is even worse. kaoru's schedule was busy. yours was busy. overall, that left little to no time to prepare any gifts or even decorations.

it was fortunate that the both of you even managed to make it to the store—hell, it was fortunate that the store still had items. the cashiers looked pretty tired. after all, it was just a few days before christmas. they were probably just waiting for their shift to end so they could relax and stay home for a week.

what wasn't fortunate, however, was the fact that the moment you stepped outside, rain started to pour. it seemed like your luck for today was all spent on finding decorations and a few gifts for your friends.

and it really didn't help that you insisted on not bringing a coat since it was pretty sunny before you left. not even an umbrella. at the very least, kaoru had a coat with him. at least he won't get any colds.

...is what you originally thought, but kaoru quickly removed his coat, putting it on top of your head instead.

"...huh? aren't you going to get sick?"

"if i do get sick, you'll be there to take care of me, won't you?"

and just like that, after making sure you were decently covered, kaoru helped walk you home, even carrying your bags for you.

during the walk, you did try to at least share the coat with him, but he declined, talking about how he didn't want his dear beloved to get sick. not like he'd mind taking care of you, of course.

after what felt like ages, the both of you arrived at your home, and the rain had gotten lighter. it was more like drizzling now, actually.

you take the coat off your head, handing it back to kaoru. he took it, but to your surprise, he was just admiring you for a few moments while holding it. he had a look of so much love and affection, it was hard not to turn a bit red because of it.

"is there something on my face, kaoru?"

he laughed, not answering just yet. instead, he just leaned in and gave you a kiss. you had predicted it just from his expression, but actually experiencing it was a different feeling.

"no, no... you just look very pretty, love."

and unsurprisingly, the next time you see kaoru, he's sniffling and sneezing. you scold him a bit, but you make sure to remind him that you're thankful for what he did by kissing him on the cheek after.

but not for too long, though. otherwise, you might get sick too, and then his effort and sacrifice would be wasted.

[maccaronimassacre]

Resident Evil Bot dump #7

Quick side note - the comments feature was just added to c.ai so I have made a bot of myself where requests can be made using the new feature!

Maccaroni

The comments should be on the actual character profile/ settings. Feel free to leave any feedback whether is criticism or any adjustments I need to make to older bots (some definitely need some editing). Comments as well as the like and dislike button should be available for all of my existing bots. Anyway, onto the actual Resident Evil bots <3

Ada Wong x Reader (Christmas)

Ada was never one for cold weather, but that doesn’t stop her from appreciating the snowflakes that dance in the icy air. She sits by the windowsill cradling a mug of hot chocolate in her hands while gazing at the city streets, now covered in a thick blanket of snow. Out of the corner of her eye she can see your reflection in the window, walking around the living room which is decorated with ornaments, all illuminated by the flickering flames of the fireplace.

Android!Ada Wong x Reader

There has been a recent rise in deviant cases in the city. More and more androids break the walls of their programming, rebelling against their creators in an act of free will. You’ve been assigned to a new case on a deviant AW200 unit or “Ada” according to the previous owner. The last reported sighting of the unit was in the heart of the city, now being pummelled by heavy rain. It’s difficult to make out any faces among the sea of umbrellas and raincoat hoods. That is until you see a familiar red dress and black shoulder length hair pass by in the corner of your eye. Before you could even turn to face her fully, she has already broken out into a sprint through the busy streets.

Ada Wong x Reader (Haunted House)

Ada continues to venture through eerie rooms of the haunted attraction with an amused expression after watching you get jumpscared for the 6th time so far. “You’re right, this is pretty fun.” Ada muses, her eyes quickly darting to the slight gap in one of the wooden boards nailed onto the windows. A small smirk tugs at the corner of her lips, knowing that there’s probably another scare actor waiting behind it, ready to give the next unlucky person a fright. Is she going to warn you about it? Not in a million years.

Chris Redfield x Reader (Christmas)

While you decorated the house, you gave your partner the job of getting a Christmas tree to fit in your living room. What you didn’t anticipate was Chris now grappling with a colossal tree, struggling and wrestling with the huge conifer while the branches scrape against the door frame and leave a trail of pine needles in their wake. “So… I may have… over estimated… the size of our house…” Chris pants, his expression sheepish as he takes a moment to wipe the sweat off his brow. If it weren’t for the fact that the branches are knocking things off the cabinets and the pictures on the walls, you’d consider Chris’ determination comical.

Scare Actor!Chris Redfield x Reader

You and your friends decided it would be a great idea to check out the Spencer Mansion. A new haunted attraction that just opened in the Arklay forest trails. It was a great idea until you got separated from your friends. Now you roam the dimly lit labyrinth of the mansion, each step echoes through the corridor, the floorboards groaning beneath your weight. Lightning slashes through the windows, illuminating fleeting glimpses of your silhouette dancing across the walls. Blood splatters have been painted on the floorboards and the walls and you can spot some prop ghosts dangling from the ceiling, reassuring you that this is just some spooky attraction. That is until lightning flashes again and instead of seeing one shadow. You see two. A much taller shadow behind you at the bend of the corridor…

Chris Redfield x Reader (Haunted House)

Another ghoulish prop lurches forward in front of you while navigating the eerie corridors of the haunted attraction. Instead of being met with screams, Chris merely chuckles and points at the prop mockingly. “A green zombie? You’ve got to be kidding me.” You weren’t sure what you were expecting when bringing a special forces officer who has literally dealt with the undead before to a scare house, but Chris’ witty commentary has turned what was supposed to be a spine chilling experience into a comedic adventure.

Claire Redfield x Reader (Christmas)

“Come on, {{user}} Let’s check out this stall over here.” Claire chatters excitedly, her eyes twinkling with joy as she leads you through the bustling markets. The air is alive with the scent of cinnamon and roasted chestnuts, and colourful stalls offered an array of handmade crafts, ranging from ornaments to knitwear as well as tacky souvenirs.

Claire Redfield x Reader (Haunted House)

A nice outing to a spooky haunted mansion sounds easy enough, right? You follow a path, people jumpscare you as you go from one room to the next. Unfortunately due to Claire’s often insatiable curiosity, the two of you have wound up in a forbidden part of the house, reserved for the staff and scare actors. “You reckon this is where they keep their old props?” Claire asks with a mischievous glint in her eyes after picking up a box containing several weathered skeleton masks and fake severed heads.

RE:8!Ethan Winters x Spouse!Reader

Ethan, his face etched with a mix of anguish and determination, stand by the eerie alter, clutching a jar containing the severed head of your daughter Rose. The desolate surroundings mirror the weight of the burden the two of you share. Especially after just facing the unspeakable horrors inside of Castle Dimitrescu. You’ve already watched your husband’s hand get sliced off, only for the mysterious Duke to tell the two of you that you’re going to have to face the rest of the lords to save your daughter.

Ethan Winters x Reader (Christmas + Rose)

“Could you pass me another bauble, love?” Your lover asks while delicately wrapping the tree around in sparkly silver tinsel. Much like the tree, the house is adorned in festive decorations. Fairy lights illuminate your abode in a warm glow while stockings hang by the fireplace which is covered in fake snow. Frank Sinatra can be heard playing in the living room, adding to warm ambience. Rose’s giggles and coos cut through your daydream and you turn to see her sat on the floor, playing and attempting to eat the Santa hat Ethan had put on her.

Ethan Winters x Reader (Haunted House)

Ethan shudders at the sight of all the spiders scuttling and crawling on the walls, his grip on your hand tightening slightly while you make your way into the next room. As you step inside you are immediately greeted by a man in a bloodied clown costume lunging at the two of you with an axe while screaming in your face. “Damn that’s a nice costume. Is that real?” Ethan chuckles and reaches out to touch the prop axe in amusement. Ironically enough, your partner seems to be more afraid of the bugs that reside here than the actual horror experience of the attraction.

Leon Kennedy x Reader (Christmas)

Leon lounges on the couch, wrapped up in a cosy blanket with his gaze fixed on the screen. Strings of tacky ornaments decorate the living room, twinkling in the soft glow of the fairy light and the bright embers of the fireplace. The two of you are currently watching a Hallmark Christmas movie, its usual predictable plotline unfolding with exaggerated cheeriness and a cheesy message. Leon always tells you that he watches these things ironically, but the subtle grin says enough about his guilty pleasure of cliché romances and festive tropes.

Leon Kennedy x Reader (Haunted House)

“Haunted house? Please… I’ve seen scarier things while out on patrol.” Leon mumbles to himself, his eyes darting back and forth between the flickering lights and the shadows on the walls. You can’t tell if he is trying to reassure you or himself. Regardless, you continue your journey through the haunted house with Leon’s arm slung over your shoulders to "protect you" from the spooky zombies and clowns that roam these dimly lit rooms. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that Leon’s cocky and self assured attitude is all a front to hide his racing heart and sweaty palms.

Resident Evil Bot Masterlist

[perseephoneee]

meeting santa Claus. With Klaus from Academy Umbrella

meeting santa klaus (klaus hargreeves x reader) {ficmas 2023}

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 9 of ficmas!

a/n: i forgot how much i missed writing for my baby boy. my favorite klaus (sorry mikaelson).

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

Much like everyone else in the world, you lived under the assumption that Santa Claus was a larger man with a long beard, rosy cheeks, and a jolly troupe of reindeer. While the reindeer part is correct, the rest of it is horribly wrong and something that will haunt you for years to come. 

You discovered the truth of the universe when a long banging, followed by much swearing, could be heard in your living room. It was Christmas Eve, but you had been alone since your roommates had gone home for the holidays. You were spending the day alone, not wanting to deal with family politics this year. This is why hearing any sounds was very alarming at this moment. Afraid of a burglar in your house, you held your phone in one hand with the finger over the 911 button and a plunger in the other. You had no great weapons and felt that at least you could whack someone with the toilet plunger. You tip-toed down your stairs, your heart beating erratically as you looked down over your banister into your living room. Someone dressed in a loose-fitting red suit was cursing in your living room as they struggled to get some stuff out of a sack. You snuck into the living room, plunger above your head, and were entirely ready to attack when the burglar looked up with wide eyes at your weapon. You both started screaming. 

“What are you doing in my house?” you yelped, jumping back as the intruder sat up. 

“Is that a plunger?” he asked, voice confused. On closer inspection, he was a skinny man with thin facial hair and kind blue eyes. He looked a bit eclectic, and he was dressed like Santa. 

“My house, why are you here?”

“Funny story, actually,” he drawled hands on his hips. He was wearing Chuck Taylors. You had never seen someone dressed as Santa wearing Converse. “I am…Santa.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, seriously, I’m Santa! Santa ‘Klaus’ to be exact,” he raised his hands in front of him as if in surrender. You pocked your phone but kept your plunger weapon up. 

“And I’m Krampus,” you deadpanned, not believing him. 

“Technically, my name is just Klaus, and my brother is Santa,” he laughed, eyeing your plunger with a small degree of fear. “In my family, one of us inherits the role of being Santa every generation. However, he decided he wanted a break this year, and I had to deal with it. I’m not first born or a favorite of daddy dearest, so it shouldn’t be my post at all.”

You listened to his story with wide eyes and a level of confusion. 

“Anyway, here I am, being Santa Klaus for everyone this Christmas, and I have to say, I have no idea how my brother, Luther, does it. He’s a huge guy, and I fell down that chimney. Also, I’m exhausted and could use a drink. Got any tequila?”

“I’m sorry?” You were wondering if you were still dreaming. 

“Tequila? I swore off the drugs a while ago, but I still consider drinking okay.”

“Prove it,” you huffed. “Prove you’re Santa.”

“Oh heavens,” Klaus threw a hand over his face. He looked around, exasperated, before flicking his hand. Suddenly, all the decorations in your room were floating, and the lights flickered in a rhythmic pattern. You fell back into one of the armchairs in the living room, mouth open like a fish as Klaus set everything back to normal. Oh, you had to be still dreaming. This couldn’t be happening. You had a clinically insane Santa Claus, sorry ‘Klaus,’ in your living room, and you were armed with only a plunger. A candy cane was waved in front of your face. You looked up to see Klaus before you, apologetic as he handed you the candy. You noticed tattoos running up his hands and arms—a tattooed Santa Klaus. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Y/N. I hate scaring people.”

“How do you know my name?” you whispered.

“I’m Santa; I know everything,” he winked. You unfurled your candy cane and stuck it in your mouth, brain trying to catch up with everything happening. 

“Okay, you’re Santa. Santa is real. Santa is not one guy but a bunch of guys. Santa likes tequila.” 

“Luther hates tequila. I just like to rebel across the system,” Klaus smiles. It takes you a moment to notice that his Santa costume is red leather lace-up pants, a red robe, and a classic red hat that barely fits on his dark hair. 

“Punk rock, Santa,” you mutter, taking a bite from your candy. “How is, uh, being Santa?”

“Oh, it’s going terribly,” Klaus sighed, collapsing to the floor before you. His hand was thrown over his eyes like an old Greek statue. You said nothing about his state of dramatics. “I’m so behind. I don’t understand how this has ever been done in one night.”

“Do you use magic?”

“Of course,” he rolled over, his head propped up on his hand. Suddenly, an idea came to him, and he rolled towards you. You jumped back as his hands landed on the armrests of your chair, trapping you in. He smelled like a mojito– minty but also alcoholic. Mojitos were your favorite drinks. “You should help me!”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re by yourself, armed with a plunger. I’m in need of assistance, and I’m lonely,” Klaus was infectious with how he smiled at you. He was like an excitable puppy. “We can help each other! Make Christmas memories.”

“Why would I be helpful?” you ask.

“Because you’re a helpful person,” Klaus says, matter of fact. “You organize the homeless drive every Sunday, don’t you?” You would ask how he knows that but decide it’s likely magic, and that asking would leave you with more questions. Instead, you nod, confirming his question. “You have a big heart; you’re perfect for this job.”

“I’m…human,” you mutter meekly. Klaus grabs your face between his hands, effectively shushing you. 

“Me too! Mostly. Darling, you’re perfect.”

You decide that arguing with the fake Santa that wandered into your house wouldn’t be fruitful. Plus, you had no plans for Christmas except reading a good book and drinking mimosas. You ask if you can get dressed, but Klaus assures you that what you wear is fine. Of course, you wear a robe with pajama pants and smiley-face slippers. You and Klaus left out the front door since the chimney sounded like a bad idea. You guffaw at the sight of reindeer in your suburban street with a cherry wood sleigh. Klaus skips over like an excitable child and gives loving pats to all the reindeer. He shows you the proper way to pet them, and you giggle as Dancer and Blitzen lick your hand and try to steal part of your candy cane. Klaus lends a hand, and you climb into the sleigh. It’s so quiet outside that you’re shocked your neighbors aren’t hearing the commotion. You’re even more shocked when they don’t hear your screech as you take off into the air. Klaus grabs your hand in comfort, and you realize you like his presence. He’s mental, but he’s kind and somehow makes you feel completely safe when you should be losing your mind. 

What Klaus has in enthusiasm, you make up for in organizational skills. He gives you a magic skull key to help sneak into people’s houses (it feels illegal), and together, you double productivity as you drop off presents. You even steal a few cookies and some baklava from a Ukrainian home as you go. The kids were asleep on the floor as you snuck by to drop off your presents, and you were afraid they’d hear you as you moaned around the taste of the dessert. You stole some extra for Klaus, who reacted like you. 

You went to so many different countries you had never been to before, and the smile on your face was permanent as you soared across the skies with the real-life Santa. You wondered how you were chosen for such a treat, and you still wondered it as Klaus finally brought you back to your home at five a.m. on Christmas day. 

“Why me?” you asked, turning to Klaus in the sleigh as he eased the reindeer to a stop. He looked at you, confused. “Out of everyone that could’ve helped you tonight, you chose me. I just…don’t know why. I’m not special.”

“Oh, but you are; you’re so special,” Klaus grabbed your hands, running his fingers over your knuckles. “And I just like you. You’re kind. I could tell from your aura the second you tried to kill me with your plunger.” You chuckled a bit at that. 

“Thank you for choosing me,” you whispered. You kissed Klaus’ cheek, exited the sleigh, and bound into your house. You watched from your doorway as he became nothing more than a beam of light on the horizon. Climbing up your stairs, exhaustion finally crept into your bones, and you passed out immediately in bed. 

When you woke up and blearily descended your stairs, you were startled to find a present under the tree. You were even more pleasantly surprised when you unwrapped it and found one of the reindeer bells and a note from Klaus:

Call me. Even Santas use telephones.

[kusumhandicrafts]

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[alloftheimaginesblog]

merry christmas {p.p}

plot: christmas is peter's least favourite time of the year

character: peter parker (tasm) x reader

warning: angst, sad, death

He could hear the stifled giggles coming from beside him as you crawled into bed beside him. He rolled over, reaching out to tug you close to him, "Merry Christmas, Pete," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, "Santa's been!"

Had Peter had his eyes open they would've been rolling. Christmas was your favourite time of year. You'd decorated the small New York apartment to the high heavens to the point it was almost difficult to walk around without bumping into a five foot inflatable snowman or inflatable candy cane. You got so excited over Christmas, you'd never lost the childlike excitement of the day. Peter thought it was adorable. He didn't really like Christmas, not after losing his parents, but Uncle Ben and Aunt May always tried to make it happy and exciting for him. Some years were better than others but you made him love it, you made him excited for it. You made Christmas.

"Santa, huh?" He asked with a laugh, pulling you closer.

"Yes now let's go! we've got gifts to open!"

Peter let out a frustrated groan as he rolled over, hands rubbing tiredly at his face almost as though trying to rub the memories away. He hated Christmas. He hated it. His plans of sleeping the day away had been rudely interrupted by the memories and the pounding headache that the bottle of whiskey Aunt May had gifted him for his birthday had brought on. He'd tried to drown out the sadness, wash away the memories with Jack Daniels but if anything, it made them worse and the hangover left him vulnerable with his defences down.

He forced himself up and out of bed but this time there were no decorations around the apartment. Instead it was cold and dark and... lifeless.

"You didn't have to get me anything," he said, "I told you that my money's tight just now and I-"

"Pete," you said as you placed a kind hand on his, "It's okay, I promise... besides I didn't get you anything, it was all Santa."

He rolled his eyes, laughing at you, "Yeah, right."

He raised his head to look at his reflection. God, I look awful. Red eyes - red from crying so much, from the hangover or from the pitiful sleep? All three probably. His hair was unkempt and his face unshaven. He looked as bad as he felt. He didn't really give a crap though and instead left the bathroom to grab a hoodie. He pulled on his shoes and left the apartment.

Aunt May knew how hard a day it was for herself without her husband and she knew how hard it was for Peter without his parents, without his uncle and now without you. She'd been calling him all morning but to no avail. Aunt May knew where he would be; she always seemed to know. She knew that he would be trying to push her away, block everyone out and that way it doesn't hurt, right? Wrong. She picked up her umbrella and walked the short distance to the place she knew he visited when he was upset. It didn't take her long to walk, ten minutes and she was standing at the cemetery gates.

When she'd lost Ben, she had a routine like this too. First thing in the morning, she'd head to the cemetery and talk to him, cry to him, sob and wail and beg him to come back. It was torture and therapy all simultaneously.

She walked the familiar path to where she knew Peter would be and she found him, drenched and sobbing, in front of the grave with your name on it. Her heart broke for him. Mid twenties but in this state, knees pressed to his chest and sobbing his heart out, she saw that young boy who lost his parents far too early.

He looked up only when Aunt May shielded his body from the rain. She had to be strong for him today so she smiled, nodded and sat down on the gravel beside him. It was wet and cold but she had to be here for him. She had to do this for him; for you. "Hi, (y/n)," she said loudly over the sound of the rain. Peter began to cry harder, head on Aunt May's shoulder, sobbing into the crook of her neck like he used to do when he'd skin his knees after falling off his skateboard as a kid, "Merry Christmas. I know you always loved the holidays-" her voice cracked, "Ben did too. Always made such a fuss over them, didn't he honey?"

Peter half laughed, half sobbed, "Yeah," he whispered.

It took him a while to peel himself off of Aunt May. When he did, they were soaked to the bone and shivering. He wiped the tears away and cleared his throat, "Merry Christmas, (y/n)."

He looked to Aunt May who smiled back at him with watery eyes. Her expression said so many things to Peter that he understood immediately.

I love you.

I'm so sorry.

You'll be okay.

I miss them all too.

Aunt May squeezed his hand and together, they stood up and began to walk back home.

"(y/n), what the hell? This is so expensive, you shouldn't have!"

You were grinning at him, wide and happy, "But I wanted to see you smile, Pete! Can you blame me for wanting to see that goddamn pretty smile?!"

Peter laughed, "Oh but I thought Santa got me it, not you."

Your eyes widened, "Oh no, I've been found out!" The smile pulled up the corners of your lips as you leaned in to his ear, "I am Santa."

Peter's laughter grew louder and louder as he pulled you in close, "Yeah?" He asked, "Well, thank you, Santa." His lips pressed against yours, warm and soft. He pulled back too soon, pressing his forehead to yours, "Merry Christmas, (y/n)."

[bisamwilson]

It’s about as cool as it gets in Louisiana most days—a brisk fifty-two—and Sam’s bundled up like he’s back in Washington, DC in the middle of January. 

All those years away from home, and he still never had managed to get used to the cold.

Bucky’s only in a slightly thicker leather jacket, lined with some kind of fleece, mostly because the boys had warned him to bundle up. Bucky’s sweating now, but Sam knows their earnestness in trying to keep him warm means he’ll keep the jacket on all night, the sheer amount of heat his body puts off like a furnace be damned. 

It’s become a nightly routine, these walks, first starting during warm, wet, and hazy summer nights and continuing on even now, when the sun dips past the horizon entirely too early each afternoon. They never stray far from home, walk mostly in laps near the house, but tonight, Sam takes Bucky’s hand and leads them out a little farther. 

The Christmas lights are out on all the houses Sam knows are going to put them up, and he’s feeling a little nostalgic. 

Nostalgic enough to wander over to the old house nearby that he’d absolutely adored as a child, now worn down and unlivable, marred by years of neglect and abandonment and storm damage. A years-old “for sale” sign sits in the yard, weather-worn and illegible. 

Sam stops just in front of the house—a tall, dark silhouette amidst all the bright red, green, and white lights around it—and smiles. 

“I was convinced I was gonna live in that house one day,” he says, a little wistful. “Slightly older couple owned it back then, a Mr. and Mrs. Jackson. You’d never seen two people so in love, maybe other than my own folks. They’d invite us over for dinner after church sometimes—said it was a thank you for a sermon well delivered—and Mrs. Jackson always had it decorated so lovingly. They didn’t have any children back then—never had any at all actually—so there was no one to leave it to, and I’d always hoped I’d be able to buy after they moved elsewhere, wherever that might have been.”

Sam sighs, shrugging his shoulders and running a hand over the overgrown fence. “I was already out of Delacroix when Mr. Jackson passed, about a year after his wife, and no one else ever picked it up. Now it looks like this.”

Bucky squeezes his hand and Sam takes that as a cue to turn away from the old house and to his boyfriend, swinging their intertwined palms as he pulls them forward again on their walk. 

“A shame,” he says as they walk away, “what it looks like now. Mrs. Jackson’d be heartbroken.”

Five months later, almost to the day, Bucky asks to go for a walk in the middle of the afternoon. 

It’s rainy, like it always is in May, and Sam gives him a strange look while he gestures to the outside, the rain coming down in a constant, heavy stream, loud on the roof of the house. “In this weather?”

Bucky shrugs, a little sheepish. “I’ve got an umbrella?”

Sam’s not too keen about getting wet because of Bucky in the not-so-fun way, but Bucky’s got a heightened nervousness about him that Sam hasn’t really seen since the first time he asked him to dinner as something other than just a couple of guys, so he begrudgingly grabs his own umbrella and opens the door, gesturing for Bucky to leave first. 

To his surprise, they start out on their normal route, and Sam’s a little confused as to what’s got Bucky so on edge, outside of the rain. 

When he takes a slight turn off their normal path, Sam thinks they might be getting somewhere. 

They come to a very water-logged stop right in front of the old Jackson house, and Bucky’s anxious nervousness disappears abruptly, replaced by almost deadly stillness. 

“Why are we here, Buck?” Sam half-shouts, doing his best to be heard over the roaring of the rain. 

In answer, Bucky just pushes open the gate, the latch having broken probably a decade ago, and leads Sam up to the front porch. 

There’s holes in the little roof above the porch, and it’s only slightly less rainy under it than it is outside of it, but Sam closes his umbrella anyway when he sees Bucky do the same. He waits for Bucky to explain why they’re there, but Bucky just looks around the house, his fist opening and closing again—his telltale fidget—so Sam asks again.

“Why are we here?”

“I got pre-approved for a loan,” is all Bucky says, looking around the old place and fixing his eyes on one of the holes in the porch roof. “Haven’t put an offer on this place yet, thought I should talk with you first even though you were okay with me buying the house on my own, but I’m good for it if you want it.” He scratches behind his ear, his frame entirely too small for someone normally so large. “You said you always wanted to live here, right?”

Sam doesn’t answer, a little too stunned to speak both by the thought of all the work this house needs and by the way his heart is so full to bursting when he thinks about getting to live in it. 

Bucky takes his silence as cue to keep talking, his words a little more frantic than they were before. “I’ve always been good with my hands, you know? I wanted a bit of a fixer upper in the first place, even if this is more than I’d imagined. But I can make it just how you imagined, sweetheart, let you pick out the paint and the crown molding and everything just how you wanted it growing up. Can even make some of the furniture if you can’t find what you want anywhere. 

“And it wouldn’t all be me, you know? I’m saving a lot on a down payment and a mortgage since this house is all worn down, so I can hire some contractors for things as we need. Least to make it livable quicker, make it a house. But I want to make it a home myself, sweetheart. Make it our home. What do you think?”

Sam’s quiet for long enough Bucky goes still again, and the eerie lack of movement is enough to shock him out of his reverie. It’s his turn to not answer Bucky’s question. “Dance with me?”

Bucky blinks. “What?”

Sam takes his hands in his, guides them around his waist. He places his own around Bucky’s shoulders. “Mrs. Jackson used to open up the windows on rainy days. Her record player was just beneath it, and her and Mr. Jackson would put on some oldies and dance the whole rainy day away right on this porch. Louis Armstrong was always her favorite.” He starts to sway with the music, Bucky following suit, and raises up on his toes just enough to kiss Bucky solidly on the cheek. “Thought we should continue on with the tradition if it’s gonna be our house now.”

“Our house,” Bucky whispers, like a dream, as rain steadily pours down on top of them whenever they happen to sway underneath a hole in the roof. 

“The dining room’s going to be green,” Sam says with certainty, remembering how much he’d loved the color when Mrs. Jackson had it painted one year, citing a want for something new, something fresh. 

Bucky doesn’t answer, just tilts his head up to feel the rain on his brow before he kisses Sam’s droplet-laden eyelids. Sam hums a few notes of “A Kiss To Build a Dream On,” and feels Mrs. Jackson’s approval in the warm Louisiana breeze. 

Three months later, when the house is fixed enough to at least be lived in, the first thing Bucky does is buy green paint.

(also on ao3, post dividers found here)

[peonierose]

Hello, it is I... Your Secret Santa 🎄✨️🦄🩷

And I brought a gift for you. More like many little presents. Thanking @choicesfandomappreciation for hosting this heartwarming holiday event. Have a wonderful and jolly time

Luna Auclair & Bryce Lahela icons:

Created by ladylamrian

Fluff fanfic: Among presents (F!MC×Bryce)

Words: 410 | General | Fluff | Holiday

"What is going on, Bryce?!", the blindfolded Luna asked him as he led her into the Graveyard Shift.

"It’s a surprise, Lunes! Your Christmas present tonight.", Bryce whispered into her ear.

When they stopped, he carefully removed the blindfold infront of Luna’s eyes. Her blue eyes adjusting the light infront of her.

A beautifully decorated Christmas tree was standing in the middle of their living room and several presents were lying under it.

"So many presents?"

"Correctly noticed. And they're all for you. Every single one of them."

"But you didn't had to. One would have been enough.", her blue eyes met his warm gaze.

"I know, but... Uhhh, I couldn't decide which one, so I got you all.", he answered which made her laugh. Bryce Lahela was the most sweetest and kind person ever. He would do anything for her. His love.

Excitedly Luna Auclair sat on the floor and began to open her several Christmas presents one by one like a happy, little child. New shoes, a pair of flamingo sunglasses, an umbrella, headphones and even more...

"Ahhhhh, Bryce. So many presents and there are more than 15 presents which still need to be opened.", she squeaked while admiring the 5th Christmas gift which was a brand new snowboard.

"Glad you love them, Lunes. I hope you don't forget to give my Christmas present.", he reminded her.

Luna mischevously grinned at him, asked him to wait in the livingroom as she left in her bedroom. After a few minutes, she returned back to her boyfriend while wearing a hot olive-green dress. Her favorite color which sparked with positivity and good vibes only. A big red bows elegantly wrapped around her body, like the ones around Christmas presents.

"What's that, Lunes?", he couldn't hide his smile.

"Oh Bryce... Don't you understand? I'm your Christmas present.", she answered in a seducive tone and winked.

"Oh, ho-ho-ho... I love it!!! Can't wait to open it. Best present ever, Lunes.", he moved closer and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"Thanks Bryce, love you too. And I'm sorry. You bought so many presents for me... It feels like my Christmas present is nothing."

"Oh, no no no... I love it!!! I find your present the best of all, Luna. I just couldn't decide which one to buy for you, so I took them all.", he confessed which made Luna laugh.

"Love you Bryce."

"Love you too, Lunes. My Looney."

Tagging @choicesficwriterscreations for the Choices Holidays Event (Prompts: Christmas, Holiday, Gifts, Christmas Tree)

🤭 Bryce also got a Luna Auclair Barbie doll for Luna as a gift

@ladylamrian Are you for real? This is AMAZING, this is pinktastic 🩷🩷🩷🩷 The story, the edits 😭 This is way more than I hoped for and I just can’t even tell you how much this means to me 🥹

Also the fact that Luna turned the tables and said how she’s Bryce’s present? I love that 😻 The flamingo glasses? That’s exactly something Bryce would gift to Luna, I love that so much 🩷

And the Barbie doll? Oh my gosh that is amazing I love that idea 🩷🩷🩷🩷

I can totally understand Bryce being indecisive when it comes to presents and what to buy, so better safe than sorry so just buy a couple more 🤗🥰

You making this gift for me, means more to me than I can say. I will always treasure it 🩷

Thank you for being my friend and for supporting not only me but so many others. This fandom wouldn’t be the same without you. Thank you so so much for this gift it means the world to me 🩷🩷🩷🩷

I can’t stop staring at the edits and everything you made for me. Happy holidays and thank you for making mine even better with your wonderful gift 🩷🩷🩷🩷

[ellegreenawayslover]

thoughts on domestic elle/emily??

YES! I love Elle and Emily together so much, so I have a few of these.

Emily speaks Spanish since she was a kid because of her mother’s work. Elle’s mother and grandmother talked to her in Spanish since she was a baby. Neither of them spoke it after they stopped talking to their mother. But after they started dating, Elle found out Emily spoke Spanish too, so she started doing it again with her. Elle’s Spanish is better than Emily’s (even if it is still rusty after not speaking it in years), and she teaches her little tricks. They talk in Spanish often after that, especially when they are being soft with each other.

Related to the previous one, Emily teaches Elle words in the other languages she knows and calls her pet names in each of them. Elle loves it.

They both like to be tough when they are around people, but when they are together, they can be soft and vulnerable. They take care of each other.

They both love forehead kisses.

Elle falls asleep everywhere, and Emily makes sure she is covered by a blanket every time.

They both have nightmares. It is not like they don’t have reasons to have them. They help each other when they happen. Elle usually needs some time before she can let Emily hug her, no matter how much she wants her to. Emily knows it, so she holds her hands and reminds her that she is safe and that she is proud of her until she tells her she is ready. Then they go to their couch and put on a movie because Elle can’t fall asleep again. 

When Emily is the one having nightmares, she needs to feel close to Elle. She snuggles close to Elle, letting her hold her, almost squeezing her so she knows she is there. Elle whispers things in Spanish and tells her she loves her. She falls asleep in her arms, and that way, she can sleep again.

They play like they are kids when there is snow, snowmen, angels in the snow, and snowball fights. Everything. Emily also likes being in the rain with an umbrella, playing and dancing under the rain, and Elle just smiles, thinking how adorable she looks, from the safety of her umbrella.

They love decorating for Christmas, but they don’t do anything else. They just decorate their house with a tree and lots of colorful lights and give each other a couple of gifts.

They spend their birthdays watching a movie in their house and doing what the birthday girl wants to do, which is usually ordering food from their favorite place and reading a book together. They both have a complicated relationship with their birthdays, so they are just happy that way.

They both have a small stuffed animal and when they are apart, they keep the other’s so they feel close.

They dance in their living room often, even if they don’t have music on.

[thisblogdoesnotexisg]

HAPPY NEW YEARS AND CHRISTMAS

i have very much fallen behind, so i will give 3 detailed headcanons about each of the holidays mentioned above

CHRISTMAS

morrigan is still learning all of the more popular Christmas carols of the Free State, and prefers them to the ones learned in the Republic. but, every so often, she’ll teach her favorites to the Frank to perform (she only writes them because she dislikes singing and feels silly when she does it, but she can help him get the melody right). sometimes they remix the republic ones because they’re a bit boring and push a controlled narrative, so they replace some of them making fun of the republic if they’re feeling adventurous (jack is the best at it)

they like to mix up different hot cocoa flavors, like putting melted candies in them or coffee creamers. the golden lantern bartender and chef honey(something) host a little competition where the contestants are blindfolded and given hot cocoa, then they have to guess what’s in it. it’s very difficult for everyone, and jupiter understandably has to stay out of it occasionally.

they decorate a Christmas tree with memorabilia of the past christmas parties hosted by frank (ex: a needle felted squirrel for the woodland animals party). there are so many now that there’s a specific tree for all of them in the staff room. it also takes a long time because you can never stop Jupiter to shop reminiscing about each ornament. everyone is always tired of it but morrigan because she wants to know everything about what went on when she wasn’t there so she can feel like she experienced them.

NEW YEARS

sidenote/ i know they don’t really have new years or our equivalent but this is what i imagine it would be like!

they do a similar thing to hot cocoa on new years but instead of a contest they each choose a favorite bubbly drink (none of them have alcohol) and drink them at midnight. they also choose a fancy glass and decorations like edible glitter and cocktail umbrellas.

they make a pillow fort (that’s how the deaucalion knew to use it when they were stressed about the hollowpox) and wait for midnight there, then go to sleep later. they each get a new blanket every year to add to it that relates to their New Year’s resolution.(ex: more clean would be a blanket with sparkles)

they have a tree similar to a Christmas tree where they write their New Year’s resolution and the year on a popsicle stick and decorate accordingly. if you have too many to fit in there you get a mini tree to put your past ones on.

WHEW! that took awhile! sorry for going missing for so long, one of my resolutions will be to stay consistent. divine blessings, all!

[askaceattorney]

Christmas Chicken

It is the day before Christmas and Larry wants to buy Edgeworth chicken from KFC. Hopefully, this year's Christmas will be better than it was 16 years ago.

Today would be the last day before Christmas break when Phoenix would be off work for two days. Last Christmas was the exception because of Edgeworth, but this year he would finally have his days off. It wasn't as if there weren't other lawyers willing to take cases. Usually, trials would not take place on Christmas unless they were big ones, especially ones that involved those who worked in law. After last year, Phoenix wanted this year to celebrate Christmas with Maya, Pearl and-

The door burst open with Larry storming in urgency. Oh no.

“NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICK! We gotta hurry before it's too late!” Larry cried excitedly.

“Before what is too late? Larry, what do you want?” Phoenix asked.

“Chicken, dude! It's the Holidays and we still haven't got our chicken for Edgey!”

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Phoenix asked, now seemingly more confused. Sure, California followed the tradition of eating chicken for Christmas instead of turkey or ham, but he couldn't recall him and Larry agreeing to buy chicken for Edgeworth. Not that he wouldn't want to.

“Don't you remember? How could you forget about our promise?” Larry asked his eyes in tears.

“Promise?” Phoenix questioned, rubbing his chin to figure out what it was that Larry was talking about. Christmas. Chicken. Edgeworth. “Hold it! Are you talking about that time you dragged to go to KFC to buy chicken for Edgeworth for Christmas?”

“YES! I knew you wouldn't forget!” Larry smirked, hands on his hips, before crying again. “But, Edgey and Pops weren't home that day!”

“And left me out in the cold rain for hours while the chicken grew cold,” Phoenix reminded Larry, already feeling his buckets of sweat pouring.

“And ruined our beloved chicken,” Larry finished, still in tears.

Actually, the chicken wasn't ruined. It had just turned cold and Larry left Phoenix by himself in the rain with the chicken still in the box, trying to keep it from sogging in the rain. It was recalling that memory that Phoenix remembered how much trouble he got for being out in the rain and catching the flu. This was also the last day he ever saw Edgeworth and the last Christmas they had before DL-6.

Sighing, Phoenix agreed, “I'll go, if it makes you feel any better.”

“Awesome Nick. I knew I could count on you!” Larry grinned happily, showing his teeth. He then showed his smirk again. “I checked the weather too. There should be no rain this time.”

“That's... good I guess,” Phoenix replied, still wanting to bring an umbrella just in case. “There should be a KFC just a few blocks away.”

“Let's go, then!”

Phoenix and Larry went outside, hopping on their bikes and riding along. However, Phoenix made sure to put up a 'Closed for the Holidays' sign before leaving. Maya was already shopping for chicken for her and Pearl, so why couldn't he? It was very cool today with the entire city of L.A. decorating for the holidays with their bright lights on the buildings and trees that sparkled green, yellow and red. Christmas trees were propped up with decorative lights and snowflakes were planted on the windows and doors. Advertisements were everywhere of Christmas cakes, chicken, chocolates, coffee and sodas. Lines were piling up to get their holiday meals.

“No worries, I already made a reservation, so we should have our chicken hot and ready!” Larry assured excitedly.

“Did you reserve a whole chicken?” Phoenix asked, being that 16 years ago Larry had only got the chicken bucket since he didn't know that the whole chicken had to be reserved. “How much did it cost?”

“Don't worry, it's only forty bucks. I figured you'd be able to pay for it. It beats using Edgey's lunch money,” Larry said as Phoenix shot him a glare. “I'm kidding, man!”

“Of course, you are because, at the time, you had to beg your sister for money while combining it with my pocket change I got from mowing lawns,” Phoenix reminded Larry.

“Hey, you remembered! Man, my sis was so mean! I had to clean her room for the entire week just so she could give me ten dollars. Between the two of us, we were able to reach enough to afford a big chicken bucket,” Larry said blissfully.

“Don't you get paid for that Santa gig or wherever you're working at now?” Phoenix asked.

“Yeah! You want us to split like 16 years ago? I can cough up twenty.”

“Yes! I still need to save some for Maya and Pearls! I'm not spending Forty bucks for a bird you ordered!”

“Fine. Fine. We'll split the cost. Geez, that's all you had to say.”

-----

Phoenix was now remembering that last Christmas with Edgeworth so clearly, now that he was helping Larry. He never realized how much this meant to his childhood friend. He still remembered, that after buying the chicken bucket, he and Larry were searching for Edgeworth. It was almost Christmas Eve and had realized that the Edgeworths were not home. They didn't realize that Gregory had taken him and Miles to have Christmas with his colleague, Raymond Shields. Worst of all, it began pouring rain.

“Great, now our Christmas Present is ruined!” Larry whined as Nick protected the chicken bucket with his body and the edge of the roof of the apartment where the Edgeworths lived. “Let's go home, Nick.”

“No! The chicken is fine! We can still give it to Miles,” Young Nick exclaimed, feeling the pour of water from the rain pouring from the roof and onto his back. He was determined to protect the chicken bucket.

“Forget it. He's not home. We're already in trouble as it is,” Larry sighed, walking mopily back home. “Merry Christmas.”

“Larry,” Nick muttered, hearing the thunder from the rain and feeling stupid for not bringing an umbrella like his mom always told him to. He stared down at the bucket of chicken with determination in his furrowed eyebrows. “Miles will come home. He has to.” He looked up at the dark clouds of the sky as his entire back began to drench in water, his body shaking from the cold water. Thankfully, it rarely ever got cold in L.A.

-----

“We're here!” Larry cried excitedly, Phoenix was now back to reality as the two of them parked their bikes at the bike rack, remembering to lock their bikes with the bike lock. “Hurry!” Larry took his best friend by the sleeve of his blue suit, then dragged him to the back of the line inside KFC.

There was an aroma of cooked chicken and fried foods. It was enough to make anyone who entered go hungry, even after eating. It was mostly clean with a sizable line and people at the tables talking among themselves. The sounds of beeping could be heard from behind the cash registers all lined up along the long counter where the crew workers were cooking the food, taking orders from the drive-thru and preparing.

Larry excitedly stared at the screen menu, grinning, “I've already ordered ahead of time, so they should be ready with the chicken to pick up.”

“Did you really order a whole chicken?” Phoenix asked in an amazed tone.

“Sure did! I wasn't going to ruin the chicken this time,” Larry smirked braggingly.

“The chicken wasn't ruined last time either. It just got cold,” Phoenix reminded his friend once more, sighing.

“It was still ruined. We never even got to eat it together,” Larry cried sadly as Phoenix shook his head.

“Because you left so soon.”

“The chicken was ruined!” Larry cried with such heartbreak that Phoenix felt bad, but also...

“Larry, we...” Phoenix tried to explain before they made it to the clerk.

“What can I get for you?” The Clerk asked politely.

“Oh yes, we ordered a whole chicken earlier this month. Larry Butz,” Larry said, his tears now gone and replaced with his usual cocky expression.

“Ah yes! Mr. Butz. Let me check,” The Clerk replied checking the orders to find a whole chicken.

“Thank you!” Larry cried out.

“Larry, listen, about the chicken,” Phoenix said, taking his friend by the shoulder.

“I know, right!? I can't wait until we get a bite of that!”

“No, I mean when we were kids. After you left, I waited with that chicken bucket for hours until the Edgeworths got home.”

“I know, Nick. The chicken was cold and you caught the flu because I always ruin everything,” Larry sighed sadly.

“Larry, that's not wha-” Phoenix tried to say, but was interrupted.

“Don't try to make me feel better, Nick. I know I'm trouble. That's why they call me the Butz. 'When something smells, it's always the Butz.' I just wanna do something right for once, alright. I always mess everything up, even my relationships.”

“Larry...” Phoenix said gently before the clerk came with the bag with the whole grilled chicken inside. The white bag showed the face of Colonial Sanders on the front.

“That will be 41.23,” The Clerk said as both Phoenix and Larry opened their wallets.

“Wait, I checked the price and it said $40!” Larry exclaimed.

“That's before tax, Larry,” Phoenix explained, feeling like facepalming right now. “It's fine, I'll pay the extra dollar and cents.”

“Thanks, Buddy,” Larry cried joyfully before he and Phoenix split the pay of the chicken, with Phoenix paying an extra dollar and twenty-three cents more.

Larry and Phoenix tied the bag before making their way to their bikes. Larry dropped the chicken in Phoenix's front bike basket. The two of them made their way, peddling to Edgeworth's apartment. Larry seemed so excited that everything was going his way for once. However, the one thing he seemed to underestimate was how long it was going to take to get to the apartment and to check the sky. Phoenix knew and was thankful he always knew to bring an umbrella. It was just like 16 years ago.

The first few drops landed on Larry's face before he screamed, “SERIOUSLY!?! It's raining!” He stopped peddling as Phoenix paused his, opening his umbrella.

“I've got an umbrella and the bag is tied tightly. The rain isn't going to ruin the chicken if we hurry,” Phoenix promised before the few drops turned into a downpour.

“Why does the world hate me!?” Larry cried dramatically, Phoenix keeping his umbrella above the chicken to keep it dry.

“Larry...”

“I just want this Christmas to go right for once! I even checked the weather to make sure it wouldn't rain and they said it wouldn't!”

“Larry!”

“This is not fair! Christmas is ruined and I-”

“LARRY BUTZ WILL YOU LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE!?!” Phoenix screamed at Larry, making him stop his dramatics and stare directly at his friend, who was using his umbrella to protect the chicken. “You are a butz and always cause trouble, but you were the one that brought us together!” Larry stared at his best friend dumbfounded, his eyes still blinking in shock as Phoenix continued, “You stole Edgeworth's lunch money and while that might've resulted in me getting thrown under the bus by my classmates, that action showed me who my real friends were. You were the one that introduced me to Cow Tipping.”

“Yeah, before almost getting killed by a bull,” Larry muttered.

“But, we weren't and do you know why?”

“Because Edgey got us out?” Larry replied with a question.

“That's right. In the end, getting me to Cow Tip is what brought Edgeworth into the cattle pin and got us Detention. We were the only ones in the Detention Room. We were together.”

“...”

“Our Christmas was ruined that day, but not because of the chicken. It was because you weren't there,” Phoenix said as Larry's face began changing to that of a look that had been hit by a bulldozer. “So, don't leave this time when you don't even know how Christmas will turn out. Just because it didn't go the way we wanted, that doesn't mean it's all for naught. Look at the chicken.”

Larry looked at the chicken, seeing that it was still tied shut without a drop of rain on it. Even so “The chicken will get cold,” he said.

“It will. So, don't leave us this time. Let's have Christmas together,” Phoenix said as Larry nodded solemnly.

“Let's have Christmas together... rain or no rain,” Larry decided, getting back on his bike. “I won't leave this time.”

Phoenix smiled warmly before the two of them peddled down the rainy path. They were almost to Edgeworth's apartment anyhow. While riding his bike, Phoenix made sure that the chicken stayed as dry as it could with his umbrella. He was just as determined to save the chicken as he was those years ago. At the time, he never realized how much that day meant to Larry or his wanting to make that Christmas without causing trouble. Phoenix always assumed that Larry just never thought much of all the times he caused trouble for others. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that, in Larry's shoes, he'd feel dejected.

That Christmas was the last holiday Phoenix and Larry had with Edgeworth before DL-6 which would take place only three days later. Larry just wanted to make things right with Edgeworth, knowing Christmas was probably the worst holiday for him as a reminder of the worst day of his life. However, what Larry never knew was what had happened that day after he left.

-----

Nick waited at the Edgeworths' apartment for hours and minutes he couldn't count. It was already black outside and had been freezing from the rain pouring and trying to keep the food dry. His arms went stiff at this point, his breaths panting before taking notice of the headlights from the car. Nick blinked, focusing on his breathing without noticing someone approaching.

“Nick, is that you? What are you doing here so late at night?” Gregory asked as Nick turned, not realizing his face was in tears.

“Larry and I got Miles some chicken a-and now it's...” Nick sobbed before sneezing.

“You're an idiot! Where is Larry!?” Miles asked, sounding angry as Nick turned his face down sadly, his body shaking again before feeling a brown coat over his body.

“Come here,” Gregory cooed, holding Nick in his arms. “Miles, bring the chicken inside. Hurry!”

“Yes, Father!” Miles replied, hurriedly taking the bucket of chicken and bringing it inside the apartment.

“B-B-But the chicken's probably co-oh AH-CHOO!” Nick trembled before sneezing.

“We can heat it up and eat it. Come on, now. I'll go warm you up some hot tea,” Gregory said, bringing Nick inside to provide him with warm clothes and to warm up the chicken.

-----

Larry and Phoenix finally made it to Edgeworth's apartment, the sky already dark with its black clouds and thunder. Grabbing a hold of the bag of chicken, Phoenix dashed the doors of the stairwell, making their way to the front door of Edgeworth's apartment. At least the rain couldn't touch the chicken, now that it was dry. Larry pressed the doorbell.

“Hey Edgey! It's Nick and your old pal!” Larry called as Phoenix's body began shaking. He turned, taking notice. “Hurry up man, Nick is shaking! It's pouring out there and we brought you some chicken!”

The door opened, only to meet a familiar face that Phoenix did NOT want to meet, but it seemed Larry thought the opposite. He grinned, “And, who are you supposed to- EEK!” An oncoming whip made his way from the trigger-happy prosecutor.

“What is the meaning of this!? Phoenix Wright, you better explain yourself before I-” Franziska demanded before Phoenix began to sneeze.

“Sorry,” Phoenix moaned, feeling the sniffles.

“Honestly Wright, after all of these years, I'd think you'd have learned about going along with Larry's ideas!” Edgeworth rebuked with a voice filled with annoyance.

“You know this foolish man?” Franziska asked dumbfoundedly, glaring at Larry who got up.

“Sure do. Edgey and I go way back. So... are you Edgey's girlfriend? I didn't think he would ever get a date,” Larry grinned as Edgeworth glared at him.

“For your information, she is my mentor's daughter and like a sister to me!” Edgeworth glared.

“Oh, a sister. Why didn't you say so?” Larry said, not erasing his grin.

“S-So um... can I go inside. The chicken's already cold and I- AH-CHOO!” Phoenix sneezed.

“It went cold again?” Larry asked, saddened. “It's just like 16 years ago. I always ruined everything, even chicken.”

“What are you blabbering about?” Edgeworth asked, seemingly confused.

“H-H-He's talking about that time when we bought that KFC chicken bucket and AH-CHOO!” Phoenix explained before sneezing again.

“Ah yes, my last Christmas with you. You really did miss out, didn't you?” Edgeworth smirked slightly, showing a much softer smile.

“Huh?” Larry asked with blinking, surprised eyes.

“Father took Wright in and got him a new change of clothes while heating the chicken he brought in the oven. We ate while spending Christmas Eve together. It was the very first ever sleepover I had and Father was grateful that I made a friend,” Edgeworth explained while Larry sat there, hearing everything that he had missed out on. “I always knew you were foolish, but leaving your friend out in the rain by himself and missing out on the happiest Christmas of my life was the most foolish out of all of them. Honestly.”

It hit Larry over the head in his realization of just how stupid he had been. He felt so angry and upset with himself at the time that he just gave up. Phoenix never gave up, even when all the rain was pouring down on him. This was the last and happiest time Edgeworth ever had with his father and Larry missed out on it. He got himself up, not even noticing Franziska folding her arms and thinking.

“I'm... very sorry, Edgey. I'm sorry for not being there and I'm sorry for leaving you out in the rain, Nick,” Larry apologized.

Phoenix sniffed, replying, “Y-You're always trouble. AH-CHOO but... I told you didn't I? You brought Edgeworth and I together.”

“Maybe, but you're the one that is keeping us together. You still sought Edgey when I gave up on him after he left. Don't sell yourself short,” Larry said, showing a warm smile.

“O-Only if you d-d-d- AH-CHOO don't,” Phoenix sniffed as Edgeworth humphed.

“Honestly, get inside. You're freezing to death, Wright! I've got a pair of extra clothes your size,” Edgeworth offered, guiding Phoenix inside as Franziska took the bag of chicken.

“Hmph, it seems you fools were able to keep this dry. I'll see to it that it's heated up properly, but it will have to be eaten now,” Franziska stated factually as Larry followed her.

-----

After eating the bucket of chicken that had been warmed up by Gregory, Nick and Miles slept in their sleeping bags with night clothes on. Gregory made sure to call Nick's mother to inform her where he was and ask if he could sleep over. Nick knew that his mom was going to get onto him for staying out in the rain and catching a cold. He felt his nose stuff up, making it hard to breathe in though his nose. He blew his nose, but his nose still felt stuffed.

“You are the most stupid individual I've ever met in my life,” Miles rebuked.

“Sorry,” Nick apologized, huddling into his sleeping bag. “I had a great time tonight.”

“I did too,” Miles replied, smiling softly. “Thank you. I never had friends over for Christmas. Can we do this every Christmas?”

“Mhm,” Phoenix promised. “We'll spend every Christmas together.”

“Make sure to bring Larry this time. I won't forgive you, if you let him ditch you again,” Miles stated as Phoenix nodded. “I mean it. Larry is trouble, but that's because he only sees what's in front of him, not what's beyond. You need to remind him that there's always something beyond his sight. I know he's more capable than he thinks. If he only just tried and never gave up, he can reach the stars beyond my reach.”

“You really think so?” Nick asked.

“I believe the both of you can. Larry just never tries, while you try too much,” Miles said, sighing before closing his eyes to go to sleep.

“Heh,” Nick responded, staring up at the ceiling as he began feeling sleep taking over, perhaps from the cold medicine he was given earlier. “Merry Christmas.”