#secret santa snippets 2024

[the-modern-typewriter]

The villain, who doesn't typically celebrate much anything gets invited to an event (holiday, gala, birthday, etc) by hero with no strings attached.

This is a Secret Santa snippet gift @snowshowerwriting 😊 Have a great one! I hope you enjoy.

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“…And I was just wondering if, maybe, if you’re not too busy, you’d want to go with me?”

The villain stared at the hero for a long moment, watching the colour slowly creep up the hero’s cheeks and all the way up to the tips of their ears.

Snow begin to drift and eddy lazily on the empty rooftop around them.

“Only if you want to,” the hero said. “Sorry. You’re probably too busy, what with being…you. Forget I asked! It’s not a big deal or anything I just—”

“—You want me to go to the peace ball with you.”

“Only if you want to!”

“Why?”

The villain could think of a dozen reasons why, but none of them exactly fitted with their impression of the hero in front of them.

The annual peace ball was a tinsel-strewn, glittering festive affair designed to promote good will across the city by forcing all heroes and villains to join together in a night of absolute truce. No fighting. So help anyone who tried scheming, though of course everyone still did. Good will to all super-powered men, women and others on earth!

The villain had been invited before, in the first few years that the ball was hosted, by a few of the boldest players on either side of the roster. They’d always said no. Never mind that they’d never been much one for making a big deal out of arbitrary times of year. The hero in front of them was not a particularly bold creature, though, heroics aside. Nor were they the sort to want to make some kind of statement.

The hero was bafflingly genuine. Too true to themselves to be of much use in politics, and too powerful for most to want to risk taking a run at them. Powerful enough, certainly, that they didn’t need the villain’s protection or the implication of an alliance between them. Good enough, surely, that the villain struggled to envision a scenario where the hero tried to enlist them over mince pies.

Indeed, as far as the villain could tell, the hero had absolutely nothing to gain by having the villain on their arm.

The hero’s head tilted at the question. “Because I think it would be nice?”

“I’m not nice.”

“Well, no. But it would be nice to spend more time with you. But only—”

“—Only if I want to,” the villain finished.

The hero’s blush deepened. It was possibly one of the most adorable things that the villain had ever seen. Still, the hero stood their ground and waited for an answer, arms folded grumpily against their own overly expressive face.

“Yeah,” the villain said, smothering a smile. “Okay. Sounds…nice.” They kept their voice light. Casual. Their heart hammered in their chest, giving an almost painful squeeze at the bright grin that shamelessly crossed the hero’s face.

“Yeah?” The hero raised their eyebrows. “Nice.”

The villain snorted.

The hero’s grin grew, delighted. “I’ll pick you up at seven? Unless you’d rather meet there?”

“Seven is fine, but I’ll come get you. What address works?”

They made the arrangements, the hero practically fizzing, like they really were looking forward to a night with the villain at their side. No strings attached. It was…well. It was really was so damn nice. There was a rare, warm feeling buzzing in the villain’s chest.

Still.

“You do know you’re going to get hell for turning up with me, don’t you?” the villain asked. “Whatever your reasons.”

“Mm.” The hero made a show of thinking. “I fought a literal mutated snowman last week, but you know what really scares me? Other people’s dumb opinions at the Christmas party.”

The villain found themselves laughing.

“Honestly,” the hero said. “I don’t know how we’ll survive.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You could get hell for turning up with me. Whatever your reasons.”

“It’s cute that you think anyone other than you dares to give me hell about anything.”

“I could be a terrible, hellish date.”

“Oh yeah?” The villain took a step forward, before they could stop themselves. A belated lightbulb flicked on inside their head. “Is that what you are then? My date?”

“I mean—" The hero’s eyes widened. They floundered. They bit their lip, drawing the villain’s attention immediately, and parties were lame but that mouth was absolutely not. “Only if you want me to be!” the hero said. “We can just go as friends. Long suffering colleagues. I’m not trying to—”

“Oh, no. You’re my date, darling. No taking that back.”

“Oh, thank god.”

That time, the villain utterly failed at smothering a smile.

“Oh, crap. I mean—” The hero scrambled for a more eloquent, less relieved, cooler response. They came up endearingly blank.

“Nice?” the villain offered.

The hero narrowed their eyes, playful. “You’re mocking me. Rude.”

“I would never dream of mocking my date.”

“No?”

“It wouldn’t be very festive of me.”

“Oh, yes. Because you’re such a big fan of festivity and seasonal celebrations.”

The villain blinked, mostly out of surprise that the hero had been paying enough attention to even notice that. Maybe they shouldn’t have been surprised all things considered. The hero was smarter than they let on. “And yet,” they said, “you invited me to a seasonal celebration.”

“Well.” The hero shrugged, mostly managing careless that time. “Limited opportunities to take you out anywhere else. I think people might panic if I just turned up with you for a dinner.”

“We’d be served very quickly. I do tend to clear our restaurants with my presence.”

The hero snorted.

“So what does one do at a peace ball?” the villain asked, voice a murmur.

“There’s food. Drink.” The hero recovered themselves, reaching out and taking the villain’s hand, drawing them a few steps closer, leaving footprints in the snow beginning to coat the roof. Their voice softened too. Liquid caramel. “Dancing.”

“Dancing?”

“You done much of that before?”

“You might have to teach me.”

“Well, we start by you wrapping your arms around me like this…”

The villain might have shivered. The hero might have grinned, humming a made-up tune beneath their breath as they swayed together.

The weeks until the ball flew by.

***

People did stare when the two of them walked in. The villain chose to believe it was because the hero looked absolutely gorgeous, despite their dubious choice of wearing a festive jumper to what was clearly supposed to be a black tie event. The jumper was red and said ‘yule can do it friend’.

Maybe the hero was bold, in their way. The villain definitely thought, in the last few weeks, that they’d underestimated their sometimes-enemy.

There were a lot of people crowded into the city hall venue. Pretty much everyone. The villain abruptly missed their usual peaceful night of strolling around the city, relishing the way that the streets emptied as everyone bundled away to wherever their festivities were.

No panic. No screaming or nervous looks. No chance of some would-be-hero showing up demanding what the hell they were doing.

The hero set a steadying hand on the small of their back, studying their face, and their easy read of the villain’s emotions should have been alarming. It was alarming. It was also…

“You good? Do you want to go and grab a drink?” the hero asked. “What can I get you?”

“I don’t drink in public.”

“They have hot apple juice and hot cocoa too. Some fancy mocktails.”

“You don’t mind that I’m not joining you on the champagne?”

“Why would I?”

Some people, the villain thought privately, minded. They had specific ideas on what a party was supposed to be like and felt judged should the villain deviate from that pre-determined idea. The hero led them through the party, expertly weaving people.

“So?” the hero waggled their eyebrows. “What will it be?”

The villain retreated from the stand with an alcohol-free glass of sparkling. Easy to blend in, even if the taste was nothing special. The two of them watched the room for a while, trying out the various different canapes in the buffet, chatting.

It felt better with the hero at their side. They so obviously knew what they were doing at a party, smoothly carrying conversation with anyone who came over, but not in a way that made it seem like they were schmoozing. It didn’t make the villain’s skin crawl. The hero mainly got excited about and asked for pictures of everyone’s pets. Whenever anyone tried to comment on the fact that the two of them were there together, the hero said cheerily that it was “nice, wasn’t it?”

They’d catch each other’s eyes as whoever it was left. An inside joke. It had been a long time since the villain had been in on an inside joke. With the hero, it was a little thrilling.

Of course, as the evening wore on, there was dancing.

The movements were familiar, after all of the hero’s ‘lessons’ in the lead up to the ball. It made it easy to ignore the rest of the room, and the gaudy tree, and the awkward feeling that they might destroy their reputation for the sake of a party. The hero didn’t care about their reputation, did they? They just did what they wanted to.

“So,” the villain said. “What else does one do on a date?”

The hero’s eyes lit up, better than any fairy-light or candle. They stroked their fingers along the nape of the villain’s neck. The music took the opportunity to change to something slow and intimate, inviting everyone to press a little closer. It should have annoyed the villain, but with the hero in their arms, grinning at them, it couldn’t possibly.

“Well,” the hero made a show of considering. “There’s hand-holding.”

“Indeed.” Their fingers wrapped around each other as they moved.

“And kissing.”

“Ah, kissing,” the villain said. Their gaze dipped, inevitably, to that mouth worth going to parties for. “You might have to teach me.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve kissed before,” the hero said, amused. “But I’m always happy to provide a refresher.”

“Part of being a good, heroic citizen I imagine. Helping out the needy.”

“Needy, are you?”

The villain opened their mouth. They registered what they said.

“You’re blushing,” the hero said.

“It’s rude to point it out and mock your date.”

“I would never dream of mocking my date,” the hero said. Then, finally, the hero leaned in to kiss them. Sweet, honeyed, and the warm thing in the villain's chest glowed. They dragged the hero closer, wanting more, more, more. The hero laughed with breathless pleasure and nipped at their lips.

The next year, the villain vowed right then, they were taking their hero somewhere private.

[thepenultimateword]

Secret Santa Snippets 2024 List

Thank you everyone who participated in this year's Secret Santa snippet event! I will be collecting all the secret Santa stories in this post so that people can easily find and read them. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Wooden Coffin by @snowshowerwriting for @serickswrites

Secret Santa 2024 by @yourheartonfire for @wren-l-winter

Secret Santa by @gingerly-writing for @creweemmaeec11

Just a Sense by @creweemmaeec11 for @chaoticgoodthief

Static's Girl by @watercolorfreckles for @esperosisdoeswriting

Secret Santa Snippet by @the-modern-typewriter for @snowshowerwriting

Everything's Going to be Ok (I Hope) by @esperosisdoeswriting for @404lunar1216

Secret Santa Snippet by @silly-lil-khaos-god for @sunflower1000

False Feathers and Lightning Strikes by @chaoticgoodthief for @watercolorfreckles

Secret Santa 2024! by @404lunar1216 for @thepenultimateword

Their First Villain by @kaiwewi for @the-modern-typewriter

The Un-Gingerbread by @thepenultimateword for @gingerly-writing

Secret Santa Snippet 2024 by @pigeonwhumps for @kaiwewi

Citizen Detective by @serickswrites for @yourheartonfire

Secret Santa by @wren-l-winter for @silly-lil-khaos-god

Secret Santa by @sunflower1000 for @pigeonwhumps

[watercolorfreckles]

Static's Girl

This is a Secret Santa Snippet for @esperosisdoeswriting!! Merry Christmas, Esper, I hope you like it!!! Her prompt was villain dad who' loves his small child and is not afraid to kill ppl over it!

TW: Blood, violence, mention of needles

“Our target is a child?” The horror in Blythe’s voice seemed loud, even past the pound of blood pulsing in her ears. 

Fellow members of the hero’s team poured into the back of the van, one strong-arming a terrified little girl. Her wrists were bound, mouth covered and tears streaking her cheeks. The child kicked and thrashed with pink-booted feet, legs dangling helplessly above the floor of the car where the hero’s sidekick kept her firmly hoisted in the air.

She looked barely older than 7.

Blythe’s protest was suitably ignored as the team shouted instructions at one another. The back doors slammed shut and the van lurched into action. Passengers plunged themselves into their seats.

“Are you crazy?” Blythe hissed. She stood only to stagger into the side window as the vehicle made a sharp turn. “This is crazy! Why are we kidnapping a child?!”

“Bosses orders,” another said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. 

Mockingbird said “Jump” and they said, “How high?” That was just the way of things, wasn’t it? It had never concerned Blythe before–their leader was a just one.

But now…

The child’s knees were muddied and scuffed. As if she'd fallen. As if she'd run. She squealed panicked cries against the sidekick's palm.

Blythe's stomach bottomed out and pooled again with a honey-slick dread. “Who is she?”

“Static's kid,” the driver called back. Blythe caught a shiver skating through them in the corner of her eye. 

“Static's ki- I must be missing something, are you crazy?” She rounded on Mockingbird's sidekick once more. “You said we were retrieving a powered weapon that could bring Static down!”

He blinked at her as if she were exceptionally slow. “That's what she is.”

Blythe shook her head, feeling an angry tremor seize her bones. “She's a little girl, is what she is.”

Blythe startled as the radio station crackled to life, flipping noisily through channels. The driver cursed and mashed at a button. Clicking on his coms device, he spoke aloud as his free hand yanked the wheel into another screechy turn. 

“On our way back with the package in hand, Boss.”

Mockingbird's sidekick yelped and dropped the girl, a red welt forming on their palm where it had pressed against her mouth. The child hit the floor and scrambled on her knees to an empty corner.

The driver's eyes lit the rearview mirror. “What's–” He hissed and ripped his earpiece away from his head as it fizzled with blaring static loud enough for the rest of the van to hear. “Hey- She's interfering with our coms!”

“Probably trying to reach her father,” another in the front seat agreed. She pointedly shut the radio off as it flitted through stations of chatter and music once more.

The child’s nose was bleeding. Had it been doing that before? 

“Somebody knock her out already!”

The sidekick sighed and lifted a hand. All-consuming shadows danced at his fingertips seeming to choke the air around it.

“Don't.” Blythe hurled herself in front of Static's daughter. Her eyes tingled with a familiar heat that told her they were glowing, power teeming just beneath the surface. 

They stared at each other in a terse stalemate.

The sidekick’s teeth clenched.

“Listen, rookie–”

“We do not threaten children, and we certainly do not hurt them.” Blythe was proud of how steady she managed to keep her voice–firm and leaving no room for argument.

She still wanted to cry a little. How had this become her life?

Little hands grabbed at her from behind and a warm face pressed into her back. Then, a tiny sob. Blythe softened. 

“You're okay, sweetpea, it's alright,” she crooned. Blythe turned to take the child gently in her arms, gathering her close in her lap. “Shh, it's alright. I won't let anyone hurt you. I promise.”

The sidekick's seething was palpable, gaze cleaving cleanly through her, but he finally sat back down.

An eternity later, they were back at the base. Blythe had smacked away any hands reaching to grab the child away from her, carrying the girl inside herself. The little one’s legs wound around her waist like a koala, bound hands clutching fistfuls of Blythe’s shirt fabric.

Blythe’s thoughts felt scattered as TV static. She moved on autopilot, only coming back to herself when the sterile-white lights of the laboratory hummed over them.

Mockingbird was there, black curls cascading freely over her shoulders and contrasting with the icy gray of her eyes. They were not particularly kind eyes, but Blythe had always thought the hero to be good, at least.

“Boss,” Blythe heard herself speak. She cleared her throat. “What exactly are we doing here? Why did we take this kid?”

Mockingbird gestured toward the lab table. “Put her there. We need her blood.”

Blythe’s eyes widened. “Her blood?”

“We are going to use her cells to create a power inhibitor for her father and a power replicator to dose myself with. When he comes to retrieve her, we inject him with it. He won’t act out when he knows we have his daughter. And with his own powers used against him, he’ll never escape again.”

Blythe’s voice came out croaky. “I think you’re putting an awful lot of faith in the self-control of the most powerful supervillain we’ve ever encountered. When we’ve taken his only child. And stabbed her with needles.”

Static’s daughter tightened around her. Blythe glanced down and murmured a soft apology against her ear.

“I don’t care,” Mockingbird snapped. It was clipped with a danger Blythe had never felt aimed at her before. It now felt like a knife against her soft underbelly, as silver and glinting as the superhero’s eyes. “We’re close. Too close to lose now. If you plan to stand in the way of that…”

She stepped closer and plucked the child out of Blythe’s arms with her own super-strength-enhanced, bionic ones. The child knew better than to thrash that time.

Blythe wondered now, nausea climbing her throat, whose blood she’d stolen to replicate that particular gift. The metal prosthetics weren’t just technology, now, were they? Blythe had never thought much of it before… 

“Then you’ll have to take a time out,” the superhero finished. “Somewhere quiet where you can re-evaluate. Understand?” Her voice was a fake-chipper, then. Something Barbie-coded but full of invisible teeth.

Blythe’s powers hummed low beneath her skin, a tamed beast waiting for permission to lash out. Her fists clenched. “I really don’t think this is wise.”

“No?” Mockingbird sounded bored as she set Static’s daughter down on the table, tying a strip of elastic around the child’s forearm.

The little one jumped, blue static zapping Mockingbird’s fingers where they touched.

The superhero jerked back. “You little–”

“She’s just scared,” Blythe said, stepping between them. “I’ll do it. She’ll let me do it. Please.”

Mockingbird’s metal hand clanged into a fist. She took a long-suffering breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Get it done.” She pointed at the tray of tools on the counter. “Strap her down if you have to.”

Blythe’s hands went numb as she picked up the syringe. “Mocking–”

Their attentions snapped away as the speakers throughout the building crackled and spat. A wave of clammy dizziness flooded the room. Did the superhero feel the same sick lurch in her belly as Blythe did? The two clutched opposite ends of the counter to steady themselves.

Mockingbird whirled on the little girl. “Stop it, right now!”

Wide, terrified eyes stared back at her, but no blood oozed from her nose.

Blythe swallowed, choking down a roiling wave of nausea. She felt unsteady on her feet, light-headed and woozy. “It’s not her.”

A deep voice sounded over the intercom. “I’m coming to skin alive everyone who laid a finger on Verity. Those who merely stood by–don’t worry, I’ll fill your head with radiation so quickly you won’t even be able to choke out an apology.”

Oh no. Oh, they were so dead.

Blythe grabbed the child–Verity–and took a step toward the door.

Mockingbird blocked her. “No.”

“He’s going to kill everyone if he doesn’t get her back safely!” 

Blythe tried to push her way past and Mockingbird grabbed her by the throat, cogs whirring in her bionic arm. She shoved, Blythe and Verity hurtling back into the wall.

“I said no!”

Blythe’s breath collapsed out of her lungs as her back hit the wall with a sickening crunch, drywall cracking and littering the floor around them.

Mockingbird turned to the monitor screen, making furious selections on the keyboard. Security footage of the whole base blipped to life.

They watched as Static strode into a room with the terrifying grace of an apex predator, tearing down anyone in his way. Radiation flooded his fists in a green glow as he punched through the receptionist’s chest, shifting to easily grab the next closest person and brace his hands on either side of their skull. The poor soul thrashed as blood leaked from their eyes, nose, and ears. When they were no longer moving, Static let them crumple to the floor.

The next group ran and Static bowled them down with infinitely multiplied radiowaves, hurling them from open palms as if it were nothing. The speakers filled with screams, the feedback whine behind the sound forcing Blythe to cover her ears.

Her blood iced over as in the top right frame, the supervillain looked up at the camera. His head tilted, making chilling eye contact with the lens until the screen cracked and went blank with buzzing stripes of radio static. 

Verity was the only one in the compound who didn’t look afraid. She looked relieved.

Mockingbird moved for the door just as it burst open. She swung at Static with her bionic fists, missing and punching straight through the steel door instead.

Static stood on a platform of squiggling waves that lifted him off of the ground. He looked god-like. Untouchable. The impulse to run coursed through Blythe, but she stayed rooted to her spot, clutching the child to her chest. Static’s hands glowed green again as he lifted Blythe’s boss into the air. Those same up-and-down scribbles seized her, wrapping her prosthetic limbs and ripping them from her shoulders.

Mockingbird screamed.

“What did you do to my daughter?”

“Daddy!” 

The villain’s attention shifted immediately. Verity wiggled free of Blythe’s arms, running to her father.

Static dropped his target as if she were a ragdoll, scooping up his daughter instead. “Verity,” he breathed. His eyes fell closed, stroking her hair, whispering tender praises and apologies into her shoulder. 

The child clung to him. “Daddy.”

He pulled back to search her for injuries. “Are you hurt, darling? Tell me what they did to you.”

Though his voice was gentle for her, there was still a sharp undercurrent to it, as penetrating as the radiowaves that still leaked through the air. His eyes narrowed on her bloodied knees and the stained skin between her lip and nostril. 

“I’m okay, Daddy,” Verity said, looking back at Blythe.

Her vision swam as the supervillain’s focus shifted, once more, to skewer her to her spot. A calm sort of rage stretched his posture taut as he stepped closer.

Blythe, embarrassingly, may have whimpered. Her hair stood on end, floating above her head.

Verity squirmed out of her father’s hold, jumping between them. Just as Blythe had done for her. 

She held her breath.

“No, Daddy! She protected me.” Verity’s eyes took on a determined sort of gleam; valorant and unwavering. 

The air around them fizzled quietly as another wave of illness rolled over Blythe. 

Radiation poisoning. She wasn’t going to last much longer like this.

Static’s head tilted, looking from his daughter to the broken super behind her.

“She kept me safe,” Verity insisted, turning her head to look back at Blythe. Blythe couldn’t seem to speak. “She’s hurt. Can we take her home?”

“Verity.”

“Please?” Verity moved to Blythe’s side, taking her hand.

Despite her swimming vision, Blythe couldn’t help but smile softly at her. A powerful weapon indeed. Blythe believed she could move mountains.

Seconds passed and Blythe thought she may have passed out. Her vision stretched fuzzy and dim at the edges. Then she was being lifted from the floor, broken bones screaming their protest.

Blythe whimpered again, unable to help burying her face in the supervillain’s shirt.

His voice buzzed in her ear where it pressed against his chest.

“Stay close to me, Ver. Take my hand. We’re going home.”

[snowshowerwriting]

Wooden Coffin || Secret Santa Snippet

I hope this is to your liking, @serickswrites! Not much winter spirit but there's quite a bit of whump in it :) Enjoy your day!

Content Warning: Buried alive, past abuse/imprisonment, slow asphyxiation (?)

The first breath was fine, but they could feel the still, musty air.

The second breath was panicked, accompanied by the full darkness that settled around them. Their eyes were open but only darkness greeted them. There'd be no comfort here.

"The air will last for 50 minutes," Their friend told them before the mission. "We'll get you within twenty, thirty minutes at most. So don't panic, ok? Everyone will make it back alive and well. That includes you." The gentle voice of their friend lulled them into comfort, into accepting the role of bait for this mission. "For the better," they were told, a hand on their face and one on their beating heart.

Everything felt too loud in this silence. Each breath, every brush against the wooden coffin felt like grating chalk against a board. Every thought wormed itself into their brain.

First, it was whether or not their rescue would get here in time. Of course, they would. My friends wouldn't lie to me, they reassured themself. This healing they've done, all this recovering wouldn't be for naught. I'm fine, they'll get here. A mantra began in their mind whilst they recalled their memories with their current friends. They'll be found.

The sweet thoughts lasted for a few minutes before their memories turned sour as they reached further back into their mind. The first time at this camp wasn't pretty. They were dragged to the middle as prisoners with a few others. The little company they had dwindled down till they were the only plaything here. They've seen everything, the poison in every word and the cruelty in every action. That's particularly why this plan worked so well. The captors would've been distracted between all the flaunting and malicious jests at their own expense. They knew the habits and rituals, how traitors were made fools and buried alive. Traditions stayed traditions here. Their head spun at the thoughts and memories. They weren't just laying the coffin, it felt as though they were suspended in the air. Frozen in time for just a moment before reality came crashing down.

Gods, how long would it take their friends to get here? It had been ten, maybe thirteen minutes since they had woken up. They held back a hoarse sob, feeling at the wooden coffin around them. Every sound felt muted, but so damn loud.

Please, please, please. They didn't know who they were begging to. Maybe it was the figures that began to emerge in the darkness. The eyes from the deepest pits of hell stared down at them, and the smiles carved into the creatures had a sickening familiarity. They reminded themselves that it wasn't their captors, but every ounce of logical thinking was beginning to ebb away.

Their rescue wouldn't make it on time. Between all the panicked thoughts, the sudden realization had them shuffling around in the coffin. They had to get out, right now. The stale air felt rancid now. Closing their eyes made no difference, not when there wasn't even an inkling of light. Please, please, please. Fingernails scratched at the wooden boards around them, but the pain never quite registered. The shadowed creature danced in their vision, even after shutting their eyes tight. The air felt tight, rancid, and heavy. They could feel their eyes getting heavy and choked back a sob.

Between their panicked thoughts and the sound of their blood rushing in their ears, they swore they heard something on the other side of the coffin. Please, please, please. Was that their friend? Please, please, please.

[pigeonwhumps]

Secret Santa Snippet 2024

Secret Santa snippet for @kaiwewi! I hope you like it!

Prompt: A hero and a villain team up to confront a civilian who's writing an insane amount of fanfiction about them

918 words

"Well, hello there."

Civilian jumps at the voice in their ear. The seductive, sultry, melodical tone that fills the videos in the corner of their laptop screen.

They spin around.

Villain's lounging against the doorway, a smirk on his face.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Civilian swallows nervously. "No. No, nothing at all." As Villain shifts slightly, they slam a hand down on their laptop, abruptly remembering its contents. "Can I– can I help you with something?"

"Maybe. You're Civilian, correct?"

Civilian gulps, nods. Villain knows them by name. Why?

There's a low chuckle from someone behind him. Civilian flinches, then feels themself heat up at the absurdity of the reaction. It's just a laugh.

"Stop scaring the civilian, Villain." Hero sounds amused as they push their way past Villain, coming to stand by Civilian's window. Civilian doesn't miss how this covers both of their exits.

Them working together is near-unheard-of in public, but Civilian makes a mental note to include it in something later.

Hero smiles disarmingly.

"Hello, Civilian. How are you doing?"

Civilian swallows.

"Um. Hi. I'm fine."

"Good, good. You're panicking. Don't. We just want a quick word."

"Um. Okay. What about?" They want to deny their feelings but Hero will know. Empathic powers. It's the source of their emotions, all the confessions...

Hero's blinding smile drops into something much more serious, and Civilian's stomach plummets with it. Oh shit. Oh shit. What have they done?

"Your writing habits."

"More specifically, where they regard us." The 'us' is punctuated by a flash of white teeth.

Civilian tries to inch out of their seat, though they know there's no hope against Villain. Maybe they can get closer to Hero...

Villain places a hand down on the table beside them, blocking their exit, and just stares. Somehow, that's the most menacing thing he could do.

"It's just a hobby!" they burst out, babbling. "I just– I just like to write, I don't mean anything by it!"

Villain rolls his eyes and opens up the laptop, scrolling through the open tabs.

"Videos. More videos. Ooh look, a forum. And your *word document*. I wonder what you're writing now."

He bends over to look closer, humming. Civilian wants to sink into the floor. Better still, into the centre of the Earth and scrub this night from their memories entirely.

Hero crosses their arms.

"Villain. *Behave.*"

Villain sighs, but draws back, looking mutinous. In a dim corner of their mind, Civilian wonders what the arrangement was. Neither seems happy with it.

"I– I can stop. If you really want me to."

Villain opens their mouth, receives a glare from Hero, shuts it with a snap. Despite what they said, Civilian starts to make mental notes of all of this, all the minute body language and conversation between them, because this– this could really up the realism. Make everything in their writing so much more real. And it fits so well! They're so accurate!

"It's your private life," begins Hero, "and what you do with it is your own affair. Really, this shouldn't be any of our business, except people just have to keep showing us." A fact Civilian knew, and has never been sure what to think about, but one look at both faces and it's– it's definitely bad. "And wow. You write so much. So–"

"What do you see in us?"

Civilian stares. So does Hero, looking thrown. Civilian is suddenly, 100% certain that this wasn't part of the plan.

"Villain..."

Villain ignores them. "You're by far the most prolific writer. So why do you do it? What do you see? Besides the whole 'enemies-to-lovers' thing, which is ridiculous if that's your only reason, by the way, there's way better tropes out there."

Civilian swallows, throat dry. What do they say? The truth? A lie about it being a joke? Hero would probably see through that. What if their reasons aren't good enough, will Villain kill them? No, no, Hero wouldn't allow that. Would they?

"Stop looking like I'm the last thing you'll ever see and tell me."

Hero rolls their eyes. "I won't let him kill you. Melodramatic much."

Right. Right. No deaths. Not that Hero's words are very reassuring.

"You um. You're always fighting each other. And I mean, you're nemeses but Villain doesn't fight anyone else. You once waited three hours for Hero to turn up, just repelling everyone else with a forcefield, because you wanted a 'proper fight'. You send each other Valentine's Day gifts, and okay they're not what one might call traditional courting gifts, but still. Villain, whenever you're injured Hero avoids hitting that spot, even though it'd be an easy win, and Hero, you always go slow when Villain's ill. There's footage. And when was the last time you monologued for anyone but Hero, Villain? Your displays for everyone else are lackluster in comparison. You clearly enjoy each other's company at the very least. And I know that could all be platonic but just... it's fun to imagine... and..." Civilian trails off uncertainly as the tips of Hero's ears, the only thing visible under their mask, turn bright pink and they rush out of the room.

"Do not move one inch," growls Villain, not even ensuring Civilian will obey before running after Hero.

New writing ideas chase themselves around Civilian's mind, but only as an undercurrent now. Is this real. Is this really, actually, real?

They pinch themself. Ow.

And another thing.

How long is it going to be until Villain gets back?

[tunaababee]

our fingers touch (i feel my way back home)

for @rosanna-writer in the @acotargiftexchange 2024!

read on AO3 // overall rating: e // wc this chapter: 7.2k

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Feyre Archeron has never much believed in soulmates, despite the mark along her back that's been there since birth indicating that there's someone out there for her. To keep the family afloat, her father has promised her to be wed to a powerful business associate of his, who definitely likes her... But not the mark running down her back.

Rhysand Sterling has kept the fact that he has a soulmate hidden - when you become the head of a crime family, you can't afford to have such obvious weaknesses. But there's a magnetic draw to the woman his rival is engaged to... And he's looking for some leverage on him.

As their worlds collide, it seems like it may have been meant to be.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

SURPRISE!!! i'm your Secret Santa!! it's been an absolute blast being able to get to know you more, and to pick your brain to try and cobble together the perfect gift for you <3

i know i probably gave myself away because i can't hide myself well to save my life, but i really truly hope you love this. as soon as i got my assignment i was SO nervous on how i was going to live up to THE ariel jeremy jordan and her wonderful writing!!!! i have so much planned for this au because it got so much bigger than i anticipated in my head. can't wait to have you along for the ride!!

another huge thank you to @whatishowedyouinthedark, @berd-nerd and @popjunkie42 for beta reading as well!!

a snippet of the chapter is below, but you can keep reading the rest on AO3! no update schedule, but hopefully i will have more soon!!

i hope you enjoy! 💖

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Elbow perched on the bar countertop, head in her hand while wallowing in a hearty dose of depression and self-pity, she didn't even notice the stranger who had sidled up to the bar and took the seat next to her without a word. She didn't notice the way his gaze slowly trailed over her, absorbing every detail of her with a smug smirk on his face, or the way he turned his body around to face her as she grumbled quietly to herself.

"Aren't you the picture of merriment and joy?" he drawled, amusement trickling into the edges of his voice. Feyre's eyebrows knitted together in annoyance - who the fuck did this guy think he was? She whipped around on the barstool to face him, only to be surprised by who faced her. A stranger, sure, but not one like any of the others here. If she had been introduced to him, she would have remembered.

The man who sat before her was younger, for one - had a spark in his eyes, a life to him she didn't see in typical political and business suits. Most of the time they were decrepit, grey-haired near-retirees that gave off sleaze in waves. But this man was put-together, suave even. Thick, raven-black hair that was perfectly coiffed, save for a stray curl that fell over his forehead that helped him exude an almost boyish charm. Enthralling, deep blue eyes, plush lips and deeply tanned skin for miles. His suit was well tailored and crisply pressed, emphasising his athletic build. His broad hands, one holding his glass and the other on his meaty thigh, were littered with silver bands, simple and unadorned save for the eye-catching signet ring on his right hand.

He perplexed her. He fascinated her. He was downright beautiful, even.

Feyre couldn't be certain she wasn't drooling. At least she'd look as dull as this party felt if she was.

“Excuse me?”

[tgmsunmontue]

SunMonTue's 2024 Top Gun Advent Fics and art

HERE on AO3 or links below to the Tumblr posts.

This was a challenge I set myself to write AND draw something EVERY DAY from a prompt list. Most of them are drabbles or snippets and one-shots.

All fairly benign, explicit fic indicated, art which gets suggestive.

Hot cocoa - Hangster - Tumblr

Christmas at Sea - Hangster - Tumblr

Surprise visitor - General - Tumblr

Air Show - Hangster - Tumblr

Hallmark movie - Hangster - Tumblr

Hometown - Hangster - Tumblr

Hard Deck - Hangster - Tumblr

Top Secret - Hangster - Tumblr

Mistletoe - Hangster - Tumblr

Away from Home - Hangster - Tumblr

Decorations - Hangster - Tumblr

Secret Santa - Hangster - Tumblr - Explicit longer fic

Team Bonding - Hangster - Tumblr

Confessions - Hangster - Tumblr

Christmas music - Hangster - Tumblr

Unexpected gift - Hangster - Tumblr

Sugar & Spice - Hangster - Tumblr

Chapstick - Hangster - Tumblr

Eggnog - Hangster - Tumblr

Snowball fight - Hangster - Tumblr

Icicles - General - Tumblr

Holiday Party - General - Tumblr

Stockings - Hangster - Tumblr - Mature Art

Getting ready - Hangster - Tumblr - Mature Art

Reunion - Hangster - Tumblr

Serenade - Hangster - Tumblr - Mature Art

Dancing - Hangster - Tumblr

Starlight - Hangster - Tumblr

Christmas at TopGun - Hangster - Tumblr 1/3

Rings - Hangster - Tumblr 2/3

New Year's Eve - Hangster - Tumblr 3/3

Too many links for me to add to my Master List so will be linking to this post instead. 👌

[chatnia-starlight]

The Comfort Hoodie

This is a gift to @sweetgaleria, for the ML Secret Santa Exchange 2024. I'm sorry I'm so late to posting, but hopefully it is worth it! Happy Holidays! Hope you enjoy! Here's a snippet of it but you can go read the rest on ao3.

Marinette was in deep concentration working on a dress when she received a text from Chat Noir on the app of her phone she had linked to her yoyo. 

"Do you have my sad hoody? I need my sad hoody." 

As she read that message, she worried.

“Yes I do, is everything okay?”

Marinette saw the dots appear on her screen, stop and then reappear. She waited patiently, hoping Chat would open up and say whatever was going on. After a few moments, a text finally arrived.

“Can you meet me on our usual spot in a few minutes?” 

“Of course Chaton.” 

Marinette wasted no time, grabbed the hoodie, transformed and headed out of her skylight. 

Read on AO3

[untildawn-secretsanta]

2024 Posting Guidelines

You have all day of December 23rd, 2024 to post your gifts (12:01AM MT until 11:59PM MT)!

If you need an extension, I will grant them without question, just let me know as soon as you suspect you may need one.

If you don't receive your gift by the end of the day, you can reach out to me the next day. I will do my best to contact people in advance if the person making their gift requests an extension.

General (applies to all):

Create a post on tumblr.

State the name of the individual your gift is for and be sure to TAG THEM.

Include whether you chose to work with the individual’s OTP, BROTP, or Favourite Character.

Use the specific guidelines for your gift (see below).

At the bottom of your post, be sure to TAG @untildawn-secretsanta. If you are unable to tag me (because tumblr does that sometimes), make sure you DM the post to me as I need to be able to find it.

Use the following hashtags: “#until dawn” “#until dawn secret santa 2024” “#udss2024” as well as the relevant ship and character tags (ex. “#Chrashley” “#Matthew Taylor” “#Climbing Class” “#Jossam”). If you are unsure about a character’s full name, or a ship name, let me know. You are welcome to add any other hashtags that you like, but those ones MUST be included.

PLEASE double check to ensure that your gift meets the requirements and follows the creation rules (I will include them below the cut on this post as a refresher).

Fanfiction:

If your gift is primarily written material, follow these steps while posting:

Complete the general guidelines.

Upload your gift to the fanfiction website of your choosing. If you are unable to upload to a fanfiction website, you may also use Google Docs which will allow you to use a shareable link, or you can post directly to tumblr. (If you use Google Docs, please make sure that your settings won’t allow someone else to come in and edit your work.)

DO NOT POST THE FULL WRITTEN PIECE ONTO TUMBLR WITHOUT A "READ MORE" CUT. I will not reblog long posts as they can be overwhelming! If you absolutely cannot upload anywhere else, you MUST use tumblr’s “Read More”.

Create a quick (three to five sentences) teaser or choose a snippet of the story to post to tumblr.

Below the teaser/snippet, be sure to include a link to the full story. It would be after this point that you would add the “Read More…” with the rest of the story, ONLY if you cannot upload elsewhere.

(Optional) If you have a cover, include that image on tumblr.

Images (Including Fanart and Gifs):

If your gift is an image OR a series of images (fanart/gifs for this exchange), follow these steps while posting:

Complete the general guidelines.

Upload your image(s) to tumblr.

In the caption, provide a quick explanation of the image (ex. “Since you listed your OTP as Chris and Ashley, I drew them drinking hot chocolate by the fireplace.”)

If you are planing posting from a blog URL that is different than the one you are participating under (using an art sideblog, for example), please let me know.

These guidelines are created to be a base for your post. You are welcome to add anything in addition to what was stated above, and you are always welcome to contact me should you require clarification on anything. Have fun creating!

Creation rules for a refresher below the cut:

CREATION RULES

Gifts are not to be posted (in part or in full) ANYWHERE until the exchange date (December 23rd).

CONTENT WARNINGS:

If you are creating anything with gore/body horror, please anonymously double check with your gift recipient to make sure they're okay with that!

Anything NSFW shouldn't be taken further than what the game does. We all know Jess' iconic monologue outside of the guest cabin, and I'd say that's about as far as it should go dialogue-wise. In terms of fanart, you can ask with me if you're unsure. This has never really been an issue in previous years, so I'm not too worried about it. I don't want to censor things super harshly, so if you have any concerns/questions, just ask!

CREATION MINIMUMS:

Word count minimum is 2000 WORDS

Art is a little tricky to create a minimum for, but try to put at least 3 hours into your piece. You want to present a finished drawing to your recipient! No sketches/super rough drawings, please.

OTHER:

Something I would like to touch on is the use of the W word. I think that if we are going to be celebrating Until Dawn, the least we could do is show respect by retiring the use of that word in our fanfic and fanart (many of you already mentioned this in your notes). Instead, I would like to recommend terms like monster/creature instead.

Also, please be careful to not whitewash Josh! Some photo references from the game can make him look pretty pale, so I recommend taking a look at photos of Rami Malek as well!

MODERATION STUFF: I'm currently heading home to see family and friends I haven't seen in months, so I'll be keeping busy and enjoying time with them over the next few weeks. Please be patient, and understand that I won't always be available. 🙏 If you don't hear back from me for over 24 hours, please send a gentle follow up! I have a lot of DMs on the go with all of you right now, so there is a chance that things may get lost. As always, any general questions about the exchange should be posted in ⁠#help in the Discord server.

‼️IF YOU ONLY READ ONE THING, LET IT BE THIS: IF YOU ARE NOT ABLE TO FINISH YOUR GIFT, LET ME KNOW ASAP!!! DON'T HIDE BECAUSE THEN I CAN'T CONTACT A BACK-UP AND YOUR GIFTEE MAY NOT GET A GIFT‼️

[skibasyndrome]

Finally making a pinned post, hope I do this right

my name is Simon, you can call me that or skibasyndrome

26-y/o university student with a passion for literature and languages

me and tumblr go way back (like... 2012 way back), but it's only through my discovery of Young Royals in August 2023 that I decided to get back into online fan spaces after a long break

I'm gay and a trans man

I mostly just write fics and ficlets (or talk about writing) hmu to talk about fics and you'll make me smile <3

Feel free to reach out and talk to me about anything and everything, I love talking to people :) and if i take a little while to reply please be patient with me, that shit is hard sometimes, but I promise I love talking to people

things to note about this blog

guilty of simping about Omar 24/7

I yap a lot in the tags

Young Royals, baby! there's rarely anything else on here these days

we love and worship our beloved girl she/her 🎀Wille🎀 in this house

personal posts are tagged "simon.out."

should go without saying but fuck right off with any -isms or -phobias

See my Young Royals fics below the cut (or at skibasyndrome on ao3)

It seems a place for us to dream (T, 1.8 k)

Or: The things going through Wilhelm's head during that S3 snippet.

You crave the Applause / Yet hate the Attention (E, chaptered, 4/4, 22.3 k)

Or: How Wilhelm realizes that maybe, if you squint a little, he might have a praise kink.

But I'm a vampire smile, you'll meet a sticky end (E, 4.1 k)

Or: Simon's vampire-esque makeup is really doing things to Wilhelm that he didn't expect. A Halloween fic.

In This Together (T, 3.5 k)

Or: Wilhelm tries — and fails — to surprise Simon with hot chocolate. Simon doesn't mind. Contribution to Wilmon Secret Santa 2023.

It's in the water, baby (E, 4.9 k)

Or: A sweet and spicy story sponsored by the infamous Lake Still (TM) s3 promo pic.

Never Letting You Go (E, 5.7 k)

Or: The infamous Hallway Smut (TM) Scene as briefly seen in the S3 trailer and (re)imagined by me. There's light angst, sex, and so many feelings.

Lavender Haze (E, 13.3 k)

Or: Wilhelm spots the most gorgeous man in a nightclub. He's wearing a lavender shirt that makes Wilhelm's head spin and imagination run wild. And a smile that does things to his heart he's not quite sure what to make of yet.

All this shit is new to me (E, chaptered, 3/?, 24 k)

Or: After meeting and hooking up with Simon at a club, Wille needs to figure out what exactly that means for them (or whether there even is a "them" to figure out). A sequel to Lavender Haze.

Wille's Month 2024:

Day 1 (Sandwich): Vegan butter, two slices of Gouda, a few slices of cucumber (G, 1.6 k) Day 8 (Wedding/Engagement): Roots of Love (T, 1.2 k) Day 9 (Riding): Close, Closer (E, 1.3 k) Day 25 (Hands): Got my Hands all over You (E, 7.1 k)

Simon's Month 2024:

Day 2 (Food): I could eat that boy for lunch (M, 7.9 k) (co-written with @iwouldnevergetintofanfic & @pagegirlintraining) Day 14 (Senses): Kyss mig med dinä röda läppar (or, affectionately: the cherry fic) (T, 3.4 k)

Flash The Camera, You're A Star! (T, 10.1 k) (co-written with @pagegirlintraining)

Or: the one where Wille is an even bigger simp than usual and Simon can’t quite stay mad at him.

(ca.)-5-sentence-ficlets

Or: people send me a sentence, I write 5 or more sentences to turn it into a ficlet. wild variety of stories ranging from dark to fluffy to (slightly) steamy (always open for these types of prompts, "series" ongoing)

Ragged Ends Of Your Summer Dress (M, 2.1 k) (3/?) (🎀)

Or: snippets from a universe in which Wille is transfem (and, duh, Simon loves her dearly)

YR Kinktober 2024 (Masterpost here)

(ongoing series) Day 1: Sit back and watch (I'm gonna dance for you) (masturbation & spit) Day 2: Sharpen your teeth, sink into me (marks & biting) Day 3: In silence, I'm yours (sound/staying quiet, hands & 69) Day 4: Love the shape of your mouth (and the back of your head) (makeup, praise kink, oral sex, deepthroating and light dacryphilia) (🎀) Day 5: I've never met arms like yours (cockwarming & spooning) Day 6: And the mirrors gon' fog tonight (mirror, hands, a little bit of praise) Day 7: One, two, three (Not only you and me) (threesome, first time [having a threesome], lapdance) Day 8: Body language say you wanna (semi-public sex, cruising, roleplay) Day 9: On the tip of my tongue, on the top of your thighs (1/2) (wax play, thighs, marks) Day 10: And if I searched a thousand miles I'd be dying to find (2/2) (intercrural sex, thighs, marks, oral sex) Day 11: My skin on your skin, again and again (frottage, cum play, fingers) Day 12: In the back of your car there's a big black mark (where I ripped the seat) (car sex, riding, a little breathplay/choking) Day 13: Find a brand new way of seeing (Your eyes forever glued to mine) (1/2)

Like we're dancing (you and me) (T, 3.1 k) (🎀)

Or: Wille is nervous to meet her parents for dinner. Simon is there for her.

Birthday Boys (T, 14.1 k) (co-written with @iwouldnevergetintofanfic)

Or: best friends Simon and Wille share a birthday. On their twentieth birthday - their first birthday apart in years - some realizations happen.

Now we're falling like snow (E, 7.8 k) (see header here)

Or: The first heavy snow of the season - what a great opportunity for a slow morning and keeping each other warm

Like a break in the ice (T, 2.5 k)

Or: Wille takes Simon ice skating. Simon isn't very enthusiastic.

"Short but impactful" prompt ficlets

"I'm just afraid" "Hate me" "I'm just afraid" "Tell me the truth" "Lie to me" "Please, speak to me" (Pt. II to "Lie to me")

Moon go down (do it again) (T, 4.2 k)

Or: Wille and Simon spend an evening sitting in Simon's dorm room.

Real short leash (but I like it tight) (E, 14.8 k)

Or: Wille wears a collar and Simon knows just how to make him feel good.

Your voice like the sound of sirens to a house on fire (You're saving me) (rated E/M-ish, 1.8 k)

Or: Wille has opinions about Simon's voice. And Simon gets to hear all about it.

"Reckless & passionate dialogue" prompt drabbles

“This was a bad idea." "Then why are you still kissing me?"

Your love is tough, is tried and true blue (rated E/M-ish, 4.5 k)

Or: Some days after they have left Hillerska, Simon and Wille find peace, calm, and each other in a cabin by the water.

Smut prompt list ficlets (also on ao3 as Hold you, touch you, feel you, always)

"it's okay, I'm right here" "look at me" “i’ve wanted this for such a long time” “don’t hold it in, it’s okay” “we can go for as long as you want” “I like the smell of your cologne” "play with me" "keep going" "aw, poor baby, do you want me to take care of this for you?" “let me eat you out while you do that, please?” "I want to feel you inside" (also on ao3) “you’re all mine” - “hm…” - “say it” - “i’m all yours” (also on ao3)

Wilmon Day 2025

Hey there sleepy smile (I see you've brought your bedroom eyes) (rated T, 2.7 k) prompts: "Who stays up way too late and who tries to drag them to bed?" & "In which position do they usually sleep?"

...

[thepenultimateword]

The Un-Gingerbread || Secret Santa 2024

I participated in the Secret Santa writing event again this year! This snippet is for @gingerly-writing! I hope you enjoy! I know you said I could choose just one topic buuuut I ended up kinda combining them all together!

magical girl powers (especially for villains)

something cute and Christmassy turned deadly/bad (Christmas card full of blackmail, evil snow powers, etc)

super niche/useless superpower saves the day

“They’re Christmas cookies,” Hero said blandly.

“They’re suspicious.” Villain tapped the edge of the platter with the tip of their snowflake wand. Little swirls of frost spread over the surface of the plastic wrap, clouding over the little gingerbread faces.

“Some caroler or neighbor or someone trying to be spread Christmas cheer casually left a plate on your doorstep. End of story.”

Hero had never been the imaginative type. It was a little annoying actually: the power of disbelief. One of the only things that had ever rendered Villain powerless. It didn’t always work, especially now that Hero had seen Villain’s work up close so often, but when Hero got thinking too much about the laws of gravity, the improbability of a transformation sequence, the energy mechanics of magic, Villain found themselves dropping like a stone. 

In those moment they just had to hope Hero was close enough to catch them–practically a guarantee–and empathetic enough not say a word to anyone else. …Less likely.

Villain tucked the wand into a reality pocket–Hero was nice enough not mess with that one today-and swished their capelet around them as they turned toward the fridge. The next thing they knew, they were pouring a glass of milk just so they could look away. The hero’s dry gaze already felt like a drain on their powers without this extra dose of exasperation. 

“Look at the clothes,” they said.

Hero raised an eyebrow, but began to peel up the first layer of plastic wrap.

“Don’t unwrap them!” Villain cried, then as Hero’s eyebrow did a higher, more quizzical leap into their hair, “We don’t know what’s in them.”

“I don’t think this shoddy wrap job is keeping in any dangerous toxins,” Hero said.

Villain stomped a heeled shoe. “Don’t say such dangerous things out loud!”

“For that to work the cookies would have to actually be toxic. Which they aren’t.” Hero’s eyes flicked up and down before returning to the cookie plate and the unwrapping process. “Did you seriously do a complete transformation over this?”

Villain warmed a little. They didn’t make a habit of inviting heroes to their apartment, but something about this had shaken them. Something about those sugar pearl eyes peering up at them had felt…wrong. Though they’d claimed, even internally, that Hero was simply the first name to pop into their head, maybe…maybe they’d chosen them on purpose. Maybe they’d wanted a bit of logic to asway their anxiety. To tell them everything was truly alright.

“I’m just being prepared,” Villain said, then nodded at the plate.

The gingerbreadpeople were dressed like them. Not the comfortable, baggy outfits they wore as a civilian but their magical version–silver pompadour shoes with a snowflake sprinkles for the buckles, long icy blue tailcoat and capelet with a carefully iced imitation of the frost pattern emroidery, and whipped ruffles—so many ruffles, in the cravat, in the white undershirt, in the peeking cuffs of the sleeves; the Ginger-Villains even held their wand, complete with silver edible glitter so the snowflake head sparkled in the light.

“Coincidence.”

“Coinci– Hero! That’s me!”

“Yes, and half the city is convinced you’re some sort of ice fairy.” Villain could hear the eyeroll in their tone. “This isn’t the first cookie I’ve seen with your face on it.”

“But they are the first to show up at my door.”

Hero let out an enormous sigh. “Ok, honestly? Yes, it’s weird. Yes, it’s creepy. But I just don’t believe anyone could have figured out who you are let alone where you live. You’re ok. Throw them away if you’re so worried.”

Villain folded their arms poutily. “I’m sure that’s exactly what the sender wants me to do. One moment I’m dumping cookies, the next I have giant radioactive rats breaking down my door.”

They swished their cape again, more dramatically this time, making the full breadth of their displeasure known. 

Hero sighed again. They did that so much it was a wonder they had any breath left.

“Do you want me to take them?”

Villain blinked. “Really?”

“You’re just going keep calling me otherwise, right? And I have no worries about throwing them away in my trash.”

Villain picked up the platter hesitantly. “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt on my behalf…”

“I know it’s Christmas but quit with the fluff. Hand them over.”

Hero thrust out their hand, waving their fingers impatiently. 

Well, if Hero really wanted the creepy cookies, who was Villain to stop them. They were a grown, capable adult who knew how to take care of themselves, and they were enemies anyways, so Villain didn’t need to feel guilty at all if–

Villain’s thoughts stopped short, plate half extended. The platter trembled a little in their fist.

“Are you really so freaked out that you’re shaking?” Hero said.

“I-I’m not.”

Something on the platter was moving. 

As the first Ginger-Villain rose to its feet, all Villain and Hero could do was stare. 

When the second one popped up, Villain threw the platter across the room.

The decorative plastic cracked against the wall, and about two dozen cookies scattered every direction.

The wall clock ticked a second of peace, and then the cookies were back up, faces smudges, bodies cracked, or a gory scene of cookie arms and legs and sugar pearl eyes littering the tile.

One cookie who was lucky enough to escape the throw with no more damage than a lost eye and a smeared tailcoat waddled determinedly forward while several others limped or dragged themselves behind.

Villain cursed. "What is happening?"

"It's not real. it's not real. it's not real," Hero muttered like a ritual beside them. But the cookies were real. And whatever disbelief Hero had been suspending was broken.

Fine. If Hero was going to be useless... Villain reached into the air and yanked their wand out of its pocket and back into reality.

They flicked the wand once, sending a pale coating of slick ice over the living cookies, stiffening their limbs and freezing them to the spot.

"There," Villain said, letting out a slow exhale. "Now I think we should burn--"

Crack.

Crick, crack.

Crick, crack, crackle, crack.

Steam wafted up from each cookie, and as they pressed forward, little fissures spread up the weakened ice-coating.

"Are they...getting hotter?" Villain said.

The embroidery detailing and facial features dripped down the cookie's bodies as they moved pooling in little sweet puddles at their feet. A few cookies picked up the nearby limbs and melded them into the now soft stumps.

"That shouldn't be as disturbing as it is," Hero muttered.

"Ok, I was going easy on you all because you're made of flour," Villain said, "but why don't you try escaping this?"

Villain swished their wand in a circle, this time encapuslating the cookies in a large, solid ball of ice.

Crack.

Villain conjured another layer.

Crick, crack.

Another.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

Another.

The ice ball grew and grew, but for every layer of ice Villain threw up, the cracking only seemed to quicken.

Great billowing clouds of steam filled the room, obscuring the ice prison from view and Villain backed warily toward the living room, grabbing Hero's arm as they went.

There was one final crack; ice shot around the room like shattered glass and a wave of chilly water washed across the floor, seeping through the seams of their shoes.

As the cookies had heated in their prison, they'd mushed together, replacing two dozen zombieish Ginger-Villains with one enormous, thoroughly burnt Ginger-Creature. One beady sugar pearl stared down at them from the gooey burnt icing face.

"Hero, do something!" Villain shouted, digging their nails into the hero's arm.

Hero paused their muttered chant long enough to roar, "I'm trying!"

"What, a walking cookie is too realistic for you?"

"It reminds me of a horror movie! It's hard to disbelieve in things that have that sort of hold in my mind!"

The Ginger-Creature stepped toward them.

Villain waved their wand toward the pool of water on the floor, freezing it into a slick sheet. Unfortunately, they hadn't thought about their own half-submerged feet. As they attempted another step back, they found their blocky heels frozen to the floor.

The creature slipped a little with its next step, but ultimately its heating power left indents in the ice wherever its giant feet moved.

Villain lurched back, but the attempt was fruitless.

"Take off your shoes!" Hero cried, already in their socks and crouching down at Villain's feet and fumbling with the intricate snowflake buckles.

"They're magic shoes," Villain choked. "They don't come off."

"Then detransform! Do something! It's coming!"

Villain grabbed Hero by either side of their face, forcing them to look up at them.

"Hero, I need you're annoying, unimaginative, logical brain to start asking the big questions right now."

Hero stared at them wide-eyed. "I...I..."

"Come on! You always think of something aggravating! Like...how can this cookie see us when its eye is just sugar? How does the light pass through? And even if it does, how is that light processed? Does it have a cookie brain? That doesn't make any sense."

"How can it heat itself?" Hero said, voice a little trembly. "Nothing in gingerbread can conduce its own heat."

"Yeah, and why did the cookies have heat powers anyway when they were supposed to be copies of me?"

"How did it know how to shape itself? It's messed up, but it's still sort of a person. Do all the cookies have a sense of humanity? Do they have separate thoughts? Or are they one cookie hivemind?"

The smell of burnt sugar and ginger was suffocating now. Villain could feel the heat wafting off it as it's burnt foot came into view a mere couple of feet away.

Hero spread their arms out in front of Villain and looked up into the towering cookie's face. “You're not real.”

The gingerbread froze in place. It's entire body shuddered, and then abruptly it crumbled into a pile of blackened cookie dust. The sugar pearl rolled across the floor and into Villain's knee.

They both stared in silence.

Then Villain laughed.

They couldn’t help it. Emotional response maybe. They just laughed and laughed and went weak against Hero's side, grasping for balance around their waist. Hero hugged them with one arm around the head. Villain wasn't sure if they even knew they were doing it, or if the simply needed as much support after that conclusion as Villain did.

"I did it," Hero gasped.

"You did it!" Villain said giddily. "You're so boring, you fantastic stick in the mud you!"

Villain picked up the sugar pearl, rolling it between their thumb and forefinger a couple times, before popping it triumphantly in their mouth. As soon, as the sweetness hit their tongue, words sprang across their mind unprompted.

Merry Christmas, Villain. I'm sorry you didn't like my treat. My next one will be better.

[caramelcoffeeaddict]

hello everyone! long time, no update! first, I want to thank @forabeatofadrum for consistently tagging me in all of her Six Sentence Sunday and WIP Wednesday posts even though I haven't been actively writing or sharing anything recently. I really appreciate being included. but now, I figured I'd use this opportunity to share a little of what's been going on in terms of my writing.

The Power of Flowers (aka the Florist!Kurt fic), is still temporarily on hold for right now. I have not touched that story since early March. it's crazy to me that I had originally intended to have it done and published back in October 2024. unfortunately, life had other plans, and I had less time and motivation to work on the story. then the Holiday season rolled around, and I had to put more focus on the Klaine Secret Santa fic that I had signed up to write, so the florist story was given even less attention. once the Secret Santa fic was done and posted, I was feeling a little burned out, and needed to take a small step back from writing. I didn't open or work on TPOF for a few months. I managed to have one good writing day in early March where I wrote almost 900 words, but sadly, that was the last time I worked on that story.

however... after seeing the open submission form for the new PDF Klaine Fanzine last week, I looked through my AO3 page and my drafts folder on my comp to see if I had anything I could contribute. I found a document that was just a fic title and story idea/prompt that fit the theme of the new zine perfectly. I also happened to have some photo manip edits that I made to accompany this idea. so, I've been doing a little brainstorming to flesh out the story a little more. and last night I managed to write 500 words for the actual story itself. I have just under a month to make the submission deadline, but the story only needs to be between 1,500-5,000 words, so I think it's manageable. I don't want to share any snippets of this story just yet, because I was planning on making this story a Klaine Fanzine exclusive (at least for the first month or so after the zine is published). but I will say that I'm excited about it, and I hope my motivation doesn't wane so I can complete it on time. also, once this fanzine fic is done, I really want to get back to finishing up The Power of Flowers as well since there isn't a lot left to write in that story. so, hopefully I don't burn out again; that way, I have something new I can share with y'all this summer.

that's it from me. thanks for reading! :)

[gooseberryfox]

RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

thank you for the tag @lailuhhh !!

I actually reuse the same document a lot (which gets chaotic) but I make a new doc for every event I (try to) do!

ytijfkd

bruh

Cairo Day 2024

Cairo Day 2023

FMA Storge Event

FMA Secret Santa

as for who to tag.....hmm..... i may be repeating some tags here so I apologize but I am tagging ! ! Yay me!!

@impossiblepluto @nativestarwrites

@awesomedurraworld @justanotherinterneruser :D

[no-goodbyes-no-regrets]

Favourite Lone Star fandom memories

thanks for tagging me (ages ago) @nisbanisba and @carlos-in-glasses and thanks for starting this @thisbuildinghasfeelings

I've been putting this off because I'm a big fan of ignoring the problem (our show ending) until it goes away (someone at Fox or abc or any other network coming to their senses) - but sadly that hasn't happened... (YET!!!)

So to start with, just a shout out to all the lovely people I've met through this fandom. (I'm not going to tag people because I'll end up forgetting someone - but you know who you are!)

I discovered the show during/ at the end of season 1 when gifs of the first tarlos hook up appeared on my dash, and well... two hot guys slamming each other into walls? Sign me up! But then I saw gifs of Owen with Buttercup and I waited until after the season 1 finale and made people tell me if the dog lived before I started the first ep. Cute guys or not - if the dog dies, I'm out! Thankfully the best boy of the series THRIVED. (Do we think he ended up having puppies with Owen's neighbour's dog? I'm sure Jonah would like a puppy!)

But all in all - we had a good run guys! It's been fun! The (sometimes even more batshit crazy than the show) speculation, examining every little picture and bts content, the fix its, the codas, yelling at Tim Minear & co (which at this point is just a regular part of my day), the fucked up sleep schedule (on my part) and liveblogging the episodes with all of you. Good times!

And no ship wars! (as far as I know anyway) we all mostly let each other just *be*. That's RARE in fandom!

I just love the love in this fandom for the whole cast - even if most of us are tarlos shippers. The support for Ronen when he came out, the HYPE for our three queer leading men at the GLAAD awards (and all of them looking beautiful as ever), and the trans guy marrying the gay biracial couple on American network TV!!

I've loved participating in the secret Santa and secret cupid exchanges, the writing challenges, the season 5 countdown event, I even did a reverse bang (after I said I'd never do anything like that again when I did it for another fandom years ago), and the big epic collab where a bunch of us put Carlos Through It for the lovely Lire.

I love reading the snippets on WIP Wednesday and Seven Sentence Sunday but since I'm the least organised person on the planet, I rarely have something to share these days. (I don't know how you guys do it with the whole planning ahead thing and writing the full thing before posting - couldn't be me)

I just love everyone in this club and once the finale depression wears off, I hope we can keep this lovely little corner of the internet of ours alive and kicking.

We got this guys!

A little fic self promo under the cut

Secret Santa Strickland Holiday Special (2024) Perfectly unperfect (2023)

Secret cupid 2024 (2025 is coming soon!!) Love online Season 5 countdown exchange View from the taco truck

Flufftober 2023

March word of the day challenge 2023

For Lire with love and lots of whump collab

California (Reverse Bang)

[artemiseamoon]

This week

The Golden Palace

Info | A03

“A day later, the tensions from Novgord carried over into the palace, Oleg remained in a weird mood. He’d barely touched his food at dinner, and was drunk by its end, the same as the night before.

When Séraphine excused herself, she knew where Oleg would go next. Whenever he was in a grim mood, he’d get drunk, but not just anywhere, in the mausolum. It’s where he kept his dead wife, and sometimes sulked for hours alone.”

Dance with the Devil

Info | A03

Billy’s eyebrows drew together as he gave her thigh a light squeeze. “Say something.”

Danielle stared off, expression hard to read. He felt like his words went in one ear and out the other. She reached for the glass, he moved it away. Her eyes jumped to his, narrow and distrusting.

“What?”

“Guess that’s something -”

Billy cracked a smile, her tense expression remained unchanged.

“Look, I’m fucking worried about you okay.”

.

Now up…

Next chapter of The Lonesome

Snippet from last chapter

“Selene glanced at the rearview mirror, eying the cooler in the backseat. It was amazing really, one could get all kinds of shady shit with some cash, especially in LA. It took less than two hours to find a nurse willing to steal blood bags for money.”

Snippet from new chapter (A03)

“Awe filled her as Jack posed, and soon the photographer produced the photo, the same one she had that took months and many of Julian’s connections to acquire. The only known photo of Jack.”

Coming up…

Next chapter of Burning Bright

Snippet from last chapter

“Halfdan lit a fire in her in a way her soon-to-be husband couldn’t. Not even with his kiss or touch. It was bad enough she had to marry in the first place, let alone to someone she felt nothing for. Having the hots for his right-hand man was a whole other can of worms.”

PLUSSS

2024 Secret Santa fic (debuting on the 24th) 🙂

It’s a Pedro Character, and a meetcute, that’s all i can say. Yes an exception is made for challenges and i will post that in full here (of course A03 too)

🤐

[queenofbaws]

ho. ly. cow.

it's been a minute, huh??? well hi there, just a quick update from me, your friendly local scavenger animal hiding behind park trash cans: this holiday season sure can...holiday, amiright???

alas, i'm not going to be sharing any snippets in this one since i'm currently focusing on secret santa stuff and to share that would be, y'know, defeating the whole 'secret' part of things 🤫 but i'm really, really hoping to get back into some flash fiction during the final 2 weekends of december, so if you're lookin' for some sort of NYE drabble this year, now's the time to start cookin' those prompt ideas in your brain hehehe

but other than that, as i've been telling my dear, dear, extremely talented bud @unicornaffair (go read her stuff rn i promise you'll thank me), i'm hoping that 2024 will be the year where i can tie off a bunch of loose ends on my wip list. i am. desperate. to finish some of these, hahaha, so for the sake of accountability, i'm gonna throw my (ROUGH) writing plans for the year under a readmore. if you're interested for a sneak peek of what 2024 MIGHT bring, feel free to check it out!

as always, i hope you're all doing as well as you possibly can right now <3 the end of the year can be a tough time for a lot of reasons, so i'm doing my best to take my own advice and take it easy on myself. i hope you are too! <3

Projects I'm focusing on FINISHING:

-Until Dawn CREEPs: Of Mummy Men & Bathtub Soup (so close. so. so close.) -Dragon Age: The Tale(s) of the Champion (ooooh we're halfway there, ahhhhhh it's Hawke with the steel chair) -The Quarry/UD: Like Wringing Blood From a Stone (this one is. extremely fuckin ambitious, but what i've POSTED is ALMOST the halfway point of the story, and i have. a disgusting amount waiting to be posted so who fuckin knows. maybe.)

Projects I've been working on INSTEAD of my priorities and that I'm really hoping to be able to share but refuse to elaborate on because if i get too excited about them i'll forego the projects above:

-UD CREEPs: [Secret Title], a CREEPs fic from Ashley's pov - The fridge ghost returns -UD CREEPs: [Also a secret title], a CREEPs fic from Josh's pov - They JUST finished remodeling! -UD: If Found, Please Return - Sam writes Hannah a letter -UD/TQ: before the dawn, a bad moon rises - Emily Davis gets her hair sniffed -TQ: Fireside Tales - You kids really should've stayed in the lodge like Mr. H told you to -Little Hope: Storytelling 101 - Don't trust the guy running the souvenir shop in the burnt-down witch village. Please. Just don't do it.

Projects that remain up in the air under a flashing ?????? sign but definitely live in my wip folder and stare at me every time i go to write:

-Dragon Age: Well...Shit -UD: THE PIG FIC -UD: A very unexpected Valentine's Day -UD: Fuck No: The Movie: The Beginning -Dragon Age: As-of-yet-unnamed Hawke/Varric fic where they pretend to be married SPECIFICALLY to antagonize a marriage counselor -TQ: Firewatch AU -UD CREEPs: Dr. Hill and the Curator's very own fic, the fic <3