#tinsel shine

[fruitypieq]

Daily ponies #31 - #40

[snow-angel-heart]

Me and @tinsel-shine 💙💙💙

(Base // Base by ElementBases)

[glimmette]

A trio of G3 ponies I had done before, but with more interesting backgrounds and poses (instead of just pure white/not transparent/basic standing).

Top to bottom: Daisy Paisley, Morning Monarch, Glitterbelle. (The stuff in Morning Monarch's mane is meant to be tinsel.)

[kopivie]

do i do dark faux locs with light colors scattered in between, or peekaboo box braids... idk if i wanna have shiny hair anymore, i just want color

[flufflecat]

the scavenger hunt password chain through the book of bill has everyone stumped at the silas birchtree question. so far the chain is:

RIDDLE -> "Would you like to play a game?"

YES -> "What's Mcgucket's favorite soda?"

MOUNTAIN DON'T -> "What's a medieval homonym?"

LYRE LIAR -> "The 20th ingredient of anti-cipherizing tonic?"

HAROLD'S RAMBLINGS -> "How is clown repellent made?"

UNION MADE -> "Bill's govt file number?"

29121239168518 -> "Who comes from Zimtrex 5?"

GREBLEY HEMBERDRECK -> "What's on Bill's flag?"

A RAT -> "Thurburt's number?"

3466554 -> "What leaves a thin line in the snow?"

TINSEL SNAKE -> "The 6th option on Bill's editing software?"

TORTURE MENTALLY -> "Name an unpronounceable wizard"

XGQRTHX -> "Where do tri angels come from?"

333 SUNDAPPLE LANE COZY CREEK IL 60714-94611 -> "Bill Cipher's lawyer?"

MULTILEVEL MARK (or CAESAR ATBASH & VIGENERE) -> "Who defeated Silas Birchtree--?"

The only mention of Silas is on this page, and nothing in any of the text seems to be the answer.

i swear that the blue triangle has some very, very low contrast green text on it, starting with "SUC" on the topmost layer, but i cant make out anything else no matter how many flashlights i shine at it.

if anyone can manage to get a good scan of this page and up the contrast, that might answer it

EDIT:

the pyramid is confirmed to say "SUCCESS, MIDDLE, FAILURE" (thank you to everyone who commented and let me know!!)

and another EDIT:

the answer to "Who defeated Silas Birchtree is"

EMMALINE BUTTERNUBBINS

thank you @floweramon for letting me know!!

[monsterbroth]

there’s something sparkling so so bright on a blade of grass outside and it’s freaking me out a bit

[charlesslut16]

-Pregnant christmas-

summary : you and lando visit his family pregnant...

PAIRING : lando norris x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : i am so sorry that i didn't post for two days but i had so much to do with collage that i ahd no time to update.

december masterlist ; masterlist 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You stepped out of the car, the crisp winter air biting at your cheeks as you and Lando arrived at his family's home for Christmas. The air was filled with the scent of pine and anticipation, a light blanket of snow covering the ground, making everything seem like a scene from a holiday card.

The crisp winter air carried the scent of pine and cinnamon as Lando Norris, the Formula 1 driver, and you, his radiant wife, made your way to Lando's family home for a magical Christmas reunion.

With beautiful snowflakes dancing around you, you approached the door adorned with lights, nestled amidst a snowy landscape, adorned with twinkling lights and wreaths.

Lando squeezed your hand gently as you walked up the front steps, his smile warm and infectious. He was excited to introduce you as his wife and share this special time with his family, especially with a little one on the way.

The house was adorned with twinkling lights, a magnificent tree standing proudly in the corner, adorned with colorful ornaments and tinsel.

Laughter echoed through the halls, and you were immediately enveloped in a flurry of hugs and greetings from Lando's family.

As you entered the cozy home of the Norris family, the warmth of festive cheer enveloped the two of you. Lando's family greeted you with open arms and infectious enthusiasm.

His mom, a bundle of joy and warmth, enveloped you in a tight hug, her eyes shining with happiness.

"Welcome, both of you! Oh, look at that bump," she exclaimed, gently placing a hand on your growing belly, a gesture that made Lando beam with pride. His mother adored you.

Your pregnancy bump, adorned with a festive ribbon, was immediately ushered to the comfiest armchair by Lando's mom, who insisted she would take it easy while the others bustled around, preparing a lavish Christmas feast.

The day was a whirlwind of festive activities. Lando's nieces and nephews eagerly showed you their handmade decorations, each one proudly displaying their artistic skills.

Lando, ever the mischievous one, snuck behind you and whispered silly jokes in your ear, making you burst into fits of laughter. He could be serious if he wanted to be, but you liked him better this way.

Amidst the joyful chaos, you found yourselves in the cozy kitchen, where Lando's dad, an expert in culinary delights, was concocting his famous Christmas dinner.

The aromas of roasting turkey and spices filled the air, and you couldn't resist stealing a bite of the freshly baked cookies cooling on the counter, you were allowed, I mean you were pregnant.

As the day drifted into evening, everyone gathered around the fireplace, cups of hot cocoa in hand. Lando's sister, armed with a guitar, led the family in singing classic Christmas carols.

Lando, ever the enthusiast, joined in, his voice blending harmoniously with the melodies, eliciting smiles and applause from everyone. He truly was an angel, your angel.

Later, you found a quiet moment with Lando by the glowing tree, the twinkling lights casting a magical aura around you both. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and whispered,

"This is perfect, isn't it? Spending Christmas with you and our little one on the way."

You nodded, feeling a surge of emotion as you rested your head against his chest.

"Absolutely perfect," you whispered back, your heart swelling with love for this man and the family you were becoming a part of.

The evening ended with exchanging heartfelt gifts, laughter, and embraces. Lando's mom pulled you aside, handing you a beautifully wrapped box.

"For the little one," she said with a knowing smile, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

It was a beautiful little necklace with Norris been standing on it. You knew that either bean would be a girl or a boy, she or he would appreciate and love the lovely gift.

As you and Lando drove back home, the moon lighting the snow-covered landscape, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude and happiness.

"I love you, Lan. I hope that we can spend a thousand more Christmas together."

"I love you, angel."

"And I love you, bean," Lando added and gave your bump a little kiss, as he stood at a red traffic light.

The day had been filled with love, warmth, and the promise of new beginnings. And as you both nestled into each other's arms, you knew that this Christmas would be a cherished memory forever etched in your hearts.

[yesihaveaobsession]

Tis the Season

Alastor x female!doe reader

Summary: You're part doe, and Alastor really likes you, but he doesn't know how to tell you, so the holiday season comes around, and he hangs up a mistletoe for one kiss.

A/N- I want Christmas :/

Christmas was your all-time favorite holiday—giving and getting gifts, and seeing the joy on their faces from the thoughtful and well-planned presents. The smell of gingerbread cookies and all the other kinds, you just loved it. You had just finished helping Charlie hang the last of the ornaments on the tree, admiring the way the lights danced off the shiny baubles. The hotel’s inhabitants were scattered around, engaged in various holiday activities. Angel Dust was attempting to hang tinsel in the most extravagant way possible, while Husk grumbled about the snowflakes cluttering up the bar.

"Looks like everything's coming together nicely," you said, stepping back and admiring your work with the cheap ornaments that would usually be found in a convenience store. Charlie beamed at you, the Christmas spirit illuminating her, her excitement infectious. “It really is! Thank you for all your help. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Just then, the sound of an old-fashioned radio crackled through the room, signaling the approach of Alastor. He had his arms tucked behind his back as he looked around at the cheap decor. You turned to see him stride more into the room. He paused by the tree, his gaze sweeping over the decorations again to make sure you had seen his approval with a nod.

“Ah, what a splendid tree! You’ve outdone yourselves,” he praised, his eyes finally landing on you. Now, you had joined the hotel crew a few months ago. You were a part-doe demon who had a heart on your sleeve but also could handle your own, which had caught the Radio Demon's attention. As these few months progressively went on, Alastor adored you more with every passing second, but he couldn't figure out how to tell you without making it special and without ruining his reputation. Then it came to him.

“Thank you, Alastor. We wanted everything to be perfect for the holidays.” You beamed again. If he could see Christmas trees in your eyes, he would.

"I think it’s high time you took a little break to enjoy yourself,” he said, pushing you towards the front door. "But there's still so much to do."

Alastor raised a hand to stop you, his grin widening. “Nonsense! Leave it to me. Go out, enjoy the festivities. Go see some lights. You deserve it, dear."

"That's perfect," Charlie said. "The rest of us will also head out to get hot chocolate and snacks for the movie tonight." Alastor nodded, and that made your decision, so you headed out.

Walking in, your eyes went wide. There was a mini train on a floating track that went around the foyer of the hotel. Wreaths and lights adorned the space, the tree looked healthier, standing tall and proud, adorned with sparkling ornaments and a shining star at the top. Garland wrapped around every railing—it looked like a winter wonderland. Every detail had been meticulously arranged, capturing the essence of the holiday spirit.

Just then, Alastor appeared beside you, his grin as wide as ever. “Do you like it?” he asked, his tone filled with a rare gentleness.

“Alastor, it’s incredible,” you breathed, still in disbelief. “How did you do all this?”

He chuckled, clearly pleased with your reaction. “A little magic and a lot of effort, and you know I pulled some strings." He waved his claw dismissively as he looked back at you. You felt a warmth in your chest, touched by his thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Alastor. This means so much to me.”

Charlie peeked her head into the room and said, “We’re off to get the rest of the snacks and drinks!” Charlie called out. “We’ll be back soon!” They left, leaving you and Alastor alone. You found yourself alone with Alastor in the beautifully decorated lobby. The atmosphere was serene, the only sound the soft crackling of the fireplace. "Ah, but there’s one more tradition we must honor,” he said, producing a sprig of mistletoe from behind his back. His eyes flicked across your features.

You laughed, a light, happy sound that seemed to fill the room. “You really thought of everything, didn’t you?” He stepped closer, holding the mistletoe above your head with a flourish. “Indeed, my dear. And you know what that means.”

Your heart fluttered as he leaned in, his lips brushing your cheek in a soft, lingering kiss. It was a gentle, almost reverent gesture, sending a shiver down your spine. He pulled back slightly, his face inches from yours, his grin now softer, more genuine.

“Merry Christmas, my dear,” he said, his voice low and filled with warmth.

You could hardly find your voice, your mind still reeling from the unexpected kiss. “M-Merry Christmas, Alastor.” With a final wink, he tucked the mistletoe away, leaving you with a memory that would linger far beyond the holiday season. The room was filled with a quiet magic, the perfect backdrop for a Christmas you would never forget.

[luveline]

Hi, I’ve never sent a request before so forgive me if this sounds weird I’m still learning how to use Tumblr lol but what if Eddie and reader go to Roan’s school for parent-teacher conference and her teacher shows them something Roan wrote or made expressing how much she loves her new mom and her new little family🩷 and reader cries from how happy and loved Roan and Eddie make her feel🥹

ty for ur request, it doesn't sound weird at all! eddie and roan —you and eddie attend roan's PT conference, stepmother!reader, 1.2k

You hide from the biting winter wind in Eddie's side. “Is it supposed to be this cold?” you ask. 

“You sound surprised. It's December,” he says, though he puts his arm over your shoulders to cover as much of you as he can. “I told you to wear a coat.” 

“The coat ruins my outfit,” you say. 

“You being cold ruins the outfit.” He nods towards the step up into the school building. “You could say the outfit ruins what's underneath–” 

“What's wrong with you?”  

“An appreciation for my wife?” 

“Stop saying that, you're confusing people. Steve asked me last night if we got married in private–” 

“You're always talking to Steve,” Eddie complains, “he doesn't even call me anymore, he just wants to talk to you.” 

He'd called to ask if he was still babysitting, actually, but Eddie wouldn't know that because he and Roan had been playing monsters at the time, speaking to each other in gruff tones while they made sandwiches for dinner. 

“You have a problem.” 

Eddie can't decide whether to bicker or dote, squeezing you tightly, a promise about new problems lost to the growing ruckus of the elementary school after hours. Some parents have brought their children, but the majority stand chatting in lines to see the teachers. You and Eddie have come through the main entrance of the building rather than the side door where Roan enters, and the walk to Mrs. Lundy's room is longer than usual, though far from unpleasant. Light shines through the windows where a rainbow of creatures have been painted, leaving glowing shapes of apricot, cerulean, and lilac on your skin as you pass. 

“You're like a Christmas tree,” Eddie says. 

“I just need some tinsel.” You point at the decorations hanging from Mrs. Lundy's doorway. “Like that.” 

“You want some tinsel? I'll get you some tinsel, baby, just give me a minute. And maybe distract her.” 

You refuse to help him steal from Mrs. Lundy, and spend your time in line waiting with his hands held firmly in yours to prohibit any theft. Eddie moans about being jailed but is otherwise content. He quite likes it, actually, rearranging your fingers to stroke your knuckles. 

Mrs. Lundy is smiling, happy to see you and brag about your girl. She starts with Roan's general education, her behaviour, her grades, though this young she doesn't have grades so much as milestones. Roan is smart but no wizz kid (not that you care), she's kind (but not always good at sharing), she's loud, and rambunctious, a great artist, and she's very, very happy. 

“She talks about your wedding all the time. Every day. She tells us she's going to be the flower girl, and the best man, and that she has a beautiful dress.” Mrs. Lundy beams. “She's walking on sunshine.” The teacher's smile turns soft, almost wistful. “Well, she's Roan. You know what she's like better than I do.” 

Your cheeks ache with pride. 

“She's a good kid,” Eddie says. 

“Yes!” Mrs. Lundy reaches across the desk for a turquoise-coloured folder. “There was actually something I wanted to share with you both… You know we have creative writing assignments, and obviously we help them with making real sentences, but what she has to say is very much of her own volition.” 

Mrs. Lundy pulls a sheet of paper from the folder and puts it down in front of your hands. “The prompt was what makes you happy,” she says. 

The first sentence is simple. 

My mommy. 

A drawing of you decorates the page above the lines, so clearly you, your smile wide and pink. 

My mommy is kind and I love her. Dad sayd the wedding is speshul becase he loves her, but she will be my mom. She makes me so happy. Mommy says she loves me all of the time, and she brushus my hair. My best part of the day is when Y/N comes home and hugs me. We are so happy, and Lucky gets dinner. I love my dad too, and Uncle Wayn. 

Her spelling errors have been corrected in green pen, and her backwards letters are written forwards for her to copy. You read the entire paragraph in a blur, thinking about how long it must've taken her to get it all down, nearly an entire page in her bubbly handwriting, big letters running off of the page. 

“Needless to say,” Mrs. Lundy says, “that most children write about their families, or their pets, or their toys. But Roan was extremely focused on the word love. She's clearly going home to a loving home every night.” Mrs. Lundy smiles at Eddie. You nearly miss it, reading the paragraph again, and then a third time. 

“Can I take this?” you ask, clearing your throat, tears brewed and bobbing on your waterline, desperate to be shed. “Is that okay?” 

Eddie laughs and elbows you in the arm. “Come on, it's hardly news.” 

You wipe your eyes before you can cry in front of them both. “I'm sorry, just– can I?” 

Mrs. Lundy beams again, emphasising the well-worn smile lines at the corners of her lips and creasing beside her eyes. 

You hold it together well for a little while. Eddie talks over your wobbly silence, a hand on your shoulder, assuring Mrs. Lundy that you're all, in fact, very happy, and he's just glad that Roan is being a good student and friend to her classmates. Mrs. Lundy's kindness and Roan's love letter to you has knocked you entirely off kilter, and you're crying before you've reached the car. They're happy tears. 

“Come on,” Eddie says, taking the paper you've folded carefully from your fingers as they clench. “She's said nicer to you in person.” 

And sure she has. Roan loves hitting you with the saccharine when you're not expecting it. Drying her hair after bath time, totally distracted, she'll kiss your cheek and say, “You're so pretty.” She sprinkles I love you's wherever they'll fit like her dad does, and she shows it with little gifts and cuddles and invitations. Y/N, do you want to have a fashion show with me? Y/N, can we have ice cream in bed? Can I do your hair, please, mommy? 

“It's different. It's different,” you insist, scrambling to find the words. “She's…” You rub your eyes. Your makeup is smudging, but you can't help it. “I don't even know what to say.” 

Eddie shrugs. Lean shoulders, a loving arm behind your back, the car in sight but getting no closer, he comforts you in the middle of the parking lot while the passing headlights kiss your shoes. “You know how much she loves you, babe. This is a good thing, right? You're not upset?” 

“Not upset,” you clarify. 

“Okay, good. Is this a bad time for me to say that I am profoundly jealous right now? I used to get all the drawings and cards, I used to get Mother's day gifts. I have a mother's day card up in the attic… might have to get it out,” —he kisses your cheek— “just to cope.” 

You laugh through a sniffle. “Let's go get it,” you say. 

He presses Roan's assignment back into your hand. “You can keep that one, but don't get it out around me. I'm serious.” 

[mediumgayitalian]

In his head he is brave enough to say it: gods, you are beautiful in the moonlight. He is. He has made Nico weak in the knees since they were fifteen and new and fragile as spun glass, and he does now. In the moonlight his radiance is much subtler; he is opal and pearl and quartz, he is shining and multifaceted.

Instead he traces the bob of Will’s throat, his long, freckly neck, cratered with burn scars and cupped with a raised white scar from years of endless picking; follows the wild winding wisps of his hair, barely held back by his old sunglasses, compressed in coils around his head like a pen spring squished to the size of its threads, creaking with the weight of its own potential energy, brimming with the imagined burst of its future; memorizes the fluttering flap of his feathering eyelashes, the delicate dips of his deepened Cupid’s bow, the roughened raze of his wide rowdy hands. All of him is in motion, always, but now especially, hands twitching on the wheel, head thrown back, mouth wide and shaking along with his shoulders.

“I really like your laugh,” and it’s quick, vowels tumbling over each other and tripping the consonants, a queue of clumsy hopefuls scrambling over shoulders and clasping hands. The pretty laughter fades and arched eyebrows replace it, poorly hidden surprise, twitching smile lines, and Nico looks deliberately forward, mortification cackling along each of his wire-tense muscles, dancing along the shimmering heat of his face. “It’s. Wide.”

“Wide?” asks Will carefully, craning his neck to glance in his blind spot, whispering chuckles dancing along to the beat of the blinker.

“Wide,” Nico confirms, flicking out his hands. His fingers are not nearly as long, nor as wiry or corded, but the scarring is mirrored. Nicks and scratches and burn marks and calluses, topographic maps of time spent.

Will’s turn is successful — the strawberry baskets dip dangerously from their precarious perch on backseats, but don’t fall, shifting over and around each other to burst tiny globules of stretched taut flesh, rubbing against rough reed ribbons. Nico inhales deeply, and the sweet is almost nauseating, summer fruit twisting in the air along with lavender body wash and Blistex and Texas summer sun.

“You take up space.”

“My laugh?”

Laughter in his words in his hands in his skin, in his eyes, in the coils of his hair, in his grass-stained heels, in the bends of his scar-bleached knees. In the dancing dots of his face arms chest legs. In the dip of his bottom lip, crater under his too-big front teeth. In the jut of his crooked spine and wide hips.

“What about my laugh?”

It is in his words more often than not and in Nico’s dreams even more so. It curls around the blurry edges of his dreams and weaves into daisy-strong chains, dangling from the too-high ceilings of his nightmares, coiling around his arms and chest and back and yanking with the force of breaking ribs, the force of bellows, the force of clasped bloodless hands. Dragging him across trench gouged ground to bright light and clear air and the distant memory of summer rain.

“That you like, I mean.”

“It’s snorting,” Nico confesses. Will reddens, and Nico smiles, under the heat of it grows sunflower and dandelion and tinted brown-eyes Susans. “Um. Loud.”

“Geez,” Will grumbles, “tell a guy the truth, why don’t you.”

Nico has never seen gold under silver nightlight and it fascinates him, how Will sparks and shimmers, how when the sun sets it does not fade away. How the tiny specks of precious metal weave through him like tinsel and glow in veins of sweet summer memory; how the warm night billows and blows around him lovingly, how the breeze from the open window greets him like a precious grandchild, a beloved nephew. Seedchild; beloved of the earth and sun, performer under the moon, the stars.

Will’s wide hands inch across the dash, brushing over the ancient radio dials and dipping over the skipping cassette, pausing by the base of the gearshift and resting, limply, palm open, fingers cracked and spread. Knuckles popping and chittering amongst themselves, hiding in the bent hoods of wrinkled skin. Nico lowers his heavy hands on the heated hopeful hesitance, curling his cool fingers around much longer ones, and squeezing, once, twice, thrice.

“I like your laugh,” he repeats. He rolls his shoulders, hands flexing, twitching, pulling.

Will’s hand tightens. The road opens up and the Atlantic glimmers beside them, moon whispering to its rippling waves, and he smiles, grins, wider than before, and he is laughing, again, and it is wider even this time, as wide as the sparkling silver water.

“I hear you.”

He squeezes.

You are beautiful in the moonlight. You are beautiful all the time.

Nico squeezes back.

[lovelytsunoda]

god knows I’ve tried // yuki tsunoda

summary: stranded at her publishers office after the battery in her car dies, there’s only one person she wants to call for a jumpstart.

pairing: yuki tsunoda x lawson!reader

warnings: self-deprecating humor, y/n is very self critical, yuki is her night in shining armour, total lack of christmas spirit, anxiety.

author's note: this resonates so personally with me and i feel so fricking attached to this story and all the people in it. please treat it kindly :)

so go on judge me by my cover, and no I’ll never have another. baby I’ve been bad, but god knows I’ve tried to be good

it's too early for damn christmas lights, she huffed to herself as she left the office, juggling the volkswagen keys that dangled from her fingertips with the large cardboard box between her arms, staring at the lights and tinsel hung up on the light poles. cursing to herself and trying not to drop anything, she fumbled for the unlock button, ready to ditch the box in her trunk.

her volkswagen golf stood solitary and alone in the parking lot, no other cars for miles. if liam was here, he'd be asking where her pepper spray was, god forbid anything happen to his baby sister.

there was only a year between them, but sometimes she swore that liam acted as if there were five.

the cold dug into her skin as she hobbled through the parking lot, trying to keep her head on a swivel as she once again asked herself why she had parked so far away from any other car. she fumbled with the trunk button (which was unresponsive a lot more than it actually opened the trunk), unceremoniously dumping the box so hard that the small red car started to shake.

she slammed the trunk shut, frowning as she ran a fingertip over the small spot of rust that had begun to form where the silver letters proclaimed to the world what kind of car she drove met the painted trunk door.

she opened the car door, slipping into the driver's seat and staring at the overhead door lights, which had not illuminated as they were intended to when the door opens.

"motherfucker." she mumbled. "i'm gonna have to replace the latch, aren't i?" this was not new. she'd had multiple issues with the car, buying it from a dealership that advertised mostly on facebook.

never again, the next car she buys will be certified pre-owned from a volkswagen dealer, not a used car lot.

the latch would need replacing eventually: it had already locked up the door and prevented her from opening her car, even after smashing the unlock button on her keys five times. she rolled her eyes, closing the door and sliding the key into the ignition.

the key turned, but the car didn't start. growing increasingly panicked, she turned the key a few more times, the same ministrations that normally started up the ten year old car.

"fuck!" she howled, slamming her hands down on the steering wheel as the engine refused to turn over again. she reached for the headlight button, feeling her stomach drop to the floor when there was no response from the headlights.

the engine battery was dead.

she was stranded, alone, in a dark parking lot at night.

it didn't get more fucked than that.

she reached for her phone, the screen providing the only light source as she fumbled for the lock button, and making sure her finger hovered steadily over the panic alarm on her keys. just in case.

who was she going to call, she wondered, scrolling through her contacts. definitely not liam, she couldn't trouble him like that. remind him that she'd always need protecting. she could call her best friend, but the likelihood that margot would know what to do was slim. besides, she was probably out with her boyfriend if she wasn't at work.

her finger hovered over a name, and she debated long and hard if it was worth it, if she was really desperate enough to ask him for help. would he come? would he consider it strange that his best friend's baby sister was calling in the middle of the night because she was dumb enough to drain her car battery?

right now, it didn't look like she really had a choice. unless she wanted to call a tow truck and be out a couple hundred bucks.

"hello?"

"yuki, it's y/n. i need your help."

when the headlights of yuki's honda civic type r lit up the parking lot, she could have cried from relief. the dead battery also meant no heat, and she was chilled to the bone, teeth chattering together as she clutched her phone in one hand and her keys in the other.

"thank god you're here!" she blurted, scrambling out of the car as yuki pulled into the parking space on her passenger side. "i didn't know who else to call!"

ah, yes. yuki tusnoda. backlit by his headlights, he looked like a guardian angel. he'd been close with the lawsons since he came to england, being practically adopted when he moved in with liam at milton keynes, like some fucked up version of a college roommate scheme.

not to mention that he was funny, hot as hell, and she never knew if his cheerful, gentle ribbing meant he looked at her as more than a friend. every time he gifted her a casserole dish of something he had cooked, or invited her out when he and liam went somewhere, she couldn't help but think that maybe he liked her the way that she liked him.

in a way that was anything but just friendly.

"didn't you just get something fixed on your car?" yuki frowned popping his car hood open and digging around in his glove box for the jumper cables.

"i changed a headlight last week. the last major thing was the driveshaft, i couldn't fix that myself, had to take it in." she frowned, lifting up the hood of her own car, using her phone light to find the battery cover. "the car is a piece of shit, but at least it's reliable. and the driveshaft was covered by the dealership since it should have been on the safety certification and wasn't."

yuki frowned, untangling the cables before he dropped them to the pavement, peeling off his puffer jacket. "your lips are blue. take my jacket. i doubt liam would like it if let his little sister get hypothermia"

"pneumonia."

"same difference."

"not really." she laughed, pulling yuki's jacket over her own thin flannel trench coat. she hated wearing a thick winter coat when she drove, relying almost entirely on her car's heated seats to keep warm without suffocating.

"if i get sick because i sacrificed my jacket for you, i should hope that you'd be the one to take care of me. you know, since it was your own fault." yuki chuckled, hooking up the cables as y/n tried to keep warm

"fuck you. i could have stayed in the car."

"the car doesn't have heat either."

oh. yeah. she forgot about that one.

"well, i could have stayed in your fancy ass sports car." it didn't matter how she phrased it, she was just trying to butter him up. on a normal day, she made fun of him for driving a honda civic, calling it a 'mom-mobile'.

with the jumper cables fully connected, they both settled into the honda to wait it out. usually, the rule of thumb was fifteen minutes, but she wasn;t sure that she could stand to be in a car with yuki for that long without doing something reckless.

she slipped out of his jacket, moving to pass it to him before he gestured vaguely to the backseat. the heated seats were on, but she could still see the puffs of air leaving her body as she breathed heavily.

"thanks for coming. i didn't know who to call."

yuki turned to look at her, turning down the volume on the radio. it was a shame, too. she was quite enjoying 'teenage dirtbag'. "why didn't you call liam?"

"pride, i think. he's always been the favourite, the one that stuck with it, the one that made something of himself. i don't need to admit to him that i need help, that i don't know things. because i do, it just sometimes takes me a little longer to get it, or i give up too quickly."

yuki frowned. "liam worries about you, you know. he doesn't like seeing you upset. and he's always been proud of you, so have your parents."

she shivered, pulling her sleeves over her hands. "it's just always been more upfront with liam. they keep telling me that i give up on things too quickly. you know, i realized the other day that i don't really have any hobbies any more. outside of paint nights with the girls, i don't paint anymore. i don't do any sports. reading is really all i do any more."

"that doesn't define your worth, you know. you've got other things going on right now that are taking up your time." yuki encouraged, fiddling with the heating dial. "hey, speaking of which, what are you doing here so late at night?"

she groaned, tilting her head back. "god, this is embarrassing." she hid her head in her hands before turning back to yuki. "promise not to laugh too hard?"

"why would i laugh at you?"

"i was picking up advance copies of my first book." she turned and looked out the window, at the empty parking lot illuminated solely by yuki's headlights. "i've spent the better part of the last two years working on it, and i'm scared i'm going to fail at it like i failed at everything else."

she felt a warm hand overtop of hers. "that's incredible. that's such a major accomplishment, y/n. why are you doubting yourself? you've made it this far."

she smiled, turning to face him. "yeah, but how many people want to read about a detective in small-town new zealand who lives in a haunted house?"

yuki raised an eyebrow. "you already have my interest."

and what great author could resist going on and on about their latest endeavor?

"okay, so it's about this detective in new zealand, she's just moved to this small town as part of a so-called promotion, but really she was desperate and only took the job because she wanted out of the city, a nice change of scenery and whatever. but after she moves in, she finds out the house is haunted and the ghosts actually end up helping her solve her first big case."

she left out the part about how there were three ghosts: one was a dead rockstar, one was a nineteen-thirties midwife and the other was a dead nun. the witty banter between the group of them was a joy to write.

"she also has a crush on this guy who lives across the street. he's an autobody mechanic, with a collection of classic cars."

who totally wasn't inspired by yuki and his gorgeous brown eyes or luscious black hair. well, her one argument was that book guy was about a foot taller than yuki was.

"hell yeah, i'd read that." yuki laughed. "or i'd watch the movie, depending on how long the book was."

y/n laughed, and it felt good. it felt like it had bene forever since she laughed. "it's a cozy mystery series, so it's supposed to make you laugh, be predictable. i took notes from agatha christie, the best of the best. i just hope that the general consumer market also sees it that way."

"i'm sure you'll do fine. as long as it's not like, five hundred pages long, i can't see why anybody wouldn't want to read it."

catching y/n's eye, yuki snickered. "it's not that long, is it?"

"no, it's just under three hundred. they made me cut the sex scenes out."

she watched yuki's eyes go wide, before she burst out laughing as well.

"i'm kidding!" she giggled. "i'm kidding, there aren't any sex scenes in cozy mysteries."

despite how warm the car was, a shiver went down yukis spine at the thought that the innocent, angelic young woman sitting next him, separated only only by the center console, had written numerous sex scenes.

“would you read it? now that you know how many pages it has?”

“yes.” yuki insisted. “of course I would. Liam’s shown me some of your novellas. you are such a good writer. a real talent.”

she yawned, leaning back against the leather seat with a yawn and a shake of her head. “if this book crashes and burns, I’ll remind you you said that. hey, would you be willing to give me a starred review to print on the back cover?”

yuki hummed for a minute, looking up at the sunroof and then back at the girl sitting next to him. “hmm, great mystery, lovely author, not enough sex and could use more descriptions of food.” he joked, playfully gripping her shoulder.

“yeah, yeah. you think you’re so funny.” she laughed, pushing his arm off her shoulder. “but I’m glad that you’re here. you make much better company than my brother does.”

yukis hand dropped to her thigh, thumb gently rubbing along her jeans. “always. any time you need me, you know I’m a phone call away.”

yeah, bust she wished he was closer than even that. and if she kept staring into his dark ocean eyes, she feared she’d do something she’d regret. something impulsive and reckless and foolish but god damn would it have felt fucking good.

“y/n, you good? you’re kind of staring into space there.” yuki frowned, waving a nimble hand in front of her face, trying to capture her attention.

she chuckled. “not space, just the dashboard lights.”

“isn’t that a meat loaf song?”

she laughed, the sound coming from so deep in her chest as she turned to look at yuki. really, it shouldn’t have been that funny. all she knew was that she really, really wanted to kiss him.

she didn’t wait, lunging across the center console, hands shaking nervously as she rested them on either side of his face, pressing her chapped lips to his.

she had to hold herself back from moaning as yuki kissed her back, his warm hand caressing her sides under her open trench coat.

his touch was soft, safe, and comforting. but it was also electric, and left her wanting more when he finally pulled away for air.

“your car is probably charged”. he said nervously, blushing pink as he wiped away the saliva from his mouth. “I’d hate to kiss and run, but you probably want to get home.”

she rested her forehead against his, laughing softly as he rubbed his thumb over her wrist. “at least take me out to dinner before you kiss me and leave me hanging.”

“it’s a little late for dinner, but how does a late night caramel sundae sound?” he suggested weakly, shrugging his shoulders. mcdonalds was hardly first date material, but he knew he didn’t want this night to end, didn’t want to risk losing this magical moment.

“you drive and I’ll follow?”

“sounds good.” yuki grinned, kissing her again. “but just let me kiss you for a few more minutes to make sure that battery is well and truly charged.”

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @lorarri @cartierre @sidcrosbyspuck @userlando @httpiastri @love4lando @oconso @thatsdemko @monzabee

[starry-hughes]

bah humbug (andrei svechnikov)

day 11 of star’s ficmas

andrei svechnikov x reader

Andrei didn’t understand why you were so adverse to staying in his apartment. He had been staying at your apartment for a couple of days now when he could. You would get weird about staying at his place and he didn’t understand why. 

“What are you doing?” you almost shouted as Andrei was leaning down to unplug your Christmas tree for the night. Your apartment had been decorated since November 1st. A decorated Christmas tree, stockings hanging on the TV stand, tinsel everywhere, Christmas blankets on the couch. Andrei didn’t exactly like decorating for everything. 

He was a bit of a humbug during the holidays. For the first holiday season you shared with him, you chalked it up to the fact that he was missing his family and home. But then, he just wouldn’t decorate. His apartment was always clean and the only decorations was a framed photo of you and him in the living room above the tv. 

“Turning off the tree for bed?” 

You shook your head, “No! It has to stay on! It’s supposed to shine pretty at night!” 

His eyebrows furrowed together but he let it go. You were in your pajamas, Christmas pajama pants and one of Andrei’s shirts. “My place tomorrow night?” he questioned as the two of you made your way to your bedroom. You shrugged, it wasn’t that you hated his apartment. His bed was much softer than yours and Andrei had a shorter drive to the rink from his apartment. You just hated being in the apartment without decorations. 

“Maybe. Can we get a Christmas tree for your place?” 

Andrei thought for a second. “You don’t like staying there? Because no decorations?” 

You nodded sheepishly. “I don’t feel like you’re in the holiday spirit! Your apartment is so… what did that tweet say after the Halloween pictures? It feels sterile! Like so clean and no personalization!” 

“Clean is good! And I have the picture of us!” 

“Just let me decorate?” 

He narrowed his eyes at you as you crawled into bed, covering yourself up in the blankets. “No, it’s too late to decorate anyway, not worth it.” 

Your mouth gaped. “It’s not too late!” 

Andrei always had you check in on his apartment when he was on a roadie. He was gone for practically a week. You unlocked his door, checking in on the apartment he left in perfect condition. Dishes put away, shoes neatly stacked on the rack by the door. 

You didn’t mean to buy a lot of decorations, but you were dragging a heavy Christmas tree box up to his apartment with bags full of additional decorations. Oh Andrei was going to kill you when he got home. His apartment was decorated everywhere. You tried to pick up random pieces of tinsel that fell off as you put it up. You cringed after getting glitter on his couch. 

Andrei wasn’t expecting you to offer to pick him up from the airport. He typically got a ride with one of the other guys but you had offered to pick him up. You nervously tapped on your steering wheel as Andrei got into the car and greeted you with a hard kiss. You were pretty quiet on the ride to his apartment which he found odd. 

“Okay, don’t kill me, but I decorated your apartment.” 

Andrei cocked an eyebrow, “You what?” 

You sighed, “You always get into a humbug mood! It crushes my holiday spirit! I had to do something about it.” 

Andrei entered his apartment behind you. Eyes landing on all the decorations. He barely recognized his own apartment. “If you want, I can take it all down,” you whispered but Andrei pulled you to him. “You did all this for me?” 

You nodded, face turning red. He mumbled an ‘I love you’ in his native language before kissing you. “No more humbug?” you pulled away from the kiss. “No humbug.”

[snow-angel-heart]

@tinsel-shine Now we can match!

(Art by antpony)

[i-want-men-i-cant-have]

𝒿𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒹𝑒𝓊𝓍. 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓁𝑒𝓉𝑜𝑒.

✿ summary: getting stranded at a party might not be the best thing ever, but meeting the famous french striker under mistletoe is definitely a plus

✿ ft. noel noa

sitting alone at the bar at a christmas party you weren't invited to wasn't the best feeling in the world. your best friend, who used you as her work partner's plus one, had left you, preferring to "work." the poor athletes were almost running from her if they saw her, leaving her to wallow in the corner without you.

the non-alcoholic drinks you were forced to consume as the designated driver weren't exactly helping you pass the time, only making your bladder feel smaller and smaller. getting up from the bar, you ventured deeper into the party to find the bathroom.

as you walked, your eyes couldn't help but wander around, trying to find your friend, but to no avail. you slowly remembered what happened right before you entered the party.

"[y/n]! you have to keep your eyes open!"

"what? take a breath-"

"i can't! not when noel noa is here!" she frantically flicked her head from side to side, scanning the empty streets like he was going to appear like magic. 

“that’s the famous striker, right?”

"only the number one striker in the world! you have to find him and call me. if i see him here and interview him, i could get that promotion." she sounded hopeful, a smile on her face, but it dropped, her rbf shining through her happy persona when she saw your skeptical expression.

"pwease [y/n]~" she grabbed your hands and begged, almost getting down on her knees. 

“ok, ok! i’ll help you find this guy. just please get off the floor. someone could have puked on that.”

"thank you, [y/n]!" her bone-crushing hug knocked the wind out of you. once that bodyguard let you in, she ran around like a chicken without a head, trying to find the mystery man. too bad you didn't know what the famous striker looked like. you didn't know his nationality or team; you just knew his name and the position he played. not very helpful.

the tinkling of martini glasses and the sound of heels across the marble floors echoed across the room. popping champagne bottles, squeals, screams, and forced laughter would occasionally pipe up, always sounding the same. a massive christmas tree filled with tinsel, ornaments, lights, and anything else you could imagine decorated the room perfectly, lighting up the space and almost brushing the towering ceilings. you felt like an ant in the room, as if the room knew you didn't belong here.

the bathroom line felt like eternity, like when you were younger and had a nightmare, that stupid clock ticking every second going on until you finally fell asleep under your blankets. soon the line dwindled and dwindled down until you finally could get in and out. you dried your hands on the air dryer and shook your hands to get any remaining water off as you walked out the door.

now, you have nothing to do. you didn't work for this company, hell, you didn't even know what they did. everyone here looked rich and reeked of money. at least when you were in line for the bathroom, you had a purpose. but now you were just standing there. you felt like a ghost, people passing through you, not even acknowledging your existence.

you just wanted to go back to the bar; who cared what look that bartender would give you. so that's what you did, walking past women with candy cane red lips and men who smelled like more than you would ever make in a lifetime. suits and dresses that seemed so foreign to you.

but out of the corner of your eye, you saw your friend in that velvet low-cut tight dress on the second-floor mezzanine. she was talking to some expensive-looking man with a girl probably half his age on his arm; she was putting on that fake smile and laugh.

she had left you for a solid two and a half hours; you were going to hang out with someone. and that someone was going to be her.

so you made your way to the luxurious stairs, cascading velvety carpets that could rival the British monarchs. you excused yourself when you bumped into someone and finally reached the stairs, some men coming down them.

while passing a rather tall and muscular man, one of his friends whistled and laughed at the man who paused, along with you. both of you turned to see his friends; the one whistling and giggling looked way too drunk to be going anywhere near stairs. the man was holding onto a bland-looking one with blue eyes who looked rather nervous, trying to steady the swaying one.

you shot him a confused glance, your eyebrows raising in confusion, before turning your attention to the man standing beside you. his head was tilted upward, his gaze fixated on an arrangement of ferns- mistletoe, delicately suspended above. the soft glow from twinkling fairy lights adorned the surroundings.

in that moment, realization dawned upon you, and your eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and understanding. the air around you felt harder to inhale. you instinctively took a step back, caught off guard by the situation. however, the man beside you moved quicker than you’ve ever seen, his eyes widening in concern.

time seemed to slow as his arms encircled you, preventing any further descent down the stairs. the touch was both reassuring and electrifying. as you looked up into his eyes, you couldn't help but notice the subtle warmth that lingered. it felt so cliche. 

"are you alright?" his voice was filled with genuine concern, and you could feel yourself relax into his arms with those words.

but even with his words, your mind trailed off, going to admire him. what was he? a model? his cologne smells expensive, like every other perfume and cologne here, but at the same time it was distinct. there was an underlying uniqueness, a grounding minimalism that set it apart. you couldn't quite pinpoint it, but it held an allure that was nothing like you ever felt before.

you felt gross, disgusted even at what you were doing, taking him in like this, memorizing the details- his scent, the curve of his lips. god, you felt like a pervert. you chided yourself, feeling a twinge of discomfort at your own actions.

"i'm fine... sorry about that," you stammered, breaking the spell of your silent observations. awkwardness settled in, magnified by the awareness that his friends, the blonde one with a sly smirk and the black-haired one appearing uneasy, were keenly observing the exchange. your gaze flickered between them, questioning the dynamics of the trio.

"it’s fine. as long as you’re alright." the moment ended with him helping you back onto your feet, looking you over to double-check if you weren't lying.

"it's fine. as long as you're alright," he reassured, gracefully helping you back onto your feet. his lingering concern painted a genuine sincerity across his features, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of gratitude. as the moment concluded, his eyes scanned over you once more, ensuring your well-being. 

“don’t forget-” hick “to kiss you two,” the drunk man laughed hard, almost falling off of the bland one's shoulder who grabbed him quickly.

"don't forget-" a hiccup interrupted the drunken man's proclamation, “to kiss you two,” he abruptly erupted into laughter, teetering dangerously on the edge of his bland companion's shoulder. 

who the hell was this guy? your life wasn't some circus to watch, forcing you to kiss this random stranger.

"i'm sorry about him," the boy apologized, his eyes reflecting a mix of embarrassment and genuine remorse. "come on, let's go." he attempted to drag the blonde one down the stairs, who continued to whine about wanting to witness some "action." eventually, the duo disappeared, leaving you and the intriguing white-haired man alone on the stairs.

the silence that followed carried a unique tension, the remnants of an awkward encounter mingling with the loud ambiance of the surroundings. The mistletoe above seemed to cast a soft glow, as if nature itself was conspiring against you two.

"that guy’s something," you remarked, breaking the quietude with a light-hearted tone, attempting to diffuse the lingering discomfort. The white-haired man offered a wry smile, his eyes holding a subtle amusement that hinted at shared bemusement.

“so… why are you here?” you ask him to try to prolonged the conversation for as long as possible.

"They're organizing this celebration for my team."

“you’re team?” you ask a little confused.

“Bastard München” he responds curtley.

Realization finally dawns on you, and you recognize the man in front of you.

“are you- are you noel noa?” you stammered, feeling like some teenage girl. you didn’t even know much about this guy, but your friend went on and on about him. you always tuned her out, but she seemed so passionate about him.

“kiss! smoochie smoochie time~!”

“kaiser!” 

"get-" a loud grunting noise left the blonde, and a squawking noise left the other, "off of me, isagi!" they struggled against each other, arms reaching out to try and push them off each other.

“i thought they left,” you tried to laugh but when you looked back at the famous man in front of you, you stopped. his face almost seemed blank with a tinge of surprise if you could even call it that.

“it can’t be helped,” he sighed, his voice carrying a gentle undertone that resonated with unspoken emotions. as he reached up, his fingers delicately traced the outline of your face, tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. his eyes, a reflection of emotions too deep for words, held yours in a silent conversation.

a quiet pause lingered in the air, building anticipation, before he slowly leaned in. in that moment, time seemed to suspend, and the world around you faded away. 

his breath, warm against your skin, and as he closed the distance between you, his lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss starting with a tender press of lips. both of your arms remained at your sides not wanting to overstep the invisible boundary. even without hands, it was as if each touch was a gentle caress, a delicate deliberate pressure. the sensation was feather-light, a sweet brush of affection that spoke volumes in its subtlety. each movement was a caress, as if exploring the contours of your lips in a sweet, unhurried dance. it was the opposite of forceful, a slow, deliberate exploration, leaving a lingering warmth.

even when he pulled away, cheeks dusted pink, promising his manager would send you tickets to the next match, you could still smell that expensive cologne after he left.

[sparkle-fiend]

Fruity Four Advent Calendar, Day 21: “Midwinter Night”

When they come across the tree in Walmart, Eddie practically starts to vibrate with excitement. "We gotta get it, Steve, please. Please, please, please. I need that tree."

They're shopping for decorations for their first ever apartment together, and they do need a tree, but... "Why that one?" It's obviously artificial, 7 ft tall and solid white. 

"We never had space for a real tree, so Wayne got a little plastic one that fit on the coffee table. It looked just like this one." Eddie waves his hand at the tree in question, like a magician showing off a trick. "I loved that thing." 

Looking at his boyfriend's bright, hopeful face, Steve easily concedes. 

They add some ornaments, a string of rainbow-colored lights, and a tinsel star to complete the recreation of Eddie's childhood tree. 

Once it’s all set up, they stand back and admire the way the lights shine pink, blue, yellow, and green against the white branches. It does look pretty; plus, Steve’s father would hate it - which adds to the appeal. 

(Sometimes the flash of colored light makes his heart race, bringing to mind the memory of a charging demogorgon, or the burst of fireworks against melted flesh in the atrium of Starcourt mall - but Steve ignores it. It'll be fine.)

It is fine... until it's not.

***

Steve comes home, tired and feeling the start of a migraine. He heads through the living room toward the kitchen, intending to grab some water and a Tylenol - when the upstairs neighbor cuts on a vacuum. The muted roar doesn't sound much like a demogorgon, but with the Christmas lights twinkling nearby it's enough to trip something in Steve's weary brain.

He's not in their apartment anymore. He's in the dimly lit hallway of the Byers' house, the smell of gasoline burning in his nose. The lights are flashing, which means the monster is coming - but he doesn't have his bat. He fumbles around the coffee table, searching... it was just here a minute ago, right? His heart is pounding like a drum, pulse rushing loud enough to muffle the voice calling his name.

"Steve? Steve?!"

He can't tell if it's Nancy or Jonathan, but they sound frightened. "Hold on Nance!"

Warm hands grip him by the shoulders. "STEVE!!"

If he doesn't find that bat they're going to die, and it'll be his fault... all his fault... 

"Please baby, come back to me. It's okay - you're okay."

It's not Nancy or Jonathan. Not Robin or Dustin or Erica calling his name.

It's Eddie leaning over him, dark curls falling like a curtain over Steve's face. His cheek is smudged, and for a second Steve thinks it's blood. They're back in the Upside Down and Eddie is bleeding out under his hands...

"Steve," Eddie says softly. He's warm and healthy, wounds sealed into scars; and the smudge on his cheek is just sauce. 

Because he was in the kitchen cooking dinner. Steve can smell it now, sausage and tomato and garlic.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Eddie asks gently.

Steve tries to explain without mentioning the lights, but Eddie knows him too well. He asks just the right questions to work it all out, and the look of guilt that crosses his face hurts worse than a blow to the head. 

Eddie gets up and goes to the tree, yanking the plug from the wall and plunging the room into gloomy darkness. "Ed, you don't have to do that..."

"I do Steve, I absolutely do.”

Steve sighs. It's the night of the winter solstice - the longest, darkest night of the year. It'll be even darker with the tree stripped of lights. "At least wait until tomorrow."

Eddie pauses his task of carefully unwinding the light strands from the tree without disturbing the ornaments. "Come here." He tugs Steve off the floor and maneuvers him onto the sofa. 

"Lay down for a minute, okay? I got this." He fetches a cool cloth and a glass of water, along with the Tylenol Steve originally meant to find.

"What about dinner?"

"It's done. I'll just pop it in the fridge, and we can eat when you're feeling better."

Steve wants to protest, but the pain in his temples has escalated to a blinding pitch. He agrees to close his eyes for just a minute - drifting off to the sound of Eddie humming softly in the background.

He wakes to the same sound and assumes that only a few minutes have passed; until he sees the clock. "Two hours? Shit, you shouldn't have let me sleep so long!"

Eddie shrugs. "You needed it. Besides, I had to run an errand."

He leans behind the tree and plugs a cord into the outlet, filling the room with a soft yellow glow. Apparently, Eddie had replaced the lights while he slept.  Clear, simple bulbs - no frills or flashing patterns. "Are these okay? Be honest." 

Steve nods. It's not as pretty as it was before, but it's comforting; like the lamp he used to keep by his bed. 

Eddie reheats dinner and they eat it straight from the pot, so there won't be more dishes to worry over. The plan was to watch a movie, but Steve is still exhausted even after his nap - worn out by the headache and the panic attack; so they just cuddle together in front of the tree.

Curled against Eddie, head resting easy on his boyfriend’s shoulder, Steve says, “I'm sorry about the tree. It doesn't look like the one you had growing up anymore."

Eddie puts an arm around him and squeezes. "I like this better. We're making a new tradition."

[7s3ven]

BUY ME PRESENTS. harry potter

( master list )

IN WHICH… Y/N L/N’s situationship, Matteo Riddle, isn’t the best boyfriend material and when he forgets to buy her a Christmas present, she finally breaks it off. Luckily, she knows someone who’ll do everything Matteo didn’t.

“Some guys get the girl everybody wants and forget she’s still the girl everybody wants.”

MERRY CHRISTMAS GUYS! - 25/12/2023

Warning: Matteo and Y/N kinda swear a lot, oh well

“It's a packed holiday and I got options, babe. If you don't wanna buy me presents. Drink me like a warm glass of milk

If you're not gonna race here from the North Pole to Beverly Hills. Just to keep my stocking filled. Well, I know somebody who will.”

—

Christmas and winter was a big deal at Hogwarts. Long strings of tinsel littered the stone hallways and shiny, delicate ornaments were hung up everywhere.

A H/C-haired girl rocked back and forth on her heels as she waited outside the Slytherin common room. She sighed, clicking her tongue. “What’s taking him so long?” She whispered under her breath.

Matteo was usually one to be late, but not on important days. Today was Christmas for goodness sake, Y/N’s favorite holiday.

Finally, the door to the common room slid open and Matteo walked out. His white shirt was messily tucked into his pants and the top few buttons were undone, irking Y/N who always looked perfect.

“Yo, Clarisse said you wanted to talk to me. Shoot.” Matteo shoved his hands into his pockets while Y/N lightly scoffed.

“Did you forget what day it is?” She questioned, arching an eyebrow. If the present in her hand didn’t give it away then she didn’t know what else would.

“Monday?”

“It’s Christmas, Matteo.” Y/N uttered, “Does that jog your memory?”

“Oh, yeah. I just woke up so I’m still dazed.”

Y/N could smell the cigarette smoke in his breath. “Or stoned. Why are you still smoking? You know how I hate it.”

Matteo carelessly shrugged. “It relieves stress, babe. I am quitting. Just give me like, two more months and I’ll be done.”

Y/N bit back a snarky retort. He always said he was quitting but he never actually did. “Well, anyway, I got you a gift. Merry Christmas, Matt.” She held the box up, smiling.

Matteo slowly took it. He opened the lid, his eyebrows raising at what was inside. “You got me… something from Vivienne Westwood?” It was clear that Matteo wasn’t as rich as his Slytherin friends were. With no parents or caretaker, all he could do was leech off people.

“It’s a lighter. You never light the candles in your room, which is… weird because that’s what they’re for. But, I guess you can use it to light cigars too. I also overheard Draco complaining about how he doesn’t have that but wants it. You can fit in with your friends with it.” Y/N shrugged.

“Jeez. This must’ve cost a lot.” Matteo held the lighter in his hand, whistling at how it shined. “Fucking hell.”

“Hey, Matty, we’re gonna open presents. You joining us?” A slim blond girl peeked her head out of the common room, grinning. “I got you a real good present this time.”

“You’re too sweet, Lina. I’ll be in a minute. I think you’ll like your present too.” Matteo chuckled before he glanced back at Y/N. “What are you still doing here?”

“What? No present for me?” Y/N said it in a joking manner to hide the pit she felt in her stomach.

“Why would I get you something?”

Y/N lightly scoffed. “I don’t know, Matteo. Maybe because we’ve been seeing each other for the past year?”

“Hey. We haven’t been seeing each other. I just find you when I want a good fuck. Know your place, Y/N. It’s not like we’re dating.”

Y/N sharply clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Right.” She sarcastically smiled, “What was I thinking? My place is obviously to be at your beck and call. My apologies for the mixup. Have a good day, Matteo.”

Y/N spun around, walking away. She heard Matteo laugh in disbelief and one part of her wished he would run after her and hand her a gift. He didn’t. He strutted back into the Slytherin chamber and back to those insufferable girls.

Y/N sat on the stairs amongst the green, red, and white decorations, staring at the ground. She was clad in a short black and white fur blazer and a skirt. Fleece leggings lined her legs, keeping her warm, and she had her Ravenclaw scarf wrapped around her neck.

She lightly sniffled, playing with a silver bracelet her friend had given to her as an early present. She wasn’t too sure what she was upset about right now.

Perhaps it was because she was lonely in the Ravenclaw common room. Everybody was gone, not even her study partner had stayed behind this year. Or maybe it was because of a certain brown-haired boy who was as heartless and oblivious as always.

It was most likely the latter.

Y/N wanted to feel happy, especially since today was Christmas, a holiday she enjoyed a little too much. But with no friends to laugh with, no family to return to, and not even a boy to sit next to the fire with, she felt sad.

“Are you actually crying?”

Y/N hadn’t even noticed Matteo approach her until it was too late. At least he had thought twice before leaving her alone.

He stood in front of her, fiddling with the multiple rings that adorned his long fingers. “Seriously, Y/N? Just because I didn’t get you a Christmas gift?”

Y/N glared up at him. “Can you try being nice for one second? Who knows, you might like it.” Throughout the whole year, Matteo and Y/N had something going on. They were never in a confirmed relationship but they weren’t merely friends either.

Though, in the past few months, the two couldn’t seem to stop bantering.

“Look, I’ll get you a gift tomorrow. Happy?”

Y/N quietly scoffed as she stood up. “No. You always forget things like these, Matteo. It’s getting annoying.” Y/N turned around to walk up the stairs but she barely took two steps before Matteo grabbed her wrist.

“Where are you going? I thought we were going to spend Christmas together.”

Y/N tauntingly raised an eyebrow at Matteo. “You were giving me the silent treatment up until now. I had to bribe that girl, Clair or whatever her name was, to let me see you.”

“Her name is Clarisse.” Matteo corrected her.

Y/N stared at him, wondering how he thought it was a good time to correct her. “What? I’m trying to make a point here and you’re concerned about her name? Unbelievable. Maybe I should find some people who actually enjoy my presence.”

Matteo sneered. “So, what? You just gonna go back to that Potter boy? You’re leading him on, Y/N. We both know your heart belongs to me.”

“Belonged.” Y/N corrected him, “Past tense. This thing we have between us is done. I’m not going to be a stupid late night call for you anymore.” She forced Matteo to let go of her and walked away, ignoring his shouts that echoed around the corridors.

“I taught you everything! I taught you how to stand up for yourself! I made you popular! I practically created you from nothing!” Matteo angrily exclaimed at the bottom of the steps. “You can’t leave me!”

Y/N glanced over her shoulder at the enraged brunette. She smiled. “Watch me.”

The last thing Y/N heard Matteo say was when he furiously shouted her name, his booming voice showcasing his fiery rage.

Y/N knocked against the Gryffindor painting, sighing. The Fat Lady seemed to notice her mood.

“What happened this time?” She asked. Matteo and Y/N were no secret; they were the talk of the school with Matteo being Voldemort’s son and Y/N’s cousin being a death-eater. A year ago, it was even rumoured she was one herself.

Y/N stared up at the Fat Lady with teary eyes. “Matteo. I… broke it off with me.”

“Oh, honey, I know it may not seem like it now, but it was the right decision.”

Y/N softly smiled. “I know… I know.”

“Are you here to see the Potter boy?”

“Yes. Is he here?” Y/N wasn’t even sure if Harry was at Hogwarts. During second year, he had gone to stay with Ron.

“Of course. And the Weasley boy and the Granger girl. They’re all here.” The Fat Lady swung backwards, smiling, “Go on, dear.”

Y/N stepped into the Gryffindor common room, looking around. “Harry? Hello? Anybody here?” The room was empty. Y/N glanced over at the crackling fire and went to sit beside it, warning her cold hands.

She quietly clicked her tongue, staring at the blazing flames.

“Y/N?” Hermione questioned, walking up behind the H/C-nette, “What’s wrong?” Y/N quickly stood up, embracing her brown-haired friend into a tight hug.

“I did it.” She whispered, “I ended things with Matt- I mean, Riddle.”

“Oh… Are you feeling okay?” Hermione gently sat Y/N down on the couch, rubbing comforting circles into her back. “Do you want anything? Any water or food?”

Y/N stared at her hands. “Is… Harry here?”

“Yeah. I’ll get him.” Hermione stood up and went to fetch the boy. “She and Matteo broke things off.” She whispered in Harry’s ear, which sent a rush of excitement through the brunette. He never did like Matteo after all. He was a playboy to put it simply. Not only that, but for the longest time Harry had liked Y/N.

Matteo didn’t appreciate her but Harry did. He could treat her better than Matteo ever could.

“Hermione told me what happened. Are you okay?” Harry sat down beside Y/N, holding a neatly wrapped present. He heard Y/N heave a sigh.

“I think… I mean, obviously I’m a little sad but it feels good knowing I won’t have to deal with his annoying ass again.” Y/N uttered, eliciting a small amused chuckle out of Harry.

“Yeah… I got you something, by the way.” Harry handed the gift over to Y/N with shaking hands.

“Oh… that’s sweet. You didn’t have to.” She smiled, carefully unwrapping the present.

“I wanted to… you said that was your favorite book so I bought you the limited edition cover one… with a bit more.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows in confusion as Harry. She slowly opened the novel to a page tabbed with a (favorite color) sticker note.

Merry Christmas, Y/N. Thank you for being such a loyal fan throughout my career.

- Your favorite author

Underneath the short message was the writer’s signature as well as a polaroid picture of Harry and the author.

“Oh my gosh… how did you… what…” Y/N was at a loss for words as she turned to Harry and tightly hugged him. “I don’t have a present for you… I’m sorry.”

Harry smiled as Y/N pulled away. “It’s fine. Having you here makes up for it.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N furrowed her brows, “I can buy you something tomorrow. Or I’m sure I have a have a golden snitch lying around here somewhere.” Y/N pulled a snitch from out of her pocket, “Remember this, Harry? You almost choked to death on it in your first game.”

“What the… how did you…” Harry was as flabbergasted as Y/N now. She laughed, handing it over to him.

“Well, after you almost swallowed it, nobody really wanted to play with it anymore. So I asked Wood to get it for me. We spent a good time cleaning it.”

Harry chuckled, staring at the small golden ball in awe. “That’s… amazing. Jeez. Riddle really doesn’t deserve you.”

Y/N’s shoulders visibly shrunk at the mentioning of the brunette’s name.

“Oh…” Harry instantly noticed, “Sorry, too soon?”

Y/N silently shook her head. “No… I’m fine…” She turned her head, beaming at Harry with a smile that made him melt. “You’re right, he didn’t deserve me. Thank you for the book, Harry. It’s wonderful.”

She embraced him once again and Harry could feel his cheeks heat up at the contact. There was a small jingle and as Y/N lifted her head, she couldn’t help but laugh.

Mistletoe floated above the pair, jingling as if to remind the two it was there. Harry gazed over Y/N’s shoulder at Ron, who held his wand in one hand and was giving Harry a thumbs up with the other.

“It’d be rude to defy the rules of Christmas, especially with how much you love it.” Harry uttered.

Y/N laughed again. “I suppose so.”

“You don’t have to kiss me for real. You can kiss me on the cheek or something or”- Harry was cut off when Y/N grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him forward and kissing him.

Harry was the complete opposite of Matteo. The Slytherin boy was rough and uncaring while Harry was soft and gentle. The brunette with glasses carefully grasped Y/N’s hands, squeezing them tightly.

“I don’t know if this is too soon, Y/N.” Harry said as he pulled away slightly. “But, I like you. I’ve liked you for ages. Ever since first year. And the only reason I didn’t like Riddle was because I hated how he had managed to attract your attention. I think you’re wonderful and you shouldn’t be stuck with someone like Riddle. You don’t have to give me your answer now… but just consider it.”

Y/N gazed at Harry, her heart doing flips in her chest. This was a feeling she hadn’t felt in a long time. She shyly adverted her eyes. “I… I don’t know what to say Harry. I think I like you too… but I feel like it’s too soon.”

“I don’t mind waiting. I just need you to know that I’m willing to race here from the North Pole to Beverly Hills. Just to keep your stocking filled.”

Y/N giggled. “That’s cute, Harry.” She leaned forward, pressing another chaste kiss to his lips. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”

START OF TERM (BONUS)…

“What the fuck, asshole?!” Matteo’s loud shout caused the Great Hall to fall into silence. They all watched as he stormed towards the Gryffindor table, slamming his hands in front of Harry. “You kissed my girl!” He exclaimed.

Y/N turned her head, staring at Matteo with furrowed eyebrows.

“What’s going on?” Her friend tugged on her sleeve.

“I’m… not sure.” Y/N replied, craning to get a better look.

“What are you talking about, Riddle?” Harry asked, confused.

“You know who the fuck I’m talking about! Y/N fucking L/N! You kissed her!” Matteo was getting angrier by the second.

“Hey, dude, relax.” Lorenzo grabbed Matteo by the shoulders, forcing him out of the Great Hall. The rest of his friend group followed.

Y/N sighed, standing up. “I’m going to talk to Matteo.” She announced.

“What? Are you crazy?” Her friend tried to get Y/N to sit back down again.

“He deserves an explanation… and I also want to make it clear that we’re no longer a thing.” Y/N followed after the Slytherin gang and jogged to walk beside Pansy, who was lagging behind.

“What’s gotten into him?” Y/N questioned Pansy, who seemed to like her the best out of all the girls Matteo hooked up with.

“I don’t know.” Pansy sighed, “He just started acting mental after he found out you and Potter were going out. But, he doesn’t really deserve to be mad when it’s his fault.”

“Matt, dude, what’s gotten into you?” Theodore asked as Matteo silently seethed.

“I fucking hate Potter.” He uttered through gritted teeth. He looked up, spotting Y/N. Instantly, the fire in his eyes disappeared.

“Riddle.” Y/N greeted him calmly, nodding her head in acknowledgment. “There seems to be a misunderstanding.”

“Why did you kiss Potter?” Matteo demanded, clenching his hands into fists.

“Why can’t I? I’m free to do whatever I want. After all, it’s not like we’re dating, right? You said it yourself.”

Matteo angrily exhaled.

“Besides, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna kill me, Matteo?” Y/N taunted. “Like you said last year because you didn’t want to commit to someone? Instead of committing to a girl, you would rather kill her?”

“It was a joke!”

“Jokes are supposed to be funny! Fuck you, Matteo! You piece of shit!”

Matteo, in a surge of rage, grabbed Y/N by the collar. Lorenzo stepped forward to interrupt the situation, but Harry beat him to it.

“Don’t touch her.” Harry glowered at Matteo as he pulled Y/N away from his grasp. “You made your choice. Deal with it because it’s your fault you lost Y/N in the first place.”

Y/N sighed, brushing the wrinkles out of her blouse. “I hope we can talk again under better circumstances, Riddle. Good day.”

Y/N walked off and Harry followed close behind.

“How good did that feel?” He questioned, grinning.

“It felt amazing!” Y/N grinned, “I can’t believe I just sweared at the Matteo Riddle and got away with it.”

“So, what do you say we have some fruitcakes and figgy pudding to celebrate?” Harry slung an arm around Y/N’s shoulder while she playfully scoffed.

“It’s January, Harry.”

“Yeah? So? It’s never too early to celebrate Christmas.”