mistletoe because i said so

Under the Mistle- Holly?

Word Count: 840

Genre: fluff, humour

Warnings: none


Dan orders mistletoe. At least, that’s what he thinks. However, Phil knows better.

A/N I wish I could claim that I didn’t post last week so I could make a Christmas fic but I’d be lying. This one’s for the people who don’t know the difference between mistletoe and holly.

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anonymous asked:


“Carl, what’s mist…mistlee…mis-teh-leh-toe?” Judith sounded out the word, looking up from her coloring book.

Carl stopped stoking the fire under the pot of boiling water, looking over at his sister. He craned his neck to see what she was coloring: a holiday-themed book.

“Mistletoe,” he corrected her.

“Mistletoe,” she repeated, rolling the word around in her mouth. “Is that a toe with a missile in it?”

“Uh…no, but that sounds awesome.” He pointed at her, and she beamed. “No, mistletoe is this, uh, plant, like a vine or a flower or…I was never really sure…” He scratched his head. “Anyway, it’s this special plant that, when two people are under it, they have to kiss.”

“That sounds creepy,” Judith remarked flatly. “What if one of the people doesn’t want to kiss the other, but the other person keeps following them around and waving around this plant? Do they have to still kiss ‘em?”

Carl snorted, “No. It’s…” He tried to think of a good way to explain this. “You know the stories that Michonne tells you, about guys giving girls flowers as a way to say that they liked them?”

“Because nothing says love like watching flowers shrivel up and die over time,” Judith said with a deadpan expression.

“Would you let me finish?” Carl said in mock-irritation, swatting her with his hat. She giggled and squirmed away. “It’s kinda like that. Maybe two people end up under the mistletoe, and once they realize it, they decide whether to kiss or not.”

“And if not?” Judith lifted an eyebrow.

“Then they run away,” Carl replied solemnly.

Judith seemed pensive for a moment, sitting up and furrowing her brows. “Why mistletoe though? Why not…” She glanced around the camp at the oak trees that loomed overhead. “Why not oak leaves? Pine cones? What makes mistletoe so special?”

“Because somebody a long time ago said so. I don’t know.” Carl threw his hands up in surrender.

Judith pouted her lips in thought, abruptly got to her feet, and tottered off.

“Where are you going now?” Carl asked.

“I’ve got…stuff…”

Carl frowned. “What kind of stuff?”

“Just…things, okay? Geez!”

Carl picked up her book and crayons for her and didn’t think much of the conversation again until that evening, when, during dinner, Judith crept up behind where Daryl and Carol were eating. She had plucked and tied a Cherokee Rose to a stick and was proceeding to dangle it in the air above the couple’s heads. Maggie spotted her first and snorted against her wrist, and the others soon took notice as well.

“Judith…wrong plant,” Carl teased.

Rick waved a hand, gesturing for him to leave her be.

Carol looked up at the rose contemplatively, and Daryl looked from the flower to Judith, who was beaming and wiggling her eyebrows. Daryl then met Carol’s eyes. She shrugged in a ‘why not?’ gesture, and the two kissed under the ‘mistletoe.’

“Tada! Magic!” Judith chirped.

“I don’t know if it counts after being together for eight years,” Glenn remarked.

“Does too!” Judith chimed, and nobody argued after that.