#Nightmare Before Christmas in five minutes

[hellowyn-llewellyn]

OH YEAH GUYS I GOT THE NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS MONSTER HIGH DOLLS BTW :D !!!

[livwritesstuff]

Steve is home one day with his daughters when he realizes that his oldest, Moe, is ten.

Okay, obviously, he knew she was ten. She’s been ten for a while, as her birthday is in July and it’s now December, and the girls are discussing Christmas as they perceive it in their little girl worlds.

It’s really that Steve realizes that Moe is the same age Erica had been when he’d asked her to climb through air ducts and infiltrate a Russian military base.

It’s a realization that has Steve feeling a little nauseous, because Moe is ten and she’s plotting with her little sisters about how they’re going to stay awake on Christmas Eve to catch a glimpse of Santa (their conspiring has Steve worried for his and Ed’s own role in Christmas Eve and the way it hinges on the girls falling asleep as early as fucking possible), and she’d lost another baby tooth this morning and hasn’t stopped talking about what the tooth fairy might leave for her overnight, and she still sneaks into his and Eddie’s room after nightmares looking for snuggles, and she’s afraid of car washes and bugs, and she still wants to be read to before bed every night.

He’d been struck suddenly by how little Moe still is. Maybe he’s only thinking that because she’s his daughter – his first daughter, at that – but he still looks at that kid’s face and sees the newborn baby who’d made him a dad ten years ago.

He can’t imagine looking at her and seeing someone equipped to take on Erica had been asked to do, never mind actually asking her to do it, which is precisely what Steve had done twenty-five years ago.

It eats at him for the rest of the day.

“Just call her, Steve,” Eddie urges him after Steve brings it up for the sixth time that evening, “You clearly need to air this shit out.”

So Steve calls Erica.

Erica is in her mid-thirties now. She’s a kick-ass lawyer at a private firm in Indiana, and she picks up the phone on the second ring.

“This is Erica,” she says.

“Hey, it’s Steve.”

“What’s up,” she replies, still never one for beating around the bush.

“I just – I need to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For Scoops,” Steve says, “For Starcourt.”

Erica is silent for a while.

None of them really talk about any of that stuff anymore. They’d hashed everything out ages ago, until all that was left behind was the understanding that none of them would ever be able to truly move past it, that there would always be guilt and fear and pain they could never shake.

“Okay?” she finally says, question in her tone.

“I just…” Steve hesitates, “Look – I didn’t get it. I didn’t fully get how fucked up it was. I was the grown up in the situation and I should have put a stop to it but I was stupid and reckless, and now that Moe is ten, I can’t stop thinking about how insane it was for us to even consider roping you into that.”

“I agreed to it.”

“You were a kid.”

“You were a kid,” Erica insists.

“Eighteen isn’t a kid anymore.”

“Say that to me again when Moe’s eighteen and maybe I’ll believe you.”

Steve doesn't have anything to say to that, because Erica is probably right (though only time will tell, he supposes). Their phone call ends only a few minutes later with Erica telling him to go easy on himself and Steve saying he’d try before apologizing one more time.

“You gonna take her advice?” Eddie asks after he’s pulled a begrudging Steve into his arms.

“No,” he tells him, curling into his husband’s side and sticking his nose in Eddie’s neck so he doesn’t have to look him in the eye.

“Figures.”

[finelinevogue]

love, actually

summary - you’ve grown the most comfortable around Harry

pairing: husband!harry x reader

word count: +1.4k

The first time you'd met Harry you pretended to be someone you're not. Not in the sense that you faked a secret identity, but more the way you acted was nothing like your actual self.

He had taken you to a nice restaurant in the centre of New York.

Both of you were sat at the table, under dim lighting and a busy ambience. The whole place smelt of burning wicker candles and fresh food being cooked. Harry had been a true gentleman so far, kissing you on both cheeks upon arrival, helping you take off your coat and pulling out your chair for you. The way he acted made you question your own mannerisms.

Instead of slouching back on the chair to read the menu, you sat uptight and cramped your back instead. Instead of slightly man-spreading, you sat with your legs crossed. Instead of taking out your ugly glasses to read the menu, you squinted to read the words instead.

That was mistake one when a plate of seafood arrived in front of you.

"Y/N, do you want to try some of my burger?" Harry asked politely, but you didn't know whether he was just asking out of kindness and didn't really want to share his food, "I'd love to try some of your seafood. It looks.. Lovely."

"Y/N, do you want to try some of my burger?" Harry asked politely, but you didn't know whether he was just asking out of kindness and didn't really want to share his food, "I'd love to try some of your seafood. It looks.. Lovely."

You didn't really notice the pause between his words because you were too focused on how pretty he looked when he talked, but you said yes regardless and the two of you swapped plates to try each others food. What you didn't realise was that Harry had purposefully asked you whether you wanted to try some of his food because he could tell the moment your seafood arrived that it was your worst nightmare.

He'd never tell you that he actually hated seafood though.

After you'd repeatedly made sure he was okay with swapping foods, you scoffed down, as politely as possible, the rest of his burger. The fries and potato salad were added bonuses.

It was after you'd finished your meal that you regretted putting on such tight trousers. They were squishing your stomach and you wanted nothing more to open the buttons on your trousers to let your food baby breathe, but you were in a very posh restaurant trying to make a good impression on Harry - so button closed it was.

"I've had a good time tonight." Harry smiled at you from across the table, holding his glass of red wine in his hand.

"You have?" You said instantly, the words falling from your lips before you could stop them. "God.. Sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just.. You really had a good time, with me, tonight?" You made yourself flustered trying to recover.

"Hey, Y/N." He reached his hand across the table to intertwine with yours, his thumb very subtly caressing a soft swipe against your skin, leaving butterflies in their wake, "You have been the best part of my evening."

And he left it at that. You thought he'd have picked up on the silly things you'd commented on or actions. Instead, he only looked at you as brightly as the flame from the candles were burning.

Now ten years later, everything had changed.

“Babe!”

“Yeah?” You shouted from the lounge where you were putting on Michael Bublé’s Christmas album onto the surround sound. 

“Shall I take the roasties out?” 

“Um,” You looked down at the timer on your phone. “Five more minutes, then yeah.”

“Okay.” 

You walked into the kitchen to see Harry in his Christmas apron, which covered his Christmas jumper and blue denim Gucci jeans. He had a clip in his hair to make sure his hair didn’t annoyingly fall into his eyes whilst he was cooking. 

Standing a little away from him, you mentally snapped a photo of this moment. Him cooking away and the starting sounds of Michael Bublé echoing through the house. 

He smiled when he caught sight of you. You had left him in charge whilst you went to change into a nicer dinner outfit. It was date night, but the Christmas version and so you had decided to make a Christmas dinner between the two of you and get dressed up just to eat it on the sofa with ‘Love Actually’ playing in the background. 

“You look beautiful, love.” His charm still worked on you after all these years.

“I’m surprised I still fit into these trousers.” You ran your hands down your thighs, before giving Harry a twirl of your outfit. The trousers were the same ones you’d worn on your first ever date with him and the jumper was the perfect Christmas jumper ever purchased. It had a picture of Harry on the front that said ‘All I Want For Christmas Is Harry Styles’ too.

“That jumper is awful.” He laughed, coming over to you to hold you.

“What do you mean?” You laughed back, in fake hurt. 

“At least you got what you wanted.” He winked and you rolled your eyes, snaking your arms around his neck whilst his went around your waist. 

A warm sensation cam over your chest at the anticipation of him leaning down to kiss your warm lips. You hummed a soft laugh when you finally got to taste him on your own lips, scrunching one of your hands a little tighter around the scruff of his neck whilst his hand on your waist held a little stronger. 

You could feel him smiling into the kiss, making you smile back and lose touch with this lips for a moment. 

“Stop smiling and let me kiss you, y’pest.” He told you off.

Both of you regained momentum and were greedy for one another lips. Both of you wanted to taste each other as closely as possible, tilting your heads from side to side as you explored each others soft lips over and over again. 

Then your silly potato alarm went off on your phone, breaking you away from the kiss and reaching to turn it off. Harry cussed the potatoes for ruining you moment together, flushed cheeks, before going back to the oven to get the potatoes out. 

Plating your dinner, you had never piled so much food on a plate before. You couldn’t even tell what was at the bottom, but you didn’t care because you were hungry and you were so excited to get tucked into your first Christmas dinner of the year. Harry’s plate looked very similar to yours, only he had the veggie equivalent of the meat you were having. 

“Y’want another Yorkshire?” Harry asked, holding it with his fingers.

“Obviously.” You said like he was silly to ask, receiving it on your plate with a happy grin.

“Anything for that smile on your face.” He said, before pouring gravy all over both of your plates.

Halfway through eating your dinner you let out an internal burb, no doubt due to the Shloer you were powering through drinking, excusing yourself before resting your half eaten dinner on the table in front of the sofa.

Both of you had cosied up on the sofa, a soft glow from the warm coloured fairy lights and array of candles filling the room, whilst ‘Love Actually’ was playing on the TV. 

“Full?” Harry asked.

“Just need my food baby to breathe for a second.” You said, whilst undoing your trouser button and zip until your little food pouch was showing. 

“Aww. What are we calling them?” He prodded your stomach, making you laugh from how cold his fingers were against your warm skin.

“The Accident.” You replied making Harry laugh.

After you’d finished dinner and made it halfway through the movie, you left your plates on the table and you’d collapsed into Harry’s lap. Your head laid on his legs comfortably, whilst he kept a hand ahold of your stomach like he was protecting all the contents of it. He too had to open his jeans button and you had poked fun at his snail trail that started at his belly button. 

“Oh this bit breaks my heart every time.” You pouted, watching Emma Thompson act perfectly on screen.

“I would never do that to you.” Harry promised, pushing his hand off your forehead and back through over hair, leaning down to leave a quick but loving kiss to your lips - even if you did both taste of a roast dinner.

“I know. And neither would I.” You promised him too with a small smile.

“Think we love each other too much.” 

“I agree.” You nodded. “We make a very good pair. We definitely make the best, most stomach-filling Christmas dinner. And we always have the best evenings together.”

“And you’ll always be my favourite part of it all.”

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 10

PREVIOUS

He calls his grandma to thank her for everything. She promises him that if anything keeps him from her on Christmas she’ll just make her way over to South Carolina to see him. “Maybe I can give that boy who is bullying you a piece of my mind!” She says and he loves her for it even if the thought of Andrew vs. his 70 year old grandma gives him heart palpitations that have nothing to do with the five hour energy he just slammed when no one was looking.

(He had eaten turkey because Abby had asked if he didn’t like it when he had forgone the white meat being passed around. She looked SAD so he just piled the dark meat onto his plate (at least it has less tryptophan) trip and now he needs to counteract the turkey. He could not afford to be sleepy on the impending car ride.)

He lets her know that everyone likes her pie and Abby had been overjoyed when he informed her that his gran always attaches a recipe card to the bottom for any pie in transit / for public consumption. (This is a woman who has been asked enough that she has the confidence to assume).

He gets off the line and feels the 5 hour energy kick in when Captain Neil appears out of nowhere next to him and he thinks he strains something when he resists the flinch his rapidly beating heart almost forces him into. “What language was that?” He asks.

“Polish.”

“You really do know a lot of languages. Just like your friend said.”

DANGER. DANGER. DANGER.

“Not that many.” DEFLECT DEFLECT DEFLECT “When are we heading out to Columbia?” DAMMIT

Captain Neil blinks but smiles, “We’ll be heading out in a little bit. Abby’s packing us leftovers. Too bad there’s no pie left. Do you think we could make it at the house? Andrew really liked it.” Neil says.

Pie is a safe topic. Pie will not betray him. Also if Andrew wants pie then he can’t kill FF until FF makes it and, perhaps, the pie will buy him a few extra days of mercy from his executioner.

“We can try. The secret ingredient is a grandma’s love though.” He says because it’s on the recipe card. It’s the most important ingredient in the whole pie. It’s what can keep a pie warm across a country. “Gran always says whipped cream can be used as a substitute though.” he says.

Captain Neil blushes.

DAMMIT WHY? WHY BRING UP THE WHIPPED CREAM?

“Well, we’ll have to pick some up from the store.” Captain Neil manages.

FF blanks his face as best he can and nods but gets up his heart beating too fast to remain seated. “I’ll be outside.” He says because he needs to walk around in some circles while he can. The car ride to Columbia is going to be a nightmare in general but especially since he slammed the five hour energy.

Kevin is the reason for the hold-up and the reason that FF gets 80 more laps around the house. He’s reminding them that they can’t stop exercising just because it’s a break gesturing to himself and the 20 minutes of squats that he just did to burn off the pie and then to FF who passes a window for the 10th time since this conversation started “See FF is keeping up with his fitness. Be more like him.”

Wymack eventually drags Kevin out of the house and into his car since they’re spending the break together. He flashes FF a thumbs up as FF passes and FF (unaware as always but great at mimicking social cues) gives him a thumbs up back.

It’s then that they get into the car. FF (as is the way of the world) is sitting bitch with Aaron and Nicky on either side of him.

Captain Neil is up front and starts to play some music. Both Nicky and Aaron are conked out before they even reach the entrance to the interstate. They have also slumped onto FF with Aaron asleep on his shoulder and Nicky drooling into his hair.

“You can just shove them off.” Andrew says.

“It’s fine.” FF says reminiscing about the last time he’d had something like this.

20 minutes later it’s not fine because the five hour energy is definitely kicking in but it would be so rude to move and wake Nicky and Aaron up. Nicky is probably tired because he came to check on FF five different times the night before and kept dragging him away from whatever Saw movie he was taking notes on and Aaron ate a LOT of white meat so he’s filled to the brim with tryptophan.

But he thinks he’s about to vibrate out of his skin.

He closes his eyes to try and breathe through this when.

“Smith said that we can try and recreate his grandma’s pie. We’ll just have to do a grocery run tomorrow.” Captain Neil says in Russian.

“It was good pie.” Andrew returns in the same language.

“He said that the secret ingredient is grandmotherly love.”

“It was on the recipe card. It said for best results be sure to add throughout the baking process.”

“His grandma said whipped cream was a good replacement. That it goes great with the pie.”

Uh-oh

FF knows that tone.

FF has fled across campus, the bus, the dorm room, and (one one notable occasion) the locker room when he has heard that tone coming from Captain Neil.

“Pie isn’t the only thing it will enhance the flavor of.” Andrew says back and FF feels as the car speeds up.

FF wishes that Andrew would just hurry up and crazy murder him already. He’d take the reverse bear trap over this psychological torture. He wants to pull up his phone and read if the Geneva Conventions list this as a war crime.

NEXT

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[welcomehomeincorrectquotes]

Wally: Barnaby is taking a bath in my bathroom. Which is fine. Except for how five minutes later I hear him start singing to the tune if "What's this?" from "the Nightmare before Christmas" about the various products I keep in my bathroom.

Barnaby: *singing loudly off screen* What's this, what's this? There's products everywhere! What's this? I think it goes in hair!

Wally: ...

[lincolndjarin]

my sister lives in the attic.

main masterlist

joel miller x reader

warnings : angst, death, child loss, grieving, denial

a/n : i've never written something like this but i'm in a weird place and this idea has been following me for quite some time now so i decided to take a few minutes and write it, i'd love some feedback on it since this style is kinda new to me !!

He didn’t like to talk about his children. 

“Do you have kids?”

“Two daughters.” Was all he said.

That’s what he had told you on your first date. He was so abrupt about it that you didn’t ask about them again, instead opting to wait until he told you on his own terms. 

On your fifth date he told you that Ellie got in trouble for cursing in gym class that day. 

On your seventh date he told you Sarah was away at college, and that he missed her terribly and wished she would visit. 

On your eighth date he told you that Ellie made him a card for his birthday. He even brought it over to your house to show you. It was a drawing of the two of them floating through space. The inside said:

i love our family to the moon and back!

You didn’t ask why Sarah wasn’t included in the crayon family portrait. 

On your ninth date he showed you the photos in his wallet. A baby girl with her curly dark hair up in two little buns sitting in the sand. The one below it was a girl who looked to be about five, giving the camera a toothy grin, standing next to Joel in a courthouse, holding up her adoption papers. 

On your twelfth date he finally invited you over for dinner, you happily accepted. 

Joel introduced you to an extremely energetic seven year old. He gave you a tour of the house (only the first floor.) and you smiled at every family photo hung on the walls.

“I invited Sarah but she couldn’t make it, she’s got midterms but I’m sure you’ll meet her soon.” He tells you before leaving you with Ellie, going to pick up a pizza for the three of you. 

Ellie tells you about school, about her best friend Riley, and about playing soccer in the backyard with her father. 

And then she says the strangest thing. 

“My sister lives in the attic.”

“Excuse me?” You had given her a confused smile but she carried on as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“My sister, Sarah, lives in the attic.” She said it so plainly. Taking your hand and dragging you up the stairs, pointing up at a staircase on the second story that led to a singular door, pink paint peeling from it with little wooden letters spelling out SARAH, the sight of it put you on edge. 

“We shouldn’t go up there honey, let’s wait until your father gets back.” You had put up a bit of resistance but she ran ahead of you, you watched helplessly from the bottom of the stairs as Ellie pushed open the door and ran inside. 

“It’s okay, dad says I can talk to Sarah whenever I want as long as I don’t touch her stuff.” She had shouted, already inside. Despite every nerve in your body singing for you to go back downstairs and wait, you knew better than to leave a child alone so you climbed the steps and entered the room. 

Nothing strange, nothing frightening, no secret nightmare. 

When you look around all you see is a room, albeit a child's room but a room nonetheless. 

Ellie sits in a love seat, suddenly repeating everything she told you about her day to seemingly no one as she stares at Sarah’s bookshelf. You walk around, trying to recall when Joel said she left for college. Everything is covered in a thick layer of dust but strangest of all this is clearly not a teenager's room. 

This is a childs room, for a girl about Ellie’s age. Every photo on her desk doesn’t show her older than what looks to be twelve. 

“Ellie, honey, when you said your sister lived in the atti-'' She doesn’t stop talking from behind you, ignoring you entirely but her words stop you dead in your tracks. 

“Dad keeps saying you’re coming home for Christmas but he also said you’d be home for his birthday, he keeps telling me how much we’re gonna get along but I just tell him we already get along fine.” 

It sends a chill up your spine, you aren’t superstitious but in a moment of weakness when you turn a part of you almost expects to see a ghost.

Of course that isn’t the case.  

When you look Ellie remains in the loveseat, seemingly the only thing that isn’t covered in dust up here. Her eyes trained on the highest shelf, when you follow her line of sight all of it starts to make sense. The shelf is covered in books and toys and trinkets, all of which are showing signs of age and disuse but the top shelf is neat and tidy, it even looks recently dusted. 

Only two things are on the top shelf. 

A beer bottle with the label ripped off, a lilac sits within it, a few stray petals lay in a halo around the makeshift vase. 

And a dark purple urn. 

You struggle to swallow the lump in your throat, unable to tear your eyes from it. 

“One time Uncle Tommy told me she was an angel.” She whispers when you stare in silence for far too long. “Dad got so mad we didn’t see Tommy for like a month after that and when we did see him again everything went back to normal.”

“What happened to her?” You can’t stop yourself from asking, she only shrugs in response.

“It was before I lived here, I never ask, I’m worried he’ll send me to live with Uncle Tommy if I do.” 

“Oh, honey.” You crouch down beside her, she hugs her knees to her chest. “He wouldn’t do that.” 

“I’m still not gonna ask. He doesn’t talk about her that much, only when someone else brings it up or if I ask to come up here to see her.” You nod slowly before holding your arms out to her, she wraps herself around you and you carry her to the door, eager to leave the tomb you’ve stumbled upon. “Bye Sarah.” She mumbled against your shoulder as you closed the door, the sentiment sent shivers down your spine. 

When Joel returns with the food it’s as if you never were in the attic at all.

Ellie runs to him, wrapping herself around his leg as he laughs, trying to kick her loose. 

When the three of you sit down for dinner she never says a thing to him about any of it. 

She asks if she can go to her friends house after dinner, their mom is going to take them to the arcade, Joel grins at you, asking if she was good while he was gone and you put on a smile, nodding. 

“Then you can go.” He ruffled her hair before she ran off to get her backpack. When it was just the two of you he took your hand, mentioning something about catching a movie while she’s gone, you nodded absentmindedly when he gave your hand a gentle squeeze you finally looked him in the eye. 

You’d never noticed it before but there is a permanent sorrow behind the dark expanse of his irises, as if he’s never really happy, he’s sometimes just less sad. “Everything okay?” He asked. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” 

You don’t bring up the attic at the dinner table.

Or in the car.

Or at the movies. 

He just needs time, you tell yourself. Maybe he’ll tell you on your thirteenth date, maybe it won’t be until your hundredth date. Until then you won’t tell him that you know who lives in the attic and you’ll nod with faux disappointment when he says that his eldest won’t be home for the holidays this year. 

And you’ll take extra care of him on days when he comes home with fresh lilacs.

a/n : yeah so uhhhhhhhhhh tell me how y'all liked this haha idk if i'll write anything like this again it was just sort of something for me to vent with, hope everyones having a good day and thank y'all for reading <3

[sempersirens]

a bird in your teeth, epilogue

masterlist

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: mentions of past trauma, ptsd, nightmares. so much fluff

a/n: a little palate cleanser. sun bleached flies joel is on the naughty step rn

December 24th, (five years later)

God only knows, what I'd be without you...

The TV turned black as the credits rolled, only the warm flickering lights from the Christmas tree left to illuminate the room.

You took a steady breath in through your nose and locked eyes with Sarah, both suppressing a laugh before simultaneously turning to finally face Joel, who had been trying to silently bite back small sobs for the past forty-five minutes.

"How you holding up, boys?" Sarah teased, lovingly.

"You girls are damn evil. Pickin' such an emotional film on Christmas Eve."

"It's heartwarming!" You interjected.

"My heart is feelin' a lot of things right now but warm ain't one of 'em." Tommy murmured, wiping his eyes with the back of his sweatshirt.

"I just can't believe neither of you had ever watched Love Actually."

"May 'swell have, the number of times I've seen you two watchin' it, all damn year round," Joel said.

"Keep talking like that, Miller, and I won't make you an Irish coffee." You warned, earning oooh's from Tommy and Sarah.

You pulled yourself off the sofa and moved to the kitchen, proving your threat entirely empty. As you pottered around the room, collecting all of the ingredients for the drinks, you listened to the noise of the three people you loved most in the world simply existing in the room next to you. The haze of their laughter mixed with the song still warbling through the TV was softened by the wall separating you, a honeyed prayer just for you.

Somehow, life kept moving after that night. Everything thereafter seemed to be measured in the passing of time. Four days for your lip to heal. Three weeks for you to return Daisy's calls. Seven months until you could stop taking the long route to pick Sarah up and drive down that street again. Two years for the panic attacks to stop, for good. Five years, and counting, for an uninterrupted night's sleep.

Two months passed before your tenancy was over, but you had woken beside Joel each morning nonetheless. Sometimes, before the others had risen for the day, you would creep down the stairs and pour yourself a cup of coffee, sit on the porch, and look at that house across the street. You would watch the lights slowly turn on, see the silhouette of life taking shape. A young family had taken over your lease, and it comforted you to know another life was being nurtured within those walls.

Neither you nor Joel had ever discussed what happened that morning in that apartment. And you didn't need to know; you were content with the understanding you both did what you needed to go on. Call it closure.

"What's goin' on in that head of yours, pretty girl?" You felt his chest pressing against your back, his arms leaning on either side of your body, entrapping you against the counter.

His face nuzzled in the curve of your neck, breath tickling your hair against your skin.

"Just wondering if you're on the nice list this year." You turned to face him, staring up through your lashes at the man you love.

"That so? We've got about," he checked his watch, "two hours until midnight. M'sure I can do enough to make it on each of your nice lists for the next twenty years."

"You're planning on keeping me around for that long? Maybe I'll have a love affair with a real cowboy." You teased.

"Good luck gettin' him to watch a Hugh Grant film with ya."

You rested your hands on his face, using your thumb to trace his cheek lightly.

"How did I get so lucky?" You smiled, shaking your head softly in disbelief.

There had always been a surplus of love inside you, even when you were little. Throughout your life, you had poured it into the wrong people, time and time again. Belittled, taken for granted, chastised. Even though the love remained, you had grown to fear it. It would be like riding an escalator and instinctively grabbing the handrail, but being zapped by an electric shock. Each time thereafter, your hand would hesitate in reaching for the supportive grip. Sometimes it would tentatively hover above, trying to gage the sting of electricity a few millimetres away.

But loving Joel came so easy. Everything about him made you want to tear yourself open and offer him everything you had, everything you ever had been, and all you ever would be. You would wake in the night simply craving the feeling of his skin against yours. And every single time you reached out to him, even in his sleep, he would pull you in.

From the other room, an old Christmas song hummed through the walls.

Merry Christmas, baby / Sure did treat me nice...

"I should be the one askin' that question, darlin'." His right hand flexed in and out of a tight fist, the same way it did when he felt a bout of anxiety rise in his chest.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" You asked, concern digging itself into the furrow of your brows.

"I'm no good at this, you know that."

"No good at what, Joel?"

He pulled away from you slightly, lowering himself onto one knee, suppressing the groan you knew he desperately wanted to release at the tightness of his back and knees.

"My sweet girl, I will never understand why y'picked me. Out of all the men in this damn world, even Hugh Grant, I get to be the one who calls you mine."

"Joel..."

"I don't know much, but I know that I need t'spend the rest of my life by your side. And I need you by mine. Would you do me the honour of being my wife?"

"Oh my god, yes! Of course, I will, Joel."

Joel slipped the ring he had presented from a small box in his back pocket onto your finger. His smile showed off the creases by his eyes that you often wished you could dive into and engulf yourself in each feeling that caused them to deepen.

"Get up, you idiot. Your poor back. I don't want to be pushing you around in a wheelchair just yet." You laughed into his kiss, your bodies merging together like it was all they had ever been made to do.

"Can we come in yet?" Sarah called from around the corner.

"Yes! Come in, both of you." You replied, cheeks wet and aching from the smile etched into your face.

"No chance of those Irish coffees, I guess?" Tommy smirked, you softly clipped him round the back of the head before suffocating him into a hug. "Welcome to the family, Mrs Miller."

Merry Christmas, honey / Everything here is beautiful, I love you, baby / For everything that you give me.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Alright according to the fandom, the movies that have messed with Sephiroth’s head because he projected too much were:

Bambi (dead mom)

Kung Fu Panda 2 (dead mom)

Tangled (abusive parent)

Lilo and Stitch (alien experimentation)

Nightmare Before Christmas (monster experimentation)

The Little Mermaid (human world fixation)

We must find him a comfort film immediately!!

Hey maybe The Lion King! No dead moms in that, and it’s not like Seph had a dad/dad figure that he los—wait a minute.

Ok…Finding Nem—nope, the mom dies in the first five seconds.

I don’t know anymore

ANGEAL HELP

*Angeal places a nice selection of horror movies in front of Sephiroth*

Angeal: We're changing genres buddy. Choose.

Sephiroth: Alright. The first one is....Orphan.

Angeal:

Sephiroth: We also have....Alien...

Angeal:

Sephiroth: And also....Mama.

Angeal:

[yourstartreatment]

jealous girl

summary: you’re jealous

warnings: jealousy, mention of weed, mention insecurity about reader’s body, description of bodies, angst (?)

⭑

the party you were attending wasn't all that boring, but you obviously didn't know everyone. you and alex were invited by miles, one of your closest friends, on an occasion before christmas.

what you thought was one of the, perhaps most enticing parties of your life, soon turned into a slow nightmare.

you knew when charm alex had, and of course it had hit you, too. alex could have all the girls at his feet, and you knew it.

you dispersed into the crowd, when he went to say hello to a couple of his friends and you stayed to have your drink in the corner of the living room, not that you minded, but you didn't particularly enjoy social interactions.

when you then went looking for him after about ten minutes, you saw him and saw him with a couple of girls around, and you felt an emptiness inside.

you couldn't help yourself.

you weren't exactly the jealous type, so much less of his exes — who were the sweetest people in the world actually — but that situation was stranger for you.

she was tall, blond, and really skinny, looking like his ideal girlfriend, and that probably made you feel worse.

you sighed, then downed your drink in one gulp and immediately the familiar feeling of heaviness hit you.

your eyes slid to him again, the two girls — the other had red, curly hair, and a body with killer curves — laughed and touched his body.

you felt bad, but really bad.

you made your way down the hallway, couldn't look at that scene anymore, climbed the stairs, and finally reached the door to miles’ studio, where you had spent so much time while he and alex were composing.

you closed the door behind you and let go a sigh. “fuck” you whispered, slid down the door until you were sitting on the floor and then ran a hand through your hair.

after a few minutes even the air in the room was getting stuffy, you got up, opened the window and pulled a cigarette out of your bag.

you quietly had permission to smoke in miles's study, because the three of you did it a better of times, and even smoked something more thought out, like weed.

you then tossed the cigarette into the ash tray and sat down on the soft couch. you didn't know what the situation was like downstairs, but you were almost afraid to see it, so you didn't move.

you didn't know how much time had passed, but at two o'clock dawn, you looked up at the clock and saw that it was already late.

you got up and closed the window, then left the room. you passed among drunk people and headed for the kitchen, grabbed a glass and filled it with water.

you stiffened when someone wrapped their arms around your waist, but then you recognized alex's strong scent.

“my dear,” he said to greet you, then placed a kiss on your neck, usually it would have caused chills, but not this time.

“hey...” you whispered, you knew your tone was unfailingly cold, but it was as if you didn't decide it and it came out automatically.

“are you okay?” he asked, and you nodded against his chest, turned to face him, you were distant and could feel it.

he nodded in return and placed a kiss on your forehead. “I'll get the coats,” he said, making a small gesture with his head, and then went to the room next to the living room to get your coats.

within minutes you found yourselves walking in the cold night air, it was never too cold in los angeles though.

you and miles lived really close to each other, five minutes apart. the silence was so deafening between you that only your breaths could be heard; there was a kind of tension that there never was between you.

once home, you took off your coat and your dr. martens, and he did the same.

“honey, are you sure you are all right?” he asked you as you went to your room.

“yes, why?” you replied with a sigh, you were both tipsy, but you both held your alcohol really well.

“nothing, just-” he sighed too, “never mind” and smiled at you a little, that smile you always melt at, but not this time.

you changed, dressing in your - his - shirt to sleep, then went to the bathroom to brushing your teeth and removing the light makeup from your face.

alex hadn't gone into the bathroom as he usually did while you were getting ready for sleep; he understood that you wanted space, because it's true that he had taken a good dose of alcohol, but he wasn't stupid. he knew that something had happened to upset you.

you lay in bed, on your side, and then alex joined you. you didn't touch each other, so much as brush against each other, both of you staring at the ceiling.

“y/n?” he called your name, and this only happened during arguments.

“hmm?” you casted a glance at him, but you don't turn around to face him, maybe you didn't have the courage, after all you were worrying and distancing yourself over something really stupid, you knew it too, but I couldn't help it.

“What's going on?” he asked you, you can tell by his tone of voice that he is subtly begging you to tell him what's going on.

“nothing,” you answered him, and to your chagrin, it comes out in a really harsh, almost rude tone.

“stop doing that and tell me what's going on” he had sat down on the bed and so you did the same, rested a hand on your forehead, then the tips of his fingers grazed your lips, later went through your hair.

“It's stupid,” you replied, as if you wanted to cut off the conversation there, but you knew he would never let you.

“whatever you have that makes you feel upset, it's not stupid, okay?” he took your face in his large hands and gave you a kiss on the forehead. “okay honey?” he whispered and you nod.

“when I saw you with those girls—” you began, but alex interrupts with an “oh” hummed, “is my girlfriend by any chance jealous?” he giggled.

you can't help but blush and giggle, because you both know the situation is rather silly.

“yes, I'm jealous, so what?” you smiled and so does he, then he quickly lays you down on the mattress and he positions himself on top of you keeping on his elbows, starting to give you kisses all over your face and so you laugh until you get tired.

alex lies completely on you is so automatically you start stroking his hair. “it's just that when they touched you, I felt bad, because they were clearly your type.” you mumbled.

he sighs, clearly feeling guilty for not giving you attention during the evening, but spending it with those two.

“i'm sorry, love” he whispered raising his hand to caress your cheek, “really” he added.

“it's okay” you smiled, “I love you” you kissed his forehead softly.

“i love you too, light of my eyes” he said leaning his head between your shoulder and neck, you feel his smile against your skin.

a little later you hear his breathing get deeper and realize he has fallen asleep, you continue stroking his hair and fall asleep too.

⭑

reminder: english isn’t my first language and maybe there are few mistakes

anyway, let me know if you liked it 🫶🏻

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Halloween costume party with the Undertale characters!

Undertale Sans - He was supposed to go disguised as Papyrus, but he woke up like five minutes before the party, panicked, grabbed a marker, and wrote Papyrus on his head before teleporting. Papyrus was not impressed. But eh, he did his best. Sans chills all night long, simply keeping company to Toriel while she cooks (and stealing biscuits when she has her back turned). Then once his brother comes back from trick or tricking, he's going to steal candies in his bucket, and Undyne's bucket, and Frisk's bucket. He's the candy tax.

Undertale Papyrus - Him and Sans prepared MONTHS AGO to disguise as each other but of course, Sans came as Sans and ruined everything. Papyrus is so mad. But that won't deter him from going treat or tricking with Frisk and Undyne. He's quite successful even though people keep asking who he's supposed to be. He thought everyone knew Sans??? He's more popular for being a skeleton, and he's not sure if he's supposed to be offended by that or not. Oh well. At least he has a full bucket of candies he worked hard to get, and that Sans immediately dug into as soon as he got home! Papyrus hid the bucket in a high place. He's not proud of that but sometimes being the tall brother has advantages. He then accepts to do a drinking contest with Undyne and regret it when they both find themselves dancing horribly on all the undernet the next day.

Undertale Toriel - She's in charge of the organization of the party, so she's more in the backroom than in the party, just chatting and punning with Sans who is distracting her from work. Eventually, she goes to enjoy the party a little and got tricked by Undyne into a drinking contest. After that... Well... Let's just say she might have forced Sans to dance for three hours straight so much that the skeleton just passed out in her arms and gave up, letting her do what she wants with his body.

Undertale Asgore - He's disguised as Frankeinstein's monsters, but he's not sure painting his fur green was a good idea. Gerson keeps saying it is, and yeah, it looks quite good, but he is worried it's not washable and keeps him from enjoying the party. When he asked Gerson to see the shampoo, he pretended he had no idea where it is, which worried him even more. Spoiler: it's not washable and he spends the next two days at Undyne's and Alphy's place as Alphys tries to find something to save his fur from being entirely shed.

Undertale Undyne - That's the best day ever! She's authorized to scare the shit out of children and no one can say anything, and she's even encouraged to do it! She wants Halloween to be every day of the year! After going treat or tricking and death glaring at all the people refusing to give candies to Frisk and Papyrus so much they found something to give them anyway, they went back to the party where she got bored after ten minutes and decided to organize a drinking contest. She lost the count after an hour, she just remembers dancing with Papyrus. She wakes up with the headache of her life, on Papyrus' back, on the floor (???). Yeah, never again.

Undertale Alphys - She's not a big fan of people randomly knocking at her door to steal her favorite Mew Mew candies from her. Undyne says she bought them for this purpose, but still... That's such a waste! Half of these kids don't even know who is Mew Mew Kissy Cutie! So once Undyne leaves for the party, she locks the door and goes to eat them all watching The Nightmare Before Christmas. Undyne will never know. Except she fell asleep and Undyne and a green (????) Asgore showed up unexpectedly and she couldn't hide the papers fast enough. Oops.

Undertale Frisk - They're having fun, disguised as a vampire! First they went to treat or trick people with Undyne and Papyrus, then they went to the party, when they had to run for their life out of Sans reach who tried to steal their candy. After that, Chara, also disguised as a vampire, decided their disguise was not convincing enough and bite them at the throat to assert dominance. So Frisk bit them back. Chara got mad and they both started to fight until Toriel time out the both of them in a corner. They're just growling at each other from their corner.

Undertale Chara - They think the party is boring and try to spice it up a little by tricking people with an electric buzzer. They managed to trick everyone, except Sans, who acted like he felt nothing which was super upsetting, and that's why Chara decided to antagonize Frisk as revenge. However, after their fight, they notice their bucket of candies is gone. They just cross Sans' eyes, who waved at them. They know it's him. It has to be him. They can't prove it, but they swear they won't stop trying to. Sans is dead.

Undertale Mettaton - He's disguised as himself in his own Halloween movie because who can represent him better than himself? He's determined to win the costume contest and he's playing dirty. He threw "accidentally" pumpkin soup on four contesters costume already and he's not stopping there. If there's no more contesters, there can only be one winner. He keeps training his villain laugh for the final moment someone will call his name and... Papyrus wins. Papyrus wins, not even properly disguised. He finds out later Sans was on the jury. He was the only one actually, as Toriel was too drunk for that. That's cheating! He's scandalized and he won't stop whining all evening about this.

Undertale Gaster - Everyone keeps asking him what he's disguised at and saying he looks really creepy. He's not disguised :( He's going to hide in a corner and sad bloop bloop all night long, wondering why everyone hates him.

Undertale Grillby - He's transformed his establishment into an improvised haunted house and gives candies to the children who survive (and goes fetch the other ones, crying in a corner lol). He's disguised as Jack Skellington, which Papyrus got really confused about when he went to treat or trick him. He's having fun. He loves Halloween.

Undertale Muffet - Business is business, she's not close. And since Grillby's is not selling tonight, she doubled the price of all her Halloween pastries because people will need one, she just knows it. She had to stop giving children candies and then ask them for money after Undyne sent two royal guards to fetch back the money lol. Nice try though.

Undertale Burgerpants - He bought a chainsaw to scare Mettaton. Mettaton gave him a pat on the head, looked at him from head to toe, chuckled, and left. He never felt this insulted his whole life. He's going to traumatize random children in the street. None of them are scared. One even tried to adopt him thinking he was a stray kitty. Why can't he succeed in one thing in his life? He's going to scream.

Undertale Flowey - Toriel put him at the door to make sure the kids take only one candy. He keeps insulting their costumes and bites children's fingers when they take more than one candy. He's having the fun of his life, laughing maniacally and making scary faces that made a bunch of toddlers already. Finally, a holiday that was made for him!

Undertale Gerson - He keeps tricking people. First, he made Asgore green, which was quite a miracle. Next, he made drunk Toriel believe a meteorite was going to crash into the house. And then he made everyone freaked out by pretending to have a soul attack, before jumping suddenly back on his feet and... blocking his back. Except now everyone thinks he's pretending and refuses to help. Please. It hurts...

[judgementdaysunshine]

Can I request a poly! Judgement Day x reader with the prompts "I think something just touched my foot!" and "It's me!" as they're all watching a scary movie and the light goes out.

Oooh

In the dark chaos

Pairing: Judgement Day x Fem reader

Description: While watching horror movies the power goes out leading to chaos between you and your partners

The night is filled with jokes, laughs, some yells and screams, and jumping from the horror movies you and your partners were marathoning for the night in honor of the start of October and as a way to spend time together while off from wrestling for a few days. The five of you started off with IT followed by Sleepaway camp, Friday the 13th, Insidious, Nightmare on elm street, Evil Dead, and had just finished Final Destination when you all started The conjuring laughing at Finn yelling and jumping within the first twenty minutes before all of you slightly jumping from a cut until suddenly everything went dark leading to all of you yelling in fear "Damnit the power's out!" you stay still on the couch hearing Damian get up to go check the breaker and the backup power generator mainly used for the winter and bad storms as you sit between Dom and Rhea as you try to look around but having no luck with seeing anything at all "Guys can any of you see anything?" you jump and yell in fear when something touches and grabs your arm making you fall on the floor "AAAH something grabbed me!" you feel around before pulling back up on the couch "That was me love sorry!" you smack finn landing on his face making rhea laugh as you lay your head on dom's chest while sitting in his and rhea's lap waiting on damian. You hear footsteps as you move from rhea's lap to dom's before jumping at the keys falling off the counter leading to you and dom hiding behind the couch after jumping in fear "Something grabbed my damn foot!" you hear a smack and a stream of curses "That was me dumbass!" suddenly thunder poured making you scream behind the couch while everyone jumped and yell hugging dom as tears flowed down your face "Hey it's okay mi bebita you're safe" you quietly cry against dom as you shake from more loud thunder until suddenly the lights finally came on "Back on guys" damian comes back upstairs only to find a paranoid finn next to the sink, an anxious rhea, a terrified dom behind the couch, and you wrapped in his arms quietly crying "Woah what the hell happened?" he walks to the two of you behind the couch watching as you yell out and grab dom more from the thunder "Come here mi vida" you wrap around damian as you look around anxiously all of you yelling at the jumpscare from the movie still playing "Fuck! All right no more tonight!" you wrap up in your blanket while still laying against damian after all of you went upstairs watching Corpse Bride to settle all your nerves followed by Edward Scissorhands and finally Nightmare before Christmas all of them smiling at your calm childlike state of quiet humming to the music, intense focus on watching the film, and small dances until you were all asleep at the last five minutes.

[monikafilefan]

Jingle Bells and Jealousy 1

I realized I never shared my newest fic I wrote on Christmas Eve here. There’s 2 chapters: 1 in Mulder’s pov and 2 in Scully’s.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Let your heart be light

From now on, our troubles will be out of sight

Mulder scoffs as he draws the final insidious lines onto the smiling image of Santa Claus in front of him.

“Better,” he chuckles wryly.

The black ballpoint’s ink bleeds through the red and white dessert plate where the now new and improved Santa stares up at him. He blows cookie crumbs and remnants of pecan pie off his paper plate to get a good look at his masterpiece. The cookies were bland, but the pie hit the spot.

He feels overdressed and uncomfortable next to coworkers in ugly Christmas sweaters surrounded by tinsel by the pound. Good pie just might be the highlight of the night, Mulder muses sourly.

In a surprising turn of events while wrapping up a post X-File department budget meeting with Skinner this morning, Scully had confirmed that, yes, she was planning to attend the Bureau’s annual Christmas party for the first time in a long time. Mulder almost laughed at her joke — seeing as how they’d both agreed years ago that holiday parties could only serve to further ridicule their spooky department of two — before Skinner boldly stated that he’d hoped to see her there with her plus one. And to Mulder’s utter shock, Scully had blushed, avoided his probing gaze, and nodded. Scully had a date? His jaw had clenched so hard his teeth hurt. From there, Mulder’s plans to spend a quiet Christmas break on his couch with his pretty partner and a carton of Beijing beef had crumbled quicker than the pie crust now littering his lap.

Through the years, we all will be together

If the fates allow

Sinatra croons about fated happiness throughout the Hoover’s reception hall as Mulder slumps further in his seat. He’s only been here a half an hour and already regrets coming. The only plus side is that Diana and Spender are out of town on a case — an X-File, and aren’t here to silently mock his bullpen misery. If Scully hadn’t dropped a last minute bomb about attending this bureaucratic shindig, he sure as hell wouldn’t have either. Should have saved himself the embarrassment, he knows. He should’ve gone for a run instead of stewing in his apartment for three hours before changing his mind and frantically dusting off his tux he didn’t need for front row seats to a waking nightmare cheerfully playing out in front of him.

He isn’t sure his heart can handle what his eyes cannot get enough of: Dana Scully is absolutely gorgeous. Though, she’s always been pretty to him. Even when she emerges from her one star motel room at five a.m., sleepy-eyed and grumpy, rolling her eyes at his new case glee, Fox Mulder is wholly enamored.

But now… Christ. It must be his sorrow kicking him while he’s down again, because Scully has never been more beautiful. The green, form fitting cashmere cardigan looks so good on her with its top two buttons undone and something red and lacy peeking out underneath. It’s festive, flirty. The fine lines of her collarbones rise and fall in time with her shoulders as she sips her wine amongst the crowd. But her luminous appearance is hardly the attribute that attracts him to his partner the most. Her mind, her stubbornness, her heart… all of her has made him fall foolishly and dangerously in love.

And she looks happy without him.

Mulder sighs, sick to his stomach. He doesn’t deserve her attention anyway. His attitude pretty much proved that in the bullpen earlier tonight…

They leave the meeting with Skinner in a blur as Mulder silently reels at the implication of Scully dating, feeling the invisible noose of self-deprecation squeezing tighter.

“I thought you were going to conveniently miss that budget meeting,” Scully comments when they enter the nearly empty bullpen. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Where you, go I go,” he casually admits, trying not to sound as possessive as he feels right now. Because it’s the truth and the promise he’d silently made on his knees as he’d sobbed by her bedside in the Oncology ward.

She huffs a laugh. “Is that an early New Year’s resolution?”

“Not really new.” Mulder flops down in his chair and contemplates further, watching her fiddling with the mess on his tiny desk. He wants to just ask if she’s seeing someone. If she’s finally gotten sick of his shit and moved on, but for the first time in his life, he isn’t sure he wants the truth. “So you’ve decided to attend the Christmas party this year?”

Scully stops stacking files of neglected background checks and gives him a meaningful look. “I have.”

“You don’t think this is just another way to punish us, or you, if you go?” He whispers while pointing a pencil toward Kersh’s office across the hall. “You know how they operate up here.”

“Does enjoying a little Christmas music and conversation really seem like discipline to you?”

“Yes,” he says immediately.

“There’s pie,” she teases, pulling his discarded invitation he never read from the recycling bin and sliding it enticingly across the desk.

As much as he is itching to know more about her party plans, playing cool, calm, and collected feels less desperate. So he feigns disinterest and shrugs, “You know I’m picky about pie.”

Scully cocks her head and crosses her arms. “There’s me.”

“And you’re standing right here like always,” he offhandedly adds, hating his forced indifference more with every dismissive word that rolls off his tongue.

“Like always,” she mumbles. And out of the corner of his eye, he sees her shoulders slump, her arms falling limply to her sides. “Where I go, you go, but not if it includes socializing above subterranean territory?”

Something about the snide way she says that irritates him. Scully’s been just as pissed off about their reassignment to shit duty as he is and has never complained about being in the bowels of the basement with him. Not once.

Whatever reign he’d had on his internal turmoil snaps.

He spins around in his chair and points the pencil at her accusingly. “Am I too much of a loner for you now, is that why you’re bringing a plus one?” he hisses. “A date?”

“Excuse me?” A wave of anger rises within her sea blue eyes. Brow arched, she opens her mouth to rip him a new one he definitely deserves, but then seemingly reconsiders within earshot of others, tilting her head instead. “So what if I am?” she prods, sharp as a scalpel.

It’s unfair, he knows. His agitation and accusation. She’s never mentioned dating anyone before. Has never given him a reason to ask if she was, but the sudden white-hot flare of jealousy in his chest hurts more than her “oh brother” response to his recent love confession than he could have imagined.

Scully is staring at him like she wants to shove him against a wall and choke him with his tie. Mulder’s gut twists.

He tosses the pencil and stands. “Scully, I’m sorr-”

She holds up a halting hand.

“I’m going to the party tonight, Mulder.” Her voice is soft, a little shaky. “With or without you.”

Before Mulder can say another word, Scully turns on her heel and walks out of the bullpen, leaving him alone with a lump in his throat.

Now, Mulder’s heart hammers in time with the beat of the “Little Drummer Boy” echoing off the Bureau’s walls.

He had thought he could handle this soul-crushing feeling of heartbreak when he’d decided to come. He’d told himself he could push his own feelings aside for Scully’s happiness and show up to prove to her he’s really not a hermit intentionally holding her back in life. To remind her that he will do any thing for her. But now, confronted with the reality of her hand caressing another man’s forearm in a room riddled with mistletoe, he finds the sight of it is like a tabloid headline at a gas station checkout people are too ashamed to buy but can’t help indulging in a quick flip-through. Goddammit! His fists clench along the snowflake tablecloth. Like a train wreck, he cannot look away.

“Devil horns on Santa Claus, Mulder?” A.D. Skinner scolds wearily from over his shoulder.

Mulder startles and tears his eyes away from the woman he loves. He should have known he couldn’t wallow at a party in peace. “It’s Krampus, sir.”

“Looks about as cheerful as you do,” Skinner retorts.

Mulder pushes his defiled plate aside. “If I hear one more song about old Saint Nick, I might stuff my ears with marshmallows.”

“As much as you may deserve it after blowing the quarterly budget; again, a party isn’t a punishment, Mulder. Even when you’re off the files.”

The increasing ache in Mulder’s chest disagrees.

“You sound like Scully.”

“Then maybe you should listen.” Skinner nods toward Scully at the opposite side of the room. She’s smiling brightly as the same good-looking agent with dark skin and a gleaming grin hands her a glass of wine. “Agent Scully seems to be enjoying herself.”

“She deserves it,” Mulder mumbles moodily, doing a piss-poor job of ignoring the green-eyed Grinch gnawing a hole in his gut. And it doesn’t make it any less true, his closest, most cherished friend deserves the best.

“She’s said the same thing about you, you know,” Skinner huffs and shakes his head. The twinkling lights decorating the reception hall reflect off his boss’s scalp like a skin-colored disco ball. “Go on, show your tux a good time. Drink some eggnog, make some bullpen buddies. You know, live a little.”

“Dunno, Skinman. Sounds like a bad idea to me.”

“Jesus, Mulder.” Skinner reaches over and snags one of the bundles of mistletoe taped to the hall’s wall and shoves it into Mulder's palm. “Here, consider it my gift to you.”

“Uh,” Mulder blinks. “You shouldn’t have, sir.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Skinner rolls his eyes and pokes at the plastic flower. “For your partner. You know, the woman who — by some miracle, insists on defending you at every turn over the last six years. The same woman I overheard decline multiple dance offers already because of you.”

“How much punch have you had, sir? Because I saw Tom Colton pour a bottle of Jim Beam in there earlier.” Still, his hopeful eyes scan the crowd in search of Scully’s beckoning ones. But her back is turned, her date brazenly tucking a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. Mulder’s heart sinks to his shoes. “She couldn’t have said that about me.”

“Does she really have to?” Skinner asks incredulously.

Mulder tsks and flicks a stray chocolate chip across the table. “Considering she’s here with someone else and has ignored me since I walked in, I’d say so.”

“Well, even I know when your partner’s annoyed with you. More than usual, anyway.” Mulder can only shrug at the big man’s statement. He’s not wrong. “You didn’t tell her you were coming, did you?”

“No, I wasn’t planning to show up at all. Not until-” Mulder stops and groans, his last vestige of hope fading faster than his will to be here.

“Until you were you and jumped to conclusions without supporting evidence? Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“The supporting evidence is currently palming my partner’s back,” Mulder grumbles under his breath as dark thoughts invade his brain. “You heard her in your office,” he says loud enough for Skinner to hear this time. “She’d planned to bring a date before I even knew she was coming.”

Skinner side eyes him. “How do you know she wasn’t talking about you?”

Mulder ponders that prospect as the festive music makes his head pound. He and Scully are in an emotional stalemate as of late. Both treading lightly, trying not to hurt each other, and he fears he's doing a shit job of it. It’s been a domino of disasters between Antarctica and his heated hallway confession, being booted from the files, the Diana debacle, and with Kersh breathing down their necks more and more has undoubtedly tugged hard on their tethered partnership. Mulder would be lying if he said he isn’t worried about losing her more than ever.

“Look, Scully and I are friends,” he responds solemnly. “Best friends. And yeah, I… well, you seem to already know,” he admits in defeat. Somehow, Mulder isn’t embarrassed to confess the unplatonic pull toward his partner to Skinner. His endless love for Scully is practically screaming at this point. “But I’m me. And she…”

“You’re too smart to be this stupid,” Skinner mutters, exasperated.

“Hey,” Mulder scoffs. “She has a date who looks to be the exact kind of man her family would love to see sweep her off her feet. Anyway, I don’t ever want to be the reason she can’t have what makes her happy.”

“For Christ’s sake, Mulder,” Skinner leans down close. “Last month Agent Scully put her ass — and mine — on the line without a second thought to rescue yours from the Bermuda Triangle for a reason. And that’s just one of the recent stunts she's pulled that could’ve cost her her job, and her life. The crazy thing is, I don’t think she cares as long as you’re by her side in the end.”

Mulder clears his rapidly thickening throat to speak, but Skinner shoots him his Shut The Hell Up And Listen look.

“And you’re sulking?” Skinner continues, chuckling to himself. “I know you’re angry about your reassignment. Rightfully so, but now is not the time to show it. You’ve gone head to head with Cancer Man, jumped off a bridge and onto a moving train — and whatever other insane things you’ve done behind my back, let alone Kersh’s, so I know you’re brave enough to haul your ass across this room and enjoy yourself.”

Mulder can’t help but smirk. “Now that’s a pep talk.”

Skinner loosens his candy cane striped tie as his eyes search the crowded room.

“I’ve never known two people so irritatingly stubborn in my life. Consider this my gift to you. Go ask Agent Scully to dance, and apologize for… well, everything, and use that mistletoe for God’s sake.” He slaps a heavy hand on Mulder’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “She’s waiting for you to pull your head out of your ass. Don’t blow it.”

Mulder’s mouth hangs open as the A.D. saunters off through the crowd with an unusual pep in his step. If Mulder didn’t know better, he’d think his boss just offered him fatherly advice. He scrubs his hands over his eyes and catches a familiar flash of red hair across the room, feeling a rush of renewed bravery take hold. The big man is right. What the hell is he doing torturing himself instead of seeking out the reason he’s come here?

He wipes the crumbs from his lap and weaves his way through the throng of buzzed and festive Feds. It looks like Kris Kringle threw up Christmas itself here. There are decorations everywhere. As Mulder rounds a corner to follow Scully out into the hallway, an upbeat song blares through the speaker near his ear.

Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock

Jingle bells chime in jingle bell time

A group of women in red velvet and green lace bump into him and ask him to dance, tell him how good he looks in a tux, but Mulder doesn’t care. Not when Scully is fifteen feet in front of him, talking awfully close with the man Mulder now recognizes as another new agent in the lab. Her handsome, science nerd date with his hands gently cupping Scully’s arms, smiling sweetly at her as she nods up at him. Mulder freezes. With breath caught in his chest, he watches by the wayside in horror as the man seemingly leans down and presses a lingering kiss to Scully’s upturned lips.

What a bright time, it's the right time

To rock the night away

Mulder’s heart nearly stops.

An explosion of emotion flares in his gut. Frustration, sadness, disappointment… Anger. Anger at himself, at the lucky bastard kissing his one in five billion. He grits his teeth, swallows hard against the molten burn of it all, and turns around before Scully sees the misery on his face.

Mix and a-mingle in the jingling feet

That's the jingle bell

Maybe this is what was supposed to happen tonight: fate telling him he deserves whatever shitty cards he’s dealt. But fuck, he loves her. He loves her fiercely and wants her to be happy. Whether it’s with him, or someone else, it shouldn’t matter as long as she’s living a life she chooses. A life she deserves.

It shouldn’t matter, but goddammit, it does.

So Mulder tamps down tears, and walks away.

That’s the jingle bell

He stalks out of the hall and bursts his way through the double doors, relieved to escape into the snow covered streets. He frantically searches his pockets for his car keys when his fingers get caught on the mistletoe’s hard plastic petals. Instantly, his nose stings and eyes water. He’s not sure if it’s from the pain of his heart shattering or the icy December air. He doubts it matters.

He doubts anything does, anymore.

That’s the jingle bell rooock

[spicyclover]

Ultimatum | Part four

Summary: You give Charles an ultimatum. His apartment or you.  

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four | Part five

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING: All the information in this text is pure fiction, and the names and addresses are strictly fictive. I’m not a lawyer also, so I’m sorry if the procedure isn’t exact or conventional. Please bear with me.

It was only on the morning of Christmas Eve, the 24th, that you received a notification from your lawyer.

You opened your email, and what you saw left you speechless. 

Y/n Y/L/N

24 Av. de la Costa

Monte-Carlo, Monaco, 98000

December 24th 2022

To the honourable avocat 

Mr.Charles Leclerc applies for full custody of the child he made with Y/n Y/L/N. At the child's birth, he applied for full custody due to the unstable actions of the named companion. He asks for a no permission for the mother to have contact with the child once it is born. This motion is under inspection by Judge Carpinelli. He asks the child's mother to report to the court of Monaco for a session on 24 January. Meanwhile, a request to contact the doctor in charge of the pregnancy and in progress. Mr. Charles Leclerc also requests access to the accused's address to obtain the necessary documents for this procedure. Given the information above, my client is asking the court to order the child to live with him full-time without authorized contact with the mother. He also requests compensation for the emotional damage your client put him through. 

Sincerely  Lawyer Felipe Rossi.  

“What the fuck?” You gasp, trying to understand what's in front of you. 

You read the email several times before you understand what it means. He wants to take away your parental rights. “How can he do that?” The little device that control your level of stress starts going on. 

“Honey, what’s going on?” Question your mother worried about your sudden change of mood and the biping starting.

You don’t have the strength to speak and give her your laptop. She takes several minutes to process what she’s reading. “How could he do that?”

“He’s asking for full custody.” She mumbles under her breath. 

“He can’t do that.” Your voice breaks, trying to make sense of this whole situation. 

You didn’t think it would go that far. You suddenly feel betrayed and out of control. All your choices come back to you and all the conversations you’ve had with him, too.

“Well, apparently, he can.” Your mother adds given her husband the computer for him to read. “Since you refuse to let him be the father.”

“I do not deny that he is the father; I just don’t want to be around him right now.”

“Will you let him be around when the baby is born?” Ask your mother. 

“I... I don’t know. He hurts me, mom.” You burst into tears. 

“I know. But he’s powerful, and he has a lot of contacts.”

“Oh, my god...” This situation is going out of control, and your breathing quickens. This whole thing is starting to become a nightmare, and you didn’t think he was capable of that much cruelty.

A panic attack invades you, and you start to hyperventilate, unable to calm down. You begin to get dizzy, and your parents try to help you, at least they can, but impossible. How can he do that to you? After all, he did. He’s the one who slept with that girl. He’s the one who didn’t listen to you. He’s the one who didn’t want your comfort. He’s... he’s... horrible.

You start walking like a lion in a cage, your breathing gets overwhelmed, and you faint. The bipping going crazy. 

Charles can’t believe what he just did. All his dark thoughts and those around him encourage him to take up this voice. He knows it’s wrong, and he’s the wrong one. Why is he doing this? He doesn’t even know himself. Everyone’s rocking in his head, and he can’t back down.

The letter was sent, and his lawyer was notified. A sense of shame takes hold, and he can’t even look at himself in the mirror in his lawyer’s waiting room.

You wake up an hour later and calm down. Your thoughts gather, and you manage to sort without being overwhelmed. You gradually regain control of yourself. You feel your little girl agitating in your belly and caressing it distractedly. Feeling her close to you reassures you.

You find yourself alone in your room looking out the window at the seagulls flying. The sound of the ocean soothes you and you feel your tension return. The little bip machine the doctor gave you on your last visit to control your stress is slowing down again. The bip stops and you go downstair. 

You decided to call him on your mother's cellphone.

“Hello?” You hear his voice for the first time in weeks, and tear fills your eyes. “Hello? Who’s this?”

“Charlie...?”

“Y/n? It’s you?”

“Charlie, why do you do this to us?”

“Mon Dieu, babe, where are you? Are you okay?”

“Why do you keep doing this to us?” You cry on the phone, unable to breathe correctly and you device going on again. 

“Amour, where are you? Are you alone? What’s that bip? Are you in danger?” He asks panicking a little. 

“You hurt me, and I have to pay the consequence. You can’t do that to me.”

“Y/n, you took my child with you.”

“She’s still in me, you idiot. Of course, she has to go where I go.” You snap, getting frustrated by him. 

“Hey, you’re the one who disappeared, not me. I did not leave in the middle of the night without any warning or information.” He yells through the phone, frustrated to not have you with him. 

“You’re the one who jeopardizes our relationship, sleeping with other girls, humiliating me in front of everybody and screaming at me in the middle of the fucking street. And I’m the one who’s making mistakes here? You’re insane.” You scream back, your mother forcing you to seat down. 

“Fuck, you don’t realize how worried I am when I discover you were gone, and none of your friends didn’t know where you were either. You just disappear, and then you text my assistant a week before Christmas and not even me.” 

“Do you think it’s easy for me to deal with all of this alone?”

“Hey! You’re the one who left.”

“Because I’m mad at you. Not because I stop loving you.” You says calming down again. 

“You...”

“I love you. I love everything about you, Charles. But you keep hurting me and making mistakes that force me to band my moral to go around it. What happened with that girl? Was she worth jeopardizing our relationship? I’m so mad and in pain. You put me there, and now you don’t want me to be around my child, the one I’m carrying. The one you didn’t want at the beginning of all this. You can’t do this to me. Not after everything you did.”

“I...”

“I don’t want to talk anymore. I'll see you on the 24th.” You hang up the phone tossing it across the room. You apologize to your mother realizing you just destroy her phone, but she just shush you out of the room to your bedroom to get some rest. Real rest. 

You cried for hours this afternoon, trying to figure everything out. After the tears came depression, and then, and only after that, came the anger. You were mad. No, furious. You know all this didn’t come from him but from his mom. You know she will do anything to protect her son and take responsibility for his actions. 

You spend your entire Christmas Day in bed, unable to move or speak. You didn’t want to eat but forced yourself for your baby girl. Every time you rub your belly, you miss the touch of Charles on it. You miss him more than anything, but you wanted to prove to him and yourself that you didn’t need him. 

You made an effort to eat with your family the night of Christmas. Everyone tried to cheer you up, but something was broken in you. You really lost him, and you really lost Charles. All this drama put so much pressure on you that the same night, you start bleeding. 

You decided not to take any chance and went to the hospital. Right away, they took charge of you. You waited hours for the doctors to give you news, but nothing. You weren’t surprised because you were the 25th and everybody was celebrating with their family, but all this wait made you worried even more. 

Charles was with his family having dinner when his phone rang. 

“Hello?” 

“Charles, Charles Leclerc?” Ask your mother.

“Yes?”

“Y/M/N, Y/n mother. Y/n is in the hospital.” She says straight to the point.

“What?” 

“She’s in the hospital. She was losing blood, and we went directly to check it out. I’m not supposed to be calling you right now, and she didn’t want to worry you. But you’re the father and she loves, misses you very much.” She explains herself off tone. 

“Where are you?” 

“I’m not sure, she wants to see you, Charles.”

“I’m her boyfriend and the father. I'm coming. Tell me which hospital!” He orders directly, not missing this opportunity. 

“Centre hospitalier de la Côte Basque.” She hangs up the phone after whispering the information.

“She’s in France. All this time, she was this close,” he thinks, hanging up the phone. He rushes inside and excuses himself to everyone before taking his coat and leaving promptly. 

Charles didn’t waste any minute, and he drove for hours. He arrives at at 4 am the morning at the destination, and he barely parks his car and rushes inside. Almost screaming at the receptionist to find out where you are. 

You are in your room, sleeping with your mother stocking your head gently. After crying, you finally fell asleep. Breathing finally normally, you weren’t dreaming, and it was better this way. 

Charles sprint through the corridor before finding your room. He takes the time to catch his breath before passing a hand in his hair. He opened the door carefully. Your father gets up from his chair and grabs him by the collar the minute he walks in. 

“You have some nerve coming here after what you did to her, you piece of shit.” 

“I... I’m sorry.” 

“Y/F/N, let him go.” Speaking up, your mother, getting up and taking her husband's arm. 

Your father took several minutes before releasing his grip and walking away. 

“She’s sleeping right now. They sedated her.” 

“Is she okay? And the baby?” 

“Like you care about her,” pester your father, sitting back in his chair.

“I do...”

“Oh really, when?”

“I know. I didn’t want this to happen, so I messed up. But I love her. I really do.” 

You start to wake up. Wriggles in the hospital bed. You sight, trying to vanish the vapour of the drug. 

You slowly opened your eyelids, trying to get used to daylight. Still unaware of the atmosphere in the room, you moan, trying to change position. Your catheter hurts, and you blow a good blow before opening your eyes.

You search for your mother, but your eyes fall on Charles, who approaches you.

“Charles?” 

“Oui, mon amour.” He says, taking place next to you.

To be continued... 

Tag list: 

@mloyer @heavengirls111 @janeholt3 @ggaslyp1 @tall-tanned-tattoo @queenanababy @91vhs @dreamerrosie @pleasedontfollowimlost @kuskumu @lissimountf1 @sbgal​

[mywrittengartgallery]

PEDRI - Au bonheur des dames

Words : 4,8k

Warning : Fluff 

Summary : who thought wrapping books would lead you to meet him ? ( Part 1 of Une page d’amour )

☁️ 

“Thank you, have a nice day!”

You had been in this bookshop since 10 A.M and you were so tired of it. Alright, it was fun, at the beginning, wrapping Christmas presents here with your friends and collecting some money for the charity. However, it’s been ten days since you’ve began and you were fed up of standing and hurting your finger tips with the tape.  Don’t take it wrong, people here were amazing: always nice and curious of what everything was about, they also were pretty generous and you really were thankful of that. But the actual work was a nightmare now. At least, you were a lot more decent at wrapping than you were before. 

“Y/N, I’m taking a break, is that okay if you handle it for like five minutes?” asked your friend, with expectant eyes. Alright, you weren’t fond of the idea but she had been there every day with you and she was such a sweet soul, so you couldn’t refuse her anything. With a small smile, you nodded.

“Thank you! I was going crazy with all of these deers and trees!” she laughed while pointing at the wrapping paper. You could only agree with her, the pattern was hypnotizing and not in a good way, more like in a it would haunt you in your sleep like Despacito did way. She took her jacket and quickly made her way through the small crowds to the door. 

“Y/N, could you wrap this one please?” the bookshop’s employee asked while holding out a small book. You nodded and took it, analyzing the width of paper you would need. “She’s paying for some other books, so she will be there in like five minutes”, again you nodded. You cut the wrapping paper, placing the little blue book in the center and began to fold the corners so the presentation would be clean. You had already prepared some fragments of tape before, so you just had to stick them to hold all of your art together. 

“Hello!” 

You looked up, meeting warm eyes. She probably was the woman of the book, so you smiled. 

“Would you like me to talk to you about the charity for a bit?” you asked, trying to find a nice ribbon to put on top of the present. She agreed happily, already looking at the pictures you had put on a small table next to you.

---

“Ouch!” Pedri said just after colliding with some girl. She rolled her eyes and continued to walk towards the door. 

“What the hell?” he whispered to himself, quite shocked of the rudeness he had just received. 

“Some people are weird huh?” Fernando, Pedri’s brother, added.

“Yes...” he sighed while looking around. “What was the title again? I swear if they don’t have it here, I’m throwing myself under a bus...” 

“’Las delicias de las damas’ by Émile Zola” the oldest answered, also looking around. Fernando gently took some books, reading the summary on the back of the cover. “They should have it, it’s like one of the biggest bookshop in town...” Pedri nodded before going towards the big sign near the stairs, indicating every type of sections the shop had. 

“It’s on the third floor” he said to his brother, already climbing the stairs. Fernando followed him, giggling to himself: Pedri was really annoyed tonight, he thought. Sure, practice had been tough on him and he wasn’t satisfied with himself, but this added to the fact that he hadn’t bought their mother’s present yet so he had to rush it and the girl that bumped into him, it had put on him on edge. Fernando could understand, the poor guy was too calm and kept most of his annoyance to himself, favoring  diplomacy over futile discords. But everyone had a breaking point and he knew that Pedri was close to his. Though, his was way farer than he thought, he had believed the youngest would break when the employee at the last bookshop told him they didn’t have this book so he had to go search somewhere else. He hadn’t, he had just heavily sighed and went out, already trying to open his car. Fernando always found it funny when his brother was annoyed, it was unusual. 

They finally arrived on the third floor: it was full of shelves themselves full of books. Some looked pretty expensive with their leather covers and their golden titles, while some others were small with thin looking paper. He noticed that the lights had been dimmed, offering a warm glow that wasn’t too harsh on the eye. And even though he was annoyed, Pedri couldn't deny that this place was comforting in a way.  They went through the small aisles in order to reach the “French literature” section. It was on the far left, right next to the wide windows that offered a rare view of Barcelona. Pedri had rarely seen it like that, at night, lit by the streetlights and the Christmas decorations, with the sea cutting right through it, leaving behind a black slash. Fernando hummed, taking him out of his head. 

“I can’t find it...” his brother said, his voice soft. The athlete sighed and tried to also look around, but to his dismay, nothing stood out in the “Z” row. 

“We should probably ask someone” he declared, implicitly asking his brother to do it, but the oldest didn’t seem to catch the message. Why was everything going against him tonight ? He hated going around and asking people for things, normally it was his mom who did it, or his brother, well when they were younger at least. 

He tried to find someone who worked here, eyeing the desk near the stairs, the aisle, even the dark corridor on the other side. Nothing, no one and he thought that would be it. However, while strolling around the room, he finally caught sight of an employee who was kneeling in front a huge cardboard and rummaging through its content. He came closer, slightly coughing to make his presence known but the young man didn’t look up. 

“Hum... hello ?” he said, making the employee look up, eyebrows furrowed. “Would you happen to have ’Las delicias de las damas’ by Émile Zola ?” 

“It’s not my section, you should ask to someone else. Maybe at the ground floor? The workers at the checkouts should know.” 

---

“Would you like a gift wrapping ?” 

“Sure, why not ?”

“Y/N, another one please!” 

You took the  comics and chose a wrapping that was more adapted to kids and proceeded to cut it in the right dimensions. You had to go faster because many people were there and you didn’t want to slow the rhythm the cashiers had. It was hard to do it alone and your pair wasn’t back yet so you sort of were fuming inside. 

“Hi!” said the grandma, a wide smile on her face. “What is Sapanā ?” she asked, curious of the wide sign glued at the front of your worktable. 

“It means “Dream” in Nepali! Actually, it’s a charity made of med students, we are trying to collect funds in order to go to orphanages in Nepal.” You said passionately as you put the tape on the present. “We go there to give them vaccines, as well as some medical material that would be really useful!” 

She nodded, interested by each one of your words. She pointed at a red ribbon, mentioning to you that this was the one she wanted you to put on the present. You nodded, taking it. 

“Do you have activities with the kids there?”

Again, you nodded while taping the ribbon. “Sure, we teach them the first aid, we also do prevention especially against tobacco, and we try to teach them some Spanish for fun. We also take them on hikes to -”

“Excuse me!” a deep voice exclaimed, interrupting your rant. You had just finished your wrapping and were about to give it to the old woman but the way you had been called out had you confused and you didn’t know what to do with your hands. 

“Yes, you...” he sighed, seeming tired, but you didn’t take any notice as the client in front of you was looking expectantly at her purchase. But you should answer, right? You were asked something.

“Yes?” you said, voice unsure. 

“I want to know where-”

“Let me take this, also thank you for everything !” the grandma just had interrupted the young man and taken the present from your hands, leaving without donating a cent. You were more than lost, too much infos coming from everywhere. Another client was waiting for its wrapping and you saw the irritation on his face, but the man next to you looked as much, if not more, annoyed. 

“So, like I was saying, I want to know where I can find ’Las delicias de las damas’ by Émile Zola ?” he asked, voice pseudo neutral, pseudo since you were able to clearly identify the edge it held. You rolled your eyes, who was this guy?

“I don’t work here, sorry...” you hoped he would leave at that and go see a real employee, people were waiting.

“What?” he was apparently perplexed. “As if you don’t work here! Then what is this?” his tone was accusatory, as if he had caught you the hand in the cookie jar. The brunette was looking you up and down, frowning.

“Yes, I don’t. So, sorry I don’t know where your book is.” 

He laughed ironically and was about to leave, but not before whispering kind of loudly for you to hear a ‘sure, you just don’t want to do your job...’. What was his problem? Didn’t he have eyes? Your little stand had everything made for people to know that it wasn’t really attached to the bookshop. However, it wouldn’t end here, you, yourself, were also great at throwing spikes at people. 

“For the record, it’s ‘La delicia de las damas’. If you had tried to search with the right title, maybe you would have found it.” 

---

Fernando snickered next to Pedri who had been put in his place by the young woman. The athlete was blushing like crazy and his brother as well as the man, who had been waiting for his wrapping, laughing just added to the shame he was feeling. It wasn’t an awful mistake, but he hadn’t been the nicest to her and being called out like that just made him ridiculous. He gulped and quickly got away of the stand, favoring the queue a little farer, where he couldn’t see anyone. He would ask there and would finally be able to leave the horror movie this shop was. 

In the end, they didn’t have the book but they could order it. He would only have to pass by at the end of the week to collect it. He had agreed, too tired to wanting it right at the moment, plus it wouldn’t change anything. Christmas was next week. 

---

It was Thursday and the bookshop had sent him a text, telling him that the book had arrived. 

This day was a better day: practice had been good, him and Gavi had been put in the same team and they had won. Ansu had invited him to play some FIFA tonight and he had obviously agreed and the present for his mom was there. It was a consequently better day. 

They finished practice around 8 P.M, physically tired but everyone seemed mentally refreshed. They would do great on the upcoming games, they were sure of that. 

“See you tonight, Pedri !” exclaimed Ansu as he was going to his car, followed by Gavi who waved. The young midfielder still didn’t have his licence so he was entirely dependent on either his parents or his teammates, well most of the time Pedri himself. 

He waved back as he opened his car, getting in. The traffic was strangely smooth and practically no fans were waiting outside of the training center. He let out a sigh of relief and drove through Barcelona, passing by the wide shopping streets. In the end, he finally arrived in the calm district where the shop was. It was easy to park there during the week, not many people came by at least with their car. It was close enough of the center of the Catalan city for them to just walk there or they could take public transports easily.

The shop was lit by Christmas decorations that illuminated the street, garlands falling from the large windows and Christmas wreaths hooked just above the doors. It was nice he thought. 

He slowly walked in, holding the door for an old man who looked like he had been struggling with all his bags. It wasn’t packed, maybe because it was a Thursday or maybe because it was nearing 9 P.M, either way he liked it like that. There were no stressful vibes or hustle, just pure calmness with a strange coziness. He went to the desk where he had ordered the book last time and waited for the employee to come. He had seen him putting posters of concerts on a board, the man had noticed him, smiling, and had nodded to inform here he would be there soon. 

“Hello, what can I do for you?” he asked when he reached him. The man was probably in his forties, maybe a bit more? He wasn’t sure, but he seemed nice. He had a warm smile and patient eyes, plus he was wearing a red Santa hat that had twinkling stars. Pedri could only smile back, getting his phone out of his pocket to show him the receipt. 

“I had ordered this book the other day and I received a text to tell me it’s here, so here I am”.

The man nodded and typed on his keyboard, the keys making a loud noise each time he pressed them. 

“I’ll be back in a minute, its in the storage room.” the man said as he grabbed his badge and crossed the hall of the shop, opening a black door that had a sign ‘Staff Only’. He came back soon after, a large book in hand with its white cover and the shadow of a woman drawn on it. 

“Here it is!” he exclaimed, handing it to Pedri, his contagious smile still illuminating his face.

“Thanks.” he said, looking around the shop. He had already paid when he had ordered it, so he was free to got. However, something seemed to be missing. Then he saw the Christmas tree in the corner, standing right next to a table with glittery ribbons covering it and many rolls of wrapping paper in a box at its foot.

“Is it possible to like, wrap it?” he asked. The man smiled and nodded with such enthusiasm.

“Sure! Just go there and ask for it.” he pointed at the table Pedri had noticed before. “It’s not mandatory, but if I could ask you something, because you seem like a nice gentleman, is: could you donate a little bit ? Even one euro... it’s a charity that is there every year and they spend so much time and energy for their project, it breaks my heart when people don’t acknowledge it.” The youngster couldn’t deny it, the man was so passionate and he understood where he came from. Plus someone was going to work for him, in a way, so obviously he didn’t expect it to be free. “Also, the kid working right now is an angel, you will probably make her day!”

With that, Pedri said his goodbye with a smile and went to the table. But his smile quickly disappeared when he saw the person sitting down behind the same table, cutting fragments of tape. He wasn’t sure he was going to make your day, he thought. 

“Hum..” he said, unsure. That was going to be so damn awkward. He had been an ass to you the other day and you had humiliated his knowledge in front of everyone. Saying that your dynamic wasn’t the best was an understatement. His small sound had brought you out of you focus and had made you look up, a confused expression plastered on your face.

“Oh... Hello.” you said, trying to keep a neutral tone. You were waiting for something. Should he apologize? He couldn’t read your mind, he wished he could? What should he do?

“I’m sorry!” he threw, eyes wide. That was probably what you wanted to hear.

“What?” alright, you seemed more confused than before? What the hell was he doing?

“Huh, the other day? I’m sorry, for how I acted.” he tried again, gaining a look of recognition and a sigh. You nodded, whispering a small ‘it’s okay’. Then he saw you, still sitting there with expecting eyes. Was it not enough? He raised an eyebrow, not sure what to say.

“Do you need me to wrap the book?” you finally said, pointing at the object he was holding. He gaped and a blush took possession of his cheeks. He shyly nodded and handed it to you, clearly embarrassed. Why was he acting so dumb? What he didn’t see though was the small grin of amusement that had taken residence on your face.  You cut a relatively large stripe of writing paper: a blue one with snowflakes that had this cute holographic effects on them. You tried to be neat, perfectly folding the angles and creating square endings. You put the small pieces of tape on the back of the paper, where the two ends met, then on the top and bottom parts. 

“So, you really don’t work there?” he asked, fiddling with his fingers. You couldn’t see his face, but the small action made you understand that the boy was nervous. “I mean, I know that, the man that works here told me. It’s a charity, right?” he was babbling at this point. You tried so hard to hide your grin but it was impossible, well he was really different from the other day.

“Yes, it is. It’s called Sapanā, it means “dream” in Nepali... we are group of med students and yeah, we are trying to collect some funds for our projects.” while describing your job there, you had put the silver ribbon on and you were currently curling the ends of it. 

“It’s nice!” he said. He was still nervous, were you that scary? 

“I’m sorry too... It was a little bit condescending to call you out like that in front of everyone. It wasn’t that dumb of a mistake.” you apologized because he had apologized, but you weren’t very sincere, what could you say? You were the resentful type! But the boy seemed like he needed it with how stressed he looked, he was going to also stress you out if this continued. 

He laughed, a small one, but still a laugh and shook his head. “I deserved it, I think” you wholly agreed with him, but you wouldn’t tell him. “So you’re a med student?” 

“Yes” 

“Impressive!” he said, seeming so genuine. You blushed, feeling seen and acknowledged. You didn’t even know why, your circle had always said how proud they were of you for throwing yourself in such hard studies. People were generally impressed when you told them what you were studying. He seemed more genuine, that was probably why. 

---

“You’re late bro!” Ansu said, faking annoyance as he opened the door.

“Sorry, had to collect my present for my mom at the bookshop.” Pedri said, showing the small white bag he was holding, a faint red hue on his cheeks. It was the cold. Not due to the girl his age that had wrapped his present and was kind of cute and who he had made a fool of himself in front of and thinking of the bookshop automatically brings him to think about her and therefore making some weird emotions arise. No. It was the cold of Barcelona. 

The slightly older of the two opened wider the door and mentioned him to enter. Pedri obliged, taking off his shoes and smiling to himself when he heard Gavi screaming because Ferran had probably scored. 

---

“Man, I didn’t get anything to my mom yet! I’m screwed!” whined Gavi, sprawled on Pedri’s couch. Practice was in an hour but the younger was bored, so he had invited himself over Pedri’s place. At this point, they should just become roommates. 

“Gavi! Christmas is in two days!” he knew that the boy will just graft himself on the present his sister had gotten. So invested right?

“I can’t even put my name on what my sister had gotten her! She like, booked a massage in the new spa that opened in Seville and they absolutely have to try it!” he mimicked his sister, apparently, using a high voice and an accent that clearly wasn’t his. “Bro, do I look like someone who buys that?” no. Not at all.

“So, what you wanna get her?” Pedri knew that Gavi had only started thinking about it this morning. At this point he had inflicted it upon himself. 

“I called my dad this morning, he said that she had seen this new book about biology or whatever, he said I could get that...” he sighed, toying with his phone. “But, like a book ? Really?” 

“It’s my gift for my mom, I mean I’ve gotten a book” the older shrugged. A tiny bubble had rose in his chest, if Pablo had to purchase a book, well...

“Should I do that?” he clearly seemed reluctant. Pedri had to push, he knew it. 

“Do you really have another choice?”

---

Practice had ended, and with an entire day of convincing Gavi that a book was the greatest idea of the century, here they were, inside the bookshop that Pedri had assured was the best of the town. 

They were searching for the infamous book Gavi’s dad had sent the reference to his son. The younger came back, a large book in his hands, and a small smile plastered on his face. Pedri let out a sigh of relief, thanking god for allwoing the shop to have it. 

They went back to the groundfloor, waiting for the couple before them to pay. There wasn’t any queue: again it was a Thursday after 8 P.M, just like the week before, so the calm had taken over the place. 

“Eighty-five euros for a book though, isn’t that a bit expensive?” Pablo said, a bit bitter. Oh, god, Pedro so wanted to laugh.

“It won’t change anything on your bank account man!” 

“Still!” the younger whined. 

They finally were facing the cashier who smiled, a knowing smile on his face. He had recognized them, but he was decent enough to not say anything apart of him liking watching them play and being a big supporter of the FCB. They thanked him and Gavi payed.

“Also, could I get some of that wrapping paper?” he asked pointing at the counter behind the employee. “I still have to wrap it, well she will just have to be content with the effort, I can’t make miracles happen...” he whispered to Pedri. Pablo was so embittered all the time, it was funny to see it on such a young person. 

“Oh, they can wrap it there, they did it last time!” he said, a little bit too excited for his usual self. Gavi raised an eyebrow but shrugged, not paying attention to his weird behavior. 

“Can’t be worst than what I was about to do” he made a sign to the cashier, telling him to drop the paper. He took the book and followed Pedri who went to the table, still next to the Christmas tree.

“Hi” the oldest said. You looked up, surprised to see him. You bit back a grin, which you noted you were doing a lot in his presence. 

“Hi” you returned, getting up from your chair, then turning to the young man with him, throwing him a smile. “This must be your new favorite place ?” you teased. He blushed, letting out a little laugh. This was the second laugh you had taken out of him. Not like you were counting. Why were you noticing things like that? What?

“You two know each other?” Pablo asked, eyebrows furrowed, curiosity clear on his face. 

“Huh, yes, kind of? She was the one who wrapped my mom’s present” he quickly declared, as if knowing her was crime. Now Gavi was clearly suspicious but he didn’t say anything. He knew keeping silence would give him so much more answers with Pedri. 

You laughed a little and eyed the book the younger one was holding. you were trying to cut through the weird atmosphere by subtly changing the subject but he didn’t seem to notice. The other had though.

“Your book, Gavi.” 

“Ah, yes!” he placed it on the table, in front of you. The remaining paper you had seemed too short so you took another roll, unrolling it and gauging how much you needed. It wasn’t the fastest you had been but you didn’t really care. On the contrary, at the moment you felt like taking your time. Well, the supposedly Gavi, seemed bored so he had left you let you do your stuff and went to watch the tree, mesmerized by the huge ornaments, some red, some golden. 

“You’re always there?” the older asked as he absentmindedly played with the edge of one of the pictures you had pinned on the table to promote the charity. 

“Yep, well I shouldn’t be but my friend who is supposed to do it with me has the habit to forget or just doesn’t have the courage to show up anymore... So here I am.” 

“That sounds awful.” he didn’t know if he could laugh or not but you gaped and looked right at him.

“It’s not like she doesn’t do anything! She came, at first but now she favors the inside work, like promoting it on the campus or managing the finances, things like that!” you had described her horribly, she sounded the worst. She was just in a bad phase, let’s say that. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to report her anything!” he reassured, bringing his hands up in surrender. You chuckled, why were you overthinking so much tonight? 

“She’s just not the best to inform people when she changes her plan...” you finally declared. He nodded, seeming to understand. 

“There is always the go-ahead type and the thinker one in a duo, right?”

You squinted your eyes at him, a smirk appearing on your face.

“I conclude then that you are the thinker of the two?” you asked, moving your gaze between him and the shorter one still entranced by the glittering garland.

“It shows ?”

“A little” you laughed with him who tried to be low-key with it, not wanting to attract Gavi’s attention. How wrong could that be, the boy was more clever than Pedri thought because while the two of you were lovingly discussing, he was listening, discretely watching you. God, both of you were so obvious. He rolled his eyes while lightly shoving with his index one of the red ball hanging in front of him. 

“Gosh, I don’t have ribbons anymore, could you pass me the one next to you ?” you asked, scissors in hand. However he shrugged, taking them from your hands and cutting himself the silver strip. He looked focused and you couldn’t deny that he was cute and he was trying his best and it was adorable. He handed his creation to you, a tiny rictus rising the corner of his lips. Alright, you were blushing. 

“Thank you...”

“Pedro, well Pedri, I prefer Pedri.” 

You nodded, eventually meeting his brown eyes, under the lights they looked like they were sparkling. You swallowed, a little disturbed.

“Y/N” you had whispered. He looked just as dazed as you. 

“Here, the book.” you said, why were your cheeks hot ? He took it, his hand grazing yours, that was too much. You retrieved it quickly, chuckling to hide your embarrassment. “We should see each other again, sometimes.”

What the fuck?!

Why did you just say that? Where did the bravery come from? You prepared yourself for the rejection, which was the most logical thing to happen, you had seen the guy like three times and for like ten minutes. No one in their right mind would accept it.

“Sure” he said, trying to hide his smile. 

---

“Bro!”

“What?”

“Bro!” exclaimed Gavi, giggling like a gossiping school girl. Pedri was furiously blushing but the boy couldn’t contain his smile.

“Bro!”

☁️  

I hope you liked it! English isn’t my first language so I hope I didn’t make too many mistakes!

Don’t be shy and tell me what you thought of it.

[babybulbasaur920]

Vil and my OC Felix’s dynamic

Vil talking to Rook: my boyfriend needed to use my bathroom and that was fine, but five minutes later I hear singing and he’s singing to the tune of “What's this” From the Nightmare before Christmas about my various products

Felix: “What's this, what's this? There's products everywhere. What's this? I think it goes in hair”

Epel who overheard and is laughing too hard to make a coherent response

[stevesbipanic]

Boy For All Seasons

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 Ao3

On the final night of 1985, Steve hosted a party. Well, less of a party and more just Steve, Eddie, Robin, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byer,s and Jonathan's strangely chill friend Argyle who had followed him to Hawkins for the holidays. When Steve had told Eddie of the little get-together Eddie was a bit excited, a chance for a Harrington party experience without the fear of getting beat up or having to sell.

He and Nancy had actually gotten along great at the Christmas party and she had insisted that she would help tutor Eddie once school returned so that they could all graduate this year. Steve was supplying the beer and Eddie was going to bring along some joints until Steve had told him Argyle was bringing some good shit from the coast and he wasn't going to pass up free weed.

Eddie had loved 1985, an almost perfect year thanks to the beautiful boy beside him that was now passing him the joint. Maybe next year would be even better if Eddie got up the courage to tell Steve how he was feeling. He was going to go for it, one last holiday tradition to seal the deal, a kiss at midnight.

"What no costume for this technically a holiday, Eds?"

"I did brainstorm one, sweetheart but I decided probably wasn't the best to cover myself in fireworks and then smoke weed."

Steve giggled at this, the beer and weed allowing him to relax for once. Steve had told Eddie a lot about his nightmares, no specifics, something always seemed to stop him, a lot were about the fire or some dogs that tried to attack him and the kids. It didn't happen every night but some nights Eddie would wake up to Steve's side of the bed empty or muffled cries beside him. Eddie hated those nights, and wished he could take all of Steve's hurt away. At least in the daytime, he could give Steve this, a distraction.

"What's your new year's resolution, Stevie?"

Steve laughed, "Does anyone really mean those?"

"No, but they're fun, c'mon I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

"Be braver," Steve says gazing softly at Eddie, Eddie wishes he would look that way forever.

"Now Stevie, who's telling you you're not brave, hmm?"

"Robs, says I'm a wuss, don't go for things right in front of me."

"Is that so, well, I'll have to talk to our little birdie, get her to get you some slack, bravest boy I know, baby." Steve blushed and ducked his head away, Eddie took this as a win, maybe he'd be brave tonight too.

"Alright, what's yours Eds?"

"I think being braver sounds like a good one," Eddie said smirking. Steve gasped at this shoving Eddie playfully.

"You can't steal mine that's cheating!"

"Why can't we share! Sharing is caring Stevie!" Eddie yelled shoving Steve back, the two boys tussled playfully ultimately Steve getting the upper hand, hovering over Eddie.

"C'mon Eds, what do you want to do next year?" Steve said softly, eyes sparkling.

The word was on the tip of his tongue, he wanted to say "you", that he wants Steve next year, not just as a best friend or a bed warmer or someone to tease on holidays but someone to love with his whole being, someone to chase the nightmares away. He almost was brave enough to say it before Robin interrupted him.

"Steve! Where are the party poppers? It's gonna be midnight soon!"

For a moment Steve hesitated before climbing off Eddie and heading into the kitchen to help her. Shortly after the radio started calling that it was five minutes til midnight.

"Eddie can I have your lighter for the sparklers and could you go grab those two from the kitchen, don't know what's taking them so long."

"Sure, Nance, here," Eddie replied handing her the lighter before heading inside.

Eddie wished someone else had come to grab them, or that he'd been a bit louder as he came inside, maybe then he wouldn't have heard them.

"What Robs, you think a guy like me and a guy like Eddie would ever work, we're too different?" Eddie thought Steve liked that Eddie was different, that he wasn't like those assholes Steve used to hang around with.

"Steve if you jus-"

"No Robin, it's not happening it'll never happen ok." Eddie felt his heart break in two, he knew he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up, he knew he shouldn't have let himself fall in love.

Eddie heard Robin sigh, "Ok Steve, we'll talk about this later let's just go outside for the countdown." It was then Eddie made himself known.

"Hey guys, Nance wants us all outside."

"Yeah, yeah we're coming Eddie." Eddie couldn't remember the last time Steve had used his full name, it felt like the end of whatever this year had been building.

The three of them joined the others outside and counted down the last seconds of what was almost the perfect year for Eddie Munson. They gazed at the fireworks and Eddie tried not to think about how beautiful Steve looked under their colours. There was no need to be brave, no kiss at midnight.

Eddie had a new resolution, getting over Steve.

Guess 1985 wasn't his year after all.

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