#I don’t think I really go into all this in Holly Jolly but it’s the background hc I’m using for the world

[herbalsingularitea]

Okay lemme just gab about my Scott Santafication hc real quick

Cause like in tsc1 he asks that one elf “who’s your boss?” and she’s like “you are” right? But then he asks “no no who’s the head elf?” and she says “YOU are”

But Bernard is the Head Elf, isn’t he? Okay, so I have some thoughts.

Spoilers for the series.

I feel like there’s alot of hc you could create from this interaction. Maybe Head Elf wasn’t actually a position until after Scott became Santa? Maybe previous Santa’s were called Head Elf and Bernard took over that particular role and some of its duties because Scott was human and not fully able to perform like previous Santas were? Maybe there was a distinction between Head Elf and Arch Elf as titles and things just evolved to where there was just Head Elf and Santa instead? Maybe that elf thought Scott said “head of the elves” and it was a miscommunication? Lots of possibilities.

But personally here’s what I think. I think original Santa, a “celestial being”, was something like an angel, but not in a religious way. More like a fae who’s actual species was slightly more powerful than the elves who would also be considered fae. Fae here being used as an umbrella term for magical folks/creatures. In fantasy, there’s sometimes the concept of elves vs high elves. I’m thinking something similar to that.

So previous Santas were high elves. They were ageless and beautiful ethereal beings. They had snow white hair, jolly temperaments, and most likely they had pointy ears. (Side note: I also hc that Santa isn’t ‘old’ physically, he’s albino. When Scott turns into Santa, he isn’t aging, he’s just losing all his melanin and that’s also why Santas are so rosy)

Santa held the title of Arch Elf and he performed many of the duties that Bernard does now in the ‘Scott as Santa’ era. Over time this just became known as Head Elf.

Sometime around the 20th century, the popularity of Santa began to skyrocket and more children began believing in him. Of course, this increased their workload exponentially. The Santa at the time, the one right before Scott, then appointed Bernard as Head Elf instead and gave him a lot of his duties to help deal with the added work. Was there a leader elf before that? Yes, probably. And that was most likely still Bernard, but he did alot less work back then and wasn’t officially called Head Elf. At the same time, that Santa and Bernard were probably beginning to talk about making a human the next Santa. A human isn’t an elf, so of course they wouldn’t be able to have the title of Head Elf.

So when Scott asks who’s the Head Elf and that elf answers that he is, it’s an understandable mistake. Usually Santa would be the Head Elf. But the old Santa gave that title to Bernard within the past century. Making new titles as time goes on and work increases would also explain why in the series Noel is Number One and Betty is the Head Elf when Bernard was both before. It’s just more delegation.

Anyways that’s it, that’s all. Back to work, please. Thank you.

[00kittenz]

── close to you. ( sjy ) ☕️

๑ All your boyfriend wants is to feel closer to you, but you’ve been so tired and so busy these days </3

pair: needy bf!jake ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: smut, pwp, (some) angst, fluff, very needy + attention starved jake, exhausted reader, jake just wants to touch you— feel a bit closer to you :(, small argument, make-up s.x, c.ck warming, oral (f. rec), unprotected s.x | words: 1.4k

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“baby ! you’re finally back home, it’s super late..” jake was happy to see you again but soon frowned upon your tired, dull appearance, taking you in his hold straight away. “i made dinner.” his firm hands swam across your back, whilst spreading honeyed kisses along the crown of your head.

“thanks but, i’m way too tired to eat..” he watched as your slouched figure laced against his, all your weight accompanying his.

“but you have to, princess.” “sometimes we have to do things we don’t wanna do.”

“yeah, but—”

“no !, you aren’t gonna starve on my watch, i don’t care how sleepy you are.” jake scolds your stubbornness, his eyes catching yours for a moment, staring straight into him. he hates how tired you looked, but also loved how good you looked when you’re tired.

the look in your eyes giving him a lusty reminiscent, something he’s seen before. it reminded him of how little of time you have to see him these days, you’re always coming home late because of work. it’s even worse that you just come home and go straight to sleep without a single spoken word some days. he feels neglected at times, but he’s just too scared to ever say anything— which only makes him even more anxious; the cycle just continues to spiral…

“jakee..” you childishly whined, you didn’t even wanna move your jaws to talk to him, that’s how drained you were at the moment.

“i’ll feed you, is that fine ? just eat mama.”

he was so gentle and patient with you. and that’s all you needed for nights like these to put you at ease.

you simply nod in response.

๑ ๑ ๑

“would you stop it already !” you heave out a heavy sigh. jake just wouldn’t stop touching and squeezing you. you were beyond tired, but now you’re tired and aggravated.

“what..”

“don’t play dumb, you know what.” your hands grasp onto his forearm, removing his form on your waist. “it’s too hot.”

“but baby,” jake sulked, “what about me..”

“what about you ? what do you mean ?” you furrowed your brows as if they could furrow any further than they were.

“don’t you ever think about how i feel ?” “you leave me alone all day, then you come home and never— you never wanna discuss how our days have went.. y’know? like old times.” he bravely spoke, he didn’t care if you’d get mad at him for speaking his mind, it’s how he truly felt. he missed you, what else could he really do. “don’t you know how that makes me feel? how i feel when you don’t ever wanna talk to me ?”

you could only look at him in shock and disbelief, wondering where this was coming from all of a sudden. “you really expect me to come home holly and jolly after a full 8 hour shift ?” you scoffed, sitting up in your place. “i work all goddamn day, and what do you do? clean ? cook ? i provide everything you fucking need. you should be more than a-okay.”

“is it not enough ? do you want more ? what do you want from me, jake !” you didn’t mean for your voice to raise louder, it just came out that way, his body language visibly shifts once he heard that, going in defensive mode.

“no !” he didn’t know what else to say, he couldn’t say much of anything else, if he really spoke his mind then things would go south, quickly.

“no? are you serious right now?” jake felt his heart sink at your sudden outburst of laughter. what was so funny to you? he felt mocked. played with even. it’s like you don’t even care about this relationship anymore.

“i don’t even want any of that shit, y/n. i never asked you for anything, nothing.” “all i want is you, do you not fucking see that !” “i’m human too, doll. i need attention, love, i want you that’s all. that’s all that fucking matters to me. so.. please.”

your boyfriend was practically begging for you. he shouldn’t have to. he was right, you felt sorry for him, the one thing that kept him going leaves him alone majority of the time. leaving him miserable, repeating the same, monotonous routine all damn day.

“jake.. ‘m sorry, i just. don’t have any energy. for this right now.” “im just, so ... stressed.”

“i understand that, but you have to talk to me baby. you’re constantly keeping to yourself, i’m here to help you yet all you’re doing is pushing me away. i just want you to know that i’m here.. ” his hands glide up your arms, squeezing your shoulders. gently massaging them.

“you know, you’re so tense mama..”

“hm ? i am ?” you groan at the attention your shoulders were receiving, you always loved when he gives you massages.

“let me relieve you. you won’t have to do anything. just let me make you feel good.”

๑ ๑ ๑

“hah.. jake...” sweat glistened across your forehead, your back arched against the ivory bedding you found yourself grabbing ahold of.

jake delicately tore through your folds, like he was savouring every bit of you. like this would be the last time he would have you. his breath skimming over your dripping core, leaving your tummy all fuzzy inside. you missed this. so fucking much. fuck.

“ba..baby..” your fingers played with his hair, “so good, yessyes..” your thighs were constantly forcing themselves closed at the tingly sensation he made between them. his tongue thrusting into your sweet left you absolutely phenomenal.

๑ ๑ ๑

after a while, jake pokes his head from between your legs. the transparent juices adorning his pretty lips— and chin. a giggle escaping your lips as he puckers his lips at you. wearing your residue as a lip gloss.

“nuhuh !” you squirm, not very fond of the idea of basically eating yourself out as jake attempted to place wet kisses onto your lips, instead landing everywhere but them. “ewie !”

“oh shut up, you taste quite swell actually.” he rolled his eyes, finally giving in, licking his lips. “toss over for me, babygirl.” he tapped your hips, getting a pillow ready to place under your build. then after, fondling with the waistband of his pants.

the feel of jake crawling over you, caging you in. made your stomach bubble, tired ? who said you were tired ?? you sure didn’t. (yes you did.)

“mama, top drawer.” he demanded of you, tapping on your ass, as if it was a drum.

“i dun’ wanna..” you look back at him with pleading eyes.

“y’sure ?” jake assured you, unsure of the thought of you not wanting to use a rubber.

“mhm !” you swayed your rear from side to side, as if rushing him to get inside you already. impatient motherfucker.

“you on the pill?”

“no.. but i was thinking of having your baby so—” you teased, giggling as if to make your response sound the least bit innocent.

you were cut off by the fill he added of you, how much of a tight fit he was for you. he hasn’t fucked you in a while so you’d have to get used to this again. jake could say the same, as if he wasn’t being squeezed to death. all he could do was try and catch his breath.

“you good ?” he asked, wanting to know if it was okay for him to move. pacing himself as soon as he got your okay.

“hell yeah..” jake giggled at your response, picking up his speed just a little.

all you could think about was how he had you mewling, your vision going blurry. he was fucking you numb. you needed him more than anything right now. the sound of your squelching, sticky pussy being rammed into relentlessly echoed between the walls.

“fuckfuckfuck !” you bit harshly at your lip, almost enough to draw blood, drooling onto the fathomed sheets.

jake was driving you merely insane, whispering sweet nothings into your ear while ruining your tight dewy pussy. his dick spreads you so well, throbbing and pulsating inside your heat.

“so goddamn good, mama. taking me so well.” he puckered sloppy kisses along your nape, to your shoulders, nibbling at the soft flesh. pumping into you more aggressively. your head gently met the headboard from time to time.

he never wanted this moment to end. you could say the same, as if his dick weren’t devouring you whole.

you ended up calling out “sick” from work the next morning. as tired as you were, you hadn’t got a wink of sleep— but most of the blame could be pinned onto your insatiable boyfriend, jake.

U⁠^⁠ｪ⁠^⁠U

[luckykiwiii101]

Hey Upper East Siders. Want to play a game…? One condition, this time you HAVE to play by the rules. Or it’s game over…

- XoXo, Gossip Girl 💋 💌

And who am i? That’s one secret i’ll never tell, You know you love me - XoXo, Gossip Girl 💋 💌

————————————————————————————————————————

♥️🖤♥️🖤♥️🖤♥️🖤♥️🖤♥️🖤♥️🖤♥️🖤♥️🖤

————————————————————————————————————————

Hey Upper east siders.

It’s that time of year again. When the sleigh bells are jingling and people add more items to their never ending wish list.What if i told you…it’s more than just a wish list.Ever wanted something so bad that you would do ANYTHING to get it? Well luckily, i’m not talking about signing a contract in blood. You don’t even have to lift a finger, nor shed any blood…or tears. You can have everything you’ve ever wished for.You just have to play a little game. Will you accept this dance…? If the answer is yes…keep on reading.

Now that we’re nice and ready. We can get started on this super quick and fun journey. If i didn’t say this earlier, GOSSIP GIRL HERE!! and i have the BIGGEST news ever! YOU will have entered/woke up in the void state within a week and manifested your dream life! Maybe you’ll do it in less than a week, and have a holly jolly Christmas XoXo. Just depends on how determined you are.

You know what happens if you aren’t…right? There are two outcomes. Let’s go over them shall we..?

“Will you have this dance..?” “No”

(Option A)

SPOTTED: Lonely Boy. Can’t believe they didn’t want their dream life, only in exchange for a little persistence. How tragic……And EVERYONE is talking. Wonder what Blair Waldorf thinks. If only they knew how easy life was…

“Will have you this dance…?” “Yes”

(Option B)

SPOTTED: SPOTTED, On the steps of the Met: B. Looking perfect, as usual. Feeling perfect, as usual. Having everything they’ve ever wanted. So much for such little “work”. Did they really think they could just waltz over here and not manifest their dream life? So effortless, it’s almost funny.

So……Which do you choose?

(thought so)

Option B?! Good choice. Looks like Little J will have everything they want and a ticket to the inner circle. Why waste precious time dreaming when waking life is SO much better?

Luckily, your journey will be very short, and VERY sweet.

YOU’VE BEEN INVITED!

Serena Van Der Woodsen, your invitations just arrived. With strings attached. Come out, come out, wherever you are.

Gossip Girl here…enough with the stalling. Now for the main event.

You will spend the next 7 days, accepting that you are a void master.

What is the void state?

Well well well. Look what we have here. An overcomplicator on our hands, caught red handed. (Just kidding, XoXo)

It’s a state of pure consciousness. When you are detached from your physical senses completely. You can’t hear, see, smell or feel anything. Must be heaven if your name is Dan Humphrey.

Did you know, that you enter the void state everytime you fall asleep? Shocked? Well don’t be. It’s nothing special. Things always work out for you after all, should be used to it by now. Doesn’t it feel weird to finally have Gossip Girl on YOUR side? Can’t wait to pry into your success soon……and write ALLLLLL about it. You better not disappoint me, you know what happens next. Don’t wanna end up like lonely boy……do you?

“But i don’t believe in the Void State.”

- Said no sane person ever. Unless your Queen B with a broken heart.

Here you go! 💋💌💋

Does little J want a virtual slap of common sense? Don’t tempt me. A few clicked pics of your journey home could turn into a journey to hell. You know you love me. XoXo.

How do I enter the void state?

(Here you go 💌💌💌)

Looks like entering the void state really IS sugar and spice and EVERYTHING nice after all.

Hear those silver bells? It’s a void master INCOMING!!!

Applying states for the void state:

(Here you go! 💋💌💋💌)

And everyone knows the biggest present comes in the smallest box………not so difficult after all.

Then there are those boxes you are SO glad you opened.

“Challenges” to apply:

EVERYONE knows that there’s no such thing as a “challenge”.

“Take one It Girl on a pedestal. Add a crowd eager to see her fall. And give them the means to knock her down. So sad how they know they’ll only be the ones who end up falling” - XoXo Gossip Girl

Is Queen B Feeling frustrated? : (Lotusmi’s void challenge)

Always finding your hands in your hair and your fist in the wall? Well this one’s for you! (💋 💋 💋)

Love complaining? Of course you do! Talk about a Blair Bitch Project.

And for the building to really blow up, all you need is an unexpected turn. Who knew changing attitudes were so helpful?Especially for the Stubborn Blair Waldorf.

Desperately Seeking Serena: (3 day void challenge)

Is Queen S feeling like she needs a whole mind reprogramming in a gorgeously short amount of time? Well it’s time to turn that mental frown, upside down! (Here you go!!! 💋♥️💋♥️)

Ah, what’s that magic word again? Oh, Consistency! Whoops! Don’t tell me you forgot too?

And anyone who’s used to bending the rules will find themselves breaking them.

Feeling like a Dare Devil?: (Void Princess challenge)

Confidence is built, and NEWS FLASH!!! You don’t need confidence to build it. No expense is spared.

(Post is here 💋💋💋)

There’s nothing Gossip Girl loves more than a little……push. Not off of a building of course………ofcourse.

Of course Gossip Girl here isn’t going to link every single void challenge here. Wouldn’t you like to come up with your own? Use your favourite one to your hearts content.

As we all know, there’s nothing Gossip Girl loves more than a surprise.

Is that a smile we see on B’s lips? The spotlight’s on her for once and no one helped her get it. I guess “miracles” can happen.

Distraction Method (made by the one and only, Gossip Girl)

Another stray thought lands in B’s lap. Will she use it as ammunition or will she surrender and put down her arms?

Here you go! 💌♥️💌♥️

What happens if Queen B doesn’t want to persist?

No, that’s not a tear in my eye. It’s just allergies. Without you, I’m nothing. —Gossip Girl

Who doesn’t love a five-finger discount. Especially if it’s the middle one.

Look who doesn’t want to end up on my blog. Who will I gossip about now?

Who cares if i’m pretty if i fail my finals?

Everyone knows that Blair Waldorf is SO much better than Rory Gilmore. Luckily for Blair, the word “failing” is unheard of. Too bad for Rory, it’s all she thinks about.

Read this 💋💋💋

Hey Upper East Siders. We hear that World War III just broke out. And it’s wearing kneesocks. Choose your side or run and hide. We have a feeling this one’s to the death.

Why should I listen to Gossip Girl?

Because “I was a teenage drug addict” is not exactly a winning college essay.

Now have a holly jolly Christmas with your every desire. You can thank me later.

Every happy ending is just a new beginning. Because on the Upper East Side, the good times ALWAYS last forever. You know you love me, XOXO —Gossip Girl 💋 💌

[cranberrymoons]

holly jolly birthday

prompt: birthday (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 511 rated: e (18+) tags: fluff, teasing, light bondage notes: this was inspired by THIS, thank you @hornybunnybaby for sending it to me 😇

welcome to Day 24 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

“Please?” 

Steve makes his eyes go even bigger than they normally are, and his lip even pops out a little, which honestly? Feels like overkill. 

And Eddie’s on the verge of just rolling his eyes and saying no on principle, but then Steve tilts his head to the side and strikes the fatal blow: 

“It’s my birthday.”

Eddie’s shoulders slump, and he drops his head back with a despairing groan. He sighs as he looks back at Steve’s face, which is slowly shifting toward a smile now that he knows he’s about to get his way.

“Fine,” he says. “But if we both get electrocuted, I’m going to haunt you for the rest of our ghost lives."

“Ghosts can’t haunt other ghosts,” Steve says, already shifting back against the pillows. “That’s like… ghost law, or something.”

He lifts his wrists over his head, eyes flashing, and Eddie feels his whole chest do a somersault. He’s so fucking stupid and gone for this weird, sweet, wonderful boy.

“I can’t believe I ever thought you were the cool one,” Eddie says under his breath as he plants a knee on the bed and comes to rest between Steve’s spread legs. He raises his eyebrows. “Ghost law? Seriously?”

Steve laughs, giving a little shrug. “Ghosts of Christmas past, electrocuted by Christmas lights,” he says. “Maybe that's how they became Christmas ghosts.”

Eddie snorts as he reaches for the string of lights and – against his better judgment, even though Steve is supposed to be the responsible one here – bends down to start wrapping them around Steve’s wrists, binding him to the upright slats of the headboard. The shift in position brings their faces closer, and Steve takes the opportunity to latch his teeth onto Eddie’s jaw, making Eddie huff out a laugh.

“You’re going to distract me, and then I really will electrocute us both,” Eddie says quietly. 

“Well, try not to, then.”

"Brilliant plan.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, and Eddie can feel his lips curling up toward a smile. “Thought of it myself.”

Eddie finishes with his other wrist and extracts himself to sit back on his heels and survey his work. He has to admit, it does make for a great image: Steve spread out in front of him, bound to the bed by two strings of glowing lights that cast a soft, multicolored shine over his face. He runs his eyes down the long line of Steve’s body, all the way to where his cock sits flushed against his stomach.

“I don’t think this is in The Christmas Carol,” Eddie says, raising an eyebrow. “Ghosts or no.”

Steve laughs a little, and his arms flex against the restraints. “I guess not.”

Eddie hums. He reaches down to run a hand over Steve’s chest just to feel him shiver and arch into the touch. 

“What do you want now that you’re stuck here?” he asks. “Birthday boy and all. You can have whatever you want.”

“I want whatever you want to give me,” Steve says. “Birthdays are supposed to be a surprise.”

[also on ao3]

[octuscle]

Merry Christmas! Or, er, Happy Holidays! Don’t wanna be presumptuous but I haven’t a clue what you celebrate, oh great wise Chronivac Support.

Aw why bother with niceties, you can probably tell I’m buttering you up. I’ll just get straight to it.

I live in the one campus dorm that’s right next to a frat house notorious for its wild, all-night parties. For most of my dorm mates, they love being so close to such a hotspot for booze and babes, but I—an eternally sober fruitcake— don’t really care for all that. Not to mention the loud music and flashing lights outside my window while I’m trying to sleep, god it drives me crazy.

Now, obviously I’m asking you to help me out, but I got a special request. Seeing as it’s the holly jolly time of year, I figured why not spice up my request. So, could you have one of their parties crashed by a real deal, mean Krampus? You know, Krampus, big, brutish, fuzzball that’s all about punishing naughty kids? You think you can have him punish those naughty frat boys and turn them into good little (or big, rather) musclebrats?

First of all, have a great holiday season too. I can't wish you a peaceful holiday season based on the information you've given me. I can understand you, but I don't really know how I can help you either. I'll send you a Krampus mask and a rod, maybe that will help with the next excess next door.

Bloody hell! It's Tuesday! In the middle of the week! Okay, maybe tomorrow is St. Nicholas Day, but that's no reason to make such a racket again. On the other hand… It's Krampus night. The evening of December 5th. There's no better occasion to put on the mask, grab the rod and really shake up the party in the house next door. You quickly put on a tracksuit and sneakers, put on the heavy mask, grab the rod and head next door.

The door is open. And step inside. Boozing and bawling frat boys are partying to loud music. And you see some of your roommates from your dorm. You shout "Krampus is here to punish the bad guys!" into the roar. And you start beating every jock who gets in your way with the rod. Nobody reacts at first. Then laughter. Then panic! Whoever your rod hits falls to the ground. You go into a sheer rush. Behind you, men lie on the ground with their limbs twitching, the drunken guys flee from you as best they can. But most of them just stumble over each other and make easy work of you. The big bell on your belt announces your arrival. You walk up the stairs with heavy steps. A few of the fugitives try to escape from the windows. A few barricade the doors. But no door can withstand your powerful step.

Apart from your own breathing and the music, nothing else can be heard. You pull the plug of the sound system out of the socket. Dead silence. The guys on the floor breathe peacefully and evenly. Another frat boy is hiding behind the sofa. One last strike with the rod. And your work on Krampus night is done.

Back in your dorm room, you take off your heavy mask. You're sweating in your heavy Krampus costume made of leather and sheepskins. The costume has been in your family for generations. Even your great-grandfather regularly took part in the Krampus runs in your home village in Salzburger Land.

Peace at last! "De verdammtn Gödln hom hodlt as kriagt, wos eana zugsteat!" you think to yourself as you finally take the costume off again and put it away in the wardrobe. And you fall into a deep and undisturbed sleep.

When your alarm clock rings at 07:00 the next morning, it's morning roll call in the fraternity house next door. The fraternity is known as the toughest training ground on campus. And home to the hottest guys. This morning they've been roaming the campus, stuffing candy and condoms into the good guys' polished boots. And now there are a few bare-chested push-ups in the snow. You love this sight.

You really couldn't ask for a better neighborhood.

Your pic found @hairysweatysmelly, the pic of the enhanced frat bros @nation-of-bros

[justagalwhowrites]

Holly Jolly - Ch. 3: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Joel and Sarah celebrate the holiday with you and Sharon. The final chapter of Holly Jolly, a modern no-outbreak TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: None really!

Length: 4.8k

AO3 | Main Master List | First Chapter | Previous Chapter

“You think this is the way to go?” Joel asked, looking at the drawing in his hand as he sat on a video call with you in the middle of a Home Depot. 

“Yup,” you said, glancing back to the living room to see Sarah and Sharon deep in some adventure with Sharon’s Star Wars action figures. There were active blaster noises followed by a very dramatic sounding explosion. They were pretty occupied as you stood in the kitchen, leaning against your counter, waiting for the oven timer to ding. “I think if you go totally in this direction and just build something that’s perfect for the arbiesbay and how she plays with them, it’s even better than a reamday ousehay.” 

Joel was quiet for a second. 

“Did you just speak pig latin?” 

“You try hiding things from the irlsgay without switching languages,” you replied. 

Joel snorted. 

“Alright, well, just tell me what you think of these paint colors,” he said. “You’re the one with the vision.” 

Something smacked into the wall with a thud in the living room and you looked up from your phone. The shoebox the girls had been using for a space ship was across the room. 

“Hey,” you said. “Let’s not throw things, OK? If we throw things that means we can’t play with them anymore.” 

“But how is it supposed fly?” Sharon groaned. 

“Pretend,” you said. “Not by hurling it.” 

“Fine,” she huffed before getting up and getting the box, running it back across the room and bringing it in for a landing with a dramatic, explosive sound. 

You laughed and sighed, looking at the mess of dolls and Legos scattered all over the floor after a few hours of the girls playing together. 

“I need to get a toy box for the living room,” you said. “This is getting out of hand. Alright, let’s see the paints.” 

Joel held up three samples of pink. 

“Um…” you squinted at the screen. “Middle one, I think.” 

“I was thinkin’ that too,” he said. “Looks closest to the box color for the arbiebay I already got her.” 

“Was that pig latin?” 

“Utshay upyay. What about this one?” 

He held up a few purples as you giggled. 

“First one,” you said. “That will play best with the first one we picked.” 

“Right,” he said. “Alright, just need two more…” 

He held up a few options for the white and then a few for a green. 

“OK,” he said. “Think that’s everything… Thanks again for your help on this, I really don’t know what the uckfay I’m doing with this.” 

You had to fight to not snort laugh at fuck in pig latin. 

“Any time,” you said as the oven dinged. “And I need to go pull out gingerbread. See you soon?” 

“Yup,” he said. “Just gotta check out here, pick up pizza and headed your way after.” 

“Oundssay Oodgay.” 

Joel laughed. 

“Ebyay.” 

You pulled the gingerbread out and set it aside to cool and just watched the girls playing from the living room. 

Considering that you’d never met Joel and Sarah Miller before Thursday night, you were suddenly spending a lot of time with them. You and Joel had lunch together while Christmas shopping and you were surprised to learn that you got along better than you thought you would. Joel was oddly funny in a dry, clever way, every teasing moment and wry one liner feeling like an inside joke even though you’d only known each other a few days. You had the same concerns about raising girls as single parents, especially as young single parents who still felt a lot like kids yourselves. He was almost strangely insightful for a man, especially one who was damn near a perfect stranger. He seemed to understand the meaning behind your hesitant pauses or why you chose the words you did. Communicating with him was so straightforward and easy going, unlike anything you’d ever really experienced with someone so quickly before. You really liked Joel and Sharon adored his daughter. You really hoped you could help give them a great Christmas. They deserved it.

You’d drawn up a plan for the Dream House on Sunday night, going in a different direction than just trying to recreate what was on the shelf at the store. 

Instead, you’d made a Barbie-fied version of Joel and Sarah’s house. You’d found their house on Google Maps - it felt a little too weird to look it up on Zillow - and took a guess at the layout based on what you’d seen on the inside and what the footprint of the house was from above. 

Joel had stopped by your apartment Monday after work to pick up the plans and you stepped into the breezeway outside your door, leaving Sharon watching a cartoon in the living room. 

“I hope it’s not too weird,” you bit your lip as you handed the blue prints over. “If it is, I can redo it tonight and I don’t think it’ll put you too far behind…” 

He took the pages and frowned as he flipped through them. Your heart sank for a moment. 

“Is this… our house?” He asked, looking up from the papers to look at you. 

“Yeah,” you said. “I thought… since, you know, you just bought it and you bought it to give Sarah a better life, that kind of makes it a dream house, right? And I thought she might like to have her Barbies in a house that was like hers… I’m sorry, I over stepped, that’s not…” 

“This is amazing,” he said, looking back down at the plans. “Do you think she’ll like it?” 

You smiled, shoving your hands in the back pockets of your jeans. 

“Yeah. I think so, anyway. I would have, when I was her age. I think she will, too.” 

Even though you’d just seen him three days in a row, you were looking forward to spending the evening with him tonight, too. You had the supplies for making peanut butter cookies set out - as well as the peppermint bark shortbread you’d made every year since you were 20 and looking for something simple to make in your first apartment kitchen - and Joel was coming over to bake with you and the girls. 

You had a little surprise for him, too. When he’d first dropped Sarah off that afternoon, you’d gotten the girls to help make some Christmas decorations he could bring home with him. Paper chains and cut out snowflakes and Christmas trees made out of plastic spoons. Once the girls got bored you let them loose on the toys and told Sharon to bring the adventure to the living room so you could keep an eye on them as you made gingerbread. They were having a blast and you now had enough gingerbread to build a small village of houses, plus a small box of homemade decor to give to Joel. You just hoped he liked it. 

The girls were so involved with whatever they were playing - lightsabers were out now and Sharon was standing on the couch - that they barely noticed when he got there with an armload of pizza. 

“OK definitely feelin’ like I got off pretty easy in this deal,” he said, setting the pizza down on your breakfast bar. 

“It’s fine,” you waved him off. “My downstairs neighbors work in the afternoon and evening so they’re not bothering anyone. And they’ve stayed out of my way so it’s been no trouble, truly.” 

“Daddy!” Sarah yelped, dropping the lightsaber and running for him, leaping into his arms like she hadn’t seen him in weeks, instead of just a few hours. “We made stuff and played Barbies and now we’re playing wars…” 

“Star Wars,” Sharon corrected, jumping off the couch and stumbling forward as she landed. “It’s so cool, it’s this real old movie…” 

“Alright,” Joel cut them off. “I’ll stop ya there, I remember when some of those came out, don’t need you saying they’re that old…” He set Sarah down and turned to you. “Didn’t take you for a Star Wars fan.” 

You shrugged. 

“Gotta introduce the kid to classic film.” 

“Oh lord,” he rolled his eyes and laughed. “Think you’re the same age as me, better watch what you say about classic film…” 

You got the girls to sit still long enough to plow through the better part of a cheese pizza and some carrot sticks while you and Joel split a supreme, sitting so close to each other that your knees brushed below the table. 

The first time it happened, you jerked your leg away on instinct but Joel didn’t react. So you let your leg relax a little and, bit by bit, your knee drifted until it was against his thigh and your heart was in your throat. 

After dinner, you pulled two chairs into the kitchen for the girls to stand on and you supervised as they combined the ingredients for peanut butter blossoms, their little faces getting covered in a dusting of flour and a smear of peanut butter ending up in the middle of Sharon’s shirt. They gleefully rolled the balls of dough in sugar and you handled putting the Hershey kisses in the middle of each one as the cookies neared the end of baking as Joel helped the girls secure the structure of their gingerbread houses. 

“This much frosting seems dangerous,” Joel said after you’d joined them back at the table, cookies cooling on their racks on your packed counter. 

“Oh, it is,” you said before you put your tongue between your teeth to concentrate on adding a small chimney to your house. “This is why we do it at the end, so you can get one sugar addled child and I get the other and I’m not wrangling both of them.” 

He laughed a little, adding a Twizzler window frame. 

“Daddy?” Sarah looked up from her sagging house. “It’s not staying up.” 

“One sec Baby Girl…” He got up and went around to help her and you watched as he carefully adjusted the roof and added a little support beam. “See, that’ll help distribute the weight better, makes it more secure. Make sense?” 

“I think so,” she said. “Can I add more M&Ms now?” 

“Yeah, you can add more M&Ms,” he laughed a little before sitting back next to you. You let your knee drift to his thigh again. 

He looked at you for a second, a soft look in his eyes, and you thought about taking your leg back but you didn’t. 

“In case I haven’t said it,” he said. “Thank you for just… everything you’ve been doin’. Sarah’s been so happy this last week and I know you and Sharon got a lot to do with that. I’m real glad Sarah met her.” 

You smiled a little. 

“I am, too.” 

Joel took a deep breath. 

“And I’m real glad I met you, too.” 

Your heart picked up. 

“Yeah?” 

You leaned in a little closer to him. 

“Yeah.” 

“Aunt Cocoa, look!” Sharon piped up from across the table and you turned away from Joel to look at her gingerbread house that was dripping frosting and sprinkles. 

“That’s amazing!” You said. “You’re doing a great job girlie pop, definitely better than mine.” 

When the houses were done, you and Sharon helped carry everything down to Joel’s truck, including the box of decorations. He frowned at it when you handed it to him to put in the cab. 

“What’s this?” 

“Just… open it when you get home,” you smiled. “Let me know what you think.” 

He lifted Sarah into her carseat and buckled her in before closing the door and turning to you. 

“So, I was thinkin’,” he said. “My brother was supposed to host Christmas dinner but now he’s going to some girlfriend’s place and it doesn’t sound like you’ll have anywhere to be… would you two want to come over? Don’t have to if it’s weird, I know we just met but…” 

“I’d love that,” you cut him off, smiling. “Just let me know what I can bring? Or I can volunteer a dessert…” 

“Dessert is great,” he said. “Just… mostly just want you there.” 

You smiled bigger.

“Then I’ll be there.” 

He smiled, making his cheek dimple. 

“Good,” he said. “Can’t wait.” 

***

Joel sent you one final picture of the dream house. 

Think it’s done. 

He half expected you not to respond. It was after midnight, officially Christmas Day. By all rights, you should be asleep. 

You texted back anyway. 

That’s perfect! Sarah will LOVE it. 

Joel smiled at his phone like a damn idiot and scrolled through the messages the two of you had sent each other in the short time that he’d known you. There were the pictures he’d sent of his living room after he put up the decorations you and the girls had made him, pictures you’d sent of the gingerbread houses on your breakfast bar as you documented evidence of Sharon slowly sneaking pieces off of them, pictures he’d sent of the progress he made on the dream house. 

He clicked on your contact photo and made it fill his screen, the selfie you’d sent him the first night he’d met you. He smiled a little. He couldn’t help it.

You were so pretty he wondered how he didn’t see it at first, even with the ridiculous sweater and the antlers. He must have been in a real shit mood to have not noticed because, over the last few days, he found himself pulling the picture up again and again just to look at you. 

He did it when he had a break at work and was checking his phone for other messages. He did it when he was waiting for Sarah to finish breakfast as she dawdled before school. Most often, though, he did it just before he fell asleep when he felt oddly lonely and wished you were there. 

It was a strange thought for him. He hadn’t really been with anyone since Sarah’s mom. There just hadn’t been time, he was too busy with work and his daughter, and he’d never longed for someone he’d never even kissed before. At least, not since he was a fucking teenager. 

But he wanted to be next to you. He damn near melted the first time your knee had brushed his thigh, had to fight the urge to put his hand over that knee, trail his fingers along the inside of your thigh. And fuck, had he wanted to kiss you. You were so close and you smelled like vanilla and sugar and he knew - he just knew - that your lips would be soft and sweet. 

He’d only seen you two days since then - plenty, considering you just met, but it felt like so little. Once, when the two of you had taken the girls Christmas shopping and traded kids so they could get something for each of you, and another time when you’d taken the girls to the playground together. The two of you had tried to sit on a bench and watch them play but the girls weren’t satisfied, pulling you and Joel up to play freeze tag.

Joel was looking forward to Christmas now. He’d actually been able to get Sarah what she wanted - or hoped she wanted, anyway - and he was getting to see you. He wasn’t entirely sure how but he’d gone from a man who was all but dreading the holiday to one who was almost as excited as his daughter for the day to come. 

You sent him a picture of a Millennium Falcon set up for Sharon under the tree. Joel laughed a little and smiled. 

She’s going to love it. 

You followed it up with a picture of a sticker sheet. 

She might like this more, who knows. 

He wondered if it would be weird to ask you for a selfie. Probably. Still, he considered it. But he just texted, instead.

You did a great job. Really. 

Why are you still up? You should go to bed, Joel. Santa can’t come if you’re still awake.

He tried to picture you saying it, the serious look you’d try to keep on your face as your lips curved up at the edges. 

I will if you will. 

Alright, you convinced me! See you tomorrow. 

You sent a little heart after your last message and Joel tried to not read into it as he went to bed and pulled up your picture one more time, just to look at you, drifting off wondering how you’d feel curled up next to him.

Sarah tackled him at 6:17 a.m. 

“Daddy!” She shook his whole body. “Daddy, wake up, I think Santa came! Daddy, get up!” 

“Alright, Baby Girl,” he groaned, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “M’awake, gimme a minute, we’ll go see if Santa came…” 

He shook his head a little as he sat up, his hair falling over his forehead, and he got a shirt from his dresser before pulling up the camera on his phone. 

“Alright Kiddo,” he said. “You stay right here at the top of the stairs for just a minute so I can get you on video…” 

He went into the living room and turned on the lights, the paper chains you’d made with the girls dangling cheerfully from the doorways. 

“Alright,” he said, starting recording, suddenly nervous about Sarah seeing the homemade dream house. What if she hated it? This might be the first Christmas she really remembered, what if he ruined it? “Come on down, Baby Girl.” 

Sarah thundered down the stairs and into the living room, her curls bouncing as she ran. Her eyes went wide and her mouth made a small “o” when she saw the house sitting next to the tree. She ran over to it and dropped to her knees beside it, a Barbie and a Ken standing in the kitchen, ready for her to play with.

“Daddy!” She gaped at him, a look of awe on her face. “Daddy, that’s our house! That’s our house but Barbie!” 

“Is it?” He asked. 

“Yeah!” She said. “See, that’s the kitchen and we’re in here in the living room…” 

“Do you like it?” He asked, hoping he didn’t sound too hesitant. 

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen!” She looked back to the house. “Barbie has a house like us!” 

“Yeah,” Joel said, trying not to tear up. “Yeah, she does.” 

It took Sarah a while to even want to move on to her stocking - loaded with candy - and the gifts under the tree. Joel had never been happier to see Sarah happy and it tugged at his heart knowing that he couldn’t have done it without you. 

There were two things under the tree for Joel from Sarah, one that she let him have then and one that she insisted on waiting for you to be there for. 

The first one was half of a butterfly best friend necklace and he frowned a little at it. 

“Hold on!” She scampered off to her room for a moment before she came running back, flopping on Joel’s lap as he sat cross legged next to the tree. She held up the other side. “See? So when you go to work you can remember me!” 

There was the burning pinch of tears in his eyes when he pulled her in to kiss her cheek. 

“I always remember you, Baby Girl,” he said, voice wet. “But I love it so so much, thank you.” 

He put it on, the chain much shorter around his thick neck than it was around her little one. She giggled and put her half of the butterfly against his before going back to playing with the Barbies. 

Joel had to pull himself away from watching her play to get dressed and make breakfast before making her get dressed, too, and then handling all the holiday things that needed doing before you arrived. 

He was putting the ham in the oven when the doorbell rang and Sarah shrieked before running for the door, Joel only catching a glimpse of a red dress as he ducked back below the paper chain between the kitchen and the living room. 

“I saved it just for you,” Sarah said conspiratorially as he made it to the door. You smiled at Joel over his head. “I wanted you to see, too!” 

“That was very sweet,” you smiled at her. “Have you had a good Christmas?” 

“The best,” she said. “Santa made a dream house just for me!” 

“He did?” Sharon’s mouth dropped open. “That’s so cool! I brought a Barbie, can she come over and see it?” 

“Yeah!” Sarah took her hand and the two girls tore into the living room, almost running into Joel on their way past. 

“Hey,” you smiled, your eyes bright and beautiful, in a green sweater that was so far from the one he’d first seen you in. This one was a dress that clung to your frame, hugging all the parts of you he’d thought about far too much. You moved to hug him, a little awkwardly with a pie plate in your hands, but he didn’t care. He was just happy for the excuse to touch you, hoped you wouldn’t hear his heart pounding in his green flannel shirt. 

“Hey,” he smiled as he gave you a squeeze. 

“Told you she’d love it,” you whispered before you pulled back, giving him a wink. 

The two of you went to the living room and watched the girls play, your legging clad legs brushing against him and he wondered if you even noticed, if it was all just an accident or if you were as aware of every time you touched like he was. 

“Oh, Dad, I have one more for you!” Sarah went and got the other small box from under the tree. “Miss Cocoa helped me pick it. And helped me buy it because it was more money than you gave me.” 

“You didn’t need to do that,” he frowned at you. 

You just waved him off. 

“I had coupons,” you said. “And Kohl’s Cash. And then it was only like $15 more dollars. Nothing crazy.” 

He unwrapped the box and opened it. Inside was a watch with a black face, green band and a metal case, one that would actually hold up to his job. 

“I wanted to get you the pink one,” Sarah said. “But she said she didn’t think it would fit you.” 

“Yeah, your dad is a big guy,” Joel could hear you smiling. “That pink watch looked a little small. I think this one will work better.” 

“Try it on!” Sarah said, bouncing a little beside him. “I wanna see!” 

“Alright,” he said, taking off his old watch that had seen far better days and sliding on the new one. He turned his wrist in the light, admiring it. “It’s perfect, Baby Girl.” 

“You like it?” Sarah asked, her eyes wide. 

“I love it,” he said, pulling her in to kiss her on the cheek. “Thank you so much.” 

She clapped before going back to playing with Sharon. 

You were looking at his wrist, a small smile on your face. 

“Really shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “It really is perfect, but…”

You smiled bigger. 

“She was just so excited about it,” you said. “I couldn’t resist.” 

“Well,” Joel said. “I do have somethin’ for you, too.” 

“Yeah?” You asked brows raised. 

He stood up from the couch, holding his hand out for yours. You took it and he tugged you to your feet. 

“You two behave yourselves for just a minute,” Joel said. “We’ll be right back.” 

They didn’t even seem to notice, too busy moving the barbies through the house. 

“C’mon,” he said, still holding your hand and guiding you toward the garage. “Now if you don’t like it, I can redo it…” 

He led you to his garage workshop and turned on the lights, your gift sitting under a sheet on his workbench. 

“Couldn’t really wrap it,” he nodded to it. “But it’s under there.” 

“I can just…” You raised your eyebrows at him and he laughed a little. 

“Yeah, go for it.” 

You made an excited little sound before pulling back the sheet. You gasped at it and Joel smiled as you went to run your hands over the sides. 

“This is gorgeous!” You said, looking from it to him. “What is it?” 

“Well,” he said, coming and standing so close to you that he could feel you breathing. You smelled like sugar and cinnamon and clove. “When we were on the phone while I was at Home Depot the other day, you mentioned needing a toy box for your living room. Seemed like you care about things like your furniture and things so I wanted to make you one that looked like it’d be your style. It opens at the top…” He demonstrated, lifting the lid. “Put some bumpers on the lid, too, so if Sharon throws it around it won’t hurt anything… top can be a bench if you wanted, too, you got all those nice pillows on your couch and stuff… Anyway, like I said, I can change it if you don’t…” 

You turned and threw your arms around his neck, pressing your warm, soft body against him. He hesitated for a moment before he hugged you back, his fingertips gripping you tight. 

“I love it,” your voice was muffled by his shirt before you pulled back from him just enough to look at his face. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me, where did you find the time?” 

“I ain’t slept much this week,” he laughed a little. “But that’s OK. It’s… it’s worth it. You’re worth it.” 

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and warm and soft and all he wanted to do was kiss you. Joel thought it might be the only thing he ever wanted to do. 

“Joel,” you breathed, pressing yourself a little closer to him. 

“Is it OK if I kiss you now?” He asked softly, one of his hands slipping from your waist to gently hold your face. “Because damn, do I want to kiss you.” 

You nodded eagerly and he tightened his hold on you, tilting your head just so to press his lips to yours. 

You felt just like he thought you would but somehow so much better, your mouth so soft and warm against him, the taste of mint on your tongue. Your lips fit on his own the way that no one else’s ever had, he’d never kissed anyone and felt this desperate to keep kissing them, keep doing just about anything with them. 

Eventually, you pulled back from him, breathless, and trailed your fingers through his hair. He smiled a little at you, panting a bit himself. 

“Think we can get a babysitter and go out sometime?” He asked. “Just the two of us?” 

“Yeah,” you laughed a little. “Yeah, I think we can.” 

The two of you went back in the house, holding hands as you sat watching the girls play, giggling and chattering back and forth like they’d known each other for years. But Joel understood that now. He’d never seen Sarah latch on to anyone so fast but then, he’d never had feelings like this for someone so fast, either. 

At dinner, he sat next to you, all four of you laughing, Christmas music on the background. When your knee came to rest against his leg, his hand slipped below the table and cupped your knee, his thumb stroking your thigh. You looked at him and smiled a little before your hand drifted below the table, too, giving his leg a squeeze. 

When the girls wore themselves out, he left Sarah asleep on the couch, The Grinch on in the background, before he loaded the toy box into your trunk and then carried Sharon out, lowering her gently into her carseat. You buckled her in as she sleepily clutched her Barbie in one chubby hand and her Princess Leia action figure in the other. 

“Thanks for comin’,” Joel said, stepping close to you. “And for everything you did for me and for Sarah the last few weeks.” 

You smiled, leaning back against your car and tugging Joel against you, he smiled and laughed a little. 

“I was happy to,” you said, eyes shining in the moonlight. “So what do you think? Good Christmas?” 

He searched your eyes for a moment and slowly leaned in to kiss you again. Your smile broadened and you met him halfway, your fingers knotting in his shirt as you held him against you.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling just far enough away from you that he could look in your eyes again. “Best Christmas ever.” 

A/N: Thanks for reading this little holiday fic! I hope you enjoyed it, even though it went up a few days later than I'd really hoped.

Wishing you a beautiful holiday season with lots of love and laughter. Thank you for being here and spending some of it with me ❤️

[thaliagracesgf]

Chapter Three: Holly, Jolly

wc: 5.7k

divider from @saradika-graphics, images from pinterest

general CWs, not necessarily all in this chapter: drinking, alcoholism, drug abuse, smoking, cancer, hopper being kind of a deadbeat, usual canon violence. not entirely proofread.

masterlist (incl. series)

a/n: wow. this chapter took so much out of me. it was intense. it’s been in progress for over a month (thank you for bearing with me! i was on vacation!) and i had a lot of important scenes in it that i wanted to do well. truly what got me through the last bit was chapter one of season four of @stevie-petey’s “come home” coming out last night (which you should go read, if you haven’t yet!). i hope you enjoy this!

You are absolutely fucking dead when you wake up. “Tina,” you groan. “Does your head also feel like a million nails are being drilled into it?” You look around her room, feeling absolutely attacked by the pink and the sparkles that you’ve seen a trillion times before. 

“Yes! How did you know?” She gasps sleepily, and you’re so sure she’s still drunk. “Owwww,” she moans, “that hurt.” 

“What, speaking?” you reply, and yes, it really does hurt. “Fuck me, I need to either drop dead right now or someone needs to feed me, like, all the food in Hawkins.”

“Ughhhhh,” she responds, your faces still in your pillows. “That sounds so good.” 

“We have to get up.”

“No, no no no no no no,” she cries. “We can skip today. Can we skip today?” 

“You can knock yourself out. My dad would actually lock me in jail, probably.” You don’t let yourself fall back asleep, because if you do, you know for a fact that you will not wake up again in time for class. You shuffle painfully to the edge of the bed, swinging your legs off as you continue to lay down, and eventually muster up the courage and strength to sit upright. The pain in your head gets a million bajillion times worse, and you moan again. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t do what I just did. It was so bad.” 

“I’ll suffocate you if you suffocate me,” Tina mumbles. “Then we definitely don’t have to go to school.” 

“I really, really like that plan.” You push yourself to your feet, fighting through the throbbing pain that feels like your brain is too big for your skull, and walk the two steps to your duffel bag before collapsing on the floor again. 

“I’m wearing your jeans,” you mumble to her. “I can’t wear my red pants two days in a row.”

“Wonderful,” she responds. You’re pretty sure she’s asleep again. You pull on a sweatshirt you’ve had since second grade—you can’t even remember where it came from at this point. 

You make it to school alive, by some miracle. And you definitely still look like a corpse when you walk into class, taking your seat behind Nancy. The bell rings, and your head starts to throb again. You take note of her concerned looking face, and assume she must be suffering similarly. At least you aren’t alone. 

That is, until she leans forward in her desk, “Hey Ally,” she gets the girl’s attention. “Where’s Barb?” 

“Um, shouldn’t you know?” the girl responds, turning back around.

“You haven’t seen her, anywhere?” Nancy continues. “At all?” 

Ally shakes her head, and Nancy slouches back in her chair, noticing you. Before she can ask you, you shake your head, biting your lip. This cannot be good. You don’t know Barb well, but she definitely doesn’t seem like the type to skip. 

You look ahead, forcing yourself to pay at least some attention to class, because you cannot for the life of you figure out the difference between antiderivatives and integrals, but you’re still running through possibilities of how or when Barb could have left Steve’s last night in your head.

You walk into the cafeteria, making your way over to your table in a headache-induced haze. You almost don’t notice the interesting look Steve gives you as you sit down, but you can’t figure out what it means. You manage to drown out a bit of the conversation as you think about Barb, Will, your Dad, Will, your grades, your headache, until Tommy raises his voice. 

“That’s why science doesn’t make any damn sense to me,” he says with food in his mouth, gesturing at Carol’s foot up on the table. It’s got some nasty thing on the ankle, and she’s decided that the best place to examine it is your lunch table. It’s making you nauseous the more you see it. You’re trying to avoid looking, but that’s only so possible when it’s next to your applesauce. 

“Nothing makes sense to you, dude,” you roll your eyes, and Steve snorts. 

“I swear, look at this. It’s totally frostbite,” Carol whines. 

Steve passes his applesauce over to Tommy, who thanks him before returning to his girlfriend. “It’s a heated pool,” he says dismissively.

“Well if it’s not frostbite, then what is it?” 

“Ugh,” Steve interrupts. “I don’t care what it is, it’s disgusting! Get it off the table. We’re eating here.” 

“What he said,” you add. 

Tommy touches it with his spoon, and Carol smacks him away. Much to the rest of your disgust, he continues to use the spoon for his applesauce. 

“Hey Tommy,” Nancy cuts in, trying and failing to ignore the spoon disaster, and narrowing her eyes. “When you left, did you see Barb?” 

“What?” 

“Barbara. She’s not here today.” 

“I seriously have no idea who you’re talking about,” Tommy snickers, and you roll your eyes, leaning back in your chair as he leans across the table. You’re trying to keep as far a distance between yourself and that spoon as possible. 

“Come on, don’t be an ass, man,” Steve says. “Did you… Did you see her leave last night or not?” He doesn’t actually look all that concerned with what Tommy has to say. 

“No. She was gone when we left,” Tommy says, as though he’s annoyed at Nancy and she’s asked him a million times. 

“Probably couldn’t stand listening to all that moaning,” Carol adds. The pair of them start mocking Nancy, loudly, turning heads in the cafeteria. You kick her across the table.

“Come on, that’s so disgusting, guys.” 

“You say that because you got out of there, Y/N!” she laughs. “It was bad.” 

“Can you… can you just cut it out?” You glare at her, and she gives you a puzzling look back, smirking at you. 

Your friend is trying to hide his smile, though. And it’s extremely troubling for you. Why are all your friends turning into extra special assholes this week? 

“Listen…” he turns to Nancy, not doing anything about how uncomfortable she looks as Tommy and Carol die of laughter across from them. “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably just… she’s probably just, like, skipping, or something.” 

“Yeah.” Nancy replies, totally unconvinced. You catch her eye. “Yeah, probably.” 

You sit on the brick ledge just outside after Chem as Nancy tries to call Barb’s mom. You made the suggestion after class, after watching her skittish looks and jittery vibe for an hour, and offered to come with her. Now you fiddle with the fraying edge of your hoodie as she stands by the phone. 

The line rings. “Come on, come on, come on…” Nancy mutters.

You’re not sure what to do with your eyes, whether you seem uninterested and bored if you stare at the ground or a creep if you watch or check up on her as she calls. As you kick a rock on the pavement, you think about driving by Dustin and the Sinclairs’ houses tonight. You realize you haven’t seen the boys since Will went missing. Since you let him go home on his own. You blink back sudden tears in your eyes. You’ve been trying not to vocalize it in your mind, knowing it would send you over the edge, but you know Will’s disappearance is your fault. If you had just driven him the rest of the way, seen that Jonathan had eyes on him before taking off…

“Hello?” You startle at the faint voice of a woman who must be Barb’s mom through the phone. 

“Hi!” Nancy also jumps. “Hi, uh, Ms. Holland, it’s Nancy.” 

“Oh, Nancy, how are you?” the muffled voice returns. 

“Good… I’m good. Um, I was just wondering, is, uh, is Barb there?” her voice sounds a little higher than normal. 

“Mmm… no…” you can’t hear the rest of the sentence, but Nancy winces, so you assume she’s not there. A growing pit makes you sick to your stomach. Are you cursed? Are people you sort of hang out with doomed to go missing? Are you being incredibly narcissistic by thinking about that right now instead of Will and Barbara, their families? 

“But she did come home, right? After the vigil?” You can’t hear Ms. Holland anymore over a ringing in your ears. 

“Right. Yes. She did, sorry. I meant, did she come home this morning? I think she left some textbooks and she was gonna go pick them up.” 

“Oh, um, no, I haven’t seen her,” Ms. Holland’s voice comes back through. You fiddle with the edges of a food drive poster on the side of the phone box. 

“Do— do you know what? I just remembered… she’s at the library.” Nancy is not doing a great job at this, you hate to say it. You make eye contact with some sort of leopard or cheetah on a Battle of the Bands flier, and wonder briefly if Eddie Munson is doing it. You can hear his fucking guitar every single night at home. There was a point when you thought about starting a band together, when you were in fifth grade, but your music tastes were completely different. You argued for hours on what your band’s sound would be before finally calling it quits. You sort of drifted from Eddie, after that. He always thought you were trying too hard to fit in around Steve and Tina, trying to convince you to hang out with kids “like you.” I.e.: other poor kids.

“Yeah. Yeah, I will,” Nancy responds to something you missed. “Sorry to bother you.” She hangs up the phone and sighs. You bite your lip again, and the end of school bell rings. You grab her hand, in an attempt to comfort her, you guess, and the two of you start walking up to the parking lot. 

The pit in your stomach grows again when you see your friends at the top of the hill, leaning on what you recognize as Jonathan Byers’ car. Although, even if you didn’t know the car, you’d probably have been able to figure it out. Jonathan shuffles uncomfortably near them; his presence, especially, is the concerning part. Steve, Tommy, and Carol are rifling through some papers, and you hear Steve’s voice, sounding harsher than usual.

“No.” He rolls one and waves it at Jonathan. “No, this is called stalking.” 

“What?” You exclaim, and their heads turn to you and Nancy as you come up the slope. 

“What’s going on?” Nancy asks, a little hesitantly, observing Jonathan and furrowing her brows.

“Here’re the starring ladies,” Tommy jeers. 

“What?” Nancy adjusts her bag. 

“Jonathan?” you can see Steve grit his teeth as you address the other boy. You’re about to stop yourself and start on him when Carol interrupts. 

“This creep was spying on us last night,” Carol looks a little too happy to illuminate the pair of you. “He was probably gonna save these for later.” She passes you photo sheets, and the picture she passes you might honestly surpass all of the shitty things that have happened to you this week. It’s you, sitting on the edge of the pool, lifting your arms in the air as you shotgun a beer. 

Your red bikini top, here in black and white, is pushing up your chest, and to be honest, your first thought is that it’s a great photo of your boobs before you remember why it exists, and the world seems to come crashing down on your shoulders. 

Your headache worsens, and the tears you’ve been holding back throughout the day threaten dangerously to spill over, and you have to fight not to let them. You’re not going to cry in front of Tommy and Carol, and you don’t think you want to cry in front of Jonathan Byers right now, either. 

You glance at Nancy’s, and it’s somehow worse. It’s her, from the back, at least, pulling her shirt off in the window you know is Steve’s room. It’s sick. You knew they had sex last night. Jonathan Byers is a creep. You knew he liked her. You never want to see Jonathan Byers again in your life. You knew it was going to happen. You think you’re going to throw up, or cry, or both. 

“See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but…” Steve starts, clicking his tongue, “man, that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hardwired into them.” He ruffles Jonathan’s collar. He looks like a total douche. You don’t know what’s going on right now, what you’re thinking. You can’t breathe. “You know, they just can’t help themselves.” He tears up the photos left in his hands, and Tommy laughs. Nicole, the girl you’ve really only just noticed, crosses her arms smugly. You want to yell at her, of all people, right now. Why the hell is she here? Why is she pretending she cares about any of you, any of your friends? Who gave her the right to look at Jonathan the way she is? You want to slap her. 

“So… we’ll just have to take away his toy.” 

For some reason, that’s what snaps you back to reality. “No!” You think you shout but it comes out as a murmur. Steve looks at you incredulously, and Tommy and Carol snicker. 

“Steve…” Nancy starts. 

“No, please, not the camera,” Jonathan almost begs. It’s pathetic. You hate him. So much. He moves for the camera, and Tommy blocks him. 

“No, no, wait, wait,” he holds out his hand. “Tommy, Tommy.” The other boy backs off, and Steve turns from Jonathan to look at you. “Are you serious, Hopper?” There’s so much in the way he says it. You can read his voice like the back of your hand, now, after ten years of being his best friend. You hear him asking you what the hell has come over you, why you’re taking this pervert’s side. 

Then he addresses Jonathan again. “To be honest, man, you’ve got some balls, taking these of her.” Your heart is beating out of its chest, and the ringing is coming back around you. “I mean, do you know who her dad is?” 

“Steve,” you warn. 

“Oh,” he clicks his tongue again. “That’s my bad. I guess you’ve been spending a lot of time around him lately, huh?” 

“Steve!” You shout. 

“It’s okay,” he holds his hand out at you for a second, offering the camera out to Jonathan. “Here you go, man.” He reaches for it, but Steve drops it on the pavement, and you watch as the lens, and probably all the machinery you don’t understand inside, shatters. 

“Steve!” You cry out as it happens. You don’t really know what else to say. 

Will bought him that camera. Will bought him that camera. Will bought him that camera. 

“Y/N, do you have any quarters?” Lucas’s voice ringing in your head. “Will’s got nothing, he’s totally saving everything for this dumb Christmas present for his brother.” 

Steve Harrington is a rich asshole, and you don’t know why you ever thought he could be a good friend. 

The realization hits you like a million bricks, and you bend down to desperately scoop camera pieces up, in part to cover the tears that have actually started rolling down your face. He’s not a good person. He’s not a good person. And there’s nothing you can do about it. And you don’t have any other friends, because at this point your only other option is a pervert who was taking pictures of the boobs you’re never going to be able to look in the mirror at again. 

As Jonathan bends down beside you, it takes a lot of strength not to shove him on his back. Let him know you don’t care about him. You care about the bits of her paycheck that Joyce Byers put aside for Will’s small allowance, all of which went into that piggy bank for that camera. You care about the quarters that Dustin, Lucas, and Mike sacrificed at the arcade when he showed up with nothing because he had saved it all for that camera. You cared about the hours you had spent at the grocery store with Lucas as he rolled his eyes at Erica, who was berating him for being picky over lemons for the lemonade stand they were building, where all the profits were going to the stupid fucking camera. 

And now it was laying in shards in the Hawkins High parking lot, and your best friend in the entire world was responsible for it. 

And he was walking away. 

You make a split second decision to abandon the camera, chasing after Steve down the hill. As you get up, you kick a bit of what was the lens, and you hope it cuts Jonathan open. 

“Steve!” You bark, turning the heads of your friends up ahead. You storm up to him and shove him backwards. 

“What the hell, Hopper?” He stumbles back. You’re almost stronger than him. You’re certainly a better swimmer. 

“You’re such an asshole, Harrington!” You shout.

“I’m sorry,” he shakes his head in disbelief, “did you not see the photos he was taking of you? Or of my girlfriend?” You think the last sentence hits you kind of hard, but you don’t think about it. You’re too angry.

“You don’t think! You don’t think about anyone except your fucking self, Steve.”

You can see in his eyes that he genuinely doesn’t understand why you’re angry at him. And of course he doesn’t. He doesn’t know about the camera, or Will. But he has to know the Byers don’t have money, right? He has to know that Jonathan can’t buy a new camera, right? He has to know the sacrifices someone in that family made to get him that, right? He has to know that you’re just like Jonathan Byers. Right?

You don’t realize at first that you’re hyperventilating. Or that you really are crying, now. You can’t breathe. You’re vaguely aware of being lowered to the ground, and of Steve crouching in front of you, rubbing your arm. Of him calling Nancy over, and of her stroking your back, and telling you you’re okay. Of your breathing slowing down, and of them helping you back to your feet. Of trudging to the gym as Nancy helps you walk, and Steve looks at you from her other side as if for the first time in his life, he can’t figure you out. 

You sit with your back against the lockers, staring at the side of the bench Carol’s laying on. 

“So,” she laughs from Tommy’s lap, “I told Mr. Mundy, the solution of ten plus Y equals… blow me.” Tommy snickers. 

“Bull,” Steve calls. “If you did that you’d be in detention right now.”. You realize you’ve ditched Nicole somewhere on your way back in. Good riddance, you figure. She was probably just trying to get in with the four—five?— of you. You realize you probably sound like a narcissist. You don’t entirely realize that you’re definitely projecting your anger about this from Steve onto this random girl. 

“Saturday,” Carol replies.

“I bet Mr. Mundy’s still a virgin.”

“Oh, he’s so a virgin.” 

“Maybe you should blow him, Carol. Help your grades a bit.”

“Nice, Tommy,” you mutter. Tommy gives you a look, as if to say, “She speaks!” Carol smacks him.

You can’t see Nancy from the floor, but as she walks away your eyes follow her. 

“Hey! Nance, where you going?” Steve calls. 

“I totally forgot,” she stammers, turning back. “I told my Mom I would… do something with her.”

“Well, what do you mean? The game’s about to start!” 

“I’m sorry,” she winces as she walks down the hall.

You watch Steve watch her go. Good for her, honestly. You’re thinking about doing the same thing, and the only thing stopping you is still that raging headache.

“What the hell’s wrong with her?” he turns back to the three of you. 

You shrug, sinking deeper into your hoodie. 

“Maybe she freaked out when you went all psycho on the psycho,” Tommy jeers, looking over at you as he says it. You jeer back at him, silently. 

“Oh, give me a break,” Steve dismisses him.

“What’d you expect, dating Miss Perfect?” Carol’s bubble pops loudly, echoing in the cinderblock hall. 

“Can you guys just…” you trail off. “Shut up?” 

“Okay, what the hell is going on with you?” Carol rolls her eyes.

“I just… stop making this into such a thing. I don’t want my dad finding out about this.” 

“Yeah, no shit,” Tommy chortles, and you look at him, surprised. 

“No one’s telling your dad,” Steve says. “None of us were supposed to be there, not just you and Tina.”

“Really, Steve?” you raise your voice. “I don’t want him to get mad at Mrs. Byers, or anything that’s going to stop him looking for Will,” you scoff at him. “To be honest, I could care less right now whether he finds out about your stupid fucking party.”

Tommy whistles. “She got you, man,” he reaches out to push Steve, and you glare at him, too. 

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, I just—” he trails off. “Can we just go to the game?”

You look up at him, meeting his eyes. For the second time today, you don’t think you understand each other at all. “I think… I think I’m gonna go home,” you say, and confusion passes through his eyes. 

“What?” 

“Yeah, I just… I don’t feel great. And I probably have to make dinner, or you know, my Dad won’t eat anything, and…” 

“Yeah. Fine. Whatever. Just go, Y/N.” He waves his arm at you, dismissively. 

“I… I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah.” 

Tommy and Carol are watching the interaction, Tommy almost wide-eyed and Carol blowing another bubble, bored. You scoop your backpack off the floor, looking for Steve’s eyes one last time, but he’s not looking at you. He stares at the ceiling instead, so you turn and walk down the hall, between the green and orange striped cinder block, the same way Nancy’s just gone.

You feel like the empty roads of Hawkins are closing in on you. Empty branches reach across to close in on you and your car. You swear you keep seeing shadows pass among them, and you jump at every one. You’re scared that you’re going to swerve and crash your car, but the thought of pulling over, any closer to these woods, is unthinkable. So you speed along towards the park, trying to keep your eyes on the asphalt as opposed to the forest, and think about anything other than Will or Barbara, and the serial kidnapper that’s lurking somewhere around this town. 

As you drive into the park, the lights from the trailers around you provide some small comfort, but you curse your father for choosing a spot so far from everyone else, and by the open water that seems to absorb all the light for twenty yards around your house. The sun set in the short while it took to drive home. If there was a graph charting the correlation between the amount of sun and your level of fear, it would have an approximate slope of negative one. Or negative ten. Or negative ten thousand. 

Gravel crunches under your tires as you pull in, and you turn the car off as soon as possible. You think you’re hoping that if you’re completely silent, and completely invisible, that whatever monsters are lurking around town won’t come for you. You sit in your car for what seems like hours, but is probably closer to twenty minutes, before you decide that you don’t want to get out of it. It’s warm, and your house is definitely freezing. So you dig the walkie-talkie out of the bottom of your bag, and fumble with the dials, tapping into the police office’s main line. 

“Flo?” You start. 

It takes a moment, but her voice crackles back through. 

“Hi, sweetie.” Her voice sounds strained. 

“Is something wrong? I was just wondering if you knew where my dad was.” 

“Oh, sweetie. He’s… he’s heading down to the quarry, but you shouldn’t go down there—” You tune her out. Why would you go down there? You never follow your dad to work. Why would you…  

“Will,” your voice creaks. 

“Oh, sweetheart, would you like to come over here, and wait for your father to finish up?” You know she’s nervous, you know she’s looking out for you, but the way she says “finish up”, as if Will is some menial task, makes your stomach drop.

“No, Thanks, Flo,” you mutter. You can hear her responding to you, but you’re not listening. You toss the walkie into the passenger seat, and before you can think about what you’re doing, you reverse your car and fly back out of the trailer park. 

You race back down the tree-lined streets, no longer caring that they’re closing in on you. It’s only five minutes or so to the quarry, but it feels like twenty with the way your heart is pounding out of your chest and you feel your breath leaving you again. 

You hear the sirens before you see them, but as you turn the corner your eyes are assaulted by the flashing red and blue of what must be every law enforcement, firefighting, or ambulatory vehicle in Hawkins. 

You let out a strangled cry as you park your car and jump out, starting towards the water before you see the boys peeking out from behind a fire truck. There’s so much going on, there’s so much happening. Will. Why are they here, how can they be here? Will. You need to get them out of here. 

“Hey!” You shout and they all jump. “You guys need to get out of here, come on— who is this?” There’s another boy with them,  or at least you thought at first, but now you’re pretty sure it’s a little girl with her head buzzed. None of them answer you, all watching your father storm past officers at the quarry. 

You all watch as a small body is pulled out of the water. Your hand flies to your mouth, and you cry. 

“It’s not Will,” Mike says, holding the pole on the back of the truck for support. “It can’t be.” 

You can’t find words to respond to him. Officers pull a stretcher further up the shore, and you would recognize that little red vest anywhere. But Lucas shakes his head, and tears start to fall from his eyes. “It’s Will. It’s really Will.” 

Mike straightens, turning away from the sight. You’re holding Dustin’s shoulders from behind him, as tightly as if you can stop this from happening if you hold on to him like this. 

“Mike…” the girl says, but he slaps her hand away. 

“”Mike”? “Mike,” what?” He shouts. “You were supposed to help us find him alive. You said he was alive!” You’re so confused, so lost, and staring at the water. You don’t know what the hell is going on with these kids, but you know that their best friend is dead on that stretcher, and Mike is distraught, and he’s taking it out on this girl, possibly in the same way you were taking out your anger at Steve on Nicole. “Why did you lie to us?” His voice cracks. “What’s wrong with you!? What is wrong with you?” 

“Mike…” 

“What?” The girl shakes her head, and Mike prods her for an answer with his eyes, before he turns and storms off. 

“Michael!” 

“Mike, come on,” Lucas protests. “Don’t do this, man.” 

“Mike, where are you going? Mike!” Dustin shouts.

But Mike ignores all of you, picking up his bike and getting away as fast as he can.

You don’t know what you’re supposed to do here, left with two of the kids you babysit and some random girl that you think they might have kidnapped from a cancer ward. But you have to pull yourself together. They can’t be here. You can’t be here, but them especially. You think this might be one of the worst places for them to ever be. 

“Come on, guys,” you manage. “Get in the car.” 

Dustin and Lucas nod solemnly, and carry their bikes to your trunk. The girl stands awkwardly back, until you look between her and the boys and gesture for her to hop in. 

The car is silent, except for the few seconds where you ask where you’re supposed to drop this girl off. Some sad whispering and hesitation determines that you should take her to Mike’s, and you do, watching her climb in through the basement window. 

“Okay,” you start, as soon as she’s inside. “I realize that this is one of the worst times for this, but one of you needs to tell me what the hell is going on with her.” 

Dustin and Lucas argue muffledly in the backseat.

“Today,” you drum on the steering wheel. You’re trying to distract yourself—one problem at a time. 

“She has superpowers,” Dustin mumbles, as Lucas says:

“We just found her.” 

You try, and fail, to make sense of their words. 

“Okay…” you look at Dustin in the rearview mirror. “What do you mean, “she has superpowers”?” Lucas gives him a look that you interpret as warning him not to say anything else. 

He talks anyway. “She lifted Mike’s Millenium Falcon with her mind.” Jesus Christ. 

“Dustin, I’m being serious here,” you sigh. “I just want… I just want to help.” 

“I am being serious!” 

You sit in silence, mind reeling. Obviously this is some bit that he and the others have made up, and he’s confused. Surely. But how would you feel if you were bringing something like this to your dad, and he didn’t believe you? But you have no reason to believe him. Superpowers don’t exist. The kid’s best friend has just been found dead in the quarry you’ve all swum in since you were kids, and he’s been reading too much X-Men. 

“He’s not lying,” Lucas says quietly. He’s staring out the window, tears still rolling down his cheeks, but he mumbles at you as you drive. 

“We found her in the woods the night of the storm.” 

“You were out at night in the woods? In a storm!?” You almost crash your car. “Are you guys insane?” 

“We were looking for Will!” 

“That’s not for you to do, Lucas! That’s what the police, and the adults who are volunteering are for! And you certainly shouldn’t have been alone!” 

“Yeah, well, look at what a great job your dad did,” he snaps. 

You purse your lips and stare at the reflected traffic lines ahead of you. 

“I’m not… I’m not saying… Look, you guys just have to be safe, okay? Will isn’t the only kid who’s gone missing.” You realize as you say it that Will’s body doesn’t solve the mystery of Barb’s disappearance. Impossibly, a sliver of hope rises that there’s more to this than meets the eye, but you shove it back down. You’ve just seen Will’s body raised from the water. The water. Barb was by the pool. 

“What?” They ask together. 

“I… forget I said anything,” you rush. 

“Who’s missing?” 

“Friend of Nancy’s.” Dustin rolls his eyes. 

“Who, Steve Harrington?” Lucas scoffs. 

“I— no.” Why would you ever introduce Steve as a friend of Nancy’s? “Barb. Red hair? Nevermind.” 

“What if…” Dustin turns to Lucas. 

“No, dude. He’s dead. Dead!.” Lucas crosses his arms, going back to his position at the window. 

“Okay,” you mutter, and startle the boys as you pull the car over to the side of the road. “You both need to tell me exactly what the fuck is going on here.” 

They do their hesitation and bantering dance again, before the mumbles all rush out, and you can’t make sense of who’s saying what. 

“She’s psychic, or something.” 

“She tried to get naked in Mike’s basement.” 

“She said she could find Will.” 

“She said he’s hiding.” 

“Okay, okay, okay!” Now this is making a little more sense. A skill at guessing what people are thinking, or something, is much more reasonable than telekinesis. And they must have let their minds run a little amok. 

“You find this girl, and she says she knows something about Will?” They nod. “And you don’t take this to the police?” They shuffle uncomfortably. “Chill. I’m not a spy for my dad. I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on here.” 

“She said bad men were after her.” A chill runs up your spine.

“What do you mean, bad men?” 

Dustin raises his hand, holding it like a gun, and starts to point it at your head. “Dude!” Lucas shouts. “You’re going to freak her out.” He turns to you. “Guns. Basically.”

“Military, maybe?”

“Why would the military care about some kid?” Lucas asks. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” You stop to think for a second, but your mind is exhausted. You’re so, so, tired. And the boys must be as well. You’re glad, at least, that you seem to have distracted them from the body for a moment, even if it’s with more of this weird situation. But you need to sleep, and so do they. You tell them so, and they try to protest at first. “I’ll come by in the morning, okay? We can talk more then. Just… radio if you need anything, okay?” 

“Yeah, okay,” Lucas murmurs. Dustin nods in agreement. You drive them back to their houses in silence again. You’ve all resolved to your quiet mourning, but at least in you, something is stirring. Something that wants to get to the bottom of this, to find Barbara if you can’t find Will. And to at least find out, for sure, what happened to him. Hold someone accountable, if there is anyone. In a strange way, you hope there is someone. 

As you drop each boy off, you watch as they walk in through their doors. You know you won’t be making that same mistake again. 

a/n: thank you for reading! as always, all reblogs, shares, comments, asks, etc are so so appreciated! let me know what you think!

taglist (just ask if you'd like to be added!): @thisisourlovestory, @ladygrey03

[harrywavycurly]

How did Eddie and Malibu!Barbie spend the holidays? I miss them💕

Hiii babes!! Awe I miss them too!! I hope you enjoy these conversations between them two while opening up some gifts and spending time at the club house!💖

-find everything Eddie x Barbie!Reader here✨

“Merry Christmas Eddie!” “Uhm…thanks?” “What? You don’t like it?” “It’s…a swimsuit…that says Barbie on it and it’s…pink.” “Isn’t it cute?” “Yeah it’s…so cute…why did you get this for me?” “Because you’re always saying I don’t have enough swimsuits that cover my body and this one is a one piece so it covers everything!” “Oh…okay but why…did you give it to me and not just keep it for yourself?” “Because I thought it would make you happy to see it…duh.” “Did…did you just duh me? Who taught you the word duh?” “Steve.” “Figures.” “Did you look at the bottom of the bag?” “I’m not wearing these…” “why? We can match! I just know you’re going to look so good in them!” “I don’t wear pink swim trunks…and especially ones that say Barbie’s favorite on the ass…” “Not even one time just so we can take a picture together?” “One time…maybe…but sure as fuck no pictures.” “You’re such a Scrooge.” “No more hanging out with Steve.”

“What is this?” “Chapstick…for your lips…” “oh thank you Eddie! I love it!…oh it smells like cherries!” “You’re always bitching about dry lips from being in the sun all day so…there you go..now you can stop stealing mine.” “You’re the best…do I get to go to the Christmas party tonight?” “Only if you promise not to cry after having too many margaritas…” “I…will promise to try my best..not to cry…” “I’ll accept that…go get dressed then.” “I am dressed?” “Please don’t start with me it’s Christmas and I’m trying to be all holly and…jolly and shit.” “Eddie this is a perfectly good skirt and top…I have to wear it tonight…it’s my elf outfit.” “Does it past the test?” “You and that stupid test….yes it passed the test…you can’t see anything when I bend over…” “fine…but you’re gonna freeze your little elf ass off on the bike.”

“What the fuck did you do to the clubhouse…” “isn’t it festive? I added lights to that old bike over there since you said I couldn’t put a tree up.” “Who helped you-” “Steve! I was just showing Eddie all our decorations!” “You helped her Harrington?” “Uh I may have…strung a strand of lights…or two…” “Steve is the best he’s always helping me with things.” “Oh really? What all does he help you with?” “I think I hear Dustin calling my name…merry Christmas Malibu!” “Malibu?” “That’s what he calls me…will you make me a drink please? I’m going to go see what Max is doing.” “Why does he call you that?” “Because it’s a nickname.” “Why can’t he call you Barbie like everyone else?” “Because he doesn’t wanna be like everyone else? I figured you’d understand that…” “I don’t like it.” “Oh don’t be such a grinch Eddie…now how about a drink? Please?” “Yeah yeah I’ll go make you a damn drink…”

[maximotts]

𝙻𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎: 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 & 𝙵𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑

a/n: yes this is a day late, I've had a week from hell and I'm not having a holly jolly holiday season. Hopefully this really long chapter makes up for it! Reminder that we've got a scheduled break for this series for two weeks ask I do holiday things (derogatory) and finish up my Christmas fic

✎— priest’s daughter!Wanda x college student!reader ✎— confessions AU; after Wanda gets some much needed help from a few friends, she prepares for her first date.. at Carol's house party. Ups and downs ensue, but you try your best not to ruin the rare night out ✎— warnings: this is an 18+ series, minors DNI; light sexual content with some?? angsty scenarios? more like tense situations; drinking; talks of sex toys; intimidation, but R comes to the rescue; more shameless groping; first kisses; brief make outs; hard conversations and Soft Tummy Wanda Time

✎— words: 7.5k

series masterlist. || main masterlist.

“I can’t embarrass her, I don’t know what I was thinking… see you Saturday! What an idiot!” Wanda had been laid out on Natasha and Agatha’s couch between the two women for the past half hour, angsting over the earlier exchange through tears she thought she’d finished shedding back in high school. “I’ll stay home, there’s no way I should go.”

Natasha spoke up first, having been the one to open the door to find her best friend’s twin sister fidgeting in the hallway. As soon as Nat opened her mouth, Wanda was crying, falling into the slightly shorter woman with all her weight. She brought her inside quickly, hauled her to the couch while Agatha made her tea; she hadn’t seen Wanda this distraught in years so whatever happened, Nat knew it had to have been bad. 

Her first instinct was to ask who did what and give them a piece of her mind, but Wanda never let her, always insisting that reactions just made everything worse. “There’s no way you aren’t going. You have to after all of that, or you’ll look cowardly.” 

“But Tasha!” Wanda shot up to her knees, all watery eyes and red-tipped nose, nearly hitting the redhead in the face, “No one wants me there! And Carol was right.. I can’t dress like this.”

She’d never given much thought to what she wore; her dad didn’t let her wear anything too revealing growing up and when none of her mall trips were with friends instead of him, Wanda’s closet wasn’t exactly filled with each year’s trendy clothes. In college, she stayed with the familiar and dressed comfortably— now she feared you’d just been polite every time you paid her a compliment. 

“There’s one person that wants you there!” Agatha chimed in, righting Wanda’s skirt where it’d twisted around in her distress. She’d been assigned Natasha’s roommate in their first year of college; in their second, they’d moved into an apartment together off campus and when Wanda took up residence down the hall for their third, Natasha warned her that Wanda had been heavily sheltered and sometimes needed that extra bit of attention and care. 

Honestly, Agatha thought her friend was exaggerating, having met Pietro once or twice and not sensing anything off, but Wanda was a special case. Still, the younger girl was one of the kindest people she’d ever met and she enjoyed whenever she popped over for a chat. “And anyways, I think you look adorable.”

She was trying to help, but instead she only proved Carol’s point. Wanda groaned and fell back once more, head buried in the cushions, “I’m twenty years old, adorable isn’t going to cut it.”

The two older girls shared a look, Natasha’s worried while Agatha’s turned mischievous. Nat knew that look from the beginning of Agatha’s schemes and protectiveness kicked in anew. “Agatha.. I don’t think I like that look.” 

She brushed her friend off with a scoff, prodding at Wanda’s ragdoll state until she could wrench her upright once more. Unlike Natasha, she hadn’t grown up with them all, but from the day she met Wanda, Agatha saw a project. Now that she finally had an in, she wouldn’t pass it up. Especially not when it was for a good cause, “You wanna be hot, is that it? You want your new crush to see you and not be able to keep her hands off you?”

That shook Wanda to attention, cheeks beet red. Sure she didn’t want to be mocked or subject you to any torment just being seen with her, but she couldn’t imagine you wanting all of.. that from her of all people. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought of it, but whenever she did, she tried her hardest to shake that seemingly impossible reality away, “No, I-”

“So when you show up to that party dressed like you belong there, it’s because you want to hold her hand?” Natasha laughed, pinching Wanda on the cheek because she knew how much she hated it. Maybe Agatha was right; a little push might be good for Wanda, at least to give her a chance to try. “Have her push you on the swings?”

This was not the conversation Wanda wanted to have today, not when she couldn’t even take the first step to kiss you. Needing to keep her mind from that spiraling train of thought, she spun around to face Natasha now, pouting hard, “I’m not a baby, be real!” 

Agatha tugged at Wanda’s dress gently, pulling at the material and letting the skirt fall back to her thighs. “Admit you want to stop looking like the poster child for an abstinence pamphlet and start dressing for a strip club and we’ll help you.”

“That is not what I want.” Reminders of some of the outfits she’d seen her peers wear flashed in her head with red alarm sirens; they’d be sure to catch your eye, seen you on Instagram with similar girls dancing and laughing without a care in the world. Beautiful as they were, that just wasn’t her. Wanda couldn’t turn into a new person overnight, nor did she want to. If she got new clothes, they had to be things she actually wanted to wear. Things you’d like on her. “I want her not to be embarrassed to be seen with me. I want her to kiss me, to flirt with me even though I wouldn’t have the faintest idea what I’m doing! I want her to like me.”

Agatha backed off, sighing and taking one of Wanda’s shaking hands in her own. “I’d bet money she already likes you; you’re lovely and it sounds like you two already spend so much time together.” Neither her nor Natasha wanted Wanda to be so down on herself; there was no need to be, considering how, from the picture Wanda painted, you were plenty into her. Telling her outright might scare her though; it was always baby steps with the poor dear. “All you need to do is show her you’re interested and a little wardrobe change never hurt anyone. If you hate it, you still have your old clothes, no harm done.”

Wanda nodded, staring down at her lap until Natasha grabbed her chin and forced her to look up. “Come on, cheer up, you won’t have that much work to do. You’re beautiful already,” Nat cupped Wanda’s cheek, booped her nose before pushing her dress down to reveal bare shoulders. “And I’ve seen you in a bathing suit, you’ve got legs for days and gorgeous tits-”

“Hey!” Wanda jumped as Natasha gave them a squeeze, instantly self-conscious. There was a night a few days ago, one of your lazy nights when you laid your head in her lap while she read an article off her tablet for extra credit, where you did the same thing. Softer than her friend just now, a singular slow touch. 

She looked down, naively thinking a stray hair on her shirt was the cause, but when she asked you only grinned and reasoned they looked too soft not to touch and went back to watching your show. Wanda decided to keep how tingly the action made her feel away from her two friends for now; they’d never let her live it down. “Just help me pick what to wear on Saturday.”  

As soon as Wanda conceded, Agatha was up and searching for her laptop, “Oh, we can do so much more than one night’s something!”

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

The days leading up to the party were filled with Wanda reassuring not only herself, but also you that she was perfectly fine to go. It was sweet how you worried about her, checking in at least once a day to make sure she knew there was no obligation to show up or prove anything to anyone. 

Wanda appreciated the sentiment, but she wanted to like parties, to go and have fun with you somewhere other than your living rooms for once. Only on Friday, opening the package of clothes she’d bought under Nat and Agatha’s guidance, that she nearly wavered, but when Maria Hill wandered up to where you were eating lunch and whispered something in your ear scandalous enough to make you blush, Wanda’s jealousy wouldn’t let her back out. 

You didn’t mention that you’d caught her pouting, kept that tidbit to yourself for fun. Instead you smiled and flirted right back, ignoring Wanda’s clearly grumpy demeanor. It wasn’t nice, you shouldn’t have done it when the only girl you cared about was the one who’d made the lovely wrap you’d been eating before you got interrupted. 

Once she was gone, you tried smoothing it over with a hug and an apology, but Wanda was smart enough to see right through it, shoving you hard back into your chair and calling your behavior gross. She was still huffy when you left her that afternoon, half expecting her to call off your plans, but she only mumbled out a warning not to be late and shut the door in your face. You only parted for a short while, but in that time, Wanda had a lot to do; she’d been nervous enough without having seen Maria’s little display.

As she sat at her desk, willing a steady hand to apply the eyeliner she so rarely wore, her brain fell back on what it did best: overthink. Visions of the two of you arriving as a pair, just for you to leave her as soon as you found someone better to dance with or talk to, or worse, the whole party being a front for some long game joke, poked at her fragile determination. You’re being annoyingly irrational, she scolded herself, recalling instead the times you stood up for her or held her hand when you crossed the street. Sure, Wanda might have issues with the easy way you lead some of the girls in your classes on, but she refused to let her mind turn you into something you’d never hinted at being. 

The brunette checked the time on her phone before sliding her outfit over her head and as she popped her head and shoulders through the top, her eye caught the device screen light up on its own, a message from you appearing. Wanda read over your cutely apologetic words with a smile, laughing at the I’m sorry sticker attached and quickly typed a response promising forgiveness if you bought her coffee next week. To which you readily agreed and gave her one last minute reminder that you wouldn’t be mad if she decided in the past hour she wasn’t keen on seeing anyone she didn’t want to. No, you weren’t like Carol or Brock, nowhere close to Vision; Wanda didn’t think you could be if you tried.

You were right on time, wanting to tread lightly in case Wanda’s text was more her being polite than actually over your lunch shenanigans, knocking briskly even though you’d texted her you were coming as you locked your apartment door. You expected she’d maybe do her hair and makeup differently, something to fit the night; what you didn’t expect was a whole new Wanda opening the door. “Woah…”

The black dress hugged Wanda’s curves perfectly, accentuating places you’d only felt briefly before. She’d worn sleeveless dresses around you, but this strapless design wrapped around her arms paired with the long hair she’d tied back into a ponytail revealed her neck and shoulders completely… you realized you’d been staring too long when Wanda waved a shy hand in front of your stunned face. “Do I look okay? I think I have enough time to change-”

“Don’t you dare.” You tugged Wanda out the door before she could continue second guessing. And then, being the reassurance you didn’t know Wanda needed so terribly, you slung your arm around her, mostly in an excuse to touch newly exposed skin, speaking loud enough she was sure the whole floor could hear you, “You look hot and if anyone tells you different, they’re lying through their teeth.” 

Hearing that, Wanda already felt like she’d call tonight a win.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

From the moment you stepped through the door, Wanda garnered attention. Not that everyone flew to her side immediately; most didn’t recognize her and if they did, they didn’t know where to even start talking. Most people she went to school with left her alone, a select few people having crafted and weaved stories about the brunette that meant everyone tended to keep their distance. Wanda didn’t mind, really she preferred it; amongst her peers she was completely out of her depths. Small high school gatherings were intimidating enough, and college only added more to the attendance list.

 If you minded her clinging to your side you didn’t say it, relaxed and talking to whoever you pleased all while checking in on Wanda every few minutes. To her credit, Wanda did engage in conversation occasionally, commenting or laughing when something was funny enough. Sitting down, Wanda thought she’d get more time to talk to you, not about anything specific but just to keep your attention. You weren’t brushing her off, no, you were actively listening, nodding your head, everything… but she wanted you sitting closer, asking her to dance, anything.

Wanda wondered if maybe she was going about it the wrong way, working up confidence to ask you herself when mid-sentence, Maria plopped herself down in your open lap and wrapped her arms around your neck. “Hey you…”

For the first time tonight, Wanda felt ignored, her presence non-existent to the grinning girl who so easily disrupted the conversation. You didn’t play into her like you did at lunch, having learned your lesson that an angry Wanda wasn’t a Wanda you wanted to focus your way, but you didn’t want to be rude or cause a scene so you let her stay put for now and hoped Wanda didn’t hold it against you later. “A few of us are gonna play a little game upstairs if you want to join in?”

Wanda watched your face light up, seemingly ignorant to how much the other girl already reeked of alcohol. You loved a good party game, nodding your agreement without a second thought. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, we’ll be right up.”

“Oh yeah...” Maria finally glanced over, a pitying pout on her lips that Wanda felt the strangely aggressive urge to slap off. “Wanda, have you played Never Have I Ever?” The answer was a big resounding no and all three of you were well aware, a game she’d seen countless times on television and never sat down to play. You followed Maria’s lead, sizing up Wanda, but out of compassion rather than anything else. 

In that split minute of silence, Wanda had two choices: be honest and back out or rely on her limited knowledge, go with you, and hope for the best. Maybe she’d have chosen the former if she could read your thoughts, know for sure you wouldn’t leave Wanda alone down here amidst strangers and wisps of smoke— but she didn’t.

“Of course I know how to play, don’t be silly!” The answer was enough for Maria who stood with a wobble and pulled your hand to follow, but your eyes stayed firmly stuck on Wanda. Her words might’ve been confident, but lacquer-polished fingers played with her new array of metal rings and you instantly knew she was lying. You wouldn’t call her bluff in the present company, but your furrowed brow gave away your worries. Wanda tried smoothing them away with a smile, polite as ever, beaming up at Maria who stood in front of you, annoyed that you hadn’t yet budged. “Like she said, we’ll be right up.” 

Maria shrugged, not caring enough to disinvite Wanda upstairs. If she wanted to make a fool of herself, she wouldn’t stop her. “Five minutes or we’re starting without you.” 

Left on your own for the time being, Wanda sprung to her feet  and fixed her dress, letting out a deep breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. It was your turn to take her hand, stopping her in case Wanda decided to sprint up the stairs without you. You did want to play with her, but not if she felt it was an obligation instead of a fun way to pass the time. “Do you really want to? I won’t be mad down here if that’s better.”

“It’s fine!” Heartwarming, really, and Wanda appreciated your sincerity, but you’d never see her as anything other than a friend to be babysat if she didn’t attempt to participate. At least, that’s what Agatha said. Besides, if it was anything like the movies, you could learn things about each other that Wanda was too shy to ask outright. “I want to play! It’ll be fun, please?”

“Wands…” You couldn’t say no to her, not when she looked so excited, swinging your arm back and forth in her hands and adding a pretty please to sway you further. There was a promise you made right then, silently to yourself, to be right next to her and not let things get too out of hand; it couldn’t be that bad under careful supervision.

Supervision you failed to remember would falter as soon as alcohol hit your system.

The game was enjoyable… until Wanda caught on to the point of the game, everyone taking shots and sharing scandalous stories while she was left with nearly all her fingers up. She’d taken exactly one finger down when Carol tried to put her on the spot with “never have I ever bought a vibrator offline” and she prayed the shot she was finally allowed to take dulled her embarrassment quickly. No luck.

“Can I see it some time?” Wanda nearly jumped to her feet when you leaned over, chin resting on her shoulder like you had so many times before. You’d had no problem with the game, only one finger left; a fact Wanda had to keep reminding you of after the double shots you’d taken. 

She pushed you off and you frowned, but let her have her space, your dejected expression nearly pitiful enough Wanda almost felt bad for doing so. Then she remembered the question lingering in the air, the small group going quiet and watching your exchange play out, and suddenly the gentle rejection didn’t feel like nearly enough admonishment. “Why would you want to?”

You shrugged lazily, straightening up as you realized you were the only two left in the game. It was rare you lasted this long, to your recollection at least; Wanda’s nine remaining fingers meant she was unbeatable though. Such an innocent thing… you wished she’d be your innocent thing. Alcohol loosened your tongue, spiraling thoughts of Wanda carefully unboxing the toy as she did with all of her packages bubbling to the surface, running it over in her hands with that adorable scrunched up face she made whenever she focused, experimenting with the various settings. “Just to see how you use it.” 

If you weren’t so inebriated maybe you’d have the presence of mind to keep your words a whisper, but if everyone’s laughs were anything to go by, the entire room heard. Wanda begged to blink and open them to exist anywhere but here, “You’re disgusting.” Basic flirting was hard enough; the last thing she wanted to do was have your first discussion about sex toys while there were people judging her every move.

“What’s the matter, Wanda? Bought it and couldn’t figure out how to use it?” Carol sneered, taking a swig of the vodka she’d brought up for the game straight from the bottle. Wanda wanted to fight her on it, but she couldn’t without exposing some of her most private times and well, they’re called private for a reason. 

The blonde turned to you then, “I thought you wanted to fuck her… shame she hasn’t let you yet.” Wanda whipped around, her worst fears threateningly close to being the truth, but you looked just as shocked.

Maria joined in before you could tell Carol to take it back, leaning across you to really make sure Wanda heard, “You know there’s tons of videos that’ll show you how. All that studying you do, wouldn’t kill you to research something sexy once for a change.” Sober enough to deem that over the line, you pushed Maria away before she could continue her taunts, but words weren’t so easily taken back. Wanda was already mortified beyond belief and you were ashamed it was mostly your fault. 

If clinging to you to hide the stinging tears budding at the corners of her eyes wouldn’t cause more attention, Wanda would’ve fallen into your shoulder in an instant. Not that she was particularly happy with you right now, but what other comfort did she have? Your expression screamed an apology Wanda wasn’t ready to immediately accept and she flicked your forehead in warning, “Don’t say a thing.”

You relented with a sigh, still disappointed with yourself, but resolving to do everything in your power to make up for it. But all Wanda wanted was this terrible game over with, anything to get her out of this cramped room full of people who regarded her like a party trick. Her one advantage was being the last to put a finger down, her turn to announce an action and choose one of the many things you’d done that she’d never gotten close to. Whatever she said would scream innocence, but at this point she couldn’t bring herself to care; Wanda needed you out so she could “win” and get far away from here. “Never have I ever kissed a girl.”

You weren’t fully drunk, buzzed enough to be careless, but not to ignore what everyone was saying. Stupidly, you’d taken Wanda’s earlier insistence to play as an excuse to do so just as hard, personal promise forgotten little by little with each shot you threw back, but one look at her clear distress was sobering. Wise decision making wasn’t your strong suit though, drunk or not. 

She wasn’t that far away, close enough to kiss— so you did, leaning forward until your hands rested on either side of her folded legs. The moment your lips met, the little audience went wild, but you kept it short, only wanting to help, not embarrass her. “Silly girl, you can’t pick something you’ve done. Still won though, not bad for your first time.” 

Wanda was stunned, frozen in place even as everyone broke their circle formation to clean up. Instincts screamed to pull you in for another one, but she knew she shouldn’t. You’d done it to make up for the earlier mess you’d started; you wanted to be nice, not spend your night sharing kisses she couldn’t reciprocate. It was only for the sake of everyone else, to temporarily shut them up… a first kiss to placate and entertain.

When you looked at her again, Wanda saw the beginnings of pity and she couldn’t stand it, not from you. Especially not after that. “I’m going to grab a soda, I’ll be downstairs.” 

“Did you want me to go with-” She was up and out before you could get a word in and you sighed, standing slowly to save your head some pain. “Great, see you down there…”

Going off by herself was near the very bottom of Wanda’s smart ideas, but she didn’t have it in her to explain, to pretend to be okay when she wanted to shake you and ask why’d you be so stupid at the worst possible time. 

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Everything happened in a series of threes, good or bad; her father lived by that philosophy. The second Brock wandered into the otherwise empty kitchen, having been seeking her out, Wanda started believing him. First the never have I ever experience from hell, second, you playing said game, and now this way too drunk man stumbling closer; Wanda was more than ready for a good streak any time now.

“Wanda! There you are!” His words were slurred, strung together so messily Wanda wondered if he’d remember in the morning that he’d actually smiled at her. She tried to ignore him, looking at any variety of kitchen accessories she spotted around the room, but Brock was never one to be quiet when given space to speak. “Praying away your first kiss all alone in here?”

“You know that’s not how that works.” Wanda rolled her eyes, taking a step back only to meet the cold kitchen counter. And again, Brock came closer. 

In a perfect world he wouldn’t intimidate her, not even a foot away, his obnoxiously loud laughter pushing his alcohol soaked breath her way, but she couldn’t help it, instinct inching her farther even as his big steps closed the distance. “What I do know is how rude it is to leave someone in the dust right after they kiss you. You ran off so quickly!”

Wanda’s hands tightened around her soda can, denting the aluminum as she counted down however long she had left to endure this. “I didn’t kiss you, it’s none of your business.”

“I could have once, remember?” Unnerved as she was, Wanda still hit Brock’s hand away as quickly as his calloused fingertips grazed her cheek, a hard slap that faded his smug grin into a glower. “You’re just too good at running away.”

“Hands off, Rumlow.” Where you’d come from Wanda didn’t know, but she was never more relieved to see you. It took you longer than you wanted to admit navigating the house, asking first if anyone had seen your date and then, where the kitchen was. Finding her just in time is what mattered most, speeding across the kitchen to put space between Wanda and your classmate slowly, but surely crowding her in. 

You hadn’t heard their conversation, but it didn’t matter. There were exactly zero scenarios you could imagine Wanda willingly talking to Brock, much less with him as close as he was. Boorishly, he raised his hands in the air, backing away without nearly enough shame as he should’ve. “What, is she your girlfriend now? Like, for real?”

Wanda didn’t speak up to correct him, but neither did you, still unsure what you called someone you’d fantasized about more than acted on those with. This was Brock you were talking about though, and he out of anyone didn’t need to know another bit of information about Wanda than he already did.

Ignoring an answer, you held Wanda similarly to how you had a few days ago, arms about her waist, but this was more possessive, more urgent—  another spectacle Wanda longed to hate, but the security your embrace offered left her swooning. She would die happy if she could stay in your arms like this forever; just preferably not in Carol’s kitchen. “Why, jealous?” 

Your hand on her ass should’ve made her cringe; if it was anyone else, maybe she would, but this left her knees weak. To your shock, Wanda didn’t move and Brock’s hazy eyes bounced between the two of you, not willing to fight for someone he didn’t deem worth the effort. “Of your newfound celibacy? No thanks.”

“Well fuck off then, find someone else to piss off.” When you kissed her cheek, it was equal parts to drive him away as it was to calm Wanda’s nerves and by some miracle, it worked for both. Once he disappeared from view, you offered her another, two in succession when she didn’t twist away. “Sorry for taking forever, couldn’t find you… you’re really fast, you know.”

“The game was over so I left.” Wanda tossed her empty and squashed can into the pile atop the overfilled trash can nearby, needing her hands free to affectionately pat your arms. She expected you to let her go again, but you only held tighter. “What-”

Turning Wanda around, you leant against the counter, bringing her with you until she had no choice but to settle between your legs. “You have a cute ass,” Two hands cupped her backside now, squeezing covered flesh as if there weren't dozens of people that could walk in at a moment’s notice. “Why didn’t I know that?”

“Because you hardly look at me,” the brunette mumbled, willing herself to relax as you touched her. You only acknowledged her with a low hum, burying your nose in the crook of her neck, sighing as you caught the familiar light floral scent of her perfume. Curious fingers skirted over her hip, following the tight hem of Wanda’s dress along her upper thigh. She shuddered against you, fingers tugging at your shirt, grounding herself as she wiggled against your front. Wanda hadn’t expected to enjoy such shameless groping, but tonight was just full of surprises. 

You’d be more than happy to spend the rest of your time here, exploring her at your leisure, all else forgotten, but your dream was over way too soon. The tired girl wormed her way out of your grasp, instantly missing your warmth, but needing to stop before you were discovered. She wanted to be the type not to care who caught you, wanted to let you hold her tight and kiss her hard right here in the kitchen, but her nerves got the better of her. “You’re drunk, don’t do that here.”

You could insist you weren’t that drunk, completely sober enough to know exactly what you’re up to, but you’d already pushed your luck being so bold after embarrassing her earlier. “Here? Sooo.. you’d let me do it somewhere else?” 

Wanda ignored her hopes soaring at the prospect of you wanting to try again. Not for show or to shut anyone up, but because you wanted her. You saw it on her face, pupils blown wide and fidgeting hands; the girl wore her emotions on her sleeve, and damn if you didn’t want to convince her to let you drag her upstairs to some unoccupied room and have your way with her, but you tried to make peace with just knowing Wanda didn’t completely shut the idea down.

 “I don’t know! Maybe…” This wasn’t the place to discuss how much she craved your touch, much less her feelings on the matter; for Wanda, parties weren’t right for anything she needed right now. Suddenly Wanda felt overwhelmed all over again, brain scrambled and wanting too many unrelated things at once, and the loud bass and equally loud house was too much. 

She’d given it a real effort for you and it wasn’t all bad, but trying to fit in with a group of people who thrived on being high school mean girls even into adulthood? Wanda didn’t want to play that game and as much as she wanted to trust you, she couldn’t take anything you did around them seriously, uncertain if this was all just to show off or genuine interest. “I think I’m going to go…”

You couldn’t say it caught you off guard, not with how the night had gone. Hours ago when you’d first seen her, Wanda stood tall, happy and excited for her first real party; taking in her slumped shoulders and turned down gaze broke your heart. You hoped your disappointment didn’t show because none was for her, all towards you instead, feeling like you’d failed at every turn to keep her safe and relaxed. “There’s no way I’m letting you walk across campus alone in the middle of the night.”

“Well I can’t be here anymore, I’m done.” Staying in this house a minute longer made Wanda want to throw up; she wanted the cozy familiarity of her apartment and her bed, to sleep until tonight was a far off memory. She hadn’t come with much thankfully, only her keys you’d kept tucked safe in your jacket, but you tucked the pocket behind you as she went to reach for it.

“I never said you couldn’t leave,” Stepping forward, you took Wanda by the hand, but didn’t tug her closer, trying to let her have her space even when you wanted to give her the hug she looked like she so badly needed. If Wanda was leaving then you would too, having lost your interest in the party as soon as you saw hers vanish upstairs. “I’m walking you home.”

Guilt crept in quickly and Wanda instantly tried reassuring you, but you wouldn’t hear it, determined not to let her walk off this time. She was upset, you’d seen it on her before, a dark cloud dampening her naturally cheery demeanor; you wouldn’t leave her like that again. “You’re the hottest girl here, I’d rather spend time with you anyways.”

“Alright, but I’m going to bed.” Wanda hit your shoulder, turning her back to you before her smile gave her away. ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

It was cold outside with autumn rolling in, but Wanda was grateful for the quiet. The walk back to your building was short in theory, but grew longer with the brunette doing most of the navigation. You were just a bit too distracted to focus on where you were going, but you’d always remember to follow Wanda anywhere. While dragging along behind her, your eyes remained firmly stuck on her bare shoulders, illuminated whenever you passed under a streetlight, and when you caught her shivering, you were quick to rush in. 

“Are you cold?” She wasn’t for long between your engulfing hug and the heat bursting through her body as your lips kissed along the expanse of exposed skin. It was impossible to walk like this, your hands splayed over her stomach as you clung to her from behind, preoccupied with the new opportunity to touch her rather than getting inside. 

Wanda tried anyways, steps heavy on the sidewalk as she took your weight with her. “I won’t be cold if you let us go home.” She was right of course, often was, but it didn’t stop you from staying attached to her the rest of the way. 

You’d run to the bathroom as soon as she unlocked the door and Wanda made a beeline for her bedroom— where she’d forgotten all about the short white nightgown she’d laid out right before she left. An outfit change planned for the version of her that returned from the party confident, a lot more drunk, and ready to fall in bed with you for a whole different reason than she was now. 

Frazzled, Wanda grabbed the satin garment and shoved it to the back of her closet until it was hidden from view. Her typical safe pajama set was the new choice, shedding her party dress to pull loose shorts over her hips, buttoning the last button on her top just as you emerged from the bathroom. 

Letting you do whatever you needed to do to be ready for bed, Wanda went to the kitchen, pouring glasses of water and picking up her bottle of ibuprofen she knew you’d need in the morning. When she returned, you were already under the covers, head against the headboard and absentmindedly scrolling your phone. “Glad to see you made yourself comfortable.”

You expected her to say more, either talking about the night or give you some random fact as she sometimes did, but after Wanda was firmly in bed, lights off, not even the television on, the typically comfortable silence between you two felt suffocating. “You’re being quiet.” 

“I’m quiet a lot.” She said it plainly, not even a hint of emotion behind her words and when that was all, you had to do something about it. Sitting up once more, you scooted over until you were sat in front of her, sizing up the worry rolling off of Wanda in waves. 

That nightgown was a painful reminder of how badly she felt she’d failed this whole party thing; there was no lingering high from buzzing events, no giggles or wandering hands like Natasha hinted might happen if she’d done any number of certain things. No, Wanda had run from you, pushed those wandering hands away, played off shoulder kisses as nothing short of an annoyance and now… now you weren’t touching her at all. If you went back to your place, she wouldn’t be surprised, but she dreaded being alone right now, left not only to wallow in self-pity, but properly unkissed. It was all too miserable to say aloud. 

You waited until she conquered her visible hesitation, but when Wanda sighed, more interested in fidgeting with her blankets than speaking up, you decided it was time to step in with reassurance. “You did really well tonight. I hope you know you really didn’t have to come with me, but I’m happy you did and you looked beautiful.”

Wanda gave a bitter chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief, “You’re not upset you had to watch me all night and make sure I wasn’t completely falling apart?”

“What? No! I had a good time!” A different time than what you were used to, but not bad. Really you didn’t mind looking out for her, felt honored she even trusted you to do so. You’d gone home with the best person in that place; you’d love to be doing something different with her right about now to round out your night as usual, especially when you could easily remember how soft and warm Wanda felt against you, but you didn’t want to push her. Except… “Hey Wanda?”

She picked at the stray lint she could barely make out amongst her sheets, trying not to dread whatever else came out of your mouth next, “Yeah?”

“I liked kissing you earlier.” It was the truth, simply put between your exhaustion and intoxication, but honest nonetheless. “Was that really your first time?”

“Well…” She thought about it, wondering long and hard if she could count the years old close call that stuck in her head in her worst thoughts. No, Wanda wouldn’t pay that any mind. “Yes, it was.”

“Oh..” Before you could second guess anymore, you inched closer, leaning in until your faces were inches apart. Wanda was tired, that much was clear, but her eyes still stayed wide, gaze locked on your lips as she licked her own. If the desperation was mutual, one of you might as well do something about it. “Would you like a second?”

Wanda paused, not because she didn’t want it, she did so terribly badly, but it scared her. All of this, you, scared her. What if you changed your mind? If you only kissed her before to be nice, what did this count as? Back there, you’d been so quick about it, a peck to end the game in your own mischievous way; this time you were free to carry on and she had no idea how to handle that. Were you about to find out she’s a terrible kisser? 

While her thoughts raced, you sat back, giving her space to decide properly. You wanted to kiss her, sure, and with any other girl maybe you would’ve just taken it, but with the careless way you’d taken her first, you couldn’t let Wanda’s second be something she woke up regretting. “You can say no, I won’t be mad-”

In a split second, your world went black, Wanda crashing into you with a strength you didn’t know she had. Her lips were clumsy against yours until you took over, shock dissipating as everything that was Wanda clouded your senses. She’d had enough pushing you away for one night. Here in the privacy of her bedroom, if you really wanted to kiss her, she’d freely admit she needed you to do so. 

Wanda’s arms wound loosely around your neck, acclimating herself to the feel of your kiss. You were slow and inviting, skirting the tip of your tongue along her bottom lip so gently Wanda didn’t say a thing about your hands drawing up her bare legs. Eventually, you eased her back until she laid reclined, deft fingers undoing the bottom few delicate buttons of her pajama set. 

“It’s not fair how sweet your lips are…” You chased her as she broke for air, shifting your weight to kneel between her legs; Wanda was about to ask you what you meant when you slipped. Still lacking all of your coordination, you leaned too close to the edge of the mattress, falling to the floor with a loud thud. When you regained your senses, Wanda’s laughter hit you before anything, loud and uninhibited, and as much as your head ached, you found yourself laughing right along with her.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry but…!” Wanda could barely breathe she was laughing so hard, your dramatic pout way too exaggerated to be real. You looked so pitiful curled up on the floor, rubbing the side of your head; she wanted to kiss you all better. “Come on, come up here. You need to go to sleep.”

You might’ve protested harder if the brunette wasn’t holding out her arms, covers pulled back to let you climb right in. It was an uncoordinated scramble from the carpet into her bed, but Wanda pressed a little kiss into your hair, smoothing it over before guiding you down. “At least I don’t have to sleep down there…”

Head laid heavy on her midsection, snuggled into what felt like the warmest blankets of your life in your drunken state, exhaustion hit you like a freight train. At some point Wanda’s hand snuck into your hair, brushing strays away from your face, nails lightly scratching at your scalp until your eyes fluttered closed. “You’re good at this for someone who’s never gone on nights out.”

“Pietro’s to thank for that,” Wanda laughed again and you heard it against your ear, the smooth, happy rumbling you’d missed all night. “Someone had to pull him back together before morning and it certainly wasn’t going to be dad. He always likes to remind me I’m twelve minutes younger, but I feel years older most of the time.”

She was a natural caretaker, always had been, especially after her mother died, but besides her family she’d never heard that type of compliment from anyone and it helped her relax in this otherwise unfamiliar territory. If nothing else, Wanda knew she could show her affection through some tried and true TLC, but looking after her loud and drunk brother was miles different from the clingy drunken behavior of the crush she’d just been making out with. If you weren’t so cute when you got sleepy, Wanda might’ve exiled you to the couch. 

After a while of nothing, Wanda unintentionally lulling you to sleep with the gentle stroke of her fingers on your head, her thoughts drifted again. “Was Carol right?”

“Hm?” It was too late to have any discussion past something silly, but from Wanda’s tone, you knew it was anything but and you prayed you could keep it together long enough not to look like a complete asshole.

“Did you only ask to hang out to see if you could have sex with me?” Wanda nearly bit her lip to bleeding in the long silence that followed, wavering between thinking you’d finally fallen asleep and convincing herself you were pretending just to avoid giving an answer. She thought about waiting but if that stupid game taught her one thing it was the way alcohol stripped you of all filters; she needed to know for sure, but she couldn’t look you in the eye to ask. Her dark bedroom was the perfect cover for questions she’d never be able to ask after tonight.

“No, of course not.” Truthfully, you hadn’t drunk enough to be anything past buzzed; you’d been stupid earlier for sure, but nothing extreme. If you wanted to lie, you could easily, but you’d never think of it. Not when you’d already let her down repeatedly. “You’re hot though, I would if you wanted me to.” 

“Oh… thank you?” Wanda stiffened and mentally you were kicking yourself, hoping she didn’t kick you out of her bed when you were so warm and cozy right where you were— but then you felt her thighs squirming against your midsection. You wanted to test your hunch so badly, but you knew better. Soon maybe, but not when you were both so painfully tired. Instead you hunkered down, pushed against her until she let you roll onto your stomach between her legs. 

Wanda’s sleep shirt made the perfect cover for her soft tummy, a pillow you were scared you’d miss next time you fell asleep on your own. You dotted it with kisses, mostly the area under the buttons you’d undone, a gentle show of gratitude  before laying your head back. “Mostly I wanted to see if you’re as cute up close. You are: mission accomplished.”

She wanted to shake you for calling her cute again, but it was too late to revert the conversation and she couldn’t exactly jump for her phone and text Natasha without looking obvious. Wanda sighed and settled for running her hands over your shoulders, hoping desperately her breathing stayed even enough to hide her personal panic. Soft snores finally made their way to her ears and her head fell back against actual pillows, waiting for anything to tell her how to make some kind of move. Talking wasn’t it, parties certainly weren’t it… Agatha’s advice was next up. Plan C, she’d called it— Wanda feared Plan C.

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

CHAPTER 3: HOLLY, JOLLY

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: We do not take what Jonathan did lightly and neither does Diana.

Warnings: Bullying.

Word Count: 2122

Masterlist

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV

HAWKINS HIGH 

The day goes by in a blur. I don’t remember what I learned in my classes today because I can only think about Barb. If something happened to her—My body is pushed to the side and I squeak staggering on my feet. 

“Sorry!” Jonathan says, holding my arms to steady me. 

Jonathan. I forgot Mom wanted me to talk to him today. 

“It’s okay, I’m glad I found you.” I respond with a small smile. 

“Oh…” he says, fixing his buttoned shirt. 

I give Jonathan a quick once over, feeling a pit in my stomach. Jonathan looked like he was slowly spiralling. His hair was sticking out in all directions from running his hands through it too much. I know the Byers don’t have a lot of money, but they were always put together…Jonathan’s clothes looked like he threw them all haphazardly. The bags under his eyes are what stuck out to me the most. I’ve known Jonathan since we were little kids. Despite our little brothers being best friends, Jonathan and I don’t hang out one on one like Nancy and I do. The only time I have was freshman year, last year. I was his model for his photography project. We took a lot of photos at the park some regular, others with me in my pointe shoes, doing various poses and positions. The photos came out beautifully and Jonathan gave me a couple to keep for myself. Mom framed it and put it on the fireplace.

“I just wanted to know how you’re doing. I’m sorry for not checking in sooner.” I shake my head. “I didn’t know how.” 

“It’s been…rough.” He says, avoiding eye contact. “My mom isn’t doing so well.” 

“I can only imagine what you’re going through. I hope you know we’re here for you.” 

“Thanks, Diana. It means a lot.” 

I bow my head, pursing my lips. “My mom made cookies for you guys yesterday and she stopped by, but your mom wasn’t home. She left them on the porch.” 

“Oh yeah. My mom got them,” he said with a small laugh. It sounded forced. “I only had a few. They were really good. Tell your mom I said thanks…from both of us.”  I can tell it pained him to say both because they are a family of three. 

“I will.” 

Jonathan shifts from side to side. “Um, do you need a ride? I can drive you home.” 

What is it with boys offering me rides? 

“You live on the opposite side of town.” I point out. 

“I know, but I don’t mind. Really.”

I sense Jonathan doesn’t want to be alone and nod my head. “Thank you. That’s very nice of you.” 

As we approach Jonathan’s car, I am surprised to find Steve, Carol, Tommy H and another girl, who I don’t recognize standing around. I am immediately filled with dread, having spent the entire day avoiding them. Steve watches Jonathan with a scowl on his face and pushes himself off the car, walking toward us. 

“Hey, man.” He greets Jonathan. It’s as if I don’t exist. 

Jonathan swallows, eyes scanning the group. “What’s going on?” 

“Nicole here was telling us about your work.” 

“We’ve heard great things.” Carol says sarcastically. Tommy H and Nicole smile, but it looks more like a sneer. 

“Yeah, sounds cool.” Tommy H adds.

I squint not understanding what’s going on. 

“And we’d just love to take a look. You know, as…connoisseurs of art.” 

Jonathan pushes pass Steve to his car. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh, no?” Steve asks. 

Tommy H quickly snatches Jonathan’s bag from his shoulder, throwing it to Steve who catches it with ease. Jonathan goes to Tommy H who bumps him in the chest, antagonizing him. 

“Hey!” I shout, marching to separate them. 

Tommy H stares down at me, like I’m an insect. “You hanging out with freaks and perverts now, Sinclair?” He taunts. 

I ignore him, pushing Jonathan away. Tommy H smirks at me as if he’s in on some inside joke I’m not sure about. 

“Please, give me my bag.” Jonathan stammers. Steve begins to unzip his backpack. “No just…” 

“Man, he is totally trembling.” Steve muses, “He must really have something to hide.” Steve pulls out a stack of paper. “Here we go.” 

“Let me see.” Tommy H says and Steve hands him half the stack. He’s glaring at Jonathan and I’m wondering what has him so mad. 

Tommy H flips through the paper, scowling as he goes. He looks up at Jonathan in disgust. “Dude. Yeah, this isn’t creepy at all.” 

Jonathan shifts from side to side. “I was looking for my brother.” 

It’s then I realize these are photos. Carol takes some out of Tommy H’s hand to look for herself. She pops her gum obnoxiously wearing the same disgusted look on her face. I swallow, glancing at Jonathan. He looks so uncomfortable; I fear the worse about the photos. 

“No. This is called stalking.” Steve snaps. 

“Give those back.” I demand. I don’t know what those photos are, but I don’t think it’s appropriate for everyone to be seeing, Especially if they are supposedly that bad. 

“You defending this creep?” Steve spat. 

“I’m not defending him. Just—” 

“There’s some of you too, you know.” Steve says, cutting me off. He hands me a stack of photos. 

I take the photos flipping through them. He wasn’t lying. There were photos of me by the pool while I was dancing by myself. Some with me and Barb sitting on the lawn chairs. Some of me in the Scorpion pose in front of the group. I see the grimace on Tommy H and Carol’s faces and am instantly transported to that moment last night. The feeling of embarrassment creeps up my spine. My stomach is in knots. From the corner of my eye, Jonathan is looking at me. I can’t believe he’d do this. Part of me feels betrayed and foolish. I was consoling him about his brother and he was…I rip the photos in my hands, shoving them in my bag. 

“This is so inappropriate for everyone to be looking at, don’t you think?” 

“What’s going on?” 

I turn around and see Nancy approaching us. I haven’t seen her since lunch. This day just keeps getting more and more worse. 

“Here’s the starring lady.” Tommy H announces with a smirk. 

Nancy arches her brow. “What?” 

“This creep was spying on us last night.” Carol responds, gesturing to Jonathan. She pulls a photo and hands it to Nancy. I glare at the red-head, shaking my head. “He was probably going to save this one for later.” 

Nancy takes the picture and I can tell by the look on her face and the flush in her cheeks, the photo is less than pleasant. She looks at Jonathan who avoids her stare. Steve rolls the photos in his hands. Usually, Steve is happy and aloof at school, but right now he looks menacing as he approaches Jonathan. 

“See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but…” he fixes Jonathan’s shirt, wiping off imaginary dust off his shoulders. “Man, that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hardwired into them. They can’t help themselves.” Steve rips the photos in his hands, throwing them on the ground. I watch Steve walk back to Jonathan’s bag by the car. “So, we’ll just have to take away his toy.” He opens the bag pulling out Jonathan’s camera. 

“Steve.” Nancy mutters.  

Jonathan charges for Steve but is quickly pushed back by Tommy H. 

“No, please, not the camera!” 

“Tommy. Tommy.” Steve cautions. “It’s okay.” He coos, walking to Jonathan. He hands him the camera. “Here you go man.”

Jonathan goes to take it from his hand, but Steve is faster and drops the camera on the ground. My jaw drops as the lens cover pops out and bits of the camera shatters. Tommy H laughs and Steve stares at the ground. I notice he avoids looking at Jonathan. There’s a flicker of sorrow behind his eyes but it’s gone as soon as it appears. 

“Come on, let’s go. The game’s about to start.” 

Nicole follows behind Steve and Carol rips up the remaining photos dropping them on the ground in front of Jonathan. Tommy H saunters toward him. 

“Boo.” He whispers. 

Tommy H then turns to me and grins triumphantly and makes sure to brush me when he walks away. When everyone is gone, Jonathan immediately drops to the ground reaching for his camera. I drop to my knees picking up the remnants of the photos. I see bits and pieces of Nancy in what I assume is Steve’s room and clench my jaw, snatching them from the ground before they flew away. Nancy drops to the ground beside me picking up a few scraps. I assume she’s helping until Steve calls her name. She looks at me and Jonathan before apologizing. I watch her hurry to Steve and walk with him towards the school. 

I continue to pick up the photos trying my best to avoid looking at them too much just wanting to get rid of them. My eyes betray me at the sight of another photo of me dancing by the pool by myself. If the photo was taken in better circumstances, I would’ve found it pretty. I crumple the picture in my hands shaking my head. 

“Jonathan…” I groan. 

“It’s not what it looks like!” 

I stare at him in disbelief. “It doesn’t look like you’ve been taking unsolicited photos of us?”

Jonathan shakes his head. “No—” I scoff standing to my feet, walking to the nearest trash can. “Diana I can explain.” He calls from behind.  

I look back at him, feeling nothing but disappointment and anger. Anger about Nancy, Barb, Steve Tommy H, Carol, Nicole now Jonathan and these photos. I feel like everything is coming at me in all directions and I don’t know what to do.

“I was giving you my condolences for Will and you had these in your bag the entire time!” I shout, waving the scraps in my hands.  

“I’m sorry, okay!” Jonathan cries, rushing toward me. 

I scoff throwing the photos in the trash. “You developed them, Jonathan.”  That was the worst part about it. It’s one thing to take the photos, but to develop them. For what? For what reason? 

“I know, I know!” Jonathan exclaims. “I didn’t…I just…” he runs his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut. I know he feels bad, but I don’t care. 

“How long were you standing there taking photos of us? Some of these photos are of…” I look around before continuing. “Nancy taking off her shirt.” I hiss quietly at him. 

“I was looking for my brother and then I heard screaming and ran thinking it was my brother, but then I saw Tommy and Carol—”

“Oh, my god.” 

“I don’t know why I did it! There’s no excuse for it. I messed up.” 

“I am so…” I clench my hands into tight fists and squeeze my eyes shut. My chest feels tight. “Ugh.” I stomp the ground. “I can’t even think straight. You boys are so…so…stupid!” 

“I’m so sorry, Diana.” 

I open my eyes and take a deep breath finding Jonathan looking at me. I notice the bags under his eyes and how disheveled and stressed out he looks. He’s been through a lot the past few days, but it’s no excuse to do something like this. He looks down at his camera, toying with the cracked lens. For as long as I’ve known Jonathan, he’s never without his camera and now with Will gone, I know he has been more attached to it now, more than ever. 

“Let me see,” I sigh, extending my hand. Jonathan looks at me for a moment, but hands me his camera. 

I inspect the damage. It’s bad. He definitely won’t be able to use the camera anymore. Part of me thinks he deserved the confrontation, but the other part doesn’t think Stee had a right to break his camera. That was going overboard. Nonetheless…

“Steve didn’t need to break your camera to prove his point.” I begin, handing the camera back to him. “But honestly, it was justified. You invaded his privacy too, Jonathan.” 

When he doesn’t reply. I shake my head, fixing my bag on my shoulder. From the corner of my eye, I see someone coming towards us and I brace myself for round two, but when I turn, it’s Nancy. She’s speed walking and there’s a worried look on her face. Nancy touches my arm and pulls me. 

“I need you to come with me,” she whispers.

NEXT -> PART IV

[babylovepresley]

the face i once held

TW: references to elvis’ death, ANGST, SKIP TO 1:31 FOR THE FULL EFFECT, christmas sadness

when i close my eyes, i can still feel him. he exists in me, he is my unshakeable force. it’s my first christmas without him, and now what? i stand alone at the gates, like i had never known him at all. like i had never taken him into my arms and wept and waited for a soft exhale from his nose to let me know he was here, and he still loved me.

i watch as graceland springs to life; unable to look away from the life i had once lived. a part of me wants to peer through the window and see elvis’ smiling face, wearing a velvet santa cap proudly. i stare ahead of me, and i know he isn’t coming. i can’t move, i can barely breathe without him here. it feels wrong to smile and be holly and jolly or whatever i’m supposed to be without him.

the snow pounds down outside, and i imagine what it would be like to hold him now. a chill runs up my spine as the cold winter wind picks up; without him i doubt i’ll ever be warm again. just to feel him, to be held by him one more time… to rest my chin on his head and coax him to sleep like a child on christmas eve would be the greatest gift of all.

“alright y’all… lights up in 3!” the groundskeeper yells, and the women surrounding me at the gate yell in excitement as we stare.

i’m reminded of our first christmas together, nearly 6 years ago. he was so happy, i used to joke he shouldn’t be decorating the tree, but rather on top of it for all the world to see. he’d giggle and scrunch his nose, and if i try hard enough i can feel the wrinkles under my fingertips; though they’re numb now. he was always so excited to decorate, my sweet boy. i wonder if he’d like the decorations this year, i wish i could ask him.

“elvis?”

“yes babydoll?”

“do we really need six different types of garland?” i’d joke, knowing how tedious he got about decorating perfectly

stepping down from the stool beside the large christmas tree (that he cut himself, but was definitely too big for graceland) he sighed “WHA— baby, of course we do. how else is sandy clause gonna find us?”

“ i don’t know baby, maybe the giant reindeer on the lawn might help!” i joke

“hmmmmm” his eyebrows raise with the smirk i love so well, “sounds like somebody don’t want an early christmas gift…”

at that i turned my head. i hated when he spent money on me. to me, i got the greatest joy from just being with him; just speaking and hearing him speak.

“baby, i thought we weren’t gonna do gifts this year?”

“awh i know we said we weren’t but i was not about to let my best girl wake up on christmas mornin’ without sparklin’… c’mere baby ‘n close your pretty lil eyes”

quietly i walk towards him and close my eyes as he grips the sides of my arms. a beat of silence passes when i feel an aggressive “mwah!” on my lips, and something placed around my neck.

a gorgeous gold locket sits on my neck, dancing in the light of the tree that elvis put way too much ornaments on… but i’d never tell him that.

“oh elvis! it’s gorgeous…”

“ya like it baby?”

“i-i love it.. thank you so much” i tear up and move to open the locket,

“no no no baby! thas for when i go away, whenever ya miss me too much on the road yanno?”

for him, anything. so i ended my curious movement, and smiled in thanks, gripping his hands to my heart.

“thank you baby, but i didn’t get you anything…”

“well thas’ alright puppy i think i know a way you can make it up to me” he jokes, always with that suggestive glint in his eyes.

he pulls me to his chest, flopping backwards onto the couch and kissing me. the wind whistled through the window as he kissed me, holding me flush to him; afraid to let go. the lights of the christmas tree reflect on his face, and i swore i’d never forget how beautiful he looked.

i stare at that same window, half expecting to close my eyes and be back on that couch with him. when everything was good, and he was still mine. and he was still here.

the lights come up and cheers surround me, but i am lonelier than ever before. silently, i look to the sky… i look for him. i’ll always look for him, i think. for the rest of my life i will.

i cup the locket in my hands. it has faded and rusted with time, much like i have. my fingers trace over the inscription of the heart, and i pluck at the latch to open it.

my favorite photo of him sends the tears rolling down my frozen, wind whipped cheeks. he smiles so proudly as he holds the axe that cut down our first tree. the jacket he wears was too big for him, and i laugh slightly, bringing the picture to my frozen lips in a kiss. it’ll never be him, but i kiss it nonetheless, hoping i can feel his kind lips against mine again.

on the other side of the locket, my eyes bore into a little note written in his own messy handwriting.

merry christmas baby, i’m thinking of you always.

[farfromrealitypls]

Secret Santa

Summary: What you thought would be the worst Christmas of all time, turned out to become quite the opposite…

Warnings: language if you squint, making out and FLUFF<3

A/n: I said i’d post this beginning of December, but I kept forgetting and then it was so close to be Christmas. So I just waited a few more days. I hope you like it and if you think it’s cringy… I’m sorry:) Merry Christmas!! I hope you have amazing holidays <3

“I’m sorry honey. But this is a very important meeting” your mom tried to explain with a motherly look on her face.

You couldn’t hold back your tears anymore.

“Who schedules a meeting around Christmas?! You just can’t be serious. Tell me it’s a joke.”

They were joking right? They didn’t just tell you that they gonna leave two days before Christmas to attend a business meeting in Washington.

“Y/n Christmas is just a day like any other day. Yes, it’s unfortunate this year but who do you think pays for our house? Food? Vacation? Investors like Luke Montgomery. So if you want a roof over your head and food on the table, get it together and stop complaining. We’ll leave you some money so you can order food.” Your dad left the room. You rolled your eyes and tried to suck your tears back up.

He was wrong. Christmas isn’t like any other day at all. Christmas was the only time where your parents would be home, relaxed and no business talk AT ALL. It would be all happy family and it meant everything to you, always has. You were aware that your parents work hard to give you this lifestyle, but honestly you didn’t even care about all those materialistic things. Of course it’s nice to be financially stable and live a certain luxury. You wouldn’t consider you and your family as super kooks. But you were doing fine. But they could put you in a barn and you’d be just as happy, as long as you weren’t alone.

“Honey we will celebrate New Years twice as big to make up for the missing Christmas ok? “

Your mom opened her arms and pulled you into a hug. You hesitated but hugged her back.

“It’s not the same mom. Not even close. I don’t care about New Years”

„I‘m sorry honey. It will be fun, I promise“

Your mom wiped away your tears and gave you a warm smile, before following your dad.

Christmas was in two days and your parents just left for the airport. You faked a smile and convinced your mom you’d be ok. Even tho this was just terrible.

You closed the front door and let out a deep sigh. You were so angry and frustrated so you decided to clear your head and go to the country club. Topper would for sure be there. You and Topper have been childhood friends since forever.

Walking in, you immediately heard the familiar voice of Topper Thornton.

“Hey y/n! Come here!” He waved you over.

You made your way over to the table where he was sitting with Kelce. Drinks on the table.

Your bad mood must’ve been obvious because Kelce immediately made a comment.

“Damn what’s up with you? Where is your holly jolly Christmas mood?”

“Yeah. Shouldn’t you annoy everyone with cheesy Christmas songs already?“ Topper added.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

“No holly jolly me this year… my parents just left. They won’t be home for Christmas.”

“What?! You love Christmas.” Topper said tilting his head.

“Yeah no shit Sherlock! Why do you think I’m in a fucking bad mood”

You didn’t mean to snap at him like that, but your emotions overcame you.

“Woah easy there grinch” Kelce threw is hands up in defense.

“I’m sorry. I- I’m really upset about this” you let your hands drop and picked at your nails.

“I know. Come here.“ Topper got up and came closer.

He pulled you into a hug. And a tear rolled down your cheek.

“I would make you celebrate with me and my family but we’re leaving for Florida tonight”

“No it’s ok. I’ll just order some food and bake cookies or something like that“ you sniffled.

Both boys gave you a soft smile and you haven’t noticed Rafe walking in. Who was now standing next to you. Grumpy looking as always.

You didn’t know what to think about him. He didn’t talk much to you and you were sure he didn’t like you. Just tolerated you because you were friends with Topper. He was just always there. Making sarcastic comments and sometimes giving you a hard time.

When you felt his presents you faced him. Meeting his eyes and immediately wiped away the tears on your cheeks.

“Anyway. I’ll go now. I hope you have fun in Florida Top”

You turned around to leave.

“Yeah. I’ll call you y/n” Top said.

You nodded.

“Bye Kelce” you waved at him.

“Bye y/n. Merry Christmas…” he said, genuinely trying to lighten your mood.

“Yeah, Merry Christmas” you chuckled and sighed deeply. Then you left.

Rafe watched you walk away until he sat down. Joining his friends.

“What’s up with her?” He asked dry.

“Her parents won’t be home for Christmas this year. She’ll be alone and is really upset about that. Sucks. Her parents are barely home anyway.” Top explained.

Rafe sat silent for a few seconds.

“She’ll get over it” he said and poured himself a drink.

Christmas Eve:

You were laying in bed until 4pm before you motivated yourself to get up, just to go downstairs to lay on the couch some more. Wrapping yourself in blankets and realising there wasn’t even a Christmas tree this year.

This was definitely the worst Christmas ever. Even that one time you had to spend Christmas in the hospital was better than this. You had a really bad appendicitis and had to get surgery. But your parents came to visit and spent time with you, watching movies in your room.

You forced yourself to watch some Christmas movies and then decided to order a pizza when it got late. You were watching “home alone” when the doorbell rang, you got up, opened the door and payed the pizza guy.

“Merry Christmas” he said smiling

“Merry Christmas” you replied with a forced smile.

You stood on the porch for a minute when you noticed a small box sitting on the porch bench. You were confused for a second and looked around if you could see anyone near. You picked it up and the tag on it said “Merry Christmas y/n”

Nothing else. You didn’t know who it could be from. It’s not your parents, obviously. You got your Christmas present early from them, it’s gonna be a trip to California.

It’s not from your friends either because you all agreed to just throw money together and go on a trip, instead of buying each other gifts.

The only explanation you had was that Topper maybe wanted to surprise you and told someone to drop this off.

You stopped the thinking and took it inside. You set the pizza on the counter and opened the gift. It was a bracelet with a deer charm on it. It was absolutely beautiful. You held it on front of your face to look at it closer. It was shiny and the little dots on the deers back were little diamonds.

“A deer?” You mumbled to yourself. You couldn’t wrap your head around the deer charm but it made you smile anyway. This is by far the most beautiful piece of jewellery you own and it definitely made your night better. But you were intrigued to find out who it was from, it had to be Topper.

You sat back on the couch and ate your pizza, the rest of the night went by fast and you ended up passing out on the couch, cuddled up and TV still running.

You woke up by the sound of your phone ringing. Whining you grabbed your phone and picked up the call.

“Merry Christmas!!” Toppers voice echoed through your head.

“Merry Christmas Top” you mumbled with closed eyes.

“How’s the mood sleepy head?”

You realised he was on FaceTime and you opened your eyes.

“It’s fine. How is Florida?”

“Oh it’s nice yk, warm”

“Yeah, hey Top?”

“Mhm?”

“Did you give this to me?”

You grabbed the bracelet from the coffee table in front of you and held it into the camera.

You didn’t wanna put it on yet, not before you 100% knew who it was from.

Topper squinted his eyes to have a better look and held his screen closer to his face.

“No? I was gonna bring you something from Florida” he shook his head.

“You don’t know who it’s from?” he added.

“No. It was sitting on the bench on our porch last night. The tag said “Merry Christmas y/n”

“But not who it’s from?”

“No.”

“Hmm. Your secret lover must be some kind of sugar daddy, because that is a really fucking expensive bracelet”

You held it close to your face once more, dangling it in front of your eyes.

“What’s the charm on it?”

“A deer”

“A deer?”

“Yeah”

“I have no clue y/n”

You let out a sigh.

“I think I’ll get a coffee from the new coffee shop and make some pancakes” you said with a soft smile.

“Sounds good. Keep me updated with the Bambi bracelet yeah?”

“Will do. Bye Top. Tell your parents Merry Christmas.”

“I will. Bye y/n”

You hung up and put your phone and the bracelet back on the coffe table.

You got up, stretched and that’s when it suddenly hit you. Bambi bracelet? You immediately had to sit down again.

Bambi was the nickname Rafe gave you a long time ago. But no, this couldn’t be. You physically tried to shake the thought out of your head.

There has to be another explanation. It can’t be from him.

You thought about it for a few more minutes, but Rafe was without a doubt the only person that calles you Bambi. You never understood why but it didn’t really bother you.

And that would be the only explanation for the charm of a deer. It wasn’t like a deer was your favourite animal or Bambi your favourite movie. It just wouldn’t make sense. But there is absolutely no way, Rafe wouldn’t do that. Not for you. He didn’t even like you.

While you got ready to leave the house to get some coffee, you thought about it so much that it gave you a headache. You kept repeating in your head “It’s not from Rafe” All of this made you realise that you secretly wished it was from Rafe.

When you opened the door, the cold air hit you and it felt amazing, almost blowing all those thoughts out of your mind.

You got into your jeep and drove off, “Santa baby” blasting through your speakers.

You parked in front of the shop, got out and walked over to the front door. That’s when you saw Rafe Cameron in front of the shop, leaning on his truck, looking at his phone.

Your heart started racing. Should I ask him? If it really wasn’t him, that would be so embarrassing.

You went back and forth in your own head until you finally found the courage to just go for it. The curiosity was just too big.

You walked up to him.

“Hey Rafe” you said smiling.

He looked up for a second, then looked back down at his phone.

“Hey” he said dry.

“Merry Christmas” you said friendly.

“Merry Christmas” he replied, not looking up from his phone.

He was a douche but he looked absolutely stunning, his hair parting in the middle, falling onto his forehead and wearing a button up that hugged his biceps tightly.

You stood there awkwardly for a while, just looking at him and thinking about a good way to bring up the gift.

“I- last-did you “

You stumbled over your words and Rafe looked up at you confused. He raised one eyebrow when you paused your stuttering to start over.

“Did you put a gift for me on my porch on Christmas Eve?”

“No? Why the hell would I?” He tilted his head and shoved his phone into his pocket.

“Are you sure? It’s a bracelet with a deer charm on it.”

You started to feel stupid.

“Well, must be from another lover because it wasn’t me” he said cold, staring into your eyes.

“Right…” you whispered.

You looked at your feet, feeling embarrassed.

“But-“

“Jesus Christ. Just go order your coffee Bambi!”

Rafes eyes widend and he started blushing when he realised what he just said.

“It was you!” You brought out in a high pitched voice. Eyes big and body filled with excitement.

He swallowed and clenched his jaw before talking to you again.

“Alright. Just don’t make a big deal out of it ok? I just didn’t wanna listen to you saying how this was the worst Christmas ever over and over again.” he said in a low voice, almost a whisper, like he didn’t want anybody to hear.

A huge smile crept on your face and you looked at him in awe.

“You didn’t have to Rafe” you said quietly and made a few steps towards him.

“Whatever” he tried brushing it off.

“Can I hug you?”

Before he could answer you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close. It took him a few seconds but surprisingly he started to wrap his arms around your waist and squeezed you tightly. He took a deep breath.

Why did that feel so right? He didn’t let go until you did.

You pulled away just enough to look at him, letting your hands glide down his body, stopping at his chest.

He gave you his signature grin and stared into your eyes. His hands still on your waist.

The moment was interrupted when Rose stepped out of the shop, holding two coffe trays in her hands.

“Rafe. Come take one” she commanded.

You let go of him and he walked over and took one of the trays from Rose.

“Y/n! Merry Christmas.” She cheered when she saw you.

“Merry Christmas Rose” you smiled softly.

Rose got into the passenger seat and Rafe handed her the other tray he was holding.

He closed the door and started walking around his car but stopped to walk towards you, pulling you in with one hand around your waist and placed a kiss on your cheek. Without another word he got into his truck and drove off.

Your cheeks were burning and suddenly you didn’t feel cold anymore. Did that really just happen?

You ordered your coffee and drove back home.

While making some pancakes you could still feel his hands on you and kept smiling to yourself. The way he looked at you made your legs feel like jello. You debated if you should call Topper and tell him, but you decided not to.

You spent the day exactly like yesterday. Watching movies, laying on the couch. It was a lonely Christmas, but definitely surprising.

„His heart grew three sizes that day“ you repeated after the narrator. Then your doorbell rang.

You opened the door and almost verbally gasped when you saw the face you’ve been thinking about all day. He stood there, hands in his pockets, hair looking perfect and looking at you in a way that only Rafe Cameron could.

“Rafe?” you said more to yourself than him.

You were so confused by his appearance that you just stood there, holding the door.

“Are you gonna let me in or is there a secret password?” he said sarcastically.

“Oh yeah sorry, come in” you replied awkwardly and stepped out of the doorframe. He walked in and you closed the door.

You smiled at him and waited for him to say something.

“I just thought you needed company on Christmas day, since you’ve been alone yesterday” he said like it’s obvious and shrug his shoulders.

Your eyes lit up at his explanation. “Yeah i’d love that” you replied smiling.

“I mean, if you have plans I can-“

“No please stay” you cut him off and he grinned.

He stepped a little closer. “So what were you up to?”

“Just watching movies” you said quietly because him being closer made you nervous.

“Let’s go then” she smiled and stared into your eyes.

You made your way over to the couch. He sat on one end you and you on the other. You threw him a blanket and put on another Christmas movie. You guys giggled, had some snacks and Rafe complained about the cheesiness of all the movies.

You caught yourself staring at him, admiring him. He looked so mesmerising and you imagined yourself laying in his arms, you never thought you would but he didn’t seem scary at all anymore. You imagined what it would feel like to have his huge arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.

“I know yout staring” he said grinning, eyes still focused on the TV.

You started blushing and took your gaze off him quickly. Rafe chuckled and then turned his head to look at you. Your eyes met his. You let your eyes wander from his to his body and back to his eyes.

“Come here” he lifted his blanket.

Your heart made a jump and you crawled onto him. His big arms wrapped around you and you rested your head on his chest. You could hear his fasted heartbeat. You took a deep breath. He smelled so good, his cologne was addicting.

You continued watching the movie cuddled up and he started to run his hand through your hair. It made you feel all warm inside and sent a shiver through your spine. Why was he so nice to you out of the sudden?

“Rafe I’m confused” you almost whispered.

“About what?” He whispered back.

“This”

“What confuses you?”

You sat up to look at him.

“I thought you didn’t like me” you said softly.

“Well you thought wrong” a grin appearing on his perfect face.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you questioned.

“Why didn’t YOU say anything?” He replied shrugging his shoulders.

“Because I was sure you were gonna reject me”

“There you go. There is your answer” his hand reached up and he gently tugged a strand of hair behind your ear. You reached for his wrist and ran your fingers over it and down his forearm. His gaze shifted to the bracelet that was wrapped around your wrist. He grabbed your wrist with his other hand and looked at it closer.

“Do you like it?” he whispered smiling, looking at you.

“I love it.” You smiled back.

He pulled you closer to him by your wrist until you hovered over him. Hands placed on each side of his head. You felt his hands on your waist, giving it a squeeze. You looked at his perfect lips and finally bent down to kiss him. He immediately kissed you back and his soft lips made your heart race. Your lips moved in perfect sync and it felt like this was meant to be. You unconsciously moved closer and gently pushed your knee between his legs, which made him let out a low grunt. That sound made heat travel to your core. He ran his big hands softly under your shirt, running his fingers along your sides and over your back. He smiled into the kiss when he realised that you weren’t wearing a bra.

That’s when you suddenly pulled away.

“Are you hungry?” You said out of breath, lips plump from the make out.

“Not for food” his eyes were dark and a wide grin crept on his face.

You cleared your throat and could feel yourself blushing.

“Not even cookies?” your voice cracked.

Rafe scanned your face and realised you weren’t sure of this anymore. He took one hand off your waist and cupped your cheek, running his thumb over it, smiling at you softly.

“You wanna bake some?” he asked.

You nodded and got off him. Both of you got up. You bit your lip and got nervous. What if he’s pissed now?

“I-I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want to. I just-“

“You don’t need to explain yourself” he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him a little more rough than he intended to.

“That’s not what I came for” he smiled softly.

You leaned against his chest, squishing your face against it. He wrapped both arms around you and placed a kiss on top of your head. You looked up at him and he gulped.

“Oh before I forget. What’s with my nickname? Why Bambi?” You asked genuinely curious.

“You do this thing with you eyes. It makes me all nervous and shit.”

“What thing?”

Instead of answering he ignored you and just grabbed your face with both of his hands and kissed you. You didn’t complain and didn’t bother asking again.

You made your way to the kitchen, put on a Christmas playlist and started baking. You laughed a lot and had a great time. You never knew Rafe could be that way.

He was standing on the opposite side of the counter, looking at the recipe once more while you were mixing some ingredients in the bowl.

Your favourite song came on (Happy Xmas by John Lennon) and you gasped, your eyes lit up and you dropped the whisk.

“What?” Rafe looked at you confused.

“That my favourite song!” You squealed, big smile on your face.

He giggled at your reaction and shook his head.

“Let’s dance!” You cheered.

“Hell no.” He chuckled and looked back down at the recipe.

“Oh come on. Please?” You pouted and stared into his eyes.

“Fuck” he let out in a groan.

“That’s what I meant! You can’t look at me like that” he sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

You bit your lip, smiling, still holding eye contact.

“Fine c’mere” he held his hand out for you.

You quickly ran around the counter and took his hand, he pulled you in, placing his other hand on your waist. You placed your other hand on his biceps.

You were staring into each other’s eyes, swaying to the music. It felt like a dream.

“You know, this isn’t the worst Christmas at all.” You confessed.

“Yeah. Could’ve been worse for you than dancing THE Rafe Cameron”

You rolled your eyes and he laughed at his own comment.

Then he spun you around and when he pulled you back in, he crushed his lips on yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing yourself as close to him as possible and Rafe slung his arms around you once again.

You both pulled away to look at each other.

“What was on your wish list this year?” You asked, hands sliding down to his chest.

He grabbed your face, softly running his thumb over your lips.

“You”

You looked at him in awe.

“That was so cheesy”

He broke into a grin.

“I know” he chuckled and placed his lips on yours once more.

[jakesuit0]

Memory of a Memory Review

Finn and Jake rush to help Marceline at the calling of a wizard. It’s sweet that Finn and Jake run faster when they find out it’s their friend in peril. Finn and Jake show a lot of care for Marcy in this one. We’re at the point where they view Marceline as one of the most important people in their lives. This is really the last episode where Finn and Jake’s relationship with Marceline feels ever-evolving, this is basically the status quo of their dynamic for the rest of the series. The “wizard” knowing to turn to Finn and Jake, implies that Ash has done his research on the current state of Marcy’s life, and has probably been spying on her. Claiming he’s her spirit animal is absurd but funny. It’s an obvious hint that he’s lying, but it’s easy to believe that it could be true in this weird world.

Ash claims he can’t be the one to help Marcy because he has no arms. It’s a funny excuse that works to add more suspicion. Finn and Jake enter Marceline’s memories to erase a sleeping spell. It’s an exciting premise on the face of it, given we still know almost nothing of her backstory. We start at an early point in Marceline’s life, and move mostly in chronological order throughout. We see a destroyed city, our first brief look at the world five or so years after the mushroom bomb dropped. It also serves as confirmation that Marceline lived through the apocalypse. She looks two or three years older than in the “Simon & Marcy” flashbacks, but maybe two years younger then when Simon abandons her. Her age, and possession of Hambo, places it between “Simon & Marcy” and the second flashback in “Everything Stays”. So, where the fuck is Simon? She’s running around all by herself. There’s a couple possible hand waves. Simon could be behind a tree taking a shit. He was at a period of his life where he had less control over the crown, so maybe he flew off on a crown-induced escapade, or purposefully distanced himself when he knew he was going to have an episode. He could also be searching for ways to summon Hunson Abadeer. It’s not exactly canon-shattering, but it's definitely a bit of a continuity error. The crew had some idea that there’s a deeper connection between Ice King and Marceline, as evidenced by hints in “Holly Jolly Secrets” and “Marceline’s Closet” this season, but this scene is clearly a result of them not really having the Simon and Marcy backstory planned yet. The most striking disconnect is little Marcy calling Hambo her “only friend”. In “Betty”, Marceline instead refers to Simon as her only friend during that period of her life. Marceline sews Hambo’s button eye back on, like Simon how sews a button back on Marcy’s overalls in “Simon Petrikov”. Simon must have taught her how to sew in the interceding years. She tells Hambo she’s hurting him because she loves him. This might be a coping mechanism she picked up on from Elise and/or Simon.

Finn and Jake pass by Marceline picking her nose, showing for the first time how gross she can be while by herself. Next we get to see the infamous fry eating incident, and they even got Martin Olson back for this short cameo. Marcy looks a few years older than in “Marcy & Hunson’s” flashback. I don’t think Marcy was with Hunson this whole time, it wouldn’t make sense for them to be on Earth together for a few years. This must have been one of Hunson’s infrequent awkward visits, possibly the first time they saw each other since their reunion in the previously mentioned episode. She may have even gotten the bass axe during this visit. It’s cool seeing Adventure Time already building on its pre established backstory, and they continue this trend in the next memory. Ash helps Marcy move into the treehouse, referencing “Evicted!”.

Next, probably a couple years later, we see Marceline clearly feeling checked out of her relationship. Ash comes home, revealing he sold Hambo to a witch (Maja) to get a new wand. Marceline dumps Ash, and Olivia Olson’s voice acting here is incredible, especially the “it’s over you psycho!”. Marceline dated Ash during a time when her self-esteem was at its lowest, feeling like a monster that didn’t deserve any better. Ash was probably a rebound after her relationship with Bubblegum, probably starting a relationship with him within a few decades of her breakup with PB. Ash and Marceline’s relationship is very uncomfortable to watch. The “Mar Mar” pet name makes me queasy. Ash still somehow manages to have one funny line, saying he didn’t ruin “all” of her life to defend himself. The episode just gives us tiny glimpses into a few parts of Marceline’s life. Later episodes make this up, but it would have been nice to get just another couple memories in this one. It’s funny in hindsight how we skip over all the biggest parts of Marceline’s past (Elise, Simon, the vampires, PB). If this was a later season episode, Simon and Bonnie definitely would have made appearances. 

Finn and Jake jump into the memory core, which has an unbelievably cool design, with white silhouettes over the black background. Each of the memory balls has a corresponding symbol, and I’ll do my best guess to analyze the meaning behind many of them:

-A portal to the Nightosphere: a memory involving Hunson, possibly the events of “It Came From the Nightosphere” -A roll of yarn: the first memory Finn and Jake entered of Marceline sewing Hambo

-A weight: working out after her break up with PB or Ash

-Marceline’s high heels from “Evicted!” and “Henchman”

-A tree: the memory of Marceline moving into the treehouse

-A wolf: her dog Schwabl 

-A snowman: Simon and the ice crown

-The shovel and/or grave: the death of Elise

-A hand: no idea, maybe meeting the tribe of humans in “Everything Stays”?

Finn and Jake return to the physical world, and Ash reveals he had Finn and Jake erase the memory of their breakup. Her memories of moving on from the breakup must have been altered by this too. Ash intends on bringing her back to his place. This is basically just a metaphor for date rape drugging and has to be the most traumatic thing Marceline has experienced in the present timeline of the series. Another sign of abuse is Ash’s negging, with the “that’s a relief” to Marcy saying she’s going to freshen up. 

Jake tracks Ash and Marcy down with his rarely used super-scent. Jake bashing the shed to get Ash’s attention, only to find it's the house of a defenseless goblin, is the funniest joke of the episode. Finn runs in to tell Marceline the truth. Marcy says that Ash doesn’t like her hanging out with “mere mortals”. In addition to showcasing another red flag, controlling who she sees, it provides more context to the time of their relationship. It’s the second Marceline episode in a row where bad people from her past are shown to reinforce Marcy’s past ambivalence to the lives of mortals. She was probably part of the ghost gang from “Heat Signature” shortly before or after her breakup with Ash, more company that reinforced her low self-esteem. 

Finn brings Marceline into his own memories, set inside his childhood home with Joshua and Margaret. We can see Jermaine in one of the pictures. There’s other dogs too, presumably from Joshua and Margaret’s extended family (maybe the grandmother mentioned in “Ignition Point” is one of them). Marceline sees baby Finn perform the “Buff Baby” dance. It’s second only to “Bacon Pancakes” in terms of viral sensation. It’s funny and cute, but a bit overrated. It also shows how young Finn was when he became obsessed with fighting evil. Finn looks a few years older than the flashback in “Memories of Boom Boom Mountain”, but a couple years younger than in “BMO”. Finn showing Marceline his memory of seeing her memory is such a clever solution, foreshadowed by the cleverly named title of the episode. She immediately seems to believe Finn, even before seeing the memory. This shows the trust she’s gained for Finn over the series, and that she has always known that Ash is a terrible person capable of evil. She has a muted reaction to this, but you can tell she is hurt inside. 

They really go all the way with portraying Ash as a stereotypical misogynist, with him literally telling her to get back into the kitchen. He’s a loser who can’t even make his own sandwich. Marceline and Finn beat up Ash, which is a justified response to attempted sexual assault. He’s one of the most sociopathic characters in the series, and the most despised character among the fans. He has his own hatedom. He’s fun to hate, but he’s a good character that provided a great foil to Marceline while showing the reality of how some men behave towards women. Jake stomping him with a giant foot is a perfect ending. The episode follows the route of “It Came From the Nightosphere” in using Marceline as a way to explore trauma more specific to the experience of a young woman or teenage girl. It’s also really nice to get some good Marceline drama that’s not tied to Princess Bubblegum or a parental figure for once. 

Grade: A

[destiny-fics]

Santa Baby

[Eric Sohn x Lee Felix x Fem!reader]

Pairing: Eric Sohn x Lee Felix x Fem!reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Summary: You and your roommate Felix both get jobs as elves at your local Santa's Village for the Christmas season. While trying to deal with entitled parents and their equally entitled children isn't how the two of you would love to spend your holiday season the pay isn't half bad and it's incredibly close to the Holly-Ivy. When Bang Chan, the regular Santa actor, leaves to go spend Christmas with his girlfriend's family, you and Felix are left with no Santa. Until the new hire comes along.

Warnings: smut, threesome (M x M x F), bisexual Felix, bisexual Eric, sub Eric and Felix, dom reader, swearing, alcohol consumption, polyamory, friends with benefits, established relationships, the song Santa Baby, Eric gets called 'hot Santa,' Felix gets called 'Lix and Lixie,' anal sex, fingering (m receiving), swearing,Felix and the reader grind on each other over Eric's dick, unprotected sex, please wrap before you tap

General Taglist: @hiseu @yeosayang @avyskai @whatudowhennooneseesyou @foxdaisy @lickslixie @maskedmochii

Part of the Holly Jolly Christmas Series

Series Masterlist

Smut under the cut. Minors DNI

“Don’t look now, but Hot Santa is looking at you.”

You sighed as you turned towards your roommate Felix, catching sight of the aforementioned ‘hot Santa’ as you did.

“I don’t know Lix, I think he’s looking at you.”

And you definitely couldn’t blame hot Santa for looking. While most of your other coworkers, yourself included, looked silly all dressed up in the red and green costumes with pointy elf ears and hats, Felix seemed to almost look natural in the costume. It wouldn’t even be a stretch to say he looked pretty, in fact, he managed to make a tacky Christmas Elf costume look gorgeous.

Neither you nor Felix had been thrilled to have to put on the costumes every time the Christmas season rolled around, but a job was a job and both of you liked working with the regular Santa, Chan, who happened to live a couple of floors above you and Felix’s apartment with his girlfriend.

This year however, Chan wouldn’t be around for the holiday period, so a new Santa had been hired, hot Santa.

Hot Santa was a guy around your age named Eric Sohn. Eric had bleach blonde hair which was perpetually messy and boundless energy which kind of made him perfect for the Santa role. Both you and Felix had been smitten with him from the start, but reserving your drooling over him for the safety of your apartment. He was gorgeous and sweet and genuinely really enjoyed both his job and the Christmas season. Anyone who could put up with entitled children and their even more entitled parents all day and still come back into work the next day with a smile as bright as Eric’s was like a god in your books.

Oh, and it definitely didn’t hurt that Eric was fucking ripped.

Felix would swear up and down that walking in on Eric changing had been a complete accident, but you knew your best friend better than that, especially when you had been wearing the exact jacket of Felix’s he claimed to have “lost” when he went back into the change room just after Eric had.

“You should have seen his abs y/n,” Felix had gushed to you over a glass of wine when the two of you had gotten home for the night. “Total washboard, you could do your fucking laundry on those things.”

You laughed at the memory now, pinching Felix’s cheeks gently as the man blushed. “Nah, he’s definitely looking at you y/n.”

“How about this,” you hummed softly, eyes flicking back over to Eric. Whatever you were going to say died on your tongue as you caught the hungry gaze Eric had fixed both you and Felix with. This wasn’t the same energetic guy you were both used to, he looked like he wanted to eat you. “He’s looking at both of us.”

Felix, in his usual unsubtle fashion, gasped, turning around to see whether Eric really was looking at the both of you. But Eric, upon realising he had been caught, turned away from you and Felix, a pink blush dusting his cheeks.

“Lix!” You hissed, turning him back to face you “could you get any more unsubtle?”

“I probably could actually,” Felix grinned. “It’s part of my charm.”

You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be annoyed with him, laughing even as you rolled your eyes. "As much as I'd love to see that. I don't think Eric would appreciate you doing that in the middle of work."

"You're probably right," Felix sighed softly. "Guess I'll just have to stick to flirting with you at work then."

You laughed again, patting Felix on the cheek "you can flirt with me plenty at home Lix, how about while we're at work, you actually do your job?"

"Boo, you're no fun," He pouted, giving you a kiss on the cheek before bounding over to help Eric get the little Santa's workshop set ready for when the store opened.

~

"Santa Baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me." Felix hummed softly as he fixed the placement of Eric's white beard and perfecting the finishing touches on his Santa look. "I've been an awful good boy, Santa Baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight."

Eric chuckled softly at Felix's choice of song, resting his hands lightly on the other man's waist.

"You know I think y/n hates that song. She always looks like she's in pain when it plays in the store."

"Oh she hates it," Felix grinned. "And really that only makes me want to sing it more."

"What's going on between the two of you anyway? You guys are…awfully close."

Felix raised an eyebrow before smiling so wide that his eyes creased up on the sides and he let out a short, little laugh.

"Is that your way of asking if we're together?"

"Are you together?"

Felix laughed again, shaking his head "No…not really."

"Not really? Felix, how can you not really be together?"

"Well, we live together, we know practically everything about each other. And like, you know we kiss and fuck and stuff."

Eric choked on the air and Felix paused, raising an eyebrow before continuing. "But we've never put a label on it."

"But you want to?"

"Is it that obvious?" Eric's sheepish smile was all Felix needed to confirm that yes, it was that obvious. "Yeah I'd like to put a label on it, but if she's happy with what we have I'm not going to push her into a relationship. So I won't stop you from pursuing her if you want to."

"Would you stop me if I wanted to pursue the both of you?"

Felix’s breath hitched at the question and at Eric's fingers beginning to massage soft circles into his waist.

"No, I wouldn't stop you. But I'll have to warn you, she's not one for labeling things."

"That's alright," Eric chuckled softly, "I've got a plan."

~

Eric's plan, it so happened, was made to take place at the store's holiday party. He had almost choked on his drink when you and Felix had approached him. The neckline of your dress was cut so low on anyone else it would look entirely inappropriate, but on you it managed to look elegant, like all dresses should be that low or cut that way. There were small peekaboo cut-outs along the dress' torso which gave Eric flashes of the skin of your waist and the entire outfit was tied together with dainty silver bracelets and sparkly shoes. The entire outfit was such a far cry from the Santa's elf costume you wore daily. So much so that it had Eric's head spinning and he almost forgot his entire plan. Looking at Felix didn't have him faring much better either. He had forgone any makeup, instead letting his freckles shine, dotted across his face like pretty constellations. His deep red shirt which, Eric noted, was the same deep tone as your dress and had been tucked into a pair of black dress pants. Eric also noted a silver bracelet adorning Felix’s wrist, the exact same as yours. But the thing that really made Eric choke on his Champagne? "You dyed your hair?"

Felix laughed as you both approached Eric, running his fingers through his now black locks. "Yeah, I thought it was time for a change."

"He looks good doesn't he?" You grinned, pressing a kiss to Felix’s cheek. "My pretty boyfriend."

Felix’s champagne almost slipped out of his hand at your words while Eric choked on his own drink. Eric raised an eyebrow at Felix who looked equally as shocked.

"Oh? When did that happen?"

"Last night," you hummed softly, making direct eye contact with Eric as you pressed a soft kiss to Felix’s neck. "Don't you remember Lixie?"

Felix, to his credit, did not pass out at the kisses you were now placing against his neck and Eric grinned a little bit, seeing what you were doing. He should have known better than to clue Felix in on his plan to be with you both, of course the man would have folded at the first brush of your lips against his.

Not that Eric was upset by it, in fact quite the opposite. And he was happy for you and Felix, incredibly happy.

"Yeah," Felix hummed softly, smiling at Eric. "I remember."

Your smile was fond and genuine and you pressed another kiss to Felix’s cheek before looking at Eric. "And…a little birdie told me of a plan you two had for tonight."

"What can I say?" Eric grinned at you over the lip of his champagne glass. "When I want something I go after it. And what I want is you two pretty elves."

Felix giggled at the endearment, looking between you and Eric with sparkling, expecting eyes.

"Hmm," you let go of Felix to get closer to Eric, running your fingers through his hair, before beginning to sing. "Santa Baby, slip a Sable under the tree, for me, I've been an awful good girl. Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight."

"I thought you hated that song."

"I do," you smiled, slipping Eric's hand in yours while Felix did the same to his other one. "But Felix likes it. And I like him." You began to lead Eric out of the party, and when he turned to send a questioning look to Felix, the other man simply laughed, leaning up to whisper in Eric's ear.

"She likes you too."

~

Eric would have to say he loved watching you and Felix together.

You both looked so beautiful, kissing and licking into each other's mouths, moans being passed between you as you grinded together. Even more wonderful was the fact that you were grinding together, on top of him, his cock pressed between your bodies making him moan and pant as he watched you both.

You had taken barely any time to undress Eric once you had arrived back to you and Felix's apartment, both you and Felix placing hot, wet kisses over any part of his body that you could reach. He didn't quite know what you and Felix were going to do with him and he hadn't quite expected it to be the two of you, completely naked and grinding over his cock. But he wasn't complaining, not at all, in fact if this was all you and Felix were going to give him that was something he could live with.

"Listen to him Lix," you hummed softly, detaching your lips from your boyfriend to look at Eric. "He sounds so desperate."

"Yeah he does," Felix grinned. "Want him to fuck me."

Eric swallowed hard, nodding quickly. You giggled at his enthusiasm, and pressed a sweet kiss to Felix’s cheek. "I think he wants that too. You wanna fuck Felix while he fucks me?"

It took Eric a while to recognise that you were speaking to him, but when he did, he nodded again, voice breaking around a plea. "Yes y/n, please. Wanna fuck him, wanna fuck him while he fucks you."

You and Felix shared twin grins before Felix was hovering over Eric to give him a bruising kiss and you began to get to work on propping Felix to take Eric.

The prep felt tortuously long for Felix, but even more so for Eric who had to watch the gorgeous man above him fall apart as your fingers stretched him out. And then finally you and Felix were switching positions so that Eric was behind Felix, him hovering above you. Both men let out satisfied moans as Eric pushed into the tight heat of Felix's ass and Felix groaned once more when he pushed inside of you. You stroked your thumb over Felix's cheek, mapping out the freckles which laid across his face.

"You guys can move now," you hummed softly "Fuck us Eric, please."

Eric didn't need any more permission than that, thrusting into Felix so hard that he didn't even need to push himself into you, Eric doing practically all the work for him. The sound of skin colliding with skin filled your small bedroom, accompanied by a melody of pretty moans from each of you. Eric's hands were grabbing tight at Felix's hips as he pistoned into him, pushing loud moans out of the other man. Felix's own hands were intertwined with yours, squeezing gently when everything got too much.

"You're both doing so well," you whispered, crying out as a particularly hard thrust from Eric sent Felix's cock even deeper inside of you. "Fucking me so well, my gorgeous boys."

"Your boys," Felix mumbled into your neck, squeezing your hand again. You could tell he was getting close and Eric could too, speeding up his thrusts, hips smacking against Felix's ass.

"Exactly," you smiled, whining when Felix removed one of his hands from yours to circle your clit. "Gonna make me cum pretty boys."

"Please," Eric moaned, feeling himself getting close to the edge too, "please c for me, both of you."

If Eric thought you and Felix looked beautiful before, it was nothing to how you looked when you were both cumming.

And even less to how the two of your looked in your afterglow, sweaty and panting as you allowed Eric to clean you both up before pulling him into the bed to cuddle with you. Your bed wasn't exactly made for three people, but neither you nor Felix seemed to mind, practically throwing yourselves on top of Eric to cuddle.

Eric let you, kissing both of your heads before he settled down for the night.

~

None of you had wanted to get up the next morning, even as the sunrise began to fall into early morning and eventually late morning sun. Eric was more than content to share soft kisses with both you and Felix as you lay together though, basking in the peaceful, loving, mid-morning environment you and Felix had created for him.

That was until.

"Santa Bab-Ow! Y/n! What the fuck was that for?" You didn't respond, instead rolling over Eric so you could properly attack your boyfriend with tickles, Felix squealing and kicking at you through giggles. Eric laughed as he watched you both, the fondness on his face absolutely reflected into your own expressions.

He was really glad he had taken that job.

And he couldn't wait for next Christmas.

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[carolmunson]

⭐️ i need a directors cut for i wish i had a river that story broke me in half put me back together and healed me

Director’s Cut Ask Game This is an excerpt from Wish I Had A River:

“Maybe I didn’t want one,” he bites, exhaustion turning into unbridled frustration, “God, you think everyone likes this shit? All this holly jolly crap?” You shake your head no, biting your lip to keep from crying but the tears well up anyway. “You know you’re just – you’re so caught up in the fuckin’ magic of it all cause you don’t know any different. Was your daddy ever callin’ you from jail on Christmas morning? You ever wake up to nothing and wonder why Santa kept missing your uncle’s fuckin’ trailer?” he kept ranting, the tinsel on the tree shook with every stomp of his black boots. You shook your head no again. “You have no fuckin’ clue! Not everyone wants to be reminded of all the shit they never had,” his nostril flared while he spoke, voice raising with every word that came out, “You think you’re doing me a fuckin’ favor?! Buying me shit, tryn'a get me to do these stupid arts and crafts? I’m not one of your students, Ms. First Grade – stop treating me like one.”

Director's Cut: Below The Cut

I wrote this fic in less than a day. It poured out of me like water. I think it was also one of my first fics that was written from Eddie's perspective. Maybe I'm lying. Maybe not. But I think it is. I really wanted there to be so much build to him finally snapping, very similarly to Wish I Had A River Part II where there's no where for him to go but blowing up. Once the floodgates opened he just couldn't stop. And I personally love Christmas, so I had to really put myself in the shoes of someone who doesn't. A true Grinch! And how it would feel to be around someone who still finds the holidays magical when they never had been to you. I also know the trials and tribulations of working retail during the holidays so writing that kind of stress was easy -- even more easy in the second part. But here, while he's yelling, I wanted him to also finally speak out loud why he hates the holiday. He hates that his dad sometimes called from jail, that his mom is dead and can't do christmas with him like when he was a kid, that Wayne could only ever afford one or two things and they were always from a discount shop. And then he'd have to go to school after break and hear all about everyone else's presents from Santa and wonder why Santa wasn't ever coming to his house. He'd been working so hard only to be reminded of the loneliness he felt as a kid. Like, 'oh shit, my girlfriend is just like those kids at school'. But of course, we realize that she's not and he kind of comes to his senses. Very much a: 'maybe Christmas doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas -- perhaps -- means a little bit more.'

[justagalwhowrites]

Holly Jolly - Ch. 1: Jolly Old St. Nicholas

Joel takes Sarah to meet Santa and meets an overly friendly stranger in line. Chapter one of Holly Jolly, a modern no-outbreak AU TLOU fic.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: None really!

Length: 2.6k

AO3 | Main Master List | Next Chapter

Joel Miller had never been big on Christmas. 

When he was a kid, it lost the magic pretty damn early. When your parents are just scraping by and are too proud to ask for help, the truth about Santa hits pretty young. From then on, it was just a constant reminder of what he didn’t have. Didn’t have parents who were willing to try to keep the magic alive for him and his brother, didn’t have a mother for his daughter, didn’t have a job that let him take time off to spend at home with her during the holidays. 

This year, it was the fact that he didn’t have the money to pull off Christmas at all. At least, not that he could figure out. 

“Daddy, look!” Sarah tugged on his fingers that were held tight in her sticky grip as they got in line, a sign that said “North Pole” over their heads. “Elves!” 

“Yes, Baby Girl,” he smiled down at her even though he didn’t much feel like it. “Elves, they’re here to make sure you’re a good girl while we wait in line.” 

“I’ll be good!” She said, first to him and then to a woman in peppermint striped leggings and a green felt dress. “I’ll be so good, I’ve been so good this year!” 

“I bet you have been!” The woman smiled before going back to counting people in line, ending with Joel and Sarah. He checked is watch - the band barely hanging on by a thread and the cheap plastic of the face chipped - and let out a small sigh of relief. They’d just made it, the mall closing in half an hour and the Santa line cut off time coming even sooner. 

“Wait!” There was a loud voice from behind him as the elf woman started roping off the line. He turned to see a woman who couldn’t be any older than him running toward the line, a girl about Sarah’s age on her hip. You all but skidded to a stop at the rope, the elf woman still holding the end of it. “Please, I’m so sorry, I got held up at work and it was just crazy tonight, can we still get in? We’ll be so quick, she’s so excited and I’ll buy the biggest photo package you have I promise.” 

The elf looked around and then lifted the rope. 

“Don’t tell anyone,” she smiled and gave the little girl a wink. “But only because you have been so good this year.” 

The little girl gasped as you set her down. 

“Aunt Cocoa, how did she know?” 

“Because she’s an elf,” you said, taking her hand. “Of course she knows!” 

Joel tried to not glare at you. You were wearing leggings that were covered in gingerbread men with a sweater that was the definition of an ugly Christmas sweater, green with tinsel and ornaments and lights hanging off it, a headband with antlers in your hair. He ground his teeth. 

Of course, it wasn’t your fault that it was only a week and a half to Christmas and he’d gotten fuck all done. And it wasn’t your fault that the only emotional energy Joel had was going to go toward making sure his daughter had a good night, not placating some childish woman. But damn, it sure seemed like you’d been dropped in front of him just to annoy him, the personification of all the forced cheerfulness that came with the holiday season right where he didn’t want it to be. 

“Aunt Cocoa!” The little girl by your side piped up. “Do you hear? It’s Rudolph!” 

You turned an ear toward the ceiling and smiled. 

“It IS Rudolph!” You said. “Now remind me, who is Rudolph again?” 

“He’s a reindeer!” Sarah piped up from her place at Joel’s side. He almost groaned. 

“Is he really?” You smiled down at her. “Who’s reindeer is he, do you think?” 

“Santa’s!” Sarah and the little girl you were with said at the same time and their faces lit up before they dissolved into giggles. 

“Hi!” Sarah smiled hugely, a gap where her front baby tooth had been just a few days earlier. “I’m Sarah!” 

“I’m Sharon!” The girl with you smiled back, also missing a tooth. “I’m five, how old are you?” 

“I’m five, too!” Sarah gaped at her, as though finding another child her age in line to see Santa was a miracle. “What school do you go to?” 

And just like that, they were off, chattering away in rapid fire, high pitched, little kid speak. You smiled at Joel, almost absently smoothing Sharon’s hair down, more like a parent would do than an aunt. 

“Hi,” you smiled at him as the kids babbled away to each other. Joel was pretty sure he heard the word Barbie from Sarah at the same time you gave your name. 

He frowned. 

“Thought your name was Cocoa.” 

“Oh,” you laughed. “Yeah, when Sharon was little - well, littler - I’d pick her up for girls’ day and the first stop was always Starbucks where I’d get a latte and she’d get a hot cocoa so I turned into Aunt Cocoa.” 

“Right…” Joel moved forward in line. 

“And what’s your name, Sarah’s… adult person?” You asked, smiling a little too broadly. There was glitter on your eyelids. Glitter. 

“I’m her Dad,” Joel said. “And I’m Joel.” 

“Good to meet you, Joel,” you just kept smiling. 

He was silent for probably too long before he realized he should probably respond. 

“You too.” 

Your smile fell a little but was still there and Joel turned to face forward again, Sarah still happily chattering to Sharon. 

The line, at least, was moving quickly and, as much as your syrupy tone and ridiculous outfit grated on him, Sarah’s patience for the line was far greater because Sharon was there for her to talk to. 

“So,” you were still smiling. How could someone smile that fucking long? Didn’t your face hurt? “These two seem to be getting on like a house on fire.” 

“Yup,” Joel said. The family in front of him stepped forward and Joel did, too. 

“Want to exchange numbers?” You asked. Joel raised his eyebrows at you and you stammered quickly. “I mean… you know, to try to get them together? Get some of that holiday energy out?” 

“If you want to give me her mom’s number,” Joel said, not especially wanting you to have his. 

You glanced down quickly at Sharon but she was laughing at something. Sarah laughed, too. 

“Well, I can’t…” you flinched a little. It was the first time he’d seen you not smiling like a maniac. “I’m kind of… Sharon lives with me?” 

You said it more like a question than a statement. 

“Right,” Joel said slowly. 

“So we could just trade numbers,” you smiled again. “Maybe the girls can go to a playground or something over the weekend?” 

The line moved again. 

“Sure,” Joel sighed, getting his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it. He passed it to you and you took it, adding your number. 

“Just going to text myself…” you said absently and then handed Joel’s phone back, the message still pulled up. You’d just typed “Santa Joel” with a little heart emoji after it. Joel was still looking at the screen when two messages from you showed up. One was a selfie - one you’d clearly taken another time, no glitter eyelids or antlers in sight - and the other just your name, followed by a heart emoji. 

“Smile!” You said and he looked up from his phone to see you taking a picture of him. He frowned and your face fell a little bit. “You know, for the contact picture?” 

“Right.” 

He looked down at his phone again. When you weren’t dressed like Christmas had thrown up, you were… pretty. Really pretty. Beautiful, actually, with soft eyes and a gentle smile. You looked like the kind of person people just wanted to talk to. Just the kind of person Joel didn’t need in his life.

The line advanced and Joel moved up. 

“Excited for Christmas?” You asked after the two of you had been silent for another few minutes and had moved forward more. 

Joel glanced down, making sure Sarah was still distracted. Sharon had pulled a small notebook out of her coat pocket and Sarah was looking over her shoulder, carefully reviewing the mass of stickers on the page. 

“Sure,” Joel said, not about to say how he actually felt about it with Sarah this close by. He looked you up and down. “Looks like you’re ready for it.” 

“Oh,” you laughed a little, looking down at the ridiculous sweater. “Yeah, I guess so! Anything you’re excited for?” 

The line moved. Joel could see the leg of the tripod the camera was set up on now, at least. 

“The food, I guess,” Joel said, even though that wasn’t really true, either. He usually got some cookie dough from the store so Sarah could decorate and Tommy had volunteered to host Christmas dinner that year but Joel was almost positive that it was going to be a damn disaster. His little brother could barely make mac and cheese, he didn’t see a full feast going well. 

“So good, right?” You said. “I love…” 

“Look,” Joel said, glancing down at the girls again. “Sure you… mean well and all but we’re getting close to the front of the line and I’d rather just stand here for the next five minutes, alright?” 

“Oh,” your face fell a bit. “Right, I’m sorry, I… right. Sorry.” 

You looked off to the side and Joel faced forward again. 

He almost felt bad for it as they neared the front of the line, but then he heard you humming along with the stupid Christmas song playing on the speakers overhead and he stopped. 

“OK!” The elf woman smiled down at Sarah. “Are you all ready to see Santa?” 

“Yeah!” Sarah beamed up at her. 

“Well that’s good, because you’re next!” She said, looking around the corner toward Santa. “Alright, looks like he’s already for you! Let’s go!” 

She lifted the velvet rope and Joel nudged Sarah forward, her face lighting up when she saw the fat, bearded man on his throne. She ran over to him and clambered on his lap. 

“I’ve been so good this year!” She said before Santa even got a chance to say hello. He laughed and helped her up. 

“I’m sure you have been,” he said. “And what’s your name? 

“Sarah!” She smiled her patchwork smile and Joel smiled, too. “I’m five, almost five and a half!” 

“That half is very important,” Santa nodded sagely. “And what do you want for Christmas this year, Sarah?” 

“A Barbie Dream House!” She said. “And a new Barbie and Ken to live there!” 

Santa glanced up at Joel who was trying to not freak out. A fucking Barbie Dream House? That couldn’t be cheap. Money had been tight since he’d bought the house a few months earlier. 

It was the worst house he could find in the best school district and he was still house poor as a result of the fucking thing. And, of course, after he closed one of his jobs fell through, so him and Sarah had gotten by on now maxed out credit cards for two months since buying the damn house had wiped out his savings. 

He’d just gotten paid for the most recent job the day before, a sharp relief when he deposited the check. He’d been down to $17.87 in his checking account, happy that there’d been a sale on some canned shit a few weeks earlier so the pantry was at least somewhat stocked. How the fuck was he going to afford a Barbie Dream House? 

Santa looked back at Sarah. 

“We’ll just see what we can do about that,” Santa said kindly. “Do you think you can keep being a good girl for me?” 

She nodded eagerly. 

“Then I’m sure you’ll have a very happy Christmas,” he said. “Why don’t you look at that camera, we’ll take a picture together.” 

Sarah sat up straight and smiled so big her eyes scrunched shut and the camera flashed. She jumped down and Sarah took his hand as they went to the booth to buy the pictures. 

“He was so nice!” Sarah said. “And he smelled kind of like the apple pie we had on Thanksgiving and I think he knows that I’ve been real good, Dad.” 

“He was nice,” Joel said, looking at the screen with the picture of Sarah on Santa’s lap and then the price list. “And I’m sure he knows how good you’ve been…” 

How was it $25 for a print out of a picture and a frame made out of fucking card stock? The whole damn season was a racket. 

“Just package A,” Joel said to the man dressed like an elf, pulling out his wallet and handing over his debit card. 

“Do you think he can make a Dream House?” She asked, holding onto his fingers. “How do the elves make all those toys, anyway?” 

“Well, they work real hard…” 

“I’m sorry sir, but your card was declined,” the elf man held Joel’s debit card out to him. “Do you have another card?” 

Joel’s chest got tight. 

“Can you try it again?” He said. 

“Already did,” the man said. “Twice more. It’s declined.” 

“Just…” Joel pulled his phone out. “One sec.” 

He opened his banking app and looked at his account. The check he’d deposited at the end of the day yesterday was there but still pending, funds not yet available. Fuck. 

He only had two credit cards, both of them were maxed out. He opened his wallet, hoping he had a $10 bill he’d forgotten about, then he could do $10 cash and the other $15 on the card… and nothing. Joel took the card back and put it in his wallet. 

“Do y’all keep the photos for a few days?” Joel asked. “I can come back tomorrow…” 

You were suddenly there in the doorway, Sharon in front of you. 

“No, I’m sorry sir,” the man said. “We wipe all the memory cards at the end of the day.” 

Joel took a look at the screen, at Sarah’s giant smile, trying to remember it. 

“Right,” Joel said, squeezing Sarah’s little hand. “Thanks, anyway.” 

Sarah, at least, didn’t seem to even notice, even though Joel wasn’t sure the last time he felt so fucking low. He couldn’t even afford to buy his daughter’s Santa picture, how the fuck was he supposed to make Christmas happen? With a Barbie Dream House no less?

“Joel!” Your voice was loud behind him and he turned to see you running toward him, a plastic bag printed with holly and candy canes held out in front of you, Sharon trailing behind. He frowned as you stopped in front of him, panting for breath. “Sorry, I’ve done more running today than I have all year! Anyway, this is for you.” 

You held the bag out and Joel’s frown deepened, taking it and looking inside. It was Sarah’s Santa picture in the stupid card stock frame and an ornament, the same picture encased in plastic. 

“It was a great picture,” you smiled. “You should have a copy.” 

“I’m not lookin’ for charity.” 

“Oh,” your face fell a little. “I wasn’t… It’s not… Just pay it forward when you can, OK? Merry Christmas.” 

You didn’t wait for him to respond, just taking Sharon’s hand and walking away. 

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