#writer holiday

[queerlilchinchin]

Writer Week

Happy writer week!

Well, okay, not yet. But I wanted to introduce my idea for it. :)

I've been looking up several different famous authors' birthday and death days and I'm noticing a pattern that a lot of them take place in September.

So!

I'm making Writer "Week" from September 13th to the 21st. Yes, I know that's a little over a week, but there are 3 famous authors birth or death anniversaries (that I know of) that take place during that week. I thought we'd turn it into a special week for writers. Kind of like how there's Presidents Day and Martin Luther King Day in America (I'm not sure of other countries' examples, sorry).

So, I wanted to start off the introduction with the mascot for Writer Week.

Introducing the Writer Week Chin:

Yes, I made my own animal the mascot for Writer Week. If you can't do that when creating a holiday, what's the point? ;)

Anyway, how do you celebrate Writer Week?

You celebrate Writer Week by taking an hour or half-hour if you're busy out of your day to go to either old writers you haven't spoken to in a while or if you're new to the writing scene, the early writers you got into and commenting on their fics or telling them what made you love their writing.

Writer Week is celebrated by celebrating your favorite writers. It can be on here. It can be leaving a review on your favorite author's books. It can be on AO3 or Wattpad. It doesn't matter where you celebrate it, just that you spread love to the writers you love.

Again, Writer Week is from September 3th to the 21st, so it's actually 9 days, not a week, but I wanted to include multiple big authors anniversaries of death or birth in the holiday, especially since so many take place in September (I think I hit like 6 in my research and I didn't even research a whole lot of the big authors).

Join me in spreading love and encouraging others to do the same to all of our favorite writers.

Writers need reassurance sometimes and it can be difficult to get it, so having a week that is specifically geared toward doing that, I think would be good. Think of it like Mothers Day, Fathers Day and Valentines Day all wrapped in one but for writers. ^^

Oh and if you have an up and coming writer that you love too, let them know you love them too! It doesn't just have to be old writers. :) boost their writing, tell them how great they are and how much potential you see in them! Spread love for them so that others may be drawn to their writing the way you have been. :]

Happy be-earlied Writers Week. <3 I hope I get to see you all celebrate in 4 months.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

I wanna dance with somebody

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22

Prompt: Sports

Rated: T

CW: some vague mentions of Eddie’s boner

Tags: No UD AU; Meet cute; Good neighbor Eddie Munson; Dancer Steve Harrington

Notes: @thefreakandthehair, @sourw0lfs, @devondespresso - SPORTS! GO, SPORTS!!!

Wanna see dancer!Steve stretch (and Eddie have a horny meltdown)? Check out the artwork done by @house-of-the-moving-image!!

It’s still half dark and freezing outside as Eddie parks the van in front of the dancing school.

“Shit, we’re running late,” Max curses and bends down to straighten her neon-colored leg warmers for the twentieth time. “Just because you couldn’t find your stupid car keys.” 

“That all you gotta say?” Eddie huffs, but all it gets him is that bewildered brow quirk she always does when he’s being dumb. “How about Sorry for waking you at ass o’clock, Eddie? Thank you for driving me, Eddie? You’re the best neighbor in the world, Eddie?” 

She scoffs at him. “Ew, are you always that desperate for validation? Pathetic.” 

Eddie gawks after her as she opens the passenger door and gets out to retrieve her duffel from the backseat. That little gremlin! He should’ve closed the door in her face, left her standing out in the snow. 

Except, it all rang a little too close to home. The way she huddled on his porch, arms wrapped around her too-thin jacket, face set in a disappointed scowl. The way she barked at him to drive her to dance class because her mom had been home late and wouldn’t wake up. He knows she’s been taking odd jobs around the trailer park to pay for the classes, knows it's the one thing during the week she looks forward to. Also knows that her mom is too out of it to care half of the time. Knows how that feels. 

There’s no way he could’ve denied her. 

The problem is, she’s perfectly aware of that. 

“You coming?” 

She’s eyeing him expectantly through the open back door of the van. Eddie waves her off, fumbles for his cigarettes in his pocket. Realizes he forgot them. Shit. 

“‘s okay, I’ll just wait out here in the car.” 

She rolls her eyes so hard her entire head sways with the motion. “Don’t be a moron, they have heating and a lounge inside. C’mon.” 

*

The inside of the dancing school is basically just one long hall with a floor-to-ceiling mirror front at one end. There’s a counter in one corner and two mismatched sofas with a pile of old magazines opposite that. Max makes a dash for the gaggle of girls doing warm-ups on the dance floor, even though there’s no instructor in sight yet. 

“Oh hey, can I help you?” 

Eddie blinks. A guy has just materialized behind the counter - though the truth probably is that he was crouched out of sight to retrieve the boombox in his hands. He puts it on the countertop, cocks his head at Eddie, which makes a few strands of floofy chestnut hair fall in front of his wireframe glasses, and oh fuck, he’s cute! 

“Adult classes don’t start until noon, but-” 

Eddie barks a laugh and saunters closer. 

“Yeah, no. I’m just here to drop off little Red.”

He jerks his head at the dance floor. Cutie follows the movement and his face breaks into a smile so full of genuine delight, Eddie wants to cuddle him. Or maybe bite him. Maybe both. 

“Oh, Max,” says Cutie. “You her brother?” 

Eddie snorts. “Nah, just a neighbor. Her mom was … indisposed.” 

“Huh,” Cutie says. Quirks an eyebrow. Somehow manages to put an entire unspoken verdict into that little noise and gesture. “She’s real talented, y’know?” 

Eddie shuffles in his place, unsure about what to do with that information. “Um, yeah?” 

Cutie nods, eyes darting over at Max, who’s dropping into a painful-looking split in front of the mirror, and shit, when did she learn that? 

“Yeah. I think she’s got potential. Plus, she’s really come out of her shell these past few weeks. So thanks for driving her.” 

“Oh, erm …” Eddie makes, pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide his incoming flush. “No problem, dude, not like I had-” 

“Steve!” Max hollers, and they flinch apart. Eddie didn’t even notice how they’ve both drifted into each other’s space, Cutie’s elbows bracketed on the counter and himself just swaying ever-so-slightly closer. “You done flirting, or what? We should’ve started three minutes ago!” 

Cutie - who’s name is Steve, apparently - takes off his glasses and winks at Eddie. Fucking winks at him. It goes ridiculously well with the pretty pink blush that’s blooming high in his cheekbones. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, raising his arms over his head and bending at the hip, does a silly little stretch. “Duty calls.” 

Then, he smoothes his hair out of his forehead and steps around the counter, pressing the Play button on the boombox. 

“Okay, ladies, here we go! One song for warm-up, just move around the room however you like, feel the music.” 

Some atrocious, boppy pop number starts to blare through the room, but Eddie hardly processes it. He’s too preoccupied by the sight in front of him. 

Legs. 

And an ass. 

Legs and an ass in fucking tights. They hug Steve’s form like a second skin, bringing out every muscle, and Christ, there’s a lot to bring out! Guy looks like one of these ancient Greek marble statues - if marble statues wore fucking Tears for Fears shirts and could balance on their tippy toes and do leaps and spins in perfect sync with the music, all with flawless core tension and a seemingly effortless smile. 

Eddie thinks he may need to step out. Take a breather. Throw himself crotch-first into the nearest snowdrift, maybe. 

Instead, he takes two shaky steps backwards and collapses on top of the nearest sofa, grabs a random magazine from the pile and fans it open in his lap to hide his very unfortunate predicament. 

It’s Good Housekeeping. 

Steve spins by, catches his eye and winks again. 

Eddie turns back to the magazine. Cool, fine, he always wanted to know about the ten best apple pie recipes to delight your loved ones with. 

He does hope this magazine is sturdy, or he might just tear through it.

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

[thatsbelievable]

[blackwolfstabs]

Parker's Secret Santa Gifts🎄for @alkivm

ONE NORMAL NIGHT

In the heart of winter and in the dead of night, you and Wednesday share the woods.

fandom: Wednesday (2022) pairing: Wedesnday Addams × Fem!Vampire!Reader a/n: this is my 1st × reader ever so i'm feeling very insecure about it.. however, i wanted to do something up your alley, Alk. i also wanted to write from Wednesday because i knew writing something of Sam would be too predictable of me haha. anyways, i hope you enjoy!!

You slid into the partially dark dorm room that held your girlfriend’s strong scent. For someone as dark and mysterious as Wednesday, you never expected her to have a smell that was actually calming. However, this made it easier for you to find her. Being a vampire allowed you the same nose the werewolves had. Maybe even better, in your opinion…

Speaking of werewolves, Enid’s side of the room was the dark side, for once. She must’ve been out with her girl pack. This led you to immediately find Wednesday seated at her desk with a lit lamp as the clicking of the typewriter keys echoed off the walls. Her writing time, you presumed with a small smirk and shake of your head. It was part of her nightly routine. 

But you were looking for a night where they could just be with each other. It had snowed all day, but with the dark that you both adored, came clear skies and moonlight that made the snow sparkle. Wednesday, of course, didn’t care for sparkly things, but you hadn’t seen anything more vintage in decades. And you wanted to share that with her.

You wanted one normal night.

She never stopped typing, her black eyes undivided, but there was something about the way her shoulders braced that told you that she knew you were there. So, you approached her, but before you could speak, she did.

“What is it, Y/N?” she asked flatly. “You know this is my—”

“Yes, yes, I know. This is your writing time,” you cut her off as you stopped behind her chair and leaned against it. “I was thinking… maybe we could take a walk through the woods? We’ve been shut indoors all day because of the snowfall, and the moon is rather beautiful tonight.” You heard her give a short huff, which encouraged you to follow up with, “Almost as beautiful as you…”

Wednesday scoffed as she felt you lean down and kiss her cheek. You had just been outside, on your way over, so your lips were cold against her warm skin. It made her pull away slightly, “Oh, please, your pick-up lines are aging on me.” But even she had her own jokes to turn around on you, and she glanced up to tease, “Almost as much as you.”

To be fair, you did not see that coming as you looked away in mock offense. “You've been waiting to spring that one on me, haven’t you?”

She shrugged and went back to her writing, “Not really. You just fell into the trap.”

“Sly psychic,” you rolled your eyes.

“Dumb vampire.”

God, the way she just threw back words in any situation that made her charisma grow had your vampire instincts tingling. It made you frisky and longing for a hunt. However, if Wednesday followed your lead, you could take the thirst just to have one night with her. “Please?” you hated to beg, yet here you were doing it for her. “Can’t you spare one day of cutting your writing time short?”

Your borderline-desperate tone made her give a small smirk, and that gave you a little bit of hope. You had other plans for that night anyway, so you would make sure she’d show her side of the duality you had gotten the pleasure to know.

“Let me finish this paragraph,” she eventually gave in. 

You let her do so without trouble, pacing around the room like a caged tiger while you waited. And then she stood up from her chair and turned around to catch you looking at her.

“You’ve got the patience of a saint.” The sarcasm was thick in her flat tone.

You just shrugged and nodded to the tunic-length jacket that was lying on her bed, “That should be warm enough for you.”

The raven gave you an uncertain look as she went to retrieve it and slip it on. “Sometimes, I think you forget that I’m not a vampire,” she commented, clearly not convinced one jacket would keep her warm in the snowy wilderness.

“Never,” you assured her. When she turned around and approached you with her dark eyes trying to figure out the million thoughts behind your glowing ones, you gave her a wink. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll keep you warm.” 

She didn’t look convinced. “I’m thrilled.” Then again, she never did.

You never took that personally from her. After all, she was the one to insinuate a relationship that was more than friends. She had even stolen the first kiss between you two. As uninterested as she tried to seem, you knew she was curious about what you had in mind. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have followed you out.

The bitter cold of the winter night suited you just fine as you stepped out of the heated indoors and shook your head out to relish the chilly freedom. You sighed in delight, before looking over your shoulder to see Wednesday pacing up next to you. 

She blinked unsteadily, the breeze stinging her eyes and cheeks as her bangs were swept aside. She crossed her arms and hugged them against her chest. “It had to be tonight?”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, come on, Wednesday, it’s not that bad!” You gave her a playful nudge. “You just need to get that warm blood pumping,” you then teased, your breed leaving you immune to the freeze.

She just growled in annoyance, which made you decide to take the first step—well, more like the second step now… “So, try and keep up,” you told her, then raced away into the woods.

It must have caught her off-guard, because she immediately followed hot in pursuit. “Y/N!” It was like she hadn’t even thought about the fact that she was rushing into a game of Tag, like it was a mindless effort that sent her after you.

Her calls made you run faster, weaving through the trees like a trained dog in agility, and you let out a triumphant howl that sent the crows scattering into the night sky. In return, you actually got a few calls back from the werewolves scouting the forest as well. “Hey, Wednesday!” you hollered over your shoulder, “you think one of those is your roommate?!”

You could hear your girlfriend’s panting grow louder as she flanked you a few yards back. “No!” she answered, “Enid wouldn’t be caught dead in this kind of cold!”

“But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?!” Being an Addams gave you so much freedom to joke about death, considering you were already dead inside. It was meant to be.

“Not tonight, Y/N!”

You just laughed and raced on, filing deeper and farther into the world of forestry that almost shielded the moonlight. The wind seemed to be going 100 miles per hour against your skin, making a million scents bathe your tongue every time you breathed in. 

And then the scent of fur and fresh-kill caught your senses. You were gaining too close to the werewolves, so you figured this was a good place to stop.

Wednesday, on the other hand, didn’t have as keen a sense of smell, which kept her racing on. She couldn’t see you anymore, but she had done that dance before. The amount of times she’d run through this very forest was unimaginable, especially with a destination known or unknown in mind. She wasn’t afraid of running through the dark; however, the crisp cold air was taking a toll on her lungs. She called out for you, slowing down to catch her breath. “Y/N?!”

Compared to the way she’d sounded a few minutes ago, back at the dorm, she wasn’t so uptight about everything. And that was where you wanted her.

The raven slowed all the way, when she didn’t receive a response from you. She glanced around as she trotted forward. “Y/N?” Her panting was silenced among the breeze and so was your movement in the low branch of the nearest tree.

When she passed it, you grabbed her arm and pulled it towards the trunk. She yelped and spun around, yanking her arm away to look up and meet your golden eyes. “Sorry,” you giggled, releasing her to comb your wind-tossed hair back with one hand. 

Her voice went back to its natural, monotoned-self. “Why are you in a tree?”

“We’re too close to the werewolves,” you nearly whispered the explanation. Then, you held your hand out to her. “Come on, I’ll help you up.” 

The gold shimmer in your eyes struck the lightest reflection in hers as she took it and let you pull half of her weight up onto the same branch.

You knew she wasn’t the most comfortable person with heights without being guarded by some sort of railing, so you made sure she was steady before you continued to lead the way up. Being a vampire, your agility and strength were reliable. You could weave quicker through the limbs. And once you reached almost ¾-ths of the way up, you crouched to check on your girlfriend.

Despite her size and normal human strength, she actually kept up well, only being a few branches below. However, being the lady vampire you were, you had lived for a few centuries. So, chivalry was definitely not dead in your era, just evolved out of the strictly-male ideals. “Wednesday!” She paused her climbing to glance up at you, which made you hold your hand out to her again. “I got you.” The cold must have been biting at her because she grabbed your hand with no hesitation, and you lifted her up, wrapping one arm around her waist to safely bring her to your level. 

She wouldn’t admit it, but the raven was relieved that you had the decency to allow her to be closest to the tree trunk. She glanced down, almost nervously, but left it undetectable as she asked, “Is there any reason why you insist on being so high up?”

“No one can see us from up here.” 

She shifted skeptically. 

“I thought you liked being uncomfortable,” you smirked. You caught the way she curved her fingers into the bark, threatening to clutch it if the branch that held them teased a crack or two.

Wednesday gave a slightly flustered sigh. “The last time I was in a tree, things didn’t go so well.” When she looked your way again, the moon light dappling through the trees made her eyes show a shade of brown that wasn’t common in her natural aesthetic. 

It took some of the frost away from the cold that you didn’t realize you could feel until that deep gaze met yours. Her frame looked even smaller as she backed up to secure herself against the trunk, which you knew she did to brace herself in case anything happened. You softened your voice as you moved closer to her. “I won’t let you fall,” the words came so naturally, it was almost considered pure.

She blinked at you. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Y/N…” 

You stopped a short distance from her, close enough to see what she hoped you wouldn’t: her desire for comfort. You slid one hand around her waist and the other over her cheek to block the winter breeze. “Here’s my promise,” you whispered, then pulled her into a gentle kiss.

To your surprise, she fell into it instantly, almost as if she was thinking of the same thing. She must have felt secure in your arms, for she then put her arms around your torso. And through the kiss, you smiled. 

She pulled away. “Is that all you got?” she tested you, looking away and over your shoulder to bait you into moving elsewhere than her lips.

You took in a deep breath, and her scent was so strong that you could almost taste her… You felt your golden gaze start to burn and your mouth start to salivate. There was a surge of power that entwined your bloodstream, and the thrill to drink made you stare at her open neck. Well… almost open. “Are you teasing me, Ms. Addams?” you asked her as you dipped your head towards the crook of her neck and nosed her braid over her shoulder, fully exposing her warm skin. 

“Bite me, Y/LN,” she almost purred into your ear. It was supposed to be a tease, but it came out more as a command.

But it was your pleasure, regardless. “Not until we’re in bed, my cold-hearted darling,” you replied, then pressed your lips to her neck. It was hard not to bite her right now. Just a little taste of that sweet drink that came out of the most savage student in Nevermore Academy would have sufficed. But you wouldn’t. Not now. For now, you forced yourself to only kiss and suckle her skin in a slow trail down her neck, but you did manage to let your fangs nip her every now and then.

All the while, Wednesday laid her head on your shoulder, sighing through the treatment with small moans, while her black nails curled into your spine when your fangs would catch her soft skin. 

It was the perfect mix of Heaven and Hell.

It was angelic and demonic.

It was sweet and stubborn.

It was you and Wednesday…

On this one normal night.

merry christmas/happy holidays alk! i hope this made you smile and i'm wishing you a very pleasureable rest of the season. thank you for being such a supportive friend 🎄✨🎁

- parker (BWS)

[yrsonpurpose]

Happy Christmas, Henry

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Holiday/Seasonal Prompts

Monthly Prompt Lists

Spooktober/Halloween Prompts

Christmas Prompts Compilation

24 Days of Gift-Giving - Advent Calendar

Fluffy Winter Holiday Prompts

New Year’s Eve Prompts

New Year’s Dialogue Prompts

Valentine’s Day Prompts

Spring Vibes

Summer Vibes

Fall Vibes

Fall AUs

Winter Vibes

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

[writingwithfolklore]

Creating Fictional Holidays

     Happy Holidays everyone!

     Like mythology or folklore, holidays can add an extra bit of realism and magic to your fictional worlds, and provide for an interesting setting to portray characters, culture, or even family dynamic.

      While you can use real world holidays and adapt them to your worlds, you may also want to create your own! Here’s a few things to consider:

1. What does your holiday celebrate?

Typically, holidays come from historical events or events believed to have happened by religious groups. Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Christ. Diwali celebrates the victory of light over darkness, or good’s triumph over evil. Passover celebrates Israelites’ escape from slavery. This would be a great chance to delve into the history of your world, and how it forms and influences communities.

Otherwise (and as well as), holidays can be expressions of important cultural values such as community, hard work, or family. The Day of the Dead (or Dia de los Muertos) is the celebration of honoring passed family members, Labour day is held to honour the struggle for unionization by working people. What does your holiday say about the society or community that created it?

2. How has your holiday adapted?

As much as holiday is entrenched in longstanding tradition, there is no escaping modernization and adaption to contemporary norms. As much as Christmas is a religious holiday at its roots, for many, it’s a celebration of family and gift giving. Rather than being a saint, Santa has become the jolly toy-maker separated from religion entirely.

If your holiday began to celebrate say Harvest season, but in modern times ‘harvest season’ is no longer regularly recognized, how does this society continue to celebrate this holiday? Where does tradition and modern standards intersect?

3. How do people perceive the holiday?

Even joyous, wholesome holidays are going to have haters. Just think of Valentines Day coming around every year—there are people who love it, people who hate it, and people who see it as a superficial excuse to fund capitalism and consumer culture. What do the people of your world believe about the holiday, or what groups/communities are invited or left out?

4. What rituals go into celebrating your holiday?

During Christmas, many families bring in a tree, wrap gifts to put under it, and bake cookies for a secret intruder in the night. A ritual is just a way people honour something—it doesn’t necessarily have to be cultish or ‘evil’. What longstanding rituals go into the celebration of your holiday?

Maybe gifts are exchanged, candles are lit, cards are given out, money is donated, certain foods are given up or certain times limit eating (such as fasting), families gather, parties are held, etc. etc. There are thousands of ways people celebrate what’s important to them. Consider how each family or character in your story might take a slightly different spin on the same rituals.

I hope no matter what or how you celebrate this year, you get time to spend with your loved ones <3

[wronghands1]

[rhymingtherapy]

I’ve been busy

crafting holiday gifts—

sculpting delicate hearts

from air dry clay;

reflecting on friendships

near & far—

acquaintances who left

& soulmates who stayed;

tying satin bows &

stringing wooden beads;

painting shimmering stars

to hang on glittering trees;

there’s much to do

before another year

recedes from view…

& next December

comes round again.

@RhymingTherapy—December 2023 (my photos)

[night-market-if]

A Kristus Story: A Night Market Holiday Tale

It's the most wonderful time of the year and Yule is in full swing within the Night Market. Join your choice of characters during the festive season and unlock the secrets of Kristus within Artisan Alley.  Will you show compassion? Will you understand the motives behind the season? Or will you kill a snowman? It's all up to you in this 87k interactive short.

A Kristus Story takes place a year or two after Book 2. You don't have to have started book 2 to read this story, but I do advise that you have read Book 1 of the Night Market. Available on my itch.io page.

Purchase here

[raineandsky]

#119

tw: wasps

The hero turns their attention to the supervillain on the end of row with drooped shoulders and tired eyes. “And you,” they snap shortly, “what’s your superpower?”

The villain sitting next to the supervillain snorts into her hand. The supervillain frowns playfully. “Do I need one?”

“I’m not a big pattern finder, but every one of you felons has had one so far.” The hero taps their pen near the bottom of their paper, where the supervillain knows their name inevitably sits in perfect black print. “What is it?”

“Does people management count as a power?”

If the hero’s expression turned any more sour it’d be unbearable. “Your real superpower, [Supervillain].”

The way the supervillain’s lips curl upward is an answer in itself. 

“You’re all here for a long time,” the hero says with a scowl, raising their voice for the other villains further down the line before turning their hard gaze back to the supervillain. “All the time in the world for you to tell me.”

-

A long time, in a hero’s book, is probably several lifetimes. For a villain, it’s a few well-spent hours. 

The villains blast a hole in the wall and escape into the night with whoops of laughter. The supervillain helps everyone clamber over the rubble, leader that they are, and is carefully guiding the last of their associates through the debris when a voice rings out from behind them to ruin the fun.

“Stop!” the hero calls, as if the villains have ever been good at listening.

Ah—that little twerp from earlier, with the tired face and the scrawling list of superpowers. The supervillain pushes the villain over the last of the rubble before turning to face their new nemesis.

They hold their hands up in surrender, their head cocked to the side. “Or what?”

The hero pulls something the supervillain can’t see from their belt as they take their stride pulls them closer. “Or I might get you in prison long enough to find out what your deal is.”

They step into a swing like it’s a waltz. The supervillain sweeps out of reach like their partner in the tune.

Just enough time to make sure everyone gets away. That’s all they need.

The hero moves in for another strike and the supervillain just about ducks their arm. The air slices over their head, and they finally realise that the hero’s weapon of choice is a blade.

“I don’t have a deal,” the supervillain says easily. “You must know that by now.”

The hero darts back from a swinging punch. “You do have a deal, because you have a superpower and you won’t tell me what it is!”

The supervillain lurches for the hero, like the melee will take their mind off the dangerous ideas they’re barrelling towards. The hero pulls to the side, just, their knife already poised to retaliate. The supervillain barely has the time to avoid them, and the consequence finds itself in a burning crimson gash across their arm.

“I have nothing to tell you,” they snap, careful to keep the distance between themself and the blade twisting in the hero’s hand. “Is it so hard to believe some of us are normal?”

“Considering all you scumbags do nothing but brag about how powerful you are—” Another swipe, another near miss from the supervillain’s face “—yes.”

The supervillain falls forward into another swing, but the hero hops aside like it’s nothing. The supervillain’s spent the last three hours escaping. The hero’s probably spent them sleeping. As much as they’d never admit it, the supervillain’s at a disadvantage.

They glance over their shoulder to the hole in the wall. One of the villains is lingering outside, watching with wide eyes and restless feet. The supervillain tries to make some gesture at him to leave, and he seems to take the hint as he turns on his heel and runs.

More time to make up for. As if they need to waste any more of it.

Looking away was a mistake realised too late. The hero leaps for them in that half second, and their blade scrapes a deep, jagged gash into the supervillain’s chest.

The sudden flash of pain makes the supervillain stagger. Another hero appears on the corner, and the supervillain knows this is over if they don’t do something now.

The supervillain swings their hands in a roundabout motion, their expression stony with concentration. The hero stops the other hero as she gets close, their eyes trained on the supervillain curiously.

The supervillain’s hands clap together. The hero flinches. Nothing happens.

Then, from the hole in the wall, comes a single wasp.

The hero’s gaze flits between the supervillain and the random insect hovering next to them. The supervillain’s finger flicks out to point to them, and the wasp starts flitting towards them. 

The other hero steps back like this is horrifying. The hero raises an eyebrow. “Is… Is this your superpower?”

“I control wasps,” the supervillain says tightly, like the words are refusing to come out. They kind of are, because they never wanted to admit this. “But only one at a time.”

The wasp gets too close. The hero swats at it and its beeline is disrupted, thrown downward slightly by the force. It goes too low, and the hero shoves a foot out to crush it beneath their shoe.

There’s silence for a moment. The hero looks down at their own foot like they’re surprised by their own actions. “How the hell do you get to the top of villainy with a power like that?”

The supervillain grins, like that’ll hide the horrifying pain of having to reveal their power at all. “People management.”

And the confusion of their superpower, it seems, is their saving grace—the supervillain disappears into the evening with two heroes staring down at the splat of the insect on the ground in front of them.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

We got each other (and that's a lot)

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 18

Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Rated: M

CW: Violent imagery; aftermath of injury

Tags: Steve got vecna'd (he's okay, though); Angst; Trauma; Fluff

Notes: Continued from day 3. They'll be fine, they just need to kiss some and get a lot of therapy, probably.

Wanna see these soft, broken boys sleeping? Check out the heartwrenching art by @house-of-the-moving-image

Eddie drifts.

Inky blackness surrounds him like cotton, every sound, every thought muffled. His neck and fingers and arms still hurt, but it's the dull kind that comes with exhaustion, the tingle of adrenaline finally rushing from his body. Some distant part of him is still stirring, demanding that they stay alert … but the darkness is warm and soft and alluring as it pulls him under. 

Something cold touches his hand. 

Eddie flinches awake, heart kickstarting in his chest, fear zapping into his limbs like an electric current.

He fell asleep, he realizes, and the terror of it claws its way up his throat like a slimy, rotten tangle of vines. He fell asleep and when he opens his eyes it'll be to find Steve floating under the ceiling again, to find Steve's mangled corpse on the bed, eyes sucked from their sockets, face twisted in an eternal, grotesque scream, it's too late and he fell asleep, he fucking fell asleep while- 

Steve is awake. 

Steve is awake and he's looking at him and he's alive and his hand is lying on top of Eddie’s. It's cold and there's a needle in it from the IV cord and he's ghastly pale against the sheets, but he's smiling softly and he's alive, he's alive and Eddie wants to scream, to cry, to kiss him and never stop, to hold him and never let go-

"Hey," Steve whispers. 

"Hey," Eddie croaks. "You look like shit, man."

"Aw," says Steve, and the corners of his mouth twitch and Eddie thought he'd never see his smile again and shitshitshit don't cry, Munson, don't cry. "Thought I was pulling it off real well." 

He jerks his head in the general direction of the cast on his right leg, the one on his left arm. Eddie thinks he'll hear the sound of the bones breaking in his nightmares for the rest of his life.

"Typical," is what he says. "Half dead and still worried about your looks." 

Steve hums a not-quite-laugh. His fingers caress the back of Eddie’s hand. 

"Is he …?" 

"Dead," Eddie blurts. "For real this time. It's over." 

"The kids?" Steve's fingers twitch.

"Fine," Eddie says, watches how Steve's entire form sags with relief. "Buckley and Wheeler, too. And everyone else. It's over." 

"I- good." Steve screws his eyes shut, gulps. Draws a shuddering breath. "That's good." 

Eddie watches how his shoulders start shaking. Following a sudden impulse, he flips his hand and tangles his hand with Steve's, careful not to upset the needle. Steve blinks down at their entwined fingers. 

Eddie forces himself to smile and rambles on before either of them can question the gesture. 

"El was so fucking metal, you should've seen her. Like, the way she obliterated that douchebag? Remind me to never get on that girl's bad side! Seriously, man, I don't think any of us would be here if she hadn't-" 

"Well, I don't think I would be here …" says Steve. "... if it hadn't been for you." 

Eddie’s words barrel to a stop. Steve’s fingers tighten against his, trace the callouses on his hands. Steve’s smile is small and soft, but his eyes are serious, trained stubbornly on the ugly pattern of his hospital gown. 

"I thought you hated Bon Jovi." 

Eddie huffs. "Fuck, yeah, I do. Forcing me to besmirch my Sweetheart's strings with that mainstream shit? You owe me big time, man. Better start thinking of ways to pay me back."

"Yeah?" Steve raises their tangled hands lightly. "How's this for a start?" 

And then, before Eddie can even wonder what he's about to do, he ducks his head and presses a kiss to his knuckles. His lips are soft and warm. 

Eddie blinks. Waits for the world to stop spinning. 

"For … a start?" he repeats dumbly. 

Steve's eyebrow quirks. 

"Dude, I'd like to do so much more, but I'm glad I managed to lift your hand, to be honest. We should also first talk about stuff, I guess." 

"Oh," Eddie says intelligently. "You mean … like that thing you wanted to tell me?" 

"Yeah, like tha- … that thing." Steve needs to interrupt himself for a huge yawn halfway through. Since one of his arms is in a cast and the other hand is refusing to let go of Eddie’s, it ends up open-mouthed and adorable. "Probably'll have to sleep some more b'fore that, though …"

"Sure thing," Eddie is out of his chair and fussing with the pillow before he realizes what he's doing. Steve's eyes are already drooping as he helps him settle down. "I'll … I'll be outside, tell the others you're-" 

"Eddie?" Steve's grip around his wrist is light as a feather, but he still stops like he's been tethered in place. When he turns, there's fear swimming in those pretty eyes. "Stay? I don't … I'd rather not be alone." 

Eddie is back in his chair before Steve can finish the sentence. 

"Can you…" Steve's eyes are slipping shut again and his words are slurred, so that Eddie must lean closer to catch them. "D’you think you can sing? So I can find my way back, if- … Your voice is like light."

Eddie doesn’t know what to say to that, doesn’t know if there's anything he could possibly say to that. So he says nothing. Just swallows around the lump in his throat and takes Steve's hand and starts singing softly. 

By the time Steve's breath evens out and his fingers go limp, Eddie’s other hand has found its way into his hair. 

Eddie keeps singing for a long while.

For as long as he's here, Steve will always have someone to guide him back.

Part 3

All my holiday drabbles

[thatsbelievable]

[joytri]

[skymoral]

🩵 Bi-Han W/ Children Headcannons (Holiday Edition) 🩵

Bi-Han doesn’t celebrate Christmas and he thinks it’s a waste of time and energy. Although you encourage him to at least do it once for the kids

Of course Bi-Han does anything for his children, at least tries to for certain festivities

You try to explain to him how it works on this particular holiday. Which he understood, at least you thought. He was going to buy them the whole toy store.

“Bi-Han you can’t just buy a whole store?” You told him. He just looked at you confused, “Why can’t I, if I have the money I can. I am not committing a crime if it is paid!” He did have a point, but you advised him to get only what they really want.

The children would lay hints around on what they want expecting this year to be the year there father would get them something.

You are also not excluded from gift giving, as you had something special planned for him. With the kids

He wanted to find and give you the most beautiful jewels. Which your girlfriends thought was beautiful

“Do you think she’ll like it?” Bi-Han asked your friends. “If a bitch like me got something like that, I’m fucking you non-stop… like damn! Do you take concubines.” One of your friends joke

You never thought in a million years he would ask you family and friends on advice for gifts for you and the children.

The children were easy to please, and when it came from their father. MAN! They felt like they were in heaven or something

It was time for his family to show him his gift, something they learned themselves and practiced… With a slight help from Kuai Liang

They were all outside Bi-Han, his brothers, and the Lin Kuei. The space was designed nicely and Bi-Han had his own special front row seat.

It was slightly snowing, and there were lights surrounding this big square stage. You and the kids got on stage. The sons and daughters, all of you in a blue attire

You and the girls in Hanfus and the boys in blue male Hanfus.

They had swords in their hands and are in formation. “This is a special Christmas gift for our great grandmaster Bi-Han.”

When I say Bi-Han was speechless and loved it, he was speechless and loved it. It was so well performed and looked magically in the snow.

You all ended with a bow, looking at how proud Bi-Han and everyone was.

The rest of the night turned out wonderful, and this Holiday is one you glad Bi-Han and the children will remember forever.

A/N: It’s a LIN KUEI HOLIDAY!🩵❄️❄️

[youneedsomeprompts]

Christmas/Winter holiday prompts - masterlist

Feel free to use and reblog!

~ Warm hearts ~ Christmas activity prompts

~ Snowy days ~ another Christmas prompt list - two-word prompts

~ Under the mistletoe ~ Christmas prompts

~ Visiting for the holidays ~ Christmas prompts

~ Fights over a gift ~ dialogue prompts

~ Love hurts ~ sad Christmas prompts

~ Fun in the snow ~ fluffy Christmas prompts

~ It's Christmas time ~ holiday event prompts

~ First Christmas as a couple ~ prompts

~ Holidays together? ~ rivals-to-lovers prompts

10 ice skating prompts

10 winter couple holidays prompts

~ Hanukkah ~ prompts