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#santa company anime
prplocks · 4 months
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🎄❤🎄 santa company twitter packscreen
reblog if you save 🎆
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3lix13 · 4 months
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Happy Holidays and best wishes to all! Here's hoping the protection payments are on time and the paradox absorbing crumple zones are up to code in the coming new year....!  (tried out the new update from TVPaint Développement for the ink & paint on this after a long stint doing vector art in Toon Boom Harmony)
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dailyfatefigures · 1 year
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Jeanne d'Arc Alter Santa Lily - 1/7 Scale by Good Smile Company
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kaytory · 1 year
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#Netflix and other streaming platforms like it moved their film and productions from Hollywood to New Mexico. Hollywood#known as a hub in the moviemaking industry#today is practically undesirable. This was mostly due to the imposition of extra costs#extreme protocols when it comes to personal protection equipment#and huge outbreaks of covid. They increased insurance costs for production companies. Hollywood sought to use the pandemic to its own advan#industry leaders took their business to New Mexico.#In addition to inflated prices#California requires a certain number of booster shots. Their arrogance does not allow industry workers a choice. The state determines the n#it drove industry leaders to leave Hollywood. In my mind it makes a lot of sense. If companies remained in Hollywood#they were going to lose money before they even began to create the work. Hollywood greed cost them their status and reputation.#New Mexico welcomes the industry. They offer “tax incentives that include a 25% to 35% production tax credit for film#TV#commercials#documentaries#music videos#video games#animation#postproduction and more.” Other credits are also available to production companies as well. This city has made itself number one in moviema#In 2019#Netflix and NBCUniversal partnered with the city on a ten-year plan. Albuquerque and Santa Fe#New Mexico are a force to reckon with in the movie industry. “New Mexico’s film incentives continue to be a gold standard in the industry.”#https://www.abqjournal.com/.../nm-film-industry-sets...#and Finishing What you Start Seminar#1/7/23
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thegoddamnedmagpie · 4 months
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Y'know im starting to think maybe anime isnt the best vehicle for christmas stories. Just maybe.
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ljaesch · 1 year
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Kenji Studio Cancels the Kickstarter for the English Release of the Santa Company Anime Film
Kenji Itoso’s KENJI STUDIO canceled its Kickstarter campaign for the English-dubbed and English-subtitled version of the Santa Company: Secret of Christmas anime film on January 14, 2023. The campaign had raised US$7,288 of its US$9,238 goal. KENJI STUDIO posted a statement regarding the cancellation on January 14, 2023, but the statement is locked to backers only. Kickstarter suspended KENJI…
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are Hanukkah sweaters a Jewish thing? i've seen them before but 90% of the time, they're people trying to make christmas displays more "inclusive." so are they legit Jewish or no?
Rating: Capitalism.
Hanukkah sweaters are a prime example of what I previously characterized as "capitalism's tendency to tepidly repackage any Christmas symbols in literally or metaphorically blue-and-silver wrapping paper to appeal to a Jewish market." As the "ugly sweater" phenomenon has grown more popular, retailers saw an excellent opportunity to widen their market by having "Hanukkah" versions.
That said, there's a wide range of Hanukkah sweaters out there, some of which are more problematic than others. Ones that are literally just recolored Christmas designs with a couple Jewish-y things tacked on, like this "Shalom Gnome" design or this "Oy to the World" design are more problematic than enthusiastically tacky designed-from-the-beginning-to-be-Jewish ones. The former says "Hanukkah! It's Christmas for Jews! Jews! They're just Christians without Santa or Jesus!" while the latter says, "Oh, you're going to walk around with an eyesore sweater full of tinsel and actual little jingle bells as though anyone could possibly forget that it's Christmas season in this country? I see you, I see you, and I'm just going to casually wear this sweater with a menorah and candles that actually light up because Judaism rocks, that's why."
Then there's a whole genre of Hanukkah sweaters with, let's say, more adult content, and people's mileage may greatly vary on how they feel about them. Personally, I find the ones riffing off more secular aspects of the holiday to be largely harmless, such as this "You Spin Me Right Round, Baby" design with dreidels. On the other hand, while some may find it amusingly subversive, I find ones making fun of the religious part of the holiday (i.e., the actual hanukkiah/menorah) to be in poor taste at best. There are a plethora of "let's get lit" Hanukkah sweaters like this one that genuinely annoy me. (For one thing, Hanukkah isn't even a drinking holiday! If you want a drinking holiday, we actually have those but Hanukkah isn't it!) Ones like this that make it into a creepy pick-up line actively disgust me. And this "gelt digger" one is genuinely antisemetic, given the stereotypes about Jews and money.
I would be remiss not to mention what I personally think is the best of the Hanukkah sweater subgenres: animal puns. My fiance owns this Meowzel Tov sweater with a truly garish design. What does "mazel tov" have to do with Hanukkah, you may ask? Absolutely nothing, but hey, cats! Can't be upset about Jewish cats! Similarly, llamas? Not Jewish at all! But Happy Llamakka? Okay, cute pun, cute graphic, I'm reluctantly charmed. Your Menorasaurus would not be kosher for actual use as the candles are all different heights, but you know what, that actually makes me smile.
So, basically: If you get joy out of being loudly Jewish during a season where everything is yelling about Christianity all the time, go ahead and wear your ridiculous ugly sweater to the company party. Just take a close look at the design to make sure it's not actually full of Christmas trees, not pretending something extremely Christmas is Jewish because it's a pun now, doesn't use Charedi men as a cartoon stand-in for anyone Jewish, and doesn't makes being Jewish primarily about not being Christian.
In sum: RIP my browser history, I'm going to be getting such terrible ads for the next several weeks. Click the links at your own risk.
~Mod Leora
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nightingaelic · 3 months
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Things that are Now Fallout Canon
(according to the Special LIVE Report from Galaxy News that preceded the Fallout TV series' teaser trailer release on December 2, 2023)
Vault 33, the focus vault of the Fallout television series, is located beneath Santa Monica, California. It's also implied to be very, very expensive to get into.
Bottle and Cappy, the mascots for Nuka-Cola and its theme park, Nuka-World, were about to embark on a seventeen-movie-long series of animated films before the bombs fell.
The sinking of the RMS Titanic happened in Fallout's alternate universe. The news announcer jokes about the world going down like the infamous ship, including the deadly lack of lifeboats.
Camels exist in this universe, too! The news announcer actually fucks this one up, because he says dromedary camels have two humps - dromedary camels have one hump, while Bactrian camels have two. Or maybe we'll get a sound bite from Todd Howard in a few months where he claims the camel breed names are swapped in Fallout, who knows.
Pets were not allowed in the commercially-advertised vaults. The news announcer regrettably informs listeners that they can't bring their cats, dogs, or even fish with them due to logistical concerns and safety hazards, but they are more than welcome to purchase Vault-Tec-branded gravestones and hold pet funerals before they move underground. Hypothetically-speaking, it wouldn't surprise me if people tried to smuggle their animals in, anyway.
Someone stole the Fallout universe's original moon landing flag from the Museum of Technology in Washington, D.C. - another headline report, with no further details. It was in the same exhibit as the Virgo II lunar lander, which stayed put for at least 200 years.
Vault Boy was named "World's Sexiest Man" in 2077 (when the report is being aired) - no word about which publication or organization bestowed this title upon an animated mascot.
Vault-Tec trademarked the thumbs-up emoji in the Fallout universe - which is very much in character for the company, but something about there being emojis in the world at all hit me wrong.
Vault-Tec instituted a "breeder search program" alongside vault placement purchases, and encouraged polyamory to get people to procreate (and buy more vault spots). I'll admit that this one seems plausible but shaky, because by this point in the report the news announcer is losing his mind while stalling for the vault door to open, and he might just be making shit up.
Nuka-Cola ran its own version of the Pizza Hut "BOOK IT!" reading program, called "ZAP IT!" Kids were required to read over 10,000 books to win rewards. If we use picture books for the math, and allow for five minutes to read each book, that's about 833 hours (34 straight days) of reading to get some soda.
Moby-Dick by Herman Melville and the ancient Greek myth of Daedalus and Icarus both exist in the Fallout universe.
Resulting Thoughts
"The ghoul" in the show is possibly named Howard - unsure if that's a first or last name. In the teaser trailer, Walton Goggins (who plays the ghoul) is shown dressed like a Hollywood cowboy on the day of the Great War, riding a horse to try to escape the nuclear bombs that hit Los Angeles with an unidentified child. Meanwhile, the Galaxy News headlines report that a box office hit called "The Man From Deadhorse" is getting a sequel, which is currently filming at California Crest Studios, and the news announcer says the film is "Howard-led." Whether the ghoul is the lead actor, we don't know, but it seems like a solid enough hint at his origins.
I'm glad that the show is going to delve more into the idea of the haves and have-nots, what with vault entrance being both selective and expensive. The most recent games in the series don't talk about this enough, in my opinion.
This isn't specific to the show adaptation, but it's becoming more noticeable to me that the Fallout series is crawling forward in terms of relating to modernity. I'm not sure how to feel about this - for example, I don't really mind if the soundtrack of Fallout 76 features the Beach Boys and other 1960s songs when it used to be strictly limited to 1930s and 40s music. On the other hand, I thought that using a news announcer that sounds more like a modern podcast host than a Transatlantic-accented journalist was an odd choice, and as I said above, I really did not like the idea that pre-war America knows what an emoji is. I'll get over it, but I'm anticipating that there will be some more artistic choices in the adaptation (and future games) that rub me and others the wrong way because they don't fit our definition of what Fallout "is." I'm not saying anything new, people have been arguing about that forever.
Overall, I'm excited. We're probably not getting a new Fallout game until 2030, so I might as well try to enjoy this. I will be keeping my bingo cards handy, though.
Anyway, I transcribed the damn report because I'm very normal. Feel free to use!
Fallout - A Special LIVE Report from Galaxy News
with occasional commentary from yours truly
[An upbeat, strings-led orchestral jingle plays, and black-and-white picture focuses on a spinning, silver globe. The globe is being circled by a vintage toy rocket. The words "GALAXY NEWS" fly in, and are quickly wiped and replaced by script declaring "Vault-Tec Presents..." The picture is circle-wiped and transitions to a high view of a vault entrance, with no visible script or markings to indicate which vault it is. The large, circular vault door is closed, and the access bridge to the door is not connected. A timer counting down from 60 minutes is overlaid in the bottom left corner, just above the Galaxy News globe logo and a signal tower graphic next to the word "LIVE." News headlines scroll along the bottom of the screen, the first of which reads "GALAXY NEWS SIGNS 10-YEAR PARTNERSHIP DEAL WITH VAULT-TEC." The headlines are separated by small lightning bolt graphics. The music continues throughout, and a male news announcer's voice cuts in.]
Good morning! Or, afternoon! Or evening, depending on where in the world you are. If you're just tuning in with us now, you're in for a treat. Welcome to the unveiling of Vault 33, one of the flagship vaults of Vault-Tec's arsenal of vaults.
[The second scrolling headline reads "VAULT-TEC VOTED AMERICAN COMPANY WITH BRIGHTEST FUTURE."]
Galaxy News is here live with an exclusive look at the next generation of apocalypse-proof, purpose-built luxury housing, sponsored by our friends at Vault-Tec. Vault-Tec: Revolutionizing safety for an uncertain future.
[The third scrolling headline reads "ROBCO INTERPLANETARY PROBE PROBES DEEPER INTO SPACE THAN ANY PROBE HAS PROBED BEFORE."]
If you're a regular viewer of our programming, we consider you an astute, engaged citizen, doing your part to stay informed on the latest news impacting this beautiful country of ours, and so it will be no surprise to you that we are on the precipice of a nuclear armageddon. But, fear not, Vault-Tec is building the ultimate shelter-in-place solution for the more doomsday-savvy customer: A veritable ark meticulously designed to weather the geopolitical storm surely headed our way any day now. And for the first time on live broadcast, the fine folks at Vault-Tec will be giving you a tour of their newest product unveiling, from the comfort of your home.
[The announcer takes a break, and the music swells. The vault remains closed, and no activity whatsoever is visible around it. It might as well be a static image. The fourth scrolling headline reads "NUKA-WORLD BREAKS ATTENDANCE RECORD FOR FOURTH STRAIGHT YEAR. GALACTIC ZONE GIVEN CREDIT FOR INCREASED NUMBERS." The initial song ends, and a new strings song with a more staccato rhythm begins. The news announcer returns.]
Welcome, once again, to Vault 33, nestled in the coastal west side of sunny Los Angeles County, and minutes from the yet-to-be-destroyed, bustling downtown promenade. Should nuclear annihilation one day come for this quiet beach-side town, you can take comfort in knowing you are safely buried deep, deep below what numerous trade publications once called "one of the best places to live." Right now, ladies and gentlemen, what you're looking at is peace of mind. Billions and billions of dollars and decades of R&D funneled into the high-grade protection engineering that only Vault-Tec can bring you.
[The fifth scrolling headline reads "WE ASKED OUR VIEWERS TO ANSWER A SIMPLE QUESTION: WHAT IS THE GREATEST NATION ON EARTH AND WHY IS IT AMERICA? HEAR THE RESULTS TONIGHT AT 10PM EST." At this point, the news announcer starts to sound less formal and more excited.]
Aren't we a bunch of lucky ducks! Vault-Tec has tapped us into their closed loop security feed to bring you a sneak peek behind a vault entrance airlock. That large, fortified steel blast door you see there is the only thing standing between you and the rads.
[The sixth scrolling headline reads "UNITED STATES AGAIN ACCUSED OF ATMOSPHERIC COUNTER-ESPIONAGE BY THE REDS."]
Very soon - very soon, I'm told - Arnold? Are we - yeah - and we're very soon, and we're very soon. Very, very soon, I'm told, that gear door will open, and Galaxy News will be on the ground to give you all a walking tour of the facilities! Including the accommodations one might expect in a state-of-the-art, modern residence thanks to a partnership with RobCo Industries and some of your shelf-stable forever favorites like BlamCo and Sugar Bombs! There's nowhere to hide from explosive good taste! Boom!
[The news announcer disappears again, and the strings conclude and are replaced with a meandering clarinet-led number. Several scrolling headlines go by: "U.S. RENEWS DEFENSE CONTRACT WITH WEST TEK, HERALDS VALUE OF POWER ARMOR IN ALL THEATERS OF WAR." "ESPIONAGE THREAT SUBDUED IN DOMESTIC URANIUM MINES." "PRESIDENT DECLARES NUCLEAR STOCKPILE 'SAFE ENOUGH.'" "BULLETIN OF THE ATOMIC SCIENCES SETS DOOMSDAY CLOCK TO HALF A NANOSECOND TO MIDNIGHT." "ATLAS OBSERVATORY CHRISTENS NEW TELESCOPE, RE-COMMITTING TO A NON-VIOLENT PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE." The song ends, a new one begins, and the news announcer returns. The vault still hasn't opened, and he's dropped what was left of his professional tone.]
And we are... stalled out. We're still... having technical difficulties. You know, sometimes things go bad and there's just no way you can plan. It's kind of like what's happening with the world right now, there's no way you could've been born into the world and know how you were going to end - know how the world would end. How will the world end, in fire or in ice? Well, it turns out -
[laughter]
It turns out it's gonna be fire...
[The twelfth scrolling headline reads "CHRISTMAS TOY TRENDS: RETAILERS REPORT SHORTAGE OF POWER ARMOR FIGURINES."]
Arnold! What's that? Okay. Yes.
[sound of paper pages being flipped through]
Okay. Arnold just handed me a fun fact. We're gonna do fun facts, fun facts.
[The thirteenth scrolling headline reads "NUKA-COLA QUANTUM GETS FDA APPROVAL, FOUND TO CONTAIN 'HEALTHY AMOUNT OF RADIATION."]
Fun fact about the construction of these massive vaults: They use concrete. Hm. That hardly counts as a fun fact, Arnold. Now is there an update on when the door... the door's gonna be open? Arnold? I'm sorry, is there an update on the door? Is there an update on the crane? Is it a crane problem, or a door problem? Is it a pr- is it a crane problem, or a door problem? Arnold? Arnold! Arnie!
[sigh]
Okay...
[The news announcer gives up, and a song with a lot of muted trumpet comes in to serenade more scrolling headlines. "NO ONE'S BEATING THIS DEADHORSE. 'THE MAN FROM DEADHORSE' TOPS BOX OFFICE. A SEQUEL IS ALREADY IN THE WORKS AT CALIFORNIA CREST STUDIOS." "ATLAS WEATHER EXPERIMENT BELIEVED TO BE THE CAUSE OF UNEXPECTED SNOW FLURRY IN LOS ANGELES." "DEVELOPING: REDS CONTINUES TO DENY EXISTENCE OF STEALTH SUBMARINES, US INTELLIGENCE SUGGESTS OTHERWISE." Woodwinds replace the trumpet, and the news announcer returns, pivoting to an unrehearsed sales pitch for his sponsor.]
If you have the money, please - please, guys - get a Vault-Tec vault. Get in there! Think of it as a life raft, a bit. Our country is the Titanic, and these vaults are the life rafts - right? - attached to the side of it.
[The seventeenth scrolling headline reads "NUKA-COLA MASCOTS 'BOTTLE AND CAPPY' TO APPEAR IN ANIMATED FILM FROM CALIFORNIA CREST STUDIOS. WILL BE THE FIRST IN A SEVENTEEN PICTURE DEAL BETWEEN THE COMPANIES."]
Now, were there enough life rafts on the Titanic? If you remember - no, no there weren't enough, and so many, many people died, and so, it's a nice allegory actually, because they're not going to die in the freezing ocean, which would be - actually, it's a little faster to die by fire than it is by drowning in the cold, so it is kind of an advantage to be dying now, th- rather than on the Titanic, the RMS Titanic.
[The eighteenth scrolling headline reads "SUPPLY LINES FOR RED FORCES BREAKING DOWN." Sort of like this announcer. He pivots again.]
Now - can you call a survivor of a nuclear holocaust a person, anymore? I don't know. Their brain is going to be cottage cheese, and they will be crawling... crawling on the ground, stuffing sand in their mouth, their blind eyes melted out, like the white of an egg, just dripping and dribbling out of their eye sockets.
[The nineteenth scrolling headline reads "VAULT-TEC ANNOUNCES COMPLETION OF VAULT 33 UNDER SANTA MONICA, CA."]
They raise their face towards their... god... and scream, "Nooooo! Whyyyyyy! What did it all mean?" It turns out it didn't mean much if you didn't get a spot in a Vault-Tec vault."
[The twentieth scrolling headline reads "MILITARY UNITS SENT TO QUELL UNREST IN SEVERAL STATES."]
"Now, let's talk about the luxury interiors of Vault-Tec vaults. We have camel leather. You've heard of cow leather. Probably. Camel leather is a great deal softer, isn't it? It comes from the camel, who keep their water on their backs in a hump. Sometimes two, if they're a dromedary. Now, let's talk about camel leather and why it is more supple, and why it is cooler to the touch, and we can talk about it forever but what you want is luxury, what you need is safety: Where you go is Vault-Tec. That's it.
[I feel like I need to point out that dromedary camels only have one hump, and no camels store water in their humps: It's actually just fat up there that they can live off of while traversing deserts. Regardless, the announcer is gone again. The scrolling headlines remain. "NUKA CORP SPINS OFF ATOMIC RESEARCH ARM INTO SEPARATE CORPORATE ENTITY AFTER SEC APPROV." "SUPER DUPER MART ANNOUNCES RECALL OF BLAMCO MAC & CHEESE FOR TRACE AMOUNTS OF DAIRY." "VAULT-TEC STOCKS SOAR AS US ECONOMY BECOMES FEAR-BASED." "BUREAU OF ALCOHOL, TOBACCO, FIREARMS AND LASERS TAKE DOWN NATIONWIDE WEAPONS SMUGGLING RING." Another woodwind-heavy song starts up, and so does our announcer.]
Um... Arnold?
[throat clearing]
Arnie! Can we- do- do we have a- can we start a clock? Can we - is there, like, anything we can do? I feel like people need something to hold onto, there's a lot of empty air. There's a lot of dead air, here. People need something to hold onto, people are freaking out, and I'm freaking out because I like to have - I like to bring people comfort - uh, in, in this crazy time. There's, there's only a few things you can predict -
[laughter]
In - in the world, and uh, I thought that opening the vault on time would be one of those things.
[The twenty-fifth scrolling headline reads "MILITARY SETS THREAT LEVEL OF POSSIBLE BIOLOGICAL WEAPON ATTACK FROM REDS TO HIGH."]
I was kind of counting on it as a - a thing that would bring some amount of normalcy, some amount of comfort. Something happening the way it's supposed to in a world that feels like it has been turned upside down by evil. But, unfortunately that is not the case. Here we are. Another thing we don't know. Another thing we have to grapple with.
[The twenty-sixth scrolling headline reads "TEDDY FEAR MANUFACTURER SETTLES CLASS ACTION LAWSUIT, DENIES TOY BEAR CAUSES SLEEP PARALYSIS NIGHTMARES IN CHILDREN."]
This particular vault and these technical difficulties that we're having right now have absolutely nothing to do with the product that you will buy when you buy a Vault-Tec vault. Now, Vault-Tec vault living is living the dream, and it's the only way to safety unless you're... the President of the United States, or something like that, and you have a mountain in Colorado to go under and direct the events of the world. Not many of us are that, there's only one of those... uh, and his various and sundry advisors, I'm sure they'll be fine, but you won't! You won't be fine!
[The twenty-seventh scrolling headline reads "WERE TEDDY FEAR BEARS MISUNDERSTOOD? ONE PSYCHOLOGIST THINKS SO."]
If a vault is out of your price range, there are lower-cost alternatives to purchasing a spot with Vault-Tec. They don't sound... good, if you ask me. Anti-radiation pills? Good luck with that. Not sure how anti-radiation pills will hold up against temperatures rivaling the surface of the sun, for example. But maybe that's just me!
[He's gone again. We're 15 minutes into the countdown, and the woodwinds have really started to outdo their own whimsy, at this point. Headlines continue. "TEDDY FEARS SKYROCKET IN POPULARITY AND PRICE DUE TO SCARCITY CAUSED BY RECALL." "VAULT-TEC ANNOUNCES NEWLY AVAILABLE SINGLE VAULT SPACES FOR SALE." "THIS YEAR'S FALLOUT SUIT DESIGN FEATURES ENHANCED PROTECTION, 20% MORE ZIPPERS." The whimsical woodwinds finish up and a bouncy, brassy horn piece takes over. This summons the announcer.]
When you see that vault, it's all gonna be worth it, fellas. It's all gonna be worth it when you see that vault. Now kids, you're probably wondering: Can I bring my pet doggy, or my pet kitty, into the vault? You can't. Unfortunately... it's a hazard in so many different ways. Uh... tch, uh, their hair can get caught in the ventilation system, you'll have endless problems, where do you put their waste? Where do you put... their food? So many, so many problems, so... we have specially-made Vault-Tec gravestones.
[The thirty-first scrolling headline reads "VIRGO II LUNAR LANDER NOW ON DISPLAY AT MUSEUM OF TECHNOLOGY IN WASHINGTON, D.C."]
We have specially-made Vault-Tec pet gravestones for your children to have many funerals for their pets before you go into your Vault-Tec vault. Memorialize your pets now with Vault-Tec mini pet gravestones! Dig a hole in the sand, put the pet in there, and put that gravestone - and it's got a space where you can write the pet's name - right before you go in the vault, no pets in the vault. Not even fish. No, not even fish.
[The thirty-second scrolling headline reads "FLAG FROM VIRGO II LUNAR LANDING STOLEN FROM MUSEUM OF TECHNOLOGY." The news announcer is really getting aggravated.]
What is happening? What is - Arnie! What is - what is happening? Okay - okay! Alright!
[The music and the headlines fill the space again. "NUKA-WORLD TO RAISE TICKET PRICES FOR UPCOMING SEASON, EXPECTING AN 'EXPLOSIVE' YEAR." "GWINNETT ANNOUNCES NEW PALE ALE SO PALE IT'S TRANSPARENT." "HAPPY NATIONAL SOCK HOP DAY!" "VAULT BOY NAMED WORLD'S SEXIEST MAN." The news announcer tries again, attempting to play up the complete inactivity happening onscreen.]
So much is happening here, we've got... the crane, as you can see, it's - it's about to be lowered, and I'm told - and I'm told... the weather. The inclement weather is - keep - I think the weather... there's a pressure cha- it needs to be - yes, of course. The pressure needs to be right to open the vault, or else the differential pressure between underground and overground will cause... a, uh... uh, the furniture to, uh...
[The thirty-seventh scrolling headline reads "VAULT-TEC REGISTERS TRADEMARK ON THE THUMBS UP EMOJI." This one made me physically recoil.]
L- Look... get a Vault-Tec vault. If you can't afford a whole vault for your family, that's fine. Buy time in a timeshare, one of our timeshares. And it's not the kind of timeshare you're going to regret, this is one that's not a scam, because you can look down at your intact body in a Vault-Tec vault and say, "Look at me! I'm whole!"
[The thirty-eighth scrolling headline reads "NUKA-COLA PATRIOTICALLY SALUTES SUCCESS OF NEWEST FLAVOR LAUNCH - NUKA-COLA VICTORY. EXCLUSIVE REDESIGN COMING NEXT YEAR WITH 'A TASTE AS SWEET AS FREEDOM.'"]
Stay whole in a Vault-Tec vault! Keep it together, meaning your corporeal form! Keep it together in a Vault-Tec vault! You'll be skipping around in a workout area, and... check out those barbells! Why not work those biceps while you're down here? What if there's an emergency, and somebody breaches your Vault-Tec vault door? Well, you're gonna want to be in shape to fight off that rageful beast!
[At this point the scrolling headlines loop back to the beginning.]
Now, is it a human? If you kill it, will its soul go to heaven or hell? Don't worry about it! Just get it out, because even its presence in your Vault-Tec vault could kill you and your entire family! These people are irradiated. It's not healthy, right? It's like putting your hand on a radiator. Don't do it.
[Music break. That vault still isn't opening. The song ends, and the news announcer clears his throat.]
We don't... have the exact scoop yet, ladies and gentlemen, so Arnie, why don't we put some music on while we wait for the skinny?
[noticeable pause]
I- I- I- I- don't know what song, put on anything, I'm dying up here.
[The next song opens with energetic trumpets that sound like they're charging through a movie theater snack stand. It's followed by a big band track that seems to re-energize the announcer.]
And, if you're just joining us, we're preparing to head inside the latest and greatest product offering from Vault-Tec. Vault 33, a pristine subterranean society purpose-built for America's best and brightest to wait out the nuclear fallout. There's no telling what will remain once this global conflict reaches its inevitable conclusion: That's why it's important for patriots like you to purchase a guaranteed spot in America's future. It's up to you to keep our golden society going, propagating forth until we have the ranks to repopulate the world outside.
"What if I don't have a partner or family right now?" you may be asking. "Don't give up on love so soon!" I say. Where better to meet eligible partners than in a cherry-picked community of like-minded individuals? If you find you need a bit more assistance, Vault-Tec has breeder search programs to help you find the one, or the two, or the three, four, five! Vault-Tec is a very open society, so go ahead and purchase that single vault space, and that single may become a double before you know it! And what better place to find someone to love, than safe underground?
Please stay tuned as we prepare to bring the crew, and the world at large, inside our Vault-Tec facility.
"But what if I don't have the money for a vault right now?" you may be thinking. You should never let not having the funds today stop you from reaching your dreams. You can always pay tomorrow, into perpetuity. Vault-Tec is reportedly constructing financial packages that allow for customers to continue payments on select economy vaults, in the event of total societal extinction. So don't worry, purchase away! Vault-Tec upholds traditional American values, and they believe no one should be excluded from the pursuit of life, liberty, and debt.
[Music break, wherein the song concludes and switches to something more pensive and staccato.]
A- Alright? Yes? Arnold is telling me - yes? We are moments away! Moments away - from having some kind of movement here. I'll believe that when I see it. Sorry Arnie, but your credibility with me could not be any lower at this point.
Let's talk about the amenities in these concrete miracles. Radiation King will be providing television sets, modern kitchen appliances.
[throat clearing]
The sofas will be... I'm sorry, do we know who makes the sofas? I'm sorry, do we - do we know who makes the sofas? Do we know who makes the sofas? Arnold, do we know who makes the sofas?
[Arnold does not reply. The announcer is miffed.]
What else is new. Yeah.
[Dejection turns to anger immediately.]
If you could please just give me something? If you could please just give me something to update? I'm sitting here with nothing! I'm sitting here... with nothing! This isn't my job! I'm a journalist! I report things, I don't... vamp! Is there even a - is, is there a clue? Is there, do the crane people - have the crane people chimed in? Have the door people chimed in? Is it all one person?
[Arnold presumably says some inaudible form of "I don't know." This does not please the news announcer.]
Well maybe con- maybe connect yourself to them. You should get yourself a radio. Get yourself a radio, Arnold. That's your job, to communicate with me the facts about what's going on, and it's my job to communicate to the people who are watching - we're trying to save their lives - you know, and this isn't advertising for me. This is a product I believe in!
Arnold, what do you do? What skills do you - are you somebody's son? Are you - are you somebody's kid, or something?
[Arnold can finally be heard, somewhat garbled from distance or technology: "My uncle is, uh, is the general manager of Galaxy News, your employer." The news announcer considers this.]
Your uncle is the manager of Galaxy New - mmm. Well, that explains how you got this internship. I'm sorry for everything I said, but... you can understand my frustration, here.
[The music concludes, but the announcer keeps going.]
The, uh, vault foreman is out here, and he is, uh, uh, doing hand signals. Ooh, yes, it's going to be a while, let's play some music for the people, Arnie.
[A new song starts. We're nearly 30 minutes into the countdown before the song switches over and the news announcer starts up again.]
All right folks, we have an update! They've got eyes on the gatekeeper out walking the grounds. It appears he was attempting to retrace his steps after misplacing the key and his wallet - still no word on the key itself, please stand by for more on the wallet, as this story continues to unfold.
Still on standby as we wait for the situation in the vault to resolve, but folks, there is plenty to get the American public up to speed on in the meantime. World news stories! Breaking, breaking news from the international desk. Peace negotiations between America and her adversaries crumbled in Anchorage, Alaska, this past weekend, a city recently liberated from foreign occupation, leading experts to believe nuclear war is indeed on the horizon. One more reason, America, to tune into the presentation Vault-Tec has for us today. Preparation, resilience, and smart spending are the only way our precious republic makes it through that long, dark night.
[This revelation approximates the date of the broadcast, which is happening not long after the Battle of Anchorage. The clash in Alaska officially ended on January 10, 2077: This news bulletin proves that attempted peace negotiations followed, then failed.]
Going the way of the dinosaurs has never felt this fun! If only the dinosaurs had Vault-Tec technology. Now, the dinosaurs died because... a meteor came from space, right? They had nothing to do with it. We have everything to do with our own demise. It's almost like… people are a virus that is destroying the Earth, we're a planet-killing virus. And people do say, "Oh, well, you know, well, the cockroaches... will outlive us and the the aardvarks or whatever will outlive us." Well, they won't. They're going to die too, because this is the real deal, guys. This is the end. So if you're not underground, I don't know what you're doing.
I wonder how we'll evolve. Will we develop a different kind of skin, some kind of leathery, plastic skin to fight off the nuclear fire? Who knows, but the only way to find out is to purchase a Vault-Tec vault, or a space in one of our timeshares.
[Music break again. It's a rather lively waltz.]
For those gathered around their Radiation King TV sets today, thank you for your patience. Rome wasn't built in a day!
[laughter]
Very soon you will witness… one of the greatest modern advances since the Virgo II moon landing - you won't want to miss this, the future of you and your future children depends on it.
[Exasperation sets in.]
Honestly, who wrote this copy?
[Arnold presumably raises his hand.]
You did, Arnold? Well, that's not surprising. It leaves… yes, well, it leaves a lot to be desired. They couldn't hire a professional writer? You look like you're 15 years old.
[Arnold inaudibly corrects him.]
You're 23? Yeah, well, 23-year-olds look like they're 15 now, still too young. What could you know about the - what could you possibly know about the written word, Arnold? Goddamn it. What could you - what do you know about writing and oratory? Nothing, I'll answer y- for you, nothing. The lack of professionalism - myself not included - disgusts me. The lack of professionalism disgusts me, Arnold!
Speaking of nuclear fire, you should see the muffin tray they left out for me. People want a blueberry mu- you want a muffin, okay? A muffin. Not a little squirt of dough, with a little powdered su- give me a muffin, give me a real thing, okay? Give me some snacks! You're going to give me some coffee? Good. I need a snack, to balance it. I'm not the only person in the world who needs a little bit of fat in their stomach when they eat a... big haul of caffeine.
[throat clearing]
Stand by as we wait for the situation in the vault to resolve.
[The music does some flourishes, then finishes.]
Ladies and gentlemen, it's official: We're experiencing some technical difficulties. And before we can open the vault - Vault 33, our flagship vault, full of the, uh, finest luxury items available to mankind, a- as of now - maybe we could put something on to keep people company while we figure out the technical difficulties. Sorry, these difficulties of course have nothing to do with Vault-Tec's vault tech. In- in- indeed…
Look, I need to have a whole cigarette right now. Just put on the song. Where are my smokes?
[The music starts up again while the announcer burns through a cigarette at the speed of a Corvega.]
Well, well, well! Here we are again! Ladies and gentlemen, we're dealing with a hiccup. Now, hiccups... might seem like a momentary stoppage, but this is a big hiccup. It's like God is hiccuping.
Vault-Tec is reporting that there's only one gatekeeper and one key on this vault model. The keys for these vaults are one of one, it fits like a glove, but it's - it's - these - these locks are very, very complicated.
God, it's so good to be on the other side of this. I don't think people know. People really don't know what's coming, and that's probably good. If you haven't watched… if you haven't watched the news up to this point, don't pick it up. Don't… just try and stay ignorant, uh, really don't find out what's going to happen because… it's bad, um, it's over.
[laughter]
The Earth is a slaughterhouse, and we are cattle!
[laughter]
We- we'll go back into, uh, a society resembling Bronze Age Mesopotamia. That's where we're going. It's not fun. Um... disease is… really prominent, um… we don't treat women well - let's just face it, it's - they - we don't treat them well now, but back then… oof. Rough. Rough treatment of women. You think we're racist now?
It's going to get bad. Where you want to be is underground. Vault-Tec vaults.
[A really tinny muted trumpet rises to its occasion as he disappears again for a bit.]
You know what else is great about Vault-Tec vaults? The air purification system. Let's talk about air. You need air to breathe, I need air to breathe, we need air to breathe. Vault-Tec's got it in spades! We've got oxygen candles straight from our finest nuclear submarines that you can burn, that turn nitrogen and carbon dioxide into oxygen molecules. Perfectly breathable, perfectly safe for your children, and your children's children, and your children's children's children in case we're there for three sweaty generations of sweaty living underground! In a fresh vault!
In fact, we put a family in a vault for 10 years and let them out just to see how it would go… and here they are now! "We loved it, uh… We loved it! That was great!" Uh… that's - I'm making it up! I'm making that up. I am imagining what could happen if I had more information about the vaults, but I don't have that information, so I'm making it up! Ha! Vault-Tec vaults, yes. Say yes to the tech!
[The music saves us for a bit.]
Unfortunately, we are back, the vault hasn't opened, and we have had absolutely no movement towards the vault opening, so! Hope you enjoyed that music. I know I was tapping my feet. Let's get back into it, where are we?
The US government has been quietly testing T-60 power armor suits as part of their long-standing defense contract with West Tek, following up the T-45 and T-51 efforts in the ongoing war with the People's Liberation Army.
[hisses through teeth]
How about that? How about that. The Man from Deadhorse gallops to a fast start at the box office! The Howard-led western is said to be the next smash for California Crest Studios.
[So the ghoul's name is probably Howard Something, or Something Howard. Interesting, but the announcer doesn't care and decides to throw another tantrum.]
Am I crazy or is this taking forever? I don't think I'm crazy, but I feel crazy! In fact, I might be the only person involved in this whole production who hasn't lost his mind! I'm looking at you, Arnie, I'm looking at you!
[Looking at Arnie yields nothing, again.]
"You don't know what to do, you don't know what to do." You idiot! I can't even get the word- I can't even get the information from you. Worthless!
[grunt of rage]
It's just me and Arnie here, I'm in hell, he's sitting there smiling at me, I'm in absolute hell!
Do you have a spot, Arnie? Do you have a spot in a vault? Oh! You do! What vault is that?
[long pause]
Oh, that's the one I'm in. Oh. Dear God.
[deep breath]
I guess we should get to know each other.
Ladies and gentlemen, we don't even know what's wrong here… but I can assure you that what isn't wrong is Vault-Tec technology, this has nothing to do with Vault-Tec's patented lock technology and everything to do with stupid people and human error. If you're this inefficient at work, what is home li- do - how do you wipe yourself?
[Uncalled-for, news announcer man.]
Ladies and gentlemen, please enjoy this music while we figure out what's going on.
[Musical break number who knows. Just over 11 minutes remain on the countdown.]
In other sponsored news, Nuka-Cola is celebrating the success of one of their newest flavor launches, Nuka-Cola Victory, with an exclusive redesign release later next year. Students that read over 10,000 books can be part of the ZAP IT! Program, rewarding literacy with sugar!
[deep breath]
I don't like Nuka-Cola. Personally... I don't like Nuka-Cola. Too sweet. I don't drink it. But it's popular, I have stocks in it, I invest - I invest in it. I don't drink it. It's the way the world is. Just because it's popular, doesn't mean it's good, just because it's good, doesn't mean it's popular. A can of Nuka-Cola, what is that, it's energy slowed down, right? It's the energy of the universe slowed down, right? What are we, what am I? We are energy slowed down into the form of a human being. All that's about to stop.
[laughter]
All that's about to stop! All that's about to go away! Maybe there's life on other planets. Maybe there's not. Are they going to come save us, no! If I were on another planet, and I came here, I would have an endless belly laugh at our folly, I mean, the folly of man! It's funny, there's so much written about the "folly of man." I mean, read Moby-Dick. Read… uh… what di- what happened with the - the wax wings, the wax wing guy? Wax wing man, Mr. Wax Wings, Daedalus. What's his name?
[Arnold hazards a guess we can hear: "Shakespeare?"]
Arnold, Shakespeare? Arnold, Arnold, good god… Shakespeare? Where did you go - you went to one of these hippie schools...
[Arnold tries again: "I think it was Icarus?" The announcer is ecstatic.]
Icarus! Icarus. Wow! You are good for something. Wow, Arnie!
Now, Icarus, he was close to the sun. In a Vault-Tec vault, you'll be as far from it as possible. You will be up to 50 feet underground, in a Vault-Tec vault, safe and sound in the knowledge that the wax on your wings will not be anywhere close to anything that will make it melt, except our new Vault-Tec oven!
[The horns come in again.]
Where are you f- what's your family situation? Do you have kids or…
[Arnold probably shakes his head.]
No kids? Good for you.
[laughter]
Are you single?
[Arnold: "Yeah."]
Ahh, yeah. I wouldn't recommend going into a vault single. You might want to lock someone down and take you in there - if only to help you fight - and, uh, survive, it's good to have a partner. Yeah… oof!
Anyway, glad I'm safe and secure in my vault! Um… I'm in the tax bracket that kind of... automatically gets a vault, so, sorry everybody. Uh… I'll be, uh, doing this thing called surviving, while you are all burning.
[deep breath]
What's the point of any of this? What's the point of any of this? Nobody - nobody listening to this can afford one of these things. Everybody listening to this is about to turn into an idea!
[laughter]
Instead of a being! But, here we are! Let's whoop it up! Let's whoop it up! It's a big parade… for the end of mankind! It's a big parade! Here's the final celebration, Arnie! Here we are!
Let's stake our claim in a dying planet! Let's plant our flag in a dead rock, and see how we feel. Let's see how we feel after the flag is planted, Arnie.
[a deep sigh]
I don't know how much longer I can do this, man.
[another deep breath]
My voice hurts, I'm thirsty, we're out of water, the muffins they laid out at the top of the day are dry and old, I feel dry and I feel old.
I give up! I give up.
[chuckles]
What's the point of this? I mean, what's the point of anything? I'm... I'm broken.
[Emotion creeps in.]
I'm broken. I'm changed. I am broken and I have changed. I…
[one more deep breath]
Thanks to you, Arnie. Thanks to you, man. Thanks, you're the best, yeah, thanks to you, pal. Thanks to you, buddy boy. You are just awful. You disgust me. Yeah, I'm just - I'm sorry. I'm - I'm just… I'm fried, man. I'm - I'm fried, pal. I'm fried. Dead. Gravestone, dead. Oh yeah, that's, okay.
Oh, god. Where are we in the process of the door opening?
[Arnold: "Yeah, it's over."]
What?
[A record scratch stops the music. Two minutes remain on the countdown.]
What's that? Oh!
[The announcer clears his throat, and the music changes to a triumphant fanfare.]
Ladies and gentlemen, I'm getting word. Ladies and gentlemen... I've gotten word that we are star- we are starting, ladies and gentlemen. It's happening! Here we are! Here we are, we got it, we got it, and now…
N- and now, this afternoon is unlike any other afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. It was the morning, now it's the afternoon - here we go! The crane is loweri- Here we go!
[relieved laughter]
Okay! Really close to the time where I can go, and get out of here! The crane is lowering, it is happening, the tumblers are tumbling! The crane is lowering, the tumblers are tumbling, we are… go! We're going! It's opening! It's opening!
[The static image of the vault has not changed in the slightest bit.]
You try doing this! You try doing this, Arnie! You try filling the time! Next time we'll switch places, Arnie, and you can try it! Oh boy, oh boy, here we go, thank god we're doing it and it's happening. I see motion, I see- I see Vault-Tec… I am convinced! Guys, this is great, it's been great, Arnie? It's been great. Arnie, it's been great. You know, I hope we are in the same vault. I'd like to spend the rest of my life with you, Arnie.
[slightly unhinged laughter]
As long as this happens right now, I am fine with spending the rest of my life with you! As long as the vault opens right now. The fact that nuclear fire could fall from the sky at any moment has made this broadcast that much more important. Thank you, thank you so much for joining us!
329 notes · View notes
strangemaleswaps · 4 months
Text
Strange Christmas Family Swap
Christmas is supposed to be the time of year where you celebrate joy with your family and loved ones. But everyone has that one family member no one looks forward to seeing, and I’m no different. For me that person would be my grandpa. He'd always been a really cranky guy who, I swear, could find something to complain about on literally any topic. I don't know why he even comes over for the holidays in the first place. Maybe he's just lonely? At least my siblings are coming home. They're all older than me and left for college years ago. Sometimes I felt like I was behind everyone just because I was the youngest, but they always tell me to enjoy being young while it lasted. At least I still had my dog, Lucy, to keep me company. 
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“Shoot. Ferris, we forgot to buy your grandpa a present,” my mom mentioned while preparing dinner for Christmas Eve.
“Does it matter? He's not gonna like anything anyway.”
“Yes I know. But it's Christmas. The time of year where you need to treat even those you dislike well. Could you quickly go to that gift shop and buy some cheap ornament?”
“Mom, it's Christmas Eve! Half these places are closed or closing soon.” She looked up a store on her phone and showed me that it closed at 5. It was 4:38.
“There's that one hallmark store within walking distance still open. You can make it in time! I just don't want to cause a scene.” I wanted to take the car, but it would take too long to shovel all the snow, so I walked. The store wasn't that far by foot, but it was still an awful time in the freezing cold. When I arrived, there was a single employee at the counter - an old lady with a messy bun. She greeted me and asked what I needed.
“I have just the thing.” She walked over to the shelf and showed me a little Santa ornament that was wearing a galaxy pattern suit instead of the regular red. It was actually a pretty good gift because my grandpa loved outer space, not to mention he kinda looked like Santa anyway, just without the beard.
“This is perfect.”
“Then why do you look sad?” Her response caught me by surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I can tell something’s wrong. It's Christmas Eve. You should be happy!”
“That's probably easy for others. But for me, Christmas means family time and I don't exactly like someone in my family.
“That's a shame. You're lucky to have a family at least.” She looked down at the floor sadly. It was clear what she meant by that.
“But since you still have people in your life I'd like to help you with your problem. Could I have that ornament back please?” I assumed she was about to check me out so I started reaching for my wallet, when she walked into the backroom with the present instead. As soon as the door closed, the power suddenly went out and I was in pure darkness until there was a weird purple glow coming from the door. All of this only lasted about 10 seconds and the power came back on as if nothing happened. Did I just imagine that whole thing? It was weird. The woman walked back out with a big smile on her face.
“Did the power go out or something? And what happened in there?”
“Oh nothing,” she said with a grin. “Merry Christmas!”
“Yeah, Merry Christmas. I guess.” She checked me out and I was on my way back home.
When I arrived, my siblings were already there, as well as my grandpa.
“Hey! It's Ferris!” said my oldest brother Calvin. He had definitely gained a lot of weight since I last saw him, even though he was an athlete in college. Looks like he still refused to shave the messy beard he started last year. My older sibling Sam grinned at me. They looked exactly as they always did - expressing their love of anime with a nerdy t-shirt and wearing ear gauges that have gotten bigger since the last time I saw them. My sister Em walked up to hug me. She was always the one I was closest with, since she was only 2 years older than me.
“I got a present for Grandpa.” He suddenly looked at me, and then to the bag I was holding.
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“It's about time you buy me something! Lemme see.”
“Well not until Christmas.” Despite living to see many Christmases, Grandpa was still an extremely impatient person. He'd actually opened up his Christmas presents early before because he just couldn't stand the wait. This was my first time buying one myself for him (even though it was really just my mom sending me) so I guess he was beyond curious.
“Come on. It's basically Christmas anyway.” He got his large ass out of the seat and approached me. He was wearing a tucked in blue plaid shirt that covered the gut hanging over his pants. He stumbled over to me until we were face to face. I could smell the cigarette smoke on his breath, almost making my eyes water.
“Boy, give me the gift.”
“Dad, just wait until Christmas. You're gonna spoil the surprise.” My mom thankfully defended me and started walking over.
“Fine, but I-” He faked content and snatched the bag from me.
“Dad! Enough!” My mom shouted but it was too late. He had taken the ornament out of the bag, but clumsily dropped it. It shattered all over the floor before he even had a chance to react.
“Oh man.” Sam gulped.
“Now look at what you've done! You ruined my present!” Grandpa yelled in my face.
“Dad! Dad! Calm down. I think you need to go to bed now.”
“Fine! But only because your idiot son ruined my Christmas!” My mom escorted him to the guest room and Em picked up a broom. We both swept together as my mom walked back into the kitchen.
“Could he possibly be more…you know…” I started.
“Horrible? Pathetic?” Calvin added.
“Gross? Nasty?” Sam added.
“Your grandfather is just lonely really. His parents - my grandparents - let him do whatever he wanted. He's a real spoiled man. But I don't think there's any changing him now so let's just endure the day tomorrow and you won't have to see him for a while. Got it?”
“Fine.” The rest of the night was much better and I had a great time with my family. Calvin scarfed down the food so fast he almost choked, Em told me all about what college was like, Sam bragged about his new gauges, and Lucy practically flew under the table as soon as my mom dropped a piece of ham.
When it was time for bed, my siblings got settled into their rooms - Calvin and Sam sharing the same bedroom they did growing up, and Em sleeping in the basement because her old room was turned into an office. I looked at the Christmas tree glimmering with lights and decorations, excited to see what the presents underneath it would look like in the morning. It's a shame that Grandpa's present broke and we had to throw it away, but I guess he got what he deserved for being such a dick. I headed into my bed, where Lucy was already snuggled up in, and nestled up under the covers.
The next morning I woke up to the sounds of shouting, which was unfitting for what was supposed to be a peaceful Christmas morning. It was coming from the room next to me and sounded like my brothers, which was weird because my room was across the hall from them. But it sounded so close. I started getting up, to see what was going on, but when I looked around, I realized I actually was in the guest room
How did I get in here? I gazed down to find my stomach seemed swollen in my white tank top. I lifted it up and to my horror, I realized my slim chest was replaced with a flabby belly! How did I get so fat? I know I ate alot last night but this was ridiculous! The gut flopped out, to a bit over my waist. It felt weird knowing a part of my body was just hanging there. I noticed a bit of chest hair, which was foreign to me, but when I noticed they were gray hairs, it finally hit me. I was a fat old guy in the guest room. I somehow switched bodies with my grandpa!
I heard the voices leave the room so I stumbled over to the door, not quite used to the shift in weight compared to my old twink body, and was about to put my hand on the doorknob when I saw someone looking at me in the mirror. I turned my head to find that it was my grandpa…I mean me…staring back.
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I really did look disgusting, not just because of my looks, but because I now had the face of an impatient jerk. I tried doing different facial expressions; it looked weird because I rarely had ever seen my grandpa smile at all. I noticed that I couldn't see my own dick past the belly, not that I would want to. It was probably all wrinkly and gross! What was I going to do? I opened the door to find Calvin walking to the living room. He looked pretty concerned, which was unusual for the carefree personality he usually had.
“Hey uh..Grandpa?” Fuck. Looks like I'm not imagining it after all. I hated this. “Sorry for the noise, it's just that…”
“I'm not even gonna try to pretend.” I spoke, but my voice came out gravelly and deep. It scared me a little bit. “I'm Ferris, not Grandpa. I don't know how it happened! I just-”
“Shit! That's great! I mean not because you're Grandpa now. But because I'm not alone! I'm actually Sam.”
“Sam?” It was actually kinda funny, Sam and Calvin switching bodies. They were close but still completely different people. I couldn't contain my laughter and started giggling, even though it came out as my Grandpa's gruff wheezes.
“Oh sure. I'M the funny one when Mister-wheeze-a-lot can't laugh without sounding like he's dying.”
“Hey! Well Mister-” I stopped myself trying to continue the joke. “Wait, how does that work?”
“The gender is all up to the person. Sure the…” they stared down at the new extra pounds they now carried and shook their belly. “...expression might be different, at least at the moment, but I'm still me. BUT the idiot who looks like me doesn't seem to understand.” As if on cue, Calvin in Sam's body appeared, walking in a macho way, something that Sam would never do.
“Check it out Grandpa! I'm an enby!” Sam gave a huge facepalm.
“Calvin my sweet brother, We. Have. Been. Over. This.”
“Hey whatever. I think it's cool. My face feels so empty though. Maybe I'll start growing a bea-” Sam cut him off right there.
“If you go out there without a clean shaven face, I'm shaving YOUR beard.”
“God no please. It took me like a year to grow that!” Calvin pleaded.
“Hey hey, what about me?!” I interrupted their arguing.
“Oh yeah,” Sam started. “That's not Grandpa. It's Ferris.”
“Oh man Ferris. You're a fucking old dude now!” exclaimed Calvin. He then poked my new belly. “Welcome to the chub club! Well…” He glaced down at Sam's slim figure. “My membership is on hold for now.”
Just then we heard a scream coming from my mom's room. We quickly opened the door, already knowing what happened. We found my mom staring at the mirror with a look of pure horror on her face.
“It's ok Em, we're all body swapped too.” She seemed to calm down when she realized that she wasn't alone in all this.
“Weird case of Freaky Friday here. Especially with Em….and Mom,” added Calvin. Just then my mom, in Em's body, walked in to join in the confusion.
“Well this is awkward. Two of my kids in each other's bodies, my own son in my dad's and I'm in my own daughter's body. Could this Christmas get any crazier?”
“Where's Grandpa?”
“Probably still sleeping.”
We headed over to my room, expecting him to still be asleep, only to find him flexing in the mirror - in my body. I didn't actually have any real muscles, being a skinny twink, so he didn't really have anything to flex. That didn't stop him from admiring himself. When he noticed us, he walked over smiling. It was a creepy sight, not only to see my body move on its own, but also knowing it's my grandpa inside there smiling.
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“Hello everyone. It's good to be young again!”
“Uh hey Grandpa.” He looked right at me. “No, no! Call me Boris! YOU'RE the grandpa now!”
I felt so humiliated. He was actually…cool…in my body! And I was just the fat old guy that nobody liked!
“Dad, we need to figure out what happened so you can become your old self again. Ok?”
“Hell no! I'm young again for the first time in years. No way I'm giving away this opportunity!”
“I got it!” Em suddenly exclaimed. We all turned around wondering what she meant. She showed us her phone - or rather my mom's phone.
“What?”
“How we all swapped bodies! That ornament that Ferris got! There's an ancient artifact that can take on different appearances. It says it's been known to cause mischief when broken.”
“What kind of ancient thing is meant to be broken? How has it lasted this long then?”
“That's the thing. Everytime it breaks, it finds a new place and takes on a new appearance. But it always takes on the appearance of an object that its next victim will need.”
“Shit. And that's why the present seemed perfect for Grandpa.”
“Hey! I got a much better gift than any of you!” cheered my grandpa as he flexed his arms once agaih.
“But…how do we find it again?”
“Y-you don't. Unless you want to search the whole world for something you don't even know what it looks like.”
There was a deafening silence after she spoke those words. We all realized the truth was that we would never return to our old bodies. I was stuck as an old man forever!
“Hey, it's not so bad,” my grandpa started, seemingly reading my mind. He leaned over and lifted up my shirt, exposing my gut, and slapped it. “The belly is pretty comfy after all. You'll love it.” Maybe he was right. I'm sure I could make the silver bear look work. As I thought about that, I noticed a bulge starting to form. Grandpa turned to look at everyone with a huge smile on his face.
“Merry Christmas everyone!”
142 notes · View notes
codfanficedits · 4 months
Text
Christmas Troubles.
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley & Reader
Summary: Reader doesn't like christmas too.
Wordcount: 3844 | Rating: E! (18+ only!)
Warnings: talk about flashbacks regarding childabuse and child neglect.
A/N:
I have thought about not posting this, as this fic describes childabuse, however, I write to cope, so I decided to post anyway
If you are struggling at home too, know that there is a way out, and things will get better, the cycle can be broken, no matter how hard it is.
Give yourself the kindness your parents couldn't give you.
Merry Christmas to all the children, no matter how old, whose life will always be marked by their parents.
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Very merry Christmas.
You’ve always loved Christmas, the subtle decoration on base, never a whole Christmas tree, but a few Christmas ornaments taped to someone’s door, a few tinsels draped around in the mess hall, a Santa hat being pulled over someone’s helmet.
But most of all, it’s the changing atmosphere. The weight of the war no longer weighing soldiers down fully. Excited faces when they all realize they get to go home for the holidays. Longing for their wives, their husband, their kids, family. For a brief moment all they are is human. Humans longing for the connection they have with those around them.
When the days come closer, the base gets more and more empty. More and more excited voices when they can finally go back to the people they loved.
You spot a piece of crumbled up wrapping paper, and suddenly you’re no longer the soldier you are today. You’re five years old and your ear is ringing from the slap you’ve received from your father, the skin feeling hot and you already know it’s turning red. It’s boxing day, and your reaction wasn’t happy enough. But you’re five, socks aren’t really your thing yet and you don’t understand why Santa would give you such a thing while you asked for a new stuffed animal.
You’re five and your father drags you up the stairs by your collar, screaming at you that ungrateful children will get nothing. And you’re ungrateful. You try not to be, you try to be a good kid, but it just happened without your control. You spent the rest of the day alone in your room, the few toys you own keeping you company, your own imagination being the escape you need.
Your eyes shift to your lieutenant. For the past two years you’ve spent Christmas on the base you share. No interaction, no words, nothing. But you know something haunts him around Christmas too. But it is not up to you to mingle around in old wounds. If he wants to tell you, he should do it himself. All you know is that the feeling of loneliness and grief hangs around him. Your own grief and loneliness dancing around his whenever your eyes meet, but the dance is brief, as if both of you are too scared to admit it.
When you moved out of your childhood home and joined the army, you made yourself the promise you’d do it different. You would never become like your parents. So the first time you could buy yourself the gifts you really wanted, you cried. Cried as you never had before, because being raised by cold eyes taught you not to cry. You held the stuffed animal you had gotten yourself close to your chest. You couldn’t celebrate Christmas that year, every little thing reminding you of the Christmases you had deserved in your childhood. Leaving you sobbing in your bed while your partner stroked your hair, understanding the pain that came with your childhood.
Next to the crumbled up wrapping paper is a Christmas ornament, and you pick it up. You stare at the Christmas ornament in your hand, and all of the sudden you’re no longer the soldier you are today. You’re seven years old, hiding on the top of the stairs while you can hear your parents argue. Your mother had decorated the Christmas tree wrong, and your father is fuming. You’re too young to understand what the problem is, why couldn’t they just decorate the tree again? You hold the stuffed animal you sleep with close to your heart, as if the toy is supposed to protect you against your fathers rage. The sounds of breaking glass no longer scares you, instead it is a sign for you to leave the top of the stairs and hide into bed. You know the drill, you know the routine. Like clockwork your mother barges into your room, demanding you get up and pack a bag, she is leaving your father and you’re coming with her. You’re seven, your biggest prized possession is your stuffed animal and a few books, so you pack it in a little suitcase, dragging it along down the stairs, while your father refuses to look at you, grumbling about the now bare Christmas tree.
You’re seven and our mother drags you along to the nearby park, it’s cold, you’re wearing your pyjama’s and a jacket, but it’s not enough to protect you against the cold, harsh December wind. Your mother smokes her cigarette, ranting towards you how horrible your father is. You know better than to agree with her, everything you say can and will be used against you, so you do what you do best, you stare at the grass beneath you.
Your hands begin to tremble when you’re no longer seven, but the hardened soldier you are today, the Christmas ornament snapping in your hands. You can hear the whispers, whispers about your hate for Christmas, your hate for the holidays, and those are the reasons your teammates believe to be the reasons why you prefer to stay on base.
But in reality you have no one to come home to. It used to be different. Your partner loved Christmas just as much as you did. Urging you to buy those little gifts for yourself, decorating the house with you, decorating the Christmas tree together.
Hell, the two of you even made your own little traditions. Sweet little dinners together by the soft candlelight, personal gifts the two of you had bought weeks before, just for the two of you, it was something that would keep you alive during the whole year, those two days were enough to fuel you, to heal the broken and wounded child you kept in your heart.
But your childhood taught you that all the good things must come to an end. And how could you blame them? You came with a suitcase full of childhood trauma, and your partner had no longer the strength to carry that suitcase with you. Leaving you alone on your base during Christmas once again.
As you sit inside the mess hall, next to your teammates, you can hear Gaz talking about his mother, how much he loves her, and much she is going to love her gift. Proudly he tells his team, and that includes you, that he got her a getaway to see the northern lights. Something she’d wanted for years, and now he could finally give it to her, a payback for how much she had loved him when he was growing up.
And you can’t help but feel that familiar pit in your stomach again, but you’re a hardened soldier, so your eyes don’t show the war within you. Because you love your mother, she is your mother after all, and that is what you are supposed to do. But you hate her at the same time. You hate her when you walk in on her emptying your piggybank, because she needs to smoke and your father doesn’t give her the money anymore. You hate her, when you overhear her complain about her children, and how they’re the reason why her marriage is failing. But the child inside of you wants to love her so desperate. It wants to cling on to the illusion of having a mother.
Brown eyes meet yours, and that same short dance happens between you and Ghost. Your soul leads while his tries to keep you at a distance. No longer than three seconds before he looks away, his attention on Gaz again. A comment about how lovely this gift to his mother is. A joke about Ghost hating Christmas. Loud laughter.
When you’re alone in your barracks, you stare at the wall. The burden of Christmas is weighing you down, it is drowning you, but you’re a hardened soldier, so you can’t let anyone in. You’re so afraid of losing something or someone you love, that you refuse to love anything again, including yourself. And you can’t treat something you don’t love in a kind way, so you shut everything and everyone out, while your heart is sick and tired of the loneliness you bring it.
A loud knock on your door. Gaz.
“Hey. I’m leaving for Christmas.”
“I know. Have fun.” A fake smile plastered on your face, you’ve mastered the skill of putting up that damn wall.
“Thanks. Take care of Ghost, yeah? Christmas isn’t really the time of year that makes him happy.” But how can you take care of Ghost when you can’t even take care of yourself? And who will take care of you while you drown?
“Will do.”
“Thanks.”
“Oh and Gaz?”
“Hm?”
“It really is a lovely gift for your mother.” The smile on your face warms up to be a real one, you mean it, even when the little child inside of you is screaming at you, because what did it do wrong to deserve such treatment?
The excitement on his face is endearing, a bright smile and sparkling eyes when you mention his mother. God is that how you’re supposed to look when someone mentions her? All you can see while you look in the mirror and think of her, are your fathers eyes staring right back at you. It isn’t your fault that you have your fathers eyes, yet you hate yourself for it, because how can you be something you’re not when you look like him.
“I’ll let you know how she likes it!” And with those words Gaz leaves you alone, a spring in his step when he realizes that this family is within arm’s reach, the burden of being a soldier being left behind on your base.
You stare at the open door, not having the strength yet to get up and close it.
Brown eyes meeting yours as Ghost walks past your door. Your soul wanting to reach out to dance with his again. “Can take care of myself during Christmas.” He grumbles, as he had overheard your conversation with Gaz. Your soul backs off, taking a blow, making you feel unwanted. A short nod and he is on his way again, that lonely feeling taking over again.
And suddenly you’re twelve, and you’re dreading to go to school, because you don’t fit in. Your father had implemented a new rule. Showers were only allowed to be taken twice a week, a horrible combination considering you’re a teenager, your body needs to be cleansed every day, but he is unrelenting. Your body is burning with the shame of not belonging. Your classmates are quick to realise what is going on, the bullying is relentless, a never ending torture that continues the moment you arrive home. No safe haven on earth. You’re old enough to realize this isn’t normal, this isn’t the way normal people live.
And now you’re a hardened soldier, and you’re angry. Of course you’re angry. Because there had been so many opportunities where someone should have helped you, but never did.
Soap visits you the next day, because he too has a family to come home to. Something you’ve been craving ever since God has put you on this earth, you’re tired of longing for something that has not been written in your stars, but you’ve had a taste of it, and now you keep chasing a taste you can no longer remember, all you know is that you need it, the feeling of loving, of belonging, of being wanted. Soap is one of the last to leave, some soldiers leave together, because they too have no family to come home to, but they have each other. Because friends count as family too when Christmas is around the corner. Not for you, never for you.
“Oi.” The Scottish accent snaps you out of it. “You’re leaving?”
“Yeah. Won’t be home until new year’s.”
“Aight. Have fun, and please don’t blow up your neighbourhood with firework.”
A small smirk tugs around his lips after your remark. “Can’t promise a thing. But if Price asks, you tell him I’ll be on my best behaviour.”
Two arms around you when he pulls you in for a short hug. The smallest amount of affection brings a lump to your throat, and you need a few tries before you can swallow it down.
“Keep an eye out for Ghost, will ya?” His request is paired with his arms leaving you again, the loneliness seeping back into your pores, infecting your veins, reaching your brain.
“I will, if he lets me.”
“Aye, don’t take it personal.”
Every form of rejection is personal, no matter who it comes from.
“Sure, sure, sure.” It’s a mere mutter, you can’t even keep an eye out for yourself, how could you keep an eye out for Ghost? But you worry that if you admit you’re not up for the task, you won’t be needed anymore. Because what is your worth if you can’t be of service?
A rough hand ruffles your hair. “Take care, kid.”
“You too, Soap.”
Another one leaves.
Base is becoming more and more deserted, and the less distracting you have, the easier it is for the memories to seep to the cracks of the walls you’ve build to protect yourself, because trauma sends you letters, without warning for the rest of your life, usually disguised as something else.
You overhear a conversation about a Christmas dinner. And suddenly you’re eight again, your legs aren’t reaching the ground as you sit on the dining room chair, your gaze is fixed on your plate. Your parents are arguing about dinner, your mother under seasoned it, your father tried to fix it and now it’s a blend of flavours that do not mix together, and somehow it is your fault, because you dared to breath near them. Fear takes over your being when the cabinets in the kitchen get slammed shut, the loud footsteps coming closer. You flinch when he walks past you.
Mistake.
Because flinching means that you acknowledge that your father abuses you, and he doesn’t. He keeps telling you that and what your father says goes. He can’t be abusing you, because there are children in the world who have it worse, and you have a roof to live under, you are fed, what more can a child want? You are not abused, because the bruises are placed on spots on your body that no one sees, because the screaming, the name calling, the humiliating marks your brain, but never your body, because everyone can ignore your shoes, who are two sizes too small, your clothes being either too large or too small, there is no in between. You cannot be abused, because you still love your parents. And if you aren’t fed love from a silver spoon, you learn to lick it from knives.
A large hand grabs your hair, yanking it back. The chair you’re sitting on protests against the sudden movement.
You ruined Christmas dinner, and the both of them make sure that you know it. When you’re dragged to the stairs again, and you endure his punishment, your mind goes blank. You went to visit a friend from school, and her mother didn’t yell, didn’t scream, didn’t call her names, and you cried in their bathroom, because this woman radiated a warmth you didn’t know you were craving. As you lay in bed, you can feel his feet stomping on your body again. The marks he left are a reminder that you were the one who ruined Christmas, again.
The feeling of being watched snaps you out of it, and as the trained soldier that you are, is the first thing you do controlling your breathing, your chest heaving just a little less when you finally look up.
His brown eyes meeting yours once more, and your soul doesn’t dare to reach out to his again. You can see the walls that he has put up, because they have the same structure as yours. If only he would allow you to seep through the small cracks between the stones. But he doesn’t, because Ghost too remembers his childhood as a long wish to be elsewhere.
 You shift your eyes away again. Not ready to face him, not ready to see a glimpse of his childhood in his eyes. No, you wish to forget, to drown your demons with something that will kill them, to make sure that they will never come back. But you can’t, every attempt only resulted in them coming back harder, stronger. But you can try, right? So you find yourself on the floor of your room, a bottle of vodka next to you. You had been drinking too much, too quick, and now your body feels paralysed while snippets of your youth creep in again, and there is nothing you can do against it. You want to push the memories away, bury them in the dirt, a skill you had managed to master, yet you seem to have lost completely.
The familiar feeling of a burn starts in your throat and you make an attempt to crawl to the bathroom, barely reaching the toilet. A wave of sour vomit leaves your lips, it splatters against the porcelain of the toilet bowl, staining the floor, and it brings a panic to your chest.
You’re nine, and you have a stomach flu, being woken up with the horrible urge to vomit. You try to run to the bathroom, your little legs carrying you as fast as they can.
But you don’t make it, instead you drop to your hands and knees and you can’t stop the waves coming out of you. You feel like you can’t breathe, and you’re afraid you’ll die, suffocated by your own vomit. Your father wakes up from the noise, and instead of a compassionate rubbing of your back, you’re met with a scowl on his face. His hands gripping the back of your neck. You try to mutter that you’re sorry, but before you can speak he presses your face on the floor, dragging you across your own vomit, the same way they used to drag dogs through their own urine in an attempt to housetrain them.
The alcohol in your blood makes you unable to supress your memories, and you find yourself sobbing on the floor, muttering that you’re sorry again and again. You flinch when an unknown man enters your bathroom, his large frame looming over you. You hold up your hands against your face, apologizing over and over again.
“Fuck, you’re a mess.” You recognize the voice, but you can’t remember if it is your father’s or someone else’s. You begin to cry harder when a hand grips your wrist, trying to pull you up.
“ ‘s okay. ‘s okay.” You hear the same voice mutter, before a damp washcloth is dabbed against your face, an attempt to clean you up. You’re pulled against a broad chest, your mind still way too fuzzy to comprehend who it is.
“I promise it won’t happen again dad, I’m so sorry.” You’re slurring your words, and you don’t notice the breath of the person holding you hitching in his throat.
“Let’s get you to bed, ‘kay?” He mutters as he gently yet firmly guides you to your bed, making sure that you’re tucked in under your covers before he goes to place a bucket next to your bed. Not that you notice. You’re drifting off to an empty sleep.
When you wake up the next morning your head is pounding and you let out an annoyed groan when you wake up. You automatically rub your temples in an attempt to make the pain pass a little. “There’s water and painkillers on your nightstand.” A gruff voice tells you and your eyes snap open, only to see Ghost sitting down on the chair in the corner of your room, his jacket put over him as a blanket.
“Dear God.” You groan as you spot him, so much for taking care of him. “How long have you been here?”
“Long enough to know your father is an asshole.” His words make your blood run cold, you always had tried to keep your past, the abuse, a secret. You try to swallow the lump in your throat. “How much do you know?”
“You didn’t say what happened, but from the way you apologized and flinched.” Ghost shrugged after his words. “I know what it means.”
Is that his soul reaching out to yours? Is this his invite into your life?
“Does it get better?” You ask, scared for the answer.
“Not without hard work.” He answers you. “Have you tried therapy?”
“Have you?” You shoot back, not wanting to admit you haven’t.
“I have.” He chuckled. “It wasn’t easy, but once I was done after nearly two years. Shit that felt amazing.”
You scoff, not fully convinced. “And what did you get out of it?”
He looks at you, his brown eyes piercing your soul. “I can look at myself in the mirror, and I no longer see my father. You deserve that too.”
You want to stop the tears, you really do, but his words hit the right spots. You turn around in your bed, your back facing him as you curl yourself into a little ball.
Your bed protests when he comes to sit on the edge, his fingers running through your hair. “Listen.” He lets out a sigh. “I’m not here to scold you, but the team has been telling you that you need to look out for me, and while I think that it is bullshit, it is a nice gesture. But do you know why they asked you?”
You don’t respond, instead you stare to the wall, tears rolling down your cheeks.
Ghost decided to continue anyway. “They asked you, because I told them about my past, not much, no details, just enough to let them in, to let them understand certain behaviour. And I’m not telling you, you should do the same, but think about it. Maybe it’ll help.”
His words did make sense, you knew you had to do something, knowing that you couldn’t keep on going with the amount of flashbacks you were having lately. “Just tell something to Price, okay?” Ghost continues. “And if you want, I can pull some strings, get you on some easier missions for the time being. And I can hook you up with my therapist. You remind me of myself, so it has been easier to avoid you. However, you deserve some happiness too and I’m sorry for avoiding you so much.”
You look up at him, through your teary eyes. “Thank you.” You manage to mutter.
“Don’t mention it.” He answers, while his fingers run through your hair again. “Christmas will become fun again, don’t let them take that from you.”
He stays silent for a second or two. “You know what, do you want to make some hot chocolate? Make our own little tradition?”
78 notes · View notes
robsheridan · 4 months
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BATTLE SANTAS trading cards were all the rage of Christmas 1988, hyping kids up for a toy line and film franchise that never came to be after Christian protesters halted production.
The cards, produced before the first film was finished, tell the story of a multiverse of cosmic Santas who arrive from across time on an array of Battle Sleighs to help Earth’s Santa save Christmas future from the forces of Hell. On Santa’s lunar battlestation workshop (where he relocated after the North Pole was ravaged in The Santa Wars), his elves built armed vehicles from old toy parts and the re-animated corpses of reindemons, the hellbeasts of the demon army unleashed on Earth after a portal to hell was opened in the North Pole when oil companies drilled near Santa's Earth Workshop (thanks to Reagan’s deregulation of protected lands).
The early release of the trading cards was meant to generate buzz for the film’s funding and toy licensing, but the plan backfired, as the cards revealed a controversial plot point: Mecha-Jesus, the Cybersavior, a towering robotic kaiju Jesus built by the Battle Santas as their last stand against Satan. Mecha-Jesus is piloted by the real Jesus, who the Battle Santas summon back to mortal form. When Christian groups heard about children trading cards that depicted Jesus eviscerating enemies with Nazareth Napalm missiles and shooting Light of the Lord laser beams from his robo-eyes while shouting “The Power of Christ compels you to DIE!” over heavy metal music, a firestorm of protests made the entire BATTLE SANTAS property toxic to investors, leaving the trading cards the only glimpse of a Christmas epic that never came to be.
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NOTE: This alternate reality story is part of my NightmAIres narrative art series (visit that link for a lot more). NightmAIres are windows into other worlds and interconnected alternate histories, conceived/written by me and visualized with synthography and Photoshop.
If you enjoy my work, consider subscribing to my free newsletter to stay up to date on my projects, or supporting me on Patreon for frequent exclusive hi-res wallpaper packs, behind-the-scenes features, downloads, events, contests, and an awesome fan community. Direct fan support is what keeps me going as an independent creator, and it means the world to me.
88 notes · View notes
minty-mumbles · 5 months
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Gingerbread
Summary: The chain has found themselves at Lon Lon Ranch in the middle of the Yule season. Sky finds Wild alone in the kitchen late one evening, and offers both company and help with the baking the champion is doing.
A/N: Secret Santa gift for @themackenziemachine
(Read on AO3 Here)
~~~
A thick layer of snow covered Lon Lon Ranch, blanketing the world in silence the way only a fresh snowfall could. Thick snowflakes still fell from the sky, quickly filling in the tracks left behind by a pair of people trudging out to the barn and then back to the house. 
Inside, things were just as quiet. Two pairs of snowy boots were left piled by the front door, quickly forming a puddle from the snow melting off them. Their owners were nowhere to be seen, already retreating up to the bedrooms on the second floor of the house. A fire burned lowly in the hearth, nothing but embers remaining after burning for hours. The evergreen boughs and springs of holly that were placed on the mantle for decoration filled the house with their scent, filling it with holiday cheer.
The only sounds in the house came from the kitchen, where a scarred boy stood alone, working at the kitchen counter. A disk of brown dough sat before him. Repetitively and methodically, he worked with his hands and a rolling pin until it turned into a thin, flat sheet of dough. 
When he was finished with that, he picked up a sharp knife but was interrupted by the sounds of someone coming down the stairs.
 It was Sky. He was lacking his outer tunic, his hair was mussed and he had clearly just come from bed. Wild turned back to what he was doing, cutting shapes into the sheet of dough.
“Wild?” Sky asked, voice soft with sleep.
Wild didn’t respond, not that Sky needed him to in order to identify the hunched-over form in the kitchen. He already knew it was the champion. He walked a bit closer, brow furrowed as he took in Wild’s appearance. “Twilight and Time just came back from making sure the animals were all taken care of. Twilight said you were still up. He was worried.”
Wild barely glanced at Sky but dismissively murmured, “I couldn't sleep.” 
Sky approached, looking at the messy counter, covered in flour and small scraps of dough. 
“What are you doing?” 
“Baking the gingerbread. I was gonna do it tomorrow but it’s chilled long enough.” Sky smiled at that. Baking had always been one of his favorite Yule traditions. ��Gingerbread” wasn’t something he was familiar with from Skyloft, but enough of the other heroes had been delighted when Wild said he would make them that Sky was looking forward to trying them all the same.
“Do you want some company?”
Wild sighed, glancing at Sky again. His eyes lingered for a second, taking in Sky’s disheveled appearance. “I’m okay, really. I didn’t have a nightmare or anything. I just couldn’t sleep. You can go back to bed. There’s no need to check on me.”
Sky smiled. “I know. I was already getting up to get a glass of water. I just don’t want you to be lonely. I like banking anyway. I usually do some with Sun every Yule, so I’m not totally incompetent.” 
Wild didn’t seem to believe that Sky truly wanted to keep him company, but didn’t have the energy to argue anymore, motioning him to wash off his hands before he touched the food. 
Many hands made light work. In no time at all, the rest of the dough had been rolled out and cut into shape, and laid out carefully on several sheet pans.
“Not bad,” Sky commented, appraising the cookies. They were all cut into the traditional gingerbread man shape. A few of them were lopsided, but they were all recognizable.
“Oh,” Wild said. “I should’ve let you cut them out. You’re the artist between the two of us, with your woodcutting.”
“You did a fine job,“ Sky assured him. ”Woodcutting doesn’t translate over into cookie cutting that well, anyway. What’s next?”
“Baking them,” Wild said absently, already opening the oven. A wave of heat blasted out, making Sky shiver. He hadn’t realized how chilly it had gotten in the house with the fire burning so low. Wild picked up one of the trays and turned to slide them into the oven. 
“How long do they have to bake?” Sky asked, looking at the rest of the trays left on the counter. He hoped they wouldn’t take not long. He was getting a bit tired, but he had promised Wild some company, so he would stay awake. It was clear the champion needed it. 
“Ten minutes,” Wild said shortly. He closed the oven door, but made no more movements, just staring straight ahead, as if lost in thought. When he didn’t move, Sky put a hand on his shoulder. Wild jumped a bit at the touch, but soon relaxed into his hand.
“Come on, let's go sit by the fire. It’s a bit chilly.” 
That stirred Wild into action, and the two of them quietly shuffled over the area in front of the fireplace. Sky added a few logs to the fireplace, sending sparks to flare up, carried on the updraft up the chimney. Wild, seemingly remembering what Sky had come downstairs for in the first place, set some milk over the fire to warm. When it was steaming, he carefully poured two cups, and grated some nutmeg on top of both of them.
Sky smiled at the sight of the expensive spice. On Skyloft, nutmeg was a luxury, only used on special occasions. From what he had gathered, it was the same in most of the other hero’s eras, but he wasn't surprised that Wild had some stored away in his slate. If there was one thing the champion didn’t hesitate to spend money on, it was good food.
“Felt like splurging a bit?” Sky asked, but all he got back was a nonchalant hum. Wild was clearly not in the mood for chatting. Nonetheless, he gratefully accepted the cup of milk. 
Sky sipped at the drink slowly, savoring the taste of the expensive spice, but he still finished his cup before Wild could. The champions seemed enthralled with the fire, gaze unwaveringly fixed on the tongues of flame that licked at the blackened logs. He was so still that more than once Sky feared he’d fallen into a memory. 
Every so often Wild would blink, gaze flicking away from the fire and over to Sky, as if to make sure he was still there. Occasionally, he seemed to remember that he was holding a drink and took a sip, but then went right back to staring at the flames. 
After several minutes of companionable silence, Sky stood. His movement drew Wild’s attention, but Sky motioned for him to stay where he was. “I’ll be right back,” he assured. 
He made his way into the kitchen, and took the first tray of cookies out of the oven, set them aside to cool, and replaced them with another tray. Then he climbed the stairs to the second floor- carefully making sure to step over the third step from the top which always creaked loudly when it was stepped on. 
Entering the guest room where He’d been sleeping not even half an hour ago, Sky carefully picked his way around the sleeping bodies, feeling for his pack in the dark. He retrieved what he came for and left as quickly as he came, this time while cradling his harp close to his chest. Hopefully, he hadn’t disturbed the sleep of any of his brothers.
Wild was exactly where Sky had left him, and had gone back to staring at the fire. He didn’t look up as Sky returned, and didn’t seem to register the fact that Sky had brought his harp down with him.
 It was obvious by now that something was wrong with the champion, despite his claims. Maybe he truly hadn’t had a nightmare, and he really couldn’t sleep, but there was something else going on too.
Sky thought about prying. He thought about setting aside his harp and asking Wild what was wrong. But he wouldn’t imagine that would go well. Wild had already indicated he didn’t feel up to talking, even about mundane things. Sky doubted Wild would want to delve into his darker thoughts.
So instead of asking, Sky readied his harp, and began to play.
Wild jerked, not expecting the sudden music. He turned to look at Sky. He stared for long enough that Sky thought he was going to say something, but instead he turned back to watch the light dance in the hearth.
Sky plucked at the strings gently, starting up a soothing melody. He kept it as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb any of the sleeping heroes or Malon upstairs.
His playing didn’t seem to make Wild any happier or offer him a distraction from his thoughts, but it also didn’t seem to be making him upset. As Wild didn’t ask Sky to stop, the chosen hero continued his quiet playing.
In a break between songs, as Sky was plucking idly on the strings and thinking about which song to play next, Wild spoke up. His voice was so quiet, Sky nearly missed it, but he put aside his harp to listen better. 
“Yule feels so familiar. It’s so-” Wild cut himself off with a wavering sigh. Sky blinked at him in confusion before realizing Wild was probably telling him what had been on his mind the whole evening. 
“I can’t remember celebrating the holidays with my family. But the snow, and the smell of pine and nutmeg, and the warmth from the fire…” Wild trailed off, reaching out a hand out towards the flames as if feeling their warmth. Sky wondered if he even realized he was doing it. 
Wild slowly brought the hand back to his chest, clutching the front of his tunic loosely. “It all feels so familiar. It makes me happy, because I know I must have been happy before.” 
Sky didn’t ask what Wild meant by ‘before.’ He already knew.
“But it hurts so much, because I am never going to know exactly what I lost. No one can tell me about my family, and I’m probably never going to remember. I don’t even know them, but I still miss them so badly.” Wild seemed to lose steam the longer he spoke, his words trailing off into a miserable whisper until they were barely audible.
Sky’s first reaction was to try and reassure Wild that, of course, he would remember eventually. He bit his tongue, pushing down the urge. Wild didn’t seem to be expecting an immediate answer to what he’d said, so Sky took his time formulating his response. This wasn’t the time to be rushing into things and sticking his foot in it. 
It was a nice thought that eventually Wild would remember everything about his previous life, but not a very realistic one. And honestly, if Wild said he thought he wasn’t going to remember something, Sky was inclined to believe him. Wild knew more about his amnesia than Sky ever would. 
The boy had lost his family, in possibly the most permanent sense. He didn’t have any memories to look back on as he grieved. From what Sky knew, the boy didn’t even know who he was mourning. A mother and father, brothers or sisters, perhaps? Sky didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure Wild did either. How could Wild know when he couldn’t remember?
Telling Wild that the emotions he was feeling were wrong wasn't going to help anyone. 
The teen had been through a lot, and Sky knew from personal experiences that having your emotions dismissed felt horrible. Every reassurance that everything would be okay eventually felt like a personal insult when it seemed like nothing would ever be alright ever again. If you felt bad in the moment, being told you would feel better in the future wasn't helpful.
He wouldn't do that to Wild. Sky had been able to drag himself out of that horribly dark mindset after his own quest, but it had taken a long time, and support from his friends and family. 
He could be that support for Wild, as long as he needed it.
He set his harp to the side, scooting closer to Wild and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Wild followed his tugging and leaned against Sky’s shoulder with no resistance. 
Sky did his best to offer comforting words. “You may not ever be able to remember your family, but you don’t need to remember what they were like to know you loved them. You don’t need to know their faces to mourn them. Not having many memories of your loved ones didn’t mean your love for them was diminished at all.”
Wild didn’t respond, but Sky hesitated to push him anymore. Wild was already being vulnerable tonight, Sky didn’t want to pressure him. 
At least Wild seemed in a slightly better mood as he contemplated Sky’s words. He didn’t return to his previous stupor, remaining alert instead of zoning out and staring at the fire. Sky hoped Wild would think about what Sky said. At the very least, he hoped that Wild wouldn’t hesitate to come to Sky again if he needed to talk. 
The silence continued, but it was more comfortable than before. Sky no longer felt the need to fill the quiet with music, content to simply sit next to Wild. That was, until an unpleasant scent reached Sky’s nose. He sniffed, frowning. It smelled like something was burning, and it wasn’t the pleasant scent of the pine wood in the fireplace.
“Wild, do you-” his words were cut off before he could even finish his question by Wild shooting up from where he’d been leaning into Sky’s side. 
“Oh gods, the cookies!”
There was a mad scramble to the kitchen, and Sky hovered anxiously while Wild grabbed the oven mitts and brought the second tray out of the oven. There was a moment of silence as the two of them observed the tray of cookies.
“Well,” Sky started, trying to be positive. “Some of them can be salvaged.”
Wild only sighed, putting the tray to the side, and turning to slide the next one into the oven. Sky watched in concern when Wild’s shoulder started to shake. Was he crying? When Wild turned around, though, Sky could see he was restraining himself from bursting into laughter. 
“Here I was throwing a pity party for myself, and letting the cookies burn,” Wild said, barely able to get his words out without wheezing. 
“What- it’s not your fault-” Sky spluttered, not sure how to respond to that, but Wild waved him off. The misfortune with the cookies seemed to have cheered him up even more, so Sky let it go, even though he didn't approve of Wild calling the evening a “pity party.”
The rest of the time waiting for the final three batches of cookies was spent sitting next to each other on the couch, this time with a much lighter atmosphere than before. Sky started playing again, and now Wild was actually paying attention. He seemed to appreciate Sky’s playing, and occasionally, he even piped up to say he recognized the song Sky was playing from his own era. (It always amazed Sky to hear that some parts of Skyloft’s culture, such as certain songs, survived through the many years that separated them.)
Sky could accept that although Wild wasn’t better- it would take a long time for Wild to truly make peace with his lost memories and his family’s death- he wasn’t feeling the crushing weight of that grief anymore tonight. 
By the time the last tray of cookies came out of the oven, Wild had decided that the first tray was cool enough to be iced. He was quick to whip up some simple icing. Powdered sugar with milk added a bit at a time until it reached the right consistency to pipe onto the cookies. Neither of them knew where Malon kept a piping bag in her kitchen or if she even had one at all, but thankfully, Wild had some stashed in his slate. 
Sky wasn’t surprised in the slightest that Wild had such a specific tool in his slate. He wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out Wild had an entire kitchen stuffed into his slate. He said as much, but Wild didn’t laugh at his joke. Sky decided it was best not to ask.
The icing started out simple and random, adding the impression of hair and clothes, all in white. It didn’t take long before Wild was making some of the cookies into people he knew. There was one of Flora, some that were meant to represent the new champions from Wild’s stories- Riju, Teba, Yunobo, and Sidon. Sky squinted, but he honestly couldn’t see how the one meant to represent Sidon looked like him at all. At least from what he remembered from the picture Wild had shown the group of heroes before. He cut Wild some slack though, since he only had white icing to work with, and was trying to squeeze a non-hylian onto a hylian-shaped cookie.
Sky liked the idea of decorating some of the cookies to resemble people he knew. He set about making one to represent Sun. He was so focused on his decoration that he didn’t notice what Wild was doing in the meantime until he was finished with his Sun cookie. When he looked up again, he was surprised to see Wild had- somehow- managed to make a whole rainbow of colors, already placed into piping bags.
“What?” He gasped. “How?”
Wild grinned sheepishly. “There’s a dye shop in Hateno, my hometown. They mostly make dye for clothing, but they also sell food-safe dye. It’s pretty expensive but I figured it might be useful to have some at some point so I bought some in every color. This is a good enough time as any to start using it. We won’t be as limited by the colors anymore.”
Sky felt a grin overtaking his features. He knew exactly who he wanted to make into a cookie next. Grabbing the red icing and a new cookie, and started constructing a familiar, ridiculous hairstyle. His only regret when he got done with the Groose coolie was that the man wouldn’t be able to see Sky’s masterpiece before it was devoured. It actually looked a decent amount like the man.
Leaning back, Sky popped his back, a bit stiff from having been sitting at the counter for so long. Looking over at Wild, he saw that the champion ws also finishing up his current cookie. When Wild held it up to show Sky, he could see it was colored to look exactly like Twilight. 
“That looks really good!” Sky said, leaning over to look closer. It really did look like a mini version of the rancher. Wild had even used a toothpick to carefully draw in the lines of Twilight’s facial tattoos. 
They worked quickly, occasionally exchanging snickers at the cute cookie versions of the other heroes. They even did one for Sky, with a mini sailcloth and all. All the cookies were messy. Some of the icing was smeared, but they remained recognizable as their fellow heroes. 
Occasionally, they had to stop for Wild to mix new colors to match the colors of the other heroes. Pink for Legend’s hair, purple for part of Four's tunic, a lighter blue for Wild and Wind’s tunics, and gray for Time’s armor. 
By the time they’d finished icing most of the cookies, the kitchen was covered in smears of colorful icing. Sky winced. He hoped the color wouldn't stain the counters. He doubted Time or Malon would appreciate waking up to find their kitchen more colorful than they’d left it the night before.
He and Wild leaned back, observing their work so far. Neither of them were painters and it was obvious, but none of the cookies looked half bad. Sky personally thought they looked great, but Wild seemed to disagree. Sky watched curiously as Wild leaned over, picked up the black icing, and added two tiny black lines over Legend’s eyes. 
“There, that’s much better. It looks way more like him,” he said, struggling to hold back a laugh at the angry expression on the cookie’s face. Sky had to hold back a snort too. He could already imagine the reaction Legend would have the next day when he noticed how his expression differed from the rest. Sky anticipated plenty of shouting and angry expressions from the veteran, not that it would help the vet prove that he ‘didn’t look like that.’ 
Now there was only one hero left to ice, and only one cookie left to be iced. “You’re the last one to ice,” Sky said, reaching for the last cookie before catching sight of it. When he did, he froze.
The only cookie left on the tray was from the batch they’d burnt early in the night. They’d needed to throw half of that batch in the trash, but had agreed some of the cookies were salvageable. This had been one of them. Unfortunately, the cookie was badly burnt all along one side. 
“Oh,” Sky nearly choked, casting a worried glance at Wild. He felt deeply conflicted about whether he should laugh at this or not. It was a little bit funny that the only cookie left for Wild was the one that was burnt, and the champion had never shown himself to be sensitive about his scars before. But Sky didn’t want Wild to think he was laughing at him. Especially after how emotional the night had already been. 
Thankfully, Wild answered that dilemma for him, breaking out into a strangled chuckle. Wild slapped a hand over his mouth, looking surprised at the laugh that had slipped out of him, and his startled expression was enough to set Sky off. Sky laughing seemed to make Wild break too, and soon both of them were bent over the counter, wheezing as quietly as they could.
Eventually, they managed to reign themselves in, and Wild picked up the blue icing, starting with the outline of his tunic. Sky remained content to watch him, occasionally handing him different colors when requested. Slowly, Sky let his mind wander. 
It had been an eventful night. Some part of him was still worried about Wild, but another part of him knew that the champion was strong enough to pull through his inner turmoil. 
The house still smelled like pine and holly, but now the sweet scent of the gingerbread also filled the house. The kitchen was pleasantly warm from the roaring fire and recently used an oven. Sky couldn’t help but find himself dozing off with his head propped up on his hand. 
It was late after all, well past the time they should have gone to sleep. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to doze a bit while Wild finished the last cookie.
Bonus: The Cookies :)
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littlespacereader · 4 months
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It’s the Doctor Who Christmas Eve fic! This idea came to me on the plane back from college and I just love the idea of having the Doctor pass out and the reader being like “well I better make him comfy”. Thank you to everyone who voted on the poll for the Tenth Doctor! Please enjoy this adorable tale with the Doctor!
A Stranger Invited to Christmas💚❤️🎅🎄
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Caregiver!Tenth Doctor & GN Little!Reader (SFW)
Tags - meeting the Doctor for the first time, taking care of him then vice versa, sippy cups, pacifier, stuffies, cuddles, mentions of Santa and Christmas
Leave it to me to forget milk the night before Christmas. It’s no bother though, a quick trip to the shop and back home never hurt no one. After all who can go without milk on Christmas? What would I leave for Santa? Water? Come on!
With my grocery bag in hand, I walked down street to my flat. Christmas is going to be a little different this year. My family was planning on coming to visit but sadly caught a cold that’s been going around.
That meant Christmas alone this year. I mean I can’t lie, I’m a little bit bummed out I won’t be seeing my family.
Thankfully I have my stuffie family to keep me company for Christmas. That didn’t bother me, if anything it was an excuse to regress the whole holiday season away. I mean who doesn’t want to regress and watching movies like Frosty all night long?
The cold air filled my lungs with a deep breath in. With a deep breath out smoke blew around my face with my warm breath hitting the cold air of the night.
Suddenly a squeak broke my thoughts. It sounded like a bird that was calling out for hell. I turned to the source of the noise and followed it to a bush. Something was ruffling the leaves of it but I couldn’t see the animal.
“It’s okay! I’m not hurt you. I just wanna help.”
It was as if the animal heard me because it came out from its hiding spot in the bush. It looked like…well…actually I don’t know what it is.
It looks like a mole mixed with a bunny. It has this small body with fluffy black fur and big ears. Its hands were similar to a mole’s paws with a long hairless tail behind it that looked similar to one of a rats.
It started to walk over to me on its two back paws as it held its front paws together.
“It’s okay! You’re safe now. What happened?”
I walked towards the fuzzy creature and was about to lean down when…
“LOOK OUT!!” A man grabbed and tackled me on the side. The two of us went tumbling down onto the snowy ground.
He tackled me just in time because the creature hissed and shot some sort of venom where I was originally standing.
The two of us sat up from the ground and looked ahead at the creature scurrying away.
“What is that thing?!”
“It’s a Buried Darthrow Fling. Really nasty creatures despite how cute they look,” The man replied.
He grabbed something at his pocket and flung it ahead where the…Buried Darthrow Fling…was running away.
His aim was perfect because it hit the creature and suddenly it disappeared into thin air.
I started at the blank space where the creature once stood in shock and disbelief…
WHAT JUST HAPPENED?
I stood up and ran over to there the animal once was and my eyes were not deceiving me, it had disappeared.
I turned to the man as he stood up from the snowy ground, “How did that? What? What just happened?”
“I apologize for tackling you but if that Buried Darthrow Fling got venom on you, you would’ve fallen into a coma.” He said casually.
“A coma?”
“Yup.”
“And it disappeared from that thing in your pocket?”
“Yeah,” he picked up another one from his pocket and held it out for me to look at. “See? Nothing too fancy, it just teleports back to its home planet.” He added again…casually.
“Planet? Teleporting? So it’s an alien?!” I was starting to lose my mind.
“I can see you’re a bit overwhelmed. So why don’t we start over.”
He brushed the snow off his long brown trench coat and walked over to me.
“It’s nice to meet you, I’m the Doctor.” He held his hand out to shake.
“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet-.” I started to say before I paused mid sentence.
On his hand was this blue gel splattered across it. He must’ve saw my hesitation and looked at his hand. That’s when he saw the gel too.
“Oh no.”
“Oh no? What’s wrong?” I asked looked at his worried expression.
“The Buried Darthrow Fling must’ve got me when I tackled you.”
My eyes widened, “Oh my God. We gotta get you to the hospital!”
“No no, no hospitals I’ll be fine.” The Doctor started to say before his eyes started roll back and he fell onto his knees.
I ran over and helped him back up. He grabbed my arm, “Okay…maybe it’s starting to have an effect on me.”
I wrapped his arm around my shoulders to get him back on his feet and more steady, “We need to get you to the hospital before you slip into a coma.”
“No I’ll be okay,” he pulled a device from his jacket pocket. It made a weird noise and glowed blue as he hovered it over his hand.
Then after a moment he pulled it up to his face to read. “I won’t go into a coma because my body is built a bit differently than yours.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I’m not human.” He said, putting his glowy pen thing away.
“You not-.” I stopped myself before I could really wrap my mind around it.
“I just need a place…to take a quick…nap.” He said as he started to drift off again.
I helped him to his feet, holding onto his arm around my shoulders with one hand and wrapping my arm around his back with the other.
“My flat is just around the corner here, you can rest there.” I explained as I turned him around and helped him start walking towards my apartment.
“Thank you, that will be *yawn* nice.”
With that the two of us started carefully walking back to my flat.
“I’m sorry…about all this…” his head bobbed up and down as he fought against sleeping.
“It’s not your fault. I was the idiot looking at the strange creature.”
“Well, you didn’t know any better….so no need to apologize. But what are you doing out so late…on Christmas?” He asked between yawns.
“I forgot to get milk for Santa so I went out to a shop…to pick it up…” I started to trail off.
With a quick look over his shoulder I could make out the faint puddle in the distance behind us, which no doubt was my milk carton splattered all over the payment.
“Oh…” The Doctor trailed off as he realized what must’ve happened. “I’m so sorry, I’ll…I’ll make it up to you…”
“Don’t worry about it, I rather have no milk and not be in a coma.” I joked getting a smile from the Doctor.
~~~
Finally we made it back to my flat. As we got closer I could feel the Doctor start to get more and more drowsy. Standing at the door and trying to unlock while also holding onto him was a bit of a challenge but one I managed.
The door swung open. I guided him to my small but cozy living room.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay? You’re not going into a coma?” I asked still extremely worried. I helped him take his long tan coat off then sit on the couch.
“No, no, no. I just need a little nap to get the side effects…to ware off and then…then I’ll be okay. Promise.” He said drifting off.
The worrying started to get to my regression. I held my hand out, pink facing toward him. “Pinky promise?”
He smirked and lifted his tired hand toward mine, wrapping his pink around my own. “Pink promise Y/N.”
“Just…a little…rest that’s…all…” I help him lay on the couch as he started to drift off both what he was saying and off to sleep.
Then it was just me with a sleeping stranger on my couch.
All at once the events hit me like a train and suddenly I felt the reality of everything. He’s an alien, we were attacked by an alien, and now he’s taking a rest on my couch.
No not strange at all, totally not. Why would it be?! It sort felt like a crazy dream I was a part of. But this this was real, this is really happening. This is going to be a Christmas to remember.
With reality and panic setting in, I could stop myself from regressing any further. The panic seemed to slip away as I let myself regress to let go of everything that just happened.
Now fully feeling like my true little self I stared at the stranger in the brown suit and converse. He was very nice to me and he did save my life hence why he was passed out on the couch.
If he was my guest for Christmas, I might as well make him comfy. So off I rushed to the bedroom to grab some supplies.
With arms full, I ran back and got to work. First I draped a soft light pink blanket across his body. Then I gave him a soft pillow behind his head, then to finish it off I surrounded him with not one but about ten different stuffies. I couldn’t have him waking up without friends around him.
Satisfied with the results I rushed off to make myself comfy for the night. It wasn’t too late and I didn’t have a Caregiver to tell me not to stay up…
With Christmas pajamas on, a sippy cup full of juice and a Christmas pacifier in mouth, I sat on the ground infront of the couch as Frosty the Snowman playing on the tv. I would watch Frosty and check on the sleeping strange periodically.
But as the night went on, it became harder and harder to stay awake.
~~~
When The Doctor began to wake up, a few things popped into this mind. For one, he felt very comfortable. He’s hasn’t felt this cozy in a long long time.
Memories started to flood his mind of the past 24 hours. Flying around in the Tardis, getting a notification of a dangerous Buried Darthrow Fling, searching around all of England for it and meeting Y/N. Then of course getting the venom on his hand and passing out.
There was a movie playing in the background. It sounded familiar but something he couldn’t quite place at the moment. Then he heard something that warmed his hearts, a pure and happy giggle.
It was enough to push through the tiredness and open his eyes. And what he saw brought a smile to his face.
Y/N, his newest friend and couch-lender was sitting next to the couch in some Christmas themed pajamas. Beside them was a stuffie, a sippy cup and some biscuits on a tiny plate. On the tv played the new cartoon version of the grinch.
Every so often Y/N would be watching the scene before their head would be nodding off. Then when they realized, they would jump back up and continue watching.
The Doctor realized in two seconds what was going on. It had been far too long since he had seen a Regressor. On his home planet, regressing was as normal as sneezing, but on Earth it wasn’t as well know. Which is a shame the Doctor thought.
He began to sit up on the couch, and that’s when he realized why he was so comfy. He was wrapped in a soft pink blanket and surrounded by plushies.
“You’re awake!”
The Doctor turned to see a wide eyed Little staring back at him.
“Are you okay? How are you feeling?!” Their pacifier fell to the ground as the began to ramble on worried as ever.
“I’m alright. Better now actually than I was before. And even more better thanks to all of these friends that kept me nice and safe while I slept.”
He picked up one of the stuffies, a frog, and smiled. “What’s this one’s name?”
“Tiana. Just like the princess. By your hip is her husband Naveen.” Y/N pointed out.
The Doctor smiled and picked the other frog up. With the married frogs reunited he shook their feet. “It is nice to meet such a lovely couple.”
That caused Y/N to giggle at the Doctor’s silliness. But their giggle caused them to yawn soon after. That caught the Doctor’s attention.
“Y/N, how long have you been up?” He asked before looking around for a clock in their flat.
”Don’t know…wanted to make sure you were okay.” They said with another yawn.
Below the tv sat one that read 11:30pm. “It’s almost midnight! It’s far too late for someone as young as you. Come on, off to bed.” He stood up and walked over to where they were sitting.
The Doctor could see there was a bit of hesitancy in their eyes. “But what about you?”
“What about me?”
“What are you going to do? Are you going back to bed?”
“No. No, I’ve slept enough for at least another two years. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need to go to bed.”
“But…are you going to leave me?”
The question came out as broken and as sad as it could possibly sound.
Sure the Doctor had plenty of other things he had to do. He had to figure out how that creature got to Earth, he had to fix something in the Tardis’ engine…
But the look of wonder, of happiness and of concern for him on Y/N’s face struck something in him. It had been a while since he had a companion. Rose…well…she was gone. And recently Martha had left.
He wasn’t good alone, he knew that, but he always seemed to be alone. That was until now.
Now he had a chance to have a companion again. A friend to travel all throughout time and space with. But not only that, now he now had a Little to care for and watch over.
Plus it was Christmas Eve, and he was always a softie for Christmas.
He bent down, sitting across from them on the ground. He took their hands in his. “As long as you want me here, I’ll stay. I’ll even be happy to take care of you if you need. After all you took such good care of me. Let me return the favor.”
Y/M smiled and squeezed his hands back. “Yes!! I’d love you to stay! We can celebrate Christmas together!”
The Doctor smiled back, “Then that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“But first things first! We gotta get you ready for bed!” The Doctor jumped up off the ground and offered his hand to Y/N to help them up.
Once up and hand in hand, the Doctor turned on his heels to go toward their bedroom but was stopped when Y/N pulled his arms back.
“Wait! We gotta put our cookies out for Santa.”
“Right, of course. We can’t forget about Santa now can we?” He winked.
So off to the small kitchen the two went to fetch some biscuits for Santa. Then there they sat, a tiny plate with two biscuits, some carrots for the reindeer and a glass of juice. With it sat a note to be read later.
The two stood back and admired their work. “You think Santa will like it?” Y/N asked.
“I don’t think he’ll like it. I think he’ll love it.” The Doctor smiled.
Y/N nodded and yawned. The Doctor took that as his cue to get his little one to bed.
“Alright you’ve been up far far too long. Time to go to bed before Santa arrives.” He lifted them into his arms and started to carry them off to bed.
Suddenly the clocks chimed, indicating that it was midnight and officially Christmas Day.
Despite being sleepy Y/N still lifted their head off his shoulder to look at the Doctor with a smile, “Merry Christmas Doctor!” They leaned forward and hugged him tightly.
He hugged back just as tight, “Merry Christmas Y/N!”
Y/N fell asleep soon after. All wrapped up in their fuzzy blanket cuddling close to the Doctor. And the Doctor? He held them close like a protective Caregiver would. And for the first time and a long time, he was happy. Truly and blissfully happy.
The note in the living room to Santa read as followed:
Dear Santa,
We apologize for the juice instead of milk. We almost fell into a coma trying to get milk. But thankfully we’re alive but without milk so please enjoy the glass of juice instead. Please thank the reindeers for their hard work and tell Ms. Clause Merry Christmas from us!
Sincerely,
Y/N and The Doctor
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Oceans of time
One night, Laddie asks David how he became a vampire. The tale that he tells is one of love and betrayal and a hurt he could never quite overcome.
A Dracula A/U
Part 2 Part 3
----------------------------
"How did you become a vampire?"
Laddie laid in his bed, his old stuffed teddybear held tightly in his arms. David looked up from where he was sitting, not responding. The cave was silent. Dwayne, Marko, and Paul had gone out to feed, leaving David with what he called 'baby-sitting duties'. Not that he truly minded it, no. Laddie was - as far as kids go - a good one. He listened, he didn't lie, and he obeyed the rules. Now, however, Laddie had decided not to. Maybe it was because of the warmth of the cave, the summer-heat still caught in its walls. Maybe it was because he had too much sugar that evening, or maybe it was because he was just not tired. No matter the why, David needed to answer, or else the kid might never shut up.
"Why do you ask?"
Laddie shrugged. "I'm just curious."
David couldn't help but grin, shaking his head. "You need to sleep."
"I won't be able to until you tell me. Please, David? Please!"
David sighed, looking at the kid. "Fine. But don't expect a happy story. It isn't."
Still, Laddie smiled. He moved over, laying closer to the wall so there was enough space for David to sit comfortably. "If it gets too sad, Mr. Teddy will cheer you up. He always cheers me up when I'm sad."
"No need," David looked at the stuffed animal - or what was left of it. He supposed the bear was once a light brown colour, but now it was closer to grey. He really had no desire to come close to that thing. "It was a long time ago. There were six of us."
"Who are the other two?"
"Don't interrupt me, or I won't tell you a thing."
Laddie nodded, zipping his mouth close.
July 1897, Santa Carla
"Will you be careful out there?" The young girl asked, sitting next to a phonograph. The song - well, it was hardly that, it was more white noise than music - played quietly. David looked at the girl. Her glasses lay on the table, and just by the way she held her head in her arms, he could tell she was dealing with yet another headache.
"You know I will be. I've got a reason to come back. You wouldn't last a day without me."
A small smile played on the girls lips. "It's not my fault that we can't afford the right glasses."
"Nor is it mine. I'll try and bring some fruit with me today, alright? And if possibke ill try and get some new glasses to try. Maybe we'll be lucky this time. "
"David? Please tell your boys to be careful too - and tell them to come home? I do miss their company."
He sighed, giving his sister a soft kiss on her forehead. What she called home was nothing more than a small kitchen, an even smaller bathroom, and just a single bedroom. There was hardly enough space for the two of them, but somehow, she swore she could make it work for their little makeshift family.
"No need to worry about that, Mia. I'll be back before dark."
With those words, David left the house. The sun was still rising. He knew it would be a long day. His - no matter if you called them friends, gang, crew or something else, it never felt quite right - brothers and he had taken to a life of petty crime. Sure, a couple years back, they had tried to do honest work, working in the factory or the coal mines, but eventually, they all realised that they did shitty work for even shittier pay. So now they stole, gambled a bit here and there. They had a benefactor, a man willing to pay them for their crimes. Steal some papers from the governor, plant some evidence at the pub - whatever Mr. Max demanded, they'd do. He paid well, and that's exactly what they needed. They did what they could to survive, and this definitely helped.
They were good at that, surviving. Quick on their feet, changing plans on the spot, being able to predict outcomes - they were good. They'd managed to stay out of the hands of law enforcement, and the one time they did end up in jail, their good friend Lucinda was quick to break them out. She called it paying bail, but they didn't really care about the technicalities,
"Have you heard? There's a shipwreck down by the beach. If we're quick, we can see if there's some loot." Paul grinned as he showed that mornings newspaper. They'd met up down the harbour. Marko had stolen some bread and shared it with the boys. David sat on one of the crates while Dwayne scanned the crowds. Early mornings meant drunk people stumbling over the docks, trying to make their way home. They were easy targets and often wouldn't even remember what they'd been robbed off.
"What kind of ship?" Marko took the paper, looking at the photograph. "Seems quite big. Could be something." He showed the picture to the others, not bothering with the specifics of the article.
"Won't any survivors come knocking?" Dwayne looked at Paul, who just grinned. "Nope! There were no survivors. That's what they say anyway. Only a dog that ran off, the second the ship stranded."
"We should check it out," David nodded, following Paul to the beach. It wasn't often that a shipwreck ended up on their beach. Ships like these would carry cargo, and possibly something that was worth a fortune.
As promised, there was a shipwreck on the beach. The whole thing was broken apart, as if something unnatural had ripped the wooden boards away from each other. If they hadn't been told that it had been a ship, David was certain they would not have recognised it as such. As they moved through the ship, exploring what was left of the now empty rooms, they came to two conclusions.
One: There was nothing to loot. Two: There were some very strange marks on the doors and walls. As if someone had tried to fight something off.
"There's nothing here," Marko spoke up after they sweeped the place. "We should go, maybe Max has something for us."
With the uneasiness they felt on the ship, none of the boys were too saddened to leave. There was something off with this place, and none of them wanted to find out what it was exactly.
As they met up with Max, outside the hospital, David realised that this was indeed going to be a long day.
"Sorry boys, nothing new today." Max was about to turn around, entering the hospital again, when David spoke up.
"Seriously? It's been six days. We need some fucking money."
"You better watch your tone," the man gave him a stern look, "there many that would kill to work for me."
Knowing this would get them nowhere, they decided to try their luck on the streets. That's how they spent their day, trying to figure out who they could steel from and, most often, succeeding. At the end of the day, they had made three pounds stealing from the rich. It was enough to pay rent for another week and to buy food for the next couple of days. David grinned - Mia would be happy.
"Oh, I'm so glad you're here!" Mia opened the door, noticing that her brother had brought home the others. "I've got so much to tell you!"
"What happened?" Dwayne sat down at the kitchen table, opening a bottle of gin. Marko had grabbed five glasses, while Paul helped Mia to a chair. She was still not wearing her glasses and had in the five steps it took to get from the front door to the kitchen already bumped into something twice.
"Lucinda stepped by today. She's back in town," Mia explained. Lucinda had always been a friend to the boys. They had met a long time ago when she had saved them from a prison sentence. Ever since they had been close, even if she was richer than they could ever dream of being. "She said that a European doctor had arrived and that he's trained in anything to do with the eyes."
"Mi, love, we can't afford new glasses." Paul ran his hand through her hair.
"I know - but that's not the point! She is engaged to him, and she's going to ask him to see if he can do something about my eyes as a favour. Isn't that just great?"
"It sounds too good to be true," Marko said, and Mia noticed his tone immediately. She quieted down a bit.
"You think it's a scam?"
"Dangerous, at least. I wouldn't trust him."
"Lucy also offered to talk to him about maybe getting eye surgery, if that's possible in my case." She said it softly, already guessing how her brothers would react.
"That'd be experimental then, right?" Dwayne looked at her as she nodded.
"Absolutely not!" David slammed his cup down on the table. "You will not get fucking surgery of we already think this whole thing is sketchy in the first place."
Mia sighed. "I know. It would just be nice to also help out, you know? Before I got fired-"
"You were hurt every single day by your boss. Don't worry about it," Paul pulled her close, letting her lean against him.
David looked at his sister. "Sorry, kid." He grabbed the money they'd collected today out of his pocket. "We can afford some food the next couple of days, though."
And with that, the whole conversation was forgotten. Mia and the boys made plans for dinner, and David went off to pay the rent.
1987, Santa Carla
"Where's Mia now?"
Laddie looked at David, who sighed as he lit a cigarette. "She's gone."
"Oh. Why did she want that eye surgery? It sounds scary."
"It is, especially back then, She was nearsighted. She couldn't see for shit. The glasses she had weren't right, and we couldn't afford better ones. She got headaches, so she never wore them. She was always bumping into things," he smiled at the memory, "So, after a while, she began looking into other things that could help restore her sight."
"Could they?"
"God no. Glasses were what she needed. We stole them quite often, but none of them were right for her."
"What happened next?"
"Lucinda stepped by. And then both she and Mia got sick."
August 1897, Santa Carla
"He is so perfect," Lucinda giggled as she poured Mia some tea. They were sitting in the garden of Lucinda's estate. Well, her parents' estate. "Just last night, he said he'd be with me forever. Isn't that romantic?"
"Quite so!" Mia smiled. "When will you get married? Will you get married? You also had an offer from the governors son, did you not?"
"In a fortnight, obviously you and your brothers will have to be there - I simply won't get married without them there. And yes, I did - but honestly, Wolfram is an idiot. He wouldn't know how to open a letter if I didn't instruct him. So, I have decided that Doctor Holmwood was the best match."
"Why? So you can show how much richer you're getting?" Dwayne walked in, a teasing grin on his face. He grabbed a chair and moved to sit at the table.
"Absolutely!" She smiled. "It is weird, though.."
"What is?" Mia reached for her teacup, cursing under her breath as some hot tea spilt over her fingers when she hit the cup too hard. She knew she should have worn her glasses - things would still be fuzzy, but not as much as they were now. But then she had to deal with headaches - and those were worse.
"Ever since I got engaged to him, I have been having nightmares. The strangest dreams, really."
"Aren't you just worried about the wedding?" Mia offered, while Dwayne asked what the dreams were about.
"I'm always sleep walking, all the way to the cemetery. And once there, I'm being haunted and hunted, taunted. It's horrifying. And just yesterday, I had the exact same dream, but this time, some monster grabbed me by the throat and actually bit me."
They were silent for a moment. "When did they start?"
"When we arrived in London, I think. I just hoped they'd stop once we were back home."
"How about you sleep at our place tonight?" Dwayne looked at Lucinda. "Maybe it will stop the nightmares."
"That would be lovely." Lucinda smiled brightly. "I'll go home and grab some stuff, and I'll be there before dinner." She smiled at Mia, taking her hand as she was about to speak up. "I'll make sure to bring some food along, don't worry."
That night, after dinner, Mia and Lucinda went off to bed. They'd listened to the stories the boys told, about running from the cops and getting a new assignment from Max - apparently there was a new Lord in town, and they needed to figure out who he was. The girls stepped into the bed, after making sure that the boys would be alright.
"We'll manage," David looked at Mapia. "Just make sure the two of you get some sleep, alright?"
Mia nodded, and after chatting for a bit, both girls fell asleep quickly. Only a few hojrs later, the boys did the same. The house was quiet. No one moved. No one spoke.
So, they didn't notice that they'd forgotten to lock the window. They didn't notice how it slammed open, a dark figure standing on the windowsill. They didn't notice how that same dark figure moved forward, bending over both girls. They didn't notice that the dark figure only had eyes for Mia, longingly stroking her arm, but deciding to leave her untouched for now. He could always claim her later. Now, it was time for his first conquest. It was time for her to join him.
It wasn't until early morning that Mia awoke. "Luce?" She asked sleepily as she felt a heavy weight on her stomach. She blinked, sitting up. As she moved closer, she couldn't help but scream. The body next to her was ice cold. The throat was ripped open. The whole bed was covered in blood. Lucinda had been killed. Brutally murdered. And she just slept through it, not able to help one of her dearest friends.
"Mia, what -" David pulled his sister away from the bed, holding her tight as she cried, upon seeing the massacre on the sheets. The other boys entered the room just as quickly, immediately moving to see if they could figure out who had entered the room. They needed to know who had done this.
"You're alright, love," David led Mia to the small bathroom, making sure that all the blood was washed off of her body.
"Is she - is she dead?"
David nodded. Mia closed her eyes, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub, trying to even her breathing. "How did I - how could I sleep through that? She - "
"Mia, look at me," David kneeled down so he was at eye level with her. "There was nothing you could have done."
Mia nodded quietly. He knew she didn't believe him, but he'd repeat it over and over until it got through.
The rest of the day was chaos. They had to call the police, Lucinda's family, her fiancé. People came and went. Pictures were taken of the crime scene, and every one of them was questioned. At the end of the day, Mia had no tears left to cry, and the boys felt just the same. That night, the house was quiet, them softly talking about their times with Lucinda. How she helped them out when they got in trouble with the law. How she was the first and only person to ever catch them red-handed - they had tried to pickpocket from her after all, even after she had saved them from jail. She had smiled and just given them some money. She had always been like an older sister to them, taking care of them when needed and always being there for both the good and the bad. She had brought humour, charm, and insights into how to best steal from the rich - and now she was gone.
1987, Santa Carla
"So, was she killed by a vampire?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"That's how he changed her. We just didn't know that at the time. We also didn't know what we would become eventually, or we would have never done what we had done."
"What did you do?"
David shook his head. His cigarette had turned into ashes, and he heard the other boys returning. "I'll tell you tomorrow. You need to go to sleep now."
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December Christmas Monster stories
December 7.) Female Yautja at Christmas party
Summery: you take your alien wife to a Christmas work party. A coworker upsets you and that pisses you off. Reader if only refured to as "you" no pronouns used
Warnings: unwanted flirting, gift that crosses over boundary's, animal pelt, pissed off alien, yautja being possesive
Minors don't interact!
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“Love, are you ready?” You called putting the finishing touches on your wrapped gift for the secret santa. The company you worked for was having a Christmas party, spouses were invited. Your goddess of a wife agreed to come though she didn't understand human celebrations. They didn't have anything to do with hunting, not any more at the least. But you were excited and asked so nicely, there was no way she was going to say no. 
Stepping out the bedroom door she ran her hands over the tight red fabric smoothing it out. The sight of her in a floor length dress with a slit on both thighs took your breath away. You weren't sure it was an appropriate dress for a business party but by the gods did she look divine in it. Draped on her shoulders was the pelt from some animal she had killed with her own bare hands on some other planet. You weren't sure of the name of the animal, it didn't matter now as it was an accessory showing off her beauty and strength. Like all her other clothes this dress had no sleeves, she hated them she rather have her arms free for fighting. What you couldn't see was the dress was backless. The pelt covered that fact out for the most part. 
Your eyes refused to stay still looking over every part of her absolutely stunned by her looks. The gold jewelry just adding to her beauty. It was a celebration, she wanted to look her best. Gulping you tried to calm your nerves, you weren't sure you could make it through the party without melting from her amazing looks.
She could read you so so well. This was planned, she knew wearing this dress would make you go feral. It was going to be a fun night messing with you. “I'm ready my moon hunter.” She purred walking up to you. Leaning down she paused for a second giving you a view of her chest for a moment before gently rubbing her mandibles against your cheek. Kisses were a bit of a difficult matter with the difference of months between the two species. Hard to kiss when you don't have lips. Leaning back she raised her mandibles up in a smirk. Holding her large hand out for you to take she watched amused as you scrambled to grab the gift and her hand. “Which ooman are you giving that to?” She questioned pointing to the gift in your hand. “Oh? Janet from marketing. I don't really know her so I hope she likes the mittens. I overheard her talking about how she really needed new mittens.” You said looking at the wrapped gift hoping it didn't scream I don't know what you like so here. “She better like it.” Your wife said, holding up a fist. “Down girl.” You joked kissing the back of her hand drawing a purr from her.
Janet loved the mittens, luck for you they were her favorite color too. The person who got you as secret santa turned out to be Susan from the accounting department. Her gift to you were fuzzy handcuffs. This made you greatly uncomfortable getting them from a coworker you knew even less than Janet. She seemed to know that as she had given you your gift the second your wife had stepped away to get the both of you a drink. “It's to use on me later.” She said winking at you. Looking at her with disgust you pushed the box back into her hands and walked away. 
“I don't want to be here any more.” You told your wife when you had found her. She immediately noticed the look on your face, your body language, she didn't know what happened but she was pissed. “Who upset you, my moon hunter?” She asked flaring her mandibles. You didn't say anything, just glancing over to Susan. Following your gaze she spotted the fuming woman upset about your rejection. 
Stomping her way the party quieted down, the sight of an eight foot pissed alien would stop most parties. Standing in front of Susan your wife glared down at her. If she could kill with just her eyes Susan would be long dead. Being so livid your wife angrily clicked at her being so worked up to speak in english. She was livid that Susan had upset her, if she knew the cowering woman before her had attempted to steal her spouse she would have ripped her to pieces, literally. You knew you were going to have to send management an email explaining what happened later. 
After a few minutes your wife stopped clicking at her and was just growling. She was definitely holding back. If Susan was a yautja your wife would have picked her up and thrown her out the window. Turning your wife stormed back over to you, picked you up and stormed out the door. 
Back at home she cooed and clicked at you while you sat in her lap. You were fine now but she wouldn't stop with the cooeing and clicking. After a while you figured it was because she was the one needing the attention to calm down. Turing in her lap you gently cupped her face as you leaned in to pepper her in kisses. The moment your lips were on her she was purring. 
Closing her eyes she relaxed into your touch as her arms snaked around your waist holding you close, locking you in. “I love you so so much. Nothing will ever take me away from you.” She didn't know why you worded it like that but it was a comfort, she often worried about losing you. 
It was decided between the two of you Christmas work parties weren't worth the stress, next year you were going to skip it and just cuddle your wife instead, maybe spend it on her home planet instead.
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andreafmn · 2 years
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Speak - Chapter 3
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Word Count: 3K
Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.
*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Twilight, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Stephanie Meyer and Summit Entertainment. The only thing I own is Swan Reader insert, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.
Chapter: 3/?
A/N: oh oh, Paul seems to be sneaking into (Y/N)'s thoughts... Also changed up the story to third person POV, cause I couldn't continue in first. 😅
If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories. You can request at any time any story or one-shot you desire. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.
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Chapter 3
For the past couple of days, a smile had been plastered on (Y/N)’s face. The nightly phone calls with Jake had started growing longer, even though they didn’t have much more to talk about. But his voice was a comforting embrace during Bella’s tortured screams. As time passed, the girl just seemed to get worse.
As Christmas day finally approached, Charlie and (Y/N) thought she’d be happier. At least just a bit better. It had always been a cheery holiday regardless of their familial situation. Renée made sure that the girls woke up to presents under the tree and spare cookies “Santa” had left behind. Even if Bella never said she liked the theatrics of it all, (Y/N) could tell she enjoyed the thought that went into it. Those were moments the younger Swan was sure would overshadow whatever black cloud that was hanging over her.
Granted, she had no way of knowing how deeply in love Bella was with this Edward character. In less than a year, he was able to cause more damage than their parent’s separation had ever been able to, and she had been devastated – for a bit.
“Hey, Bells,” (Y/N) tiptoed into her room. Much like every other day, she sat on her office chair staring into the endlessness of the woods behind our house. “I was gonna wrap up some presents for tomorrow. Mind if I do it in here for a bit of company?”
A grunt of agreement.
(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she placed everything on the bed, unloading the unnecessary amount of presents in her arms. “You know, Uncle Billy invited us over to spend Christmas with him and Jake. Dad is gonna try to put on a barbecue in this snow,” she chuckled, and she could have sworn she had heard the skin on her cheeks creak up into a smile. “I still remember when we were little, and he tried so hard to light the barbecue during a blizzard. And the wind just kept blowing the flame off. He was so pissed and packed the steaks away.
But, yeah, I’ve never understood why they like meat so much. I mean we’re in freezing weather and he still wants to do a cookout.”
“Just be thankful there’s something he can cook,” she croaked out. (Y/N) almost leaped off the bed when she heard the sound. But treating her like a wild animal was the best route – no sudden sounds or movements. “And that you eat meat.”
“Right, the vegetarian thing. I mean, I can make you anything, so you don’t feel left out.” (Y/N) softly prodded around the situation, maybe she could catch her sister in a moment where she’d finally agree to leave her bedroom. “I’m sure everyone would be more than delighted if you were there.”
“I’m not going, (Y/N),” Bella whispered. Her shoulders slumped once more and all the liveliness that (Y/N) could have sworn had returned to her body, dissipated in a breath.
“Come on, Bella,” she complained. “You need to leave the house for another place other than school and the Newton’s store. You were broken up with, you’re not dead.”
Bella’s body morphed back into the statue-like position she rested in most of her days. Her sights were once again frozen on the window, searching for something – someone – that simply was not there. (Y/N) had joked to their dad that they should throw the chair away while she was at school, but as each day passed it seemed like more of a possibility.
“Fine, Bells,” she sighed and gathered all her things. “You know, this guy must have been heaven on earth, cause no one’s worth this much pain.”
It’s difficult to pull someone from a hole they created for themselves. Bella was stuck deep in this hole, but she was making no effort to get out of it, regardless of how many people were trying to help her. (Y/N) found it almost baffling how many people cared for her sister, but she only cared for the one guy that left her to rot.
The girl finished wrapping the rest of the presents in her room before starting a quick dinner for her father and herself, knowing Bella would most likely not eat anything, like every other night. (Y/N) knew her irritation was visible. She loved her sister, but her behavior was starting to become unbearable. A couple of more months of this and she was sure she’d go insane. It had been four months and, as time passed, she seemed to be getting worse rather than better. It was exhausting.
After finishing up a pot of spaghetti and meat sauce, (Y/N) left a plate served inside the microwave and a note on the fridge for her dad. She was far too exhausted to clean up and left all the dirty dishes in the sink. Dad could clean it, she thought. Instead, she went up the stairs and plopped onto her bed, allowing the warm comforter and the pillow to pull her into a deep sleep.
But before she could truly succumb to slumber, her phone rang. Jacob’s name lit up the screen, and under the words, “come outside” were displayed. Instantly, a smile spread across the girl’s face. If there was anyone that could put her out of my sour mood, it would be him.
Running out the door, she put on her boots and wrapped a jacket around her body. She was met with the visual of Jacob in his truck wearing a devilish grin on his face. He reached over and opened the passenger door for (Y/N) and beaconed her inside. Trying to avoid spending more time in the cold she jumped into the truck, sighing contentedly as warmth engulfed her.
“Hey,” he smiled. Jacob leaned over the center console, placing one hand on her cheek and pulling her toward him before placing a kiss on her lips. “Couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see you.” 
“I noticed,” she chuckled shyly. There was no reason for her to still be nervous around him, but she simply couldn’t help the butterflies in her stomach. What she didn’t know at the time was that the butterflies were a warning. “I’m glad you couldn’t wait.”
“Were you able to convince Bella to come?” 
“I tried,” she sighed. “There’s just no getting through to her right now.”
“Man, that Cullen bastard really did a number on her.” She could see the anger coming from Jacob. It was like a burning aura that surrounded him. His teeth were gritted, and his hands had closed into a tight fist. “Where does he get off abandoning her like that? If I were him, I would have never let her go. She doesn’t deserve that.”
That had stung. (Y/N) knew he was probably not over his silly crush on Bella, but to mention being with her while being with (Y/N), hurt. But she knew she couldn’t bring that up without causing a fight. “Can we please not talk about that,” the girl said instead. “I feel like my life has become Bella Swan’s Days of our Lives.”
“Yeah, sorry,” he laughed awkwardly. “You know, something weird happened the other day.” 
“What happened?” 
“You remember that guy that was staring at you at the bonfire a couple of days ago?” 
“Paul something?”
“Lahote, yeah,” he corrected. “He came over and told me I should stay away from you. Did something happen there?” 
He was... jealous? The question came out of nowhere. (Y/N) thought she had been clear that she had never met him before seeing him that night, and that she wanted nothing to do with him. Although ever since that night she could not get his addictive stare out of her head. When she closed her eyes at night, even if she started by thinking of Jake, her brain couldn’t help but dissolve into his piercing brown gaze. Her head would not shake the image of the boy from it.
“Jake, I already told you that you have nothing to worry about there,” she smiled at him in an attempt to subdue his anger. “I don’t know who this Paul guy thinks he is, but I am not interested in him in the slightest.” 
“It’s just, the gall this guy has to think he has some kind of claim over you. As if he doesn’t know who you are to me.” 
“What am I to you exactly?” she teased. They had yet to have any conversation about where this relationship was headed. It had been such a short amount of time, but they had known each other for a lifetime. "I would like to know." 
“Well, I’m hoping you’d like to be my girlfriend,” he grinned, any sign of anger disappearing. “What do you say?” 
 “I don’t know,” (Y/N) giggled coyly. “Maybe I should keep my options open just in case Paul decides to ask me out. Wouldn’t want to close out the market.” 
“You’re funny.” 
He leaned in once more for a kiss, but this one was different. Jake scooched closer to (Y/N), doing his best to deepen it. She ran her fingers through his long hair as his hands rested on the sides of her face. This was desperate and passionate, just the thing to push Paul Lahote out of her mind.
As the windows started fogging and their hands started traveling south, a knock on the window startled the teenagers apart.
“I really hope that’s not you, Jacob Black, with my daughter,”  Charlie spoke through the fogged-up window, flashlight in hand.
Jake flashed her an apologetic smile before rolling down the window on his side. "Hey, sheriff. How’s your night been?” 
“Well, it was a very uneventful one at first,” he grumbled. “Until I came home, and I saw your truck with misty windows and my daughter in the passenger seat. Hi, (Y/N).”
“He~ey, dad.” She gave him a small wave and covered her reddened face with her hands. “We were just talking.”
“Last time I checked talking doesn’t fog up windows, honey,” her father countered. “Let’s go, (Y/N). Jacob, get home.”
She jumped out of the truck after squeezing Jake’s hand as reassurance and joined her father’s side. Promptly, he pushed her behind him, acting as a barrier between Jacob and the girl.
“We’ll see you tomorrow, Jacob.”
“Alright, Mr. Swan,” he responded. She could tell he was swallowing the laughter that had bubbled in his throat and was threatening to spill. “Bye, (Y/N).”
“See you, Jake.”
“Get in the house, (Y/N).”
Her father’s reaction was perplexing. He’d always liked Jake. He even joked when they were little that they would make a cute couple. Now, he was acting as if he’d caught her with a dangerous stranger. She wondered if he’d reacted this way when Bella first brought Edward around.
“What was that spectacle outside, (Y/N)?” Charlie finally broke the silence, fuming. “What exactly did you think you were doing?”
“Um, I was kissing my boyfriend,” she responded matter-of-factly. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”
“Boyfriend? Since when is Jacob Black your boyfriend?”
“As of five minutes ago, roughly?” She was trying to liven the mood adding a tone of comedy, but she could tell her father was having none of it. “I don’t get why you’re so upset, dad. You’ve always loved Jake.”
“I’ve already got one heartbroken daughter,” he sighed. Charlie rubbed his temples, hiding the fear in his face. “I don’t know what I would do if both of you were. Jake’s a good kid but I could never forgive him if he hurt you, honey.”
“Let’s not get ahead of this, dad,” she chuckled dryly. (Y/N) had faith in her relationship, but she couldn’t help the doubt that crept into her head when her dad mentioned Jake breaking her heart. “We literally just became official. You’re ending us before we’ve even started. One thing I can tell you is that I won’t be like Bella.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t know that. I just don’t want to see you in the same pain your sister is going through.”
“Dad, I understand you’re worried,” she smiled at her father. To calm him, (Y/N) grabbed his calloused hands and gave them a squeeze. “But I am not Bella, and Jacob is not Edward. Have a little faith in me, yeah?”
“I can’t help it, (Y/N),” Charlie said. “It kills me to see Bella like this. I don’t want you to go through that.”
“I know, and I promise you that you will never have to go through this again with me,” she said. “Now, why don’t you go eat and go to bed? We have a long day tomorrow.”
“Alright, darling,” he responded defeated. “Good night.”
“Good night, dad.”
(Y/N) disappeared up the stairs, passing by her sister’s room. She mumbled a good night to her stoic sister before finally getting into her bed to hopefully sleep this time. She wanted to rest. Yet, when she closed her eyes the same ones that had been haunting her dreams stared back.
Something about him called to her. She only knew his name and still, he took possession of her thoughts. Deep inside her, something begged her to get closer to him. There was no reason for him to be in her head, much less in her dreams.
She was standing in a clearing, looking over a still river. Her body was clothed in a white flowing dress and her feet were bare. (Y/N) turned, taking in the scenery and breathing the fresh air. The sun felt warm against her skin, beckoning a smile to her face.
“You look beautiful, darling,” a voice spoke. “Absolutely radiant.”
“Thank you, Paul. And you look as handsome as ever,” she giggled. “Come here.”
He walked slowly to her, a playful grin propped on his face. His arms circled her waist and wrapped her in a tight hug, lifting her from the ground and spinning her around. As he slid her back to the ground, he placed a hand on her cheek, his thumb running through her cheek. (Y/N) closed her eyes and enjoyed the touch, his warmth feeling better than the one the sun provided.  
She felt different with him. Unlike with Jake, Paul didn’t make her feel butterflies. He made her feel calm, at peace. There was a homely feeling to being in his arms. Like she had found the right place to be in. She fit perfectly between them like she was made to be there.
(Y/N) allowed him to pull her toward the water, sinking into the comfortable river. She gave him a smile and shrieked happily as the coldness seeped through her bones. Her white dress quickly soaked and his denim shorts darkened.
“This water is freezing, Paul,” she whispered to him. He kept her close, his arms wrapped around her. “Don’t you dare let go.”
“I would never, beautiful,” he grinned. (Y/N) could feel his breath tickling her face, cooling the droplets of water that had splashed on it “I’ve got you now, and I’m never planning on letting you go.”
“Is that a threat?” she joked, copying the smile on his face.
“It’s a promise, darling,” Paul said. “It’s a promise.”
He closed the space between them and pressed their lips together. (Y/N) felt sparks running through her body, the feeling of belonging washing over her. This is where she was meant to be. He was who she was meant to be with.
“I love you, (Y/N).”
“I love you more, Paul.”
(Y/N) woke up with a startle, her breathing uneven and heavy. Her whole body was overheated. Her blanket felt too warm. She didn’t understand what that dream meant. More importantly, why it felt so real. She knew she loved Jake, and she didn’t even know Paul. What pull did he have on her that she kept dreaming of him? 
She got up from her bed, going downstairs to get a cup of water. She was startled when she found her sister staring at the sink, the faucet running, and an overfilled glass under it. (Y/N) ran to the sink, turning off the water and putting a rag on her sister’s hand to soak up the water that had run down her arm.
“What’re you doing, Bells?” (Y/N) muttered.
“S-sorry,” Bella stammered finally realizing what she had done. “I didn’t realize.”
“It’s okay,” she sighed. “Why don’t you sit and drink that water? Have you had anything to eat? I can make you a quick sandwich.”
“Uh, sure,” the girl breathed out. “I, uh, overheard you and Charlie.”
“Oh?”
“You two are together?” Bella questioned. (Y/N) was surprised that her sister seemed interested in her life. Rarely was the time she inquired in (Y/N)’s life. “I didn’t know you liked him.”
“You’ve never asked,” she chuckled dryly. “But we’ve just been talking these past few days. Most we’ve done is kiss a few times. Tonight, he asked me to be his girlfriend.”
“Well, that’s nice.” (Y/N) placed a cheese sandwich before her, and Bella started picking at it and placing small bites into her mouth. “I always thought… never mind.”
“What, Bells? What did you always think?” She knew what her sister was thinking. Bella had always known Jake liked him. If she didn’t, she at least had to have an inkling. “That he liked you?”
“I thought so…”
“Well, maybe he did,” she sighed. “But that’s neither here nor there. He’s with me now, and that’s that.”
(Y/N) got up from the dinner table, leaving Bella by herself. She had no idea where that conversation was going, and she didn’t want to see where it would go. Her whole life she’d been second to Bella. To their parents, their friends – though, they wouldn’t notice – to Jake. This was the first time she felt she was being put first, and Bella wasn’t going to take it from her. Not this time. As much as she loved her sister, it was time to put herself first.  
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