#abbie’s christmas shit!
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ioannemos · 17 days ago
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should've shopped "for a friend" the other day instead of for me... would've bought her crackers, ice cream, jello, soda, juice, etc, not just soup and a thermometer. granted, i'm not sure how i would've got it all home, but i would've made an effort. for her, yknow
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lexa-griffins · 1 year ago
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When they're not using the breeding bench for sex, do camgirls clexa repurpose the bench for something ordinary like hanging their clothes on it?
🤣 i they probably have a place in their basement/storage to keep it when its not in use but honestly i can see them just hanging the christmas lights or anything thedont want to tangle from it when its not in use.
And if anyone catches a glimpse of it under the boxes and lights, they most definitely say it a "stretcher" 😂
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james-stark-the-writer · 1 year ago
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oh. praying for her lmao, girlie, best to get off of socials while you can, for your own sanity.
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and the rest of you lot, don't fucking watch the show. especially not with how zionist the game narrative was.
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morgana-pendragon · 1 year ago
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my eyes and lips are far too sensitive for this makeup business
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aberooski · 1 year ago
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If I have another breakdown at work tomorrow like I did the last time I worked a Saturday I'm going to kill myself because last time I screamed in the hallway and cried so hard I was shaking because of how stressed I was.
#working at the movie theater sucks I hate people so much#I also hate that the movie theater was the best I could do even with a fucking degree because I've never had a job before#and I haven't even been there a month and I'm already the most fucking competent usher we have#i have to do fucking everything and I'm the only one keeping us on track every fucking day#also the only other ushers I actually like aren't the ones I consistently work with and tomorrow I have to work with the one that I hate#they literally do not pay me enough for this shit#anyway I'm back to considering opening art commissions becauae as I said they don't pay me shit and I really do need the extra money#also another reason I'm pissed about working tomorrow is that I have to miss christmas cookie baking at ny grandma's and that's one of-#-my favorite traditions every year. I'm actually very upset about it I might cry about it at work tomorrow.#alao they're making me come in at 10 am when all the other ushers don't start coming in until like 12 and the first theaters don't let out-#-until like 11:40 so there's literally no point in me being there that early other than to just piss me off#I'll take the extra like fuxking 20 bucka those 2 hours will get me but fuckibg seriously? I know I'm technically available-#-which is probably why but all it's gonna be is me making sure our usher cart is stocked then sitting around for an hour and a half#fuck everything#I fucking hate that this is my life this is awful#I can't have literally anything can I?#abby after dark#abby's having a crisis
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fappellmoan · 2 years ago
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being the silently designated deep clean roommate will make u a little evil.
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no-144444 · 27 days ago
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The Holidate (2020) - Lando Norris
‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡
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‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡
summary: Y/n, who gets mocked for being single, finds the perfect solution when she meets Lando, an F1 driver. Now she has the perfect date for her holidays, but her heart starts yearning for something more.
pairing: lando norris x fem! reader
8.8k words
disclaimer: i do not own anything in these films, the only original character is the character y/n.
‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡
You stood outside your perfect family home, a cigarette in hand. “Fucking holidays,” you sighed. Quickly grabbing some tic tacs from your bag and putting out your cigarette. You covered your tracks and stood in front of the door, willing yourself not to run away. The house was the image of suburbia and the nuclear family bullshit you were used to, the shit you grew up with and believed until you realised that men weren’t shit and you had to go focus on a career if you wanted to live in Chicago. 
“Happy holidays,” you faked a smile as you opened the door, your mother running up to you with a disappointed look. 
“This is what you’re wearing to Christmas dinner? Don’t you own a dress?” you scolded, and you rolled your eyes. 
“I’m great. Thanks for asking mom,” you sighed, following her into the house while taking off your coat. 
“Y/n!” your sister, Abby, cheered. “You’re here!” She pulled you away from your mother, who was busy complaining about something or other, and brought you close. “Mike said you didn’t call him back.”
“Yeah, I didn’t,” you shrugged. She gave you a stern look. “What? I can’t date a professional clown! I’d never sleep again.”
“Well, you need to date someone! It’s been months,” she complained. 
“Well, no one wants to date someone who lays around in their pyjamas all day,” your mother added. 
“It’s called being a remote worker, mom, and, it’s not like my boss cares,” you scoffed. 
“Are you smoking?” she asked, sniffing you feverishly.
“No mom, I’m not smoking,” you answered, your tone dry and robotic. You gently pushed her off.
“Because no man wants to marry a smoker,” she barked. 
“Good thing I’m not smoking anymore,” you lied. 
“No one wants to marry a smoker,” she instilled. 
“But you-”
“A smoker who lies,” she added, knowing how you’d caught her out. 
As the night went on, in came your brother and his girlfriend, your aunt (with a random guy she’d met the day before), and your brother-in-law with his gaggle of hell-spawn children. 
You watched as the festivities played on, your aunt all over her new man, you sister battling with the drink in her hand while her husband battled their children from shitting in the manger again, and you brother being over-attentive to his girlfriend. Sometimes you pity them. They have to take care of someone all the time, they always have someone there for them, someone to come home to every night, someone to wake up beside every day, it must be exhausting. 
You stood beside your aunt in the kitchen, escaping the happy couples and watching as her new boy gobbled at the food. 
“Isn’t he great?” she giggled. 
You grimaced. “Yeah.”
“Oh come on, it’s not like I’m planning on marrying him, he’s just my holidate,” she brushed off your concern. 
“A ‘holidate’?” you questioned. 
“Yeah, a holidate, y’know a date solely for the holiday,” she explained it like it was the most normal and regular thing in the world. “No commitment.”
“Y/n, I have a friend who wants to meet you!” your brother, James, called from the other room. You rolled your eyes. 
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As you sat at the (kids) dinner table, you were busy getting relationship advice from your 8 year old niece. That had to be a new low. She had a boyfriend, and you didn’t. Could your life get more pathetic?
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You all sat around in the living room, opening presents. Your sister got you pyjamas, two sizes too big. Your brother got you pyjamas, three sizes too big, and your parents got you, you guessed it!- pyjamas. At least those were the actual size. You faked as much enthusiasm as you could, and just smiled and nodded. How much worse could this Christmas get? 
As you all finished up opening gifts, your brother stood up, taking Liz’s hand. 
“Liz, I know it’s only been 3 months, and 6 incredible days, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice full of excitement. 
“Yes!’ she cheered. “Yes, I’ll marry you!” 
Your heart dropped. Your little brother was getting married before you. You were finally cemented as the pathetic sibling, forever. 
Worst. Christmas. Ever. 
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Little did you know, that just a few blocks away, someone else was going through a harrowing Christmas date experience…
Lando walked up beside Mandy, a girl he’d just-so-happened to have met in a random club over the break. He hadn’t planned to come to Chicago, but he just-so-happened to have ended up there, on the basis of Quadrant meetings and deal negotiations being held there. He had gone on two dates with Mandy so far, one of them being the time they met in the club. He had no idea why he hadn’t just flown home to go see his family and siblings, maybe even see Mila and babysit for a while. 
“Your parents know this is our third date, right?” he asked as they stood on the front porch. 
“Of course they do!” she smiled brightly. “I’m not even sure I told them you were coming-”
His heart dropped as the door opened, and they immediately turned to him. 
“Lando!” her mother cheered. “He’s even more handsome than in the pictures!”
“Pictures?” he mumbled, his face dropping. Obviously, he knew people were going to know who he was, he was an F1 driver for fuck’s sake. But something about the way she said pictures made his stomach drop, and he wasn’t sure if she meant pictures that Mandy had taken of him (he never posed for any), or the ones online. Something told him it was the first option, and he felt sick. 
Then ensued a night of pure agony, he was buried in baby photos, old trophies, and a look into this random girls’ life. As he stood in her childhood bedroom, he truthfully asked himself. “Fuck am I?” and groaned when he was called down to dinner. 
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After dinner, he went back up to Maisie’s room- or was her name Mandy? Anyways, to talk about the awful night. 
“What is going on?” he questioned, whisper-shouting.
“My parents fucking love you,” she smirked, pressing her lips to his. 
“What the fuck?” he asked again as she pushed him down on the bed, stripping herself. 
“Come on, y’know you like me,” she smirked, a sultry look in her eye. “You wouldn’t be here on a major holiday if you didn’t.”
“I already explained that I’m here for business purposes and-” 
She started kissing him, and he stopped caring about the strangeness of the situation when she started unzipping his trousers. 
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He sat sandwiched between her parents, matching ugly Christmas sweater on, opening a box full of… swimming trunks?
“Swimming togs… thanks,” he faked as much enthusiasm as he could as they all nodded. 
“They’re skin-tight too, since it makes you go faster in the water,” Mandy explained, a bright smile on her face. 
“Togs, and a project, thanks,” he smiled, trying his best to charm his way out of it all. 
She held out her hands, expecting a present from him and his heart stopped. 
“Me next!” she cheered. 
“You said we weren’t doing presents this year,” he said, feeling the eyes of her parents on him. 
“Pardon?” she questioned, her eyes dangerous. “So you know me well enough to cum in my mouth,”
He looked at her parents and shook his head as she continued. “But not well enough to get me a Christmas gift? Are you shitting me?”
“W-what-” he stuttered before getting up. “Y’know what,” he turned to her parents. “Thank you for the lovely dinner, happy Christmas,” he turned to her. “Maisie, don’t call me again!”
“Mandy,” she corrected, tears in her eyes. “It’s Mandy you asshole.”
“Great, Mandy, then,” he scoffed before starting to walk to the door, then he remembered the ugly christmas sweater he was wearing, and off it came. He threw it to Mandy, and walked out the door.  
Worst. Christmas. Ever. 
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You stand behind some British guy (who you swear you know from somewhere) in the sluggish queue of a random men's department store. 
Said British guy is busy fighting with the sales clerk to take his strange swimming togs back, and you’ve had enough of it. 
“Hey, Cockney, we’ve all been waiting for ages, some of us have jobs,” you scoffed. 
“I’m actually from Bristol,” he rolled his eyes. “And what makes you think I don’t have a job.”
“You’re in the mall on a Wednesday,” quickly, you brought the two pairs of pyjamas that don’t fit you to the front. “I’d like to return these.”
“Hey!” he scoffed. 
“Hey,” you smiled in return.
“I can only offer store credit,” the clerk smiled apologetically, and you sighed. 
“Seriously?” 
“Ha,” The Brit laughed. “That’s what you get.” 
“And sir, I can only offer you store credit as well.” 
“Ha!” you laughed. “That’s what you get.”
“I’ll give you 45 bucks for it all,” the girl behind you in line smiled at the both of you. “And this voucher for the pretzel stand.”
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You walked around the mall with the Brit, enjoying your pretzel. 
“So, how was your holiday season?” you asked, making polite conversation. 
“I spent my Christmas in an ugly Christmas sweater, a strange dinner, and being with people who I think might’ve been in a cult,” he nodded. 
“Well, I'll take your ugly sweater, and raise you a seat at the kids table, my little brother getting engaged, and my mother constantly asking me to date one of her many friends' sons,” you listed. “You sure you don’t want any?” you offered him some pretzel.
“Do you know what that does to your body?” he asked. 
“Oh,” you grimaced. “You’re one of those guys.” 
“What does that mean?” he scoffed. 
“It means you’re the kind of guy to take a billion vitamins a day and talks about your micros and macros,” you laughed. Then you caught sight of the guy your aunt brought to Christmas dinner. “Shit,” you cursed, hiding behind the Brit. 
“What?” he laughed. 
“You see the mall Santa over there?” you asked. He nodded. “That’s the guy my aunt brought home for Christmas dinner, hide me,” you begged, and he walked on with you behind him, hiding you. 
“Who is he anyway?” he asked. 
“Oh, it wasn’t serious,” you chuckled. “He was her Holidate.”
“Holidate?” he questioned. 
“It’s just a person you pick up to spend Christmas with,” you shrugged. “It’s dumb, I know.”
A light bulb went off in his head. “Just Christmas, or all holidays?”
“All of ‘em,” you nodded. “I mean, I guess it’s pretty genius when you actually think about it.”
“That’s exactly what I need for New Year’s, a Holidate!”
You chuckled. “Sorry, pretty sure my aunt is already booked up-”
“No, I’m serious, I am done casually dating on the holidays! I don’t want to do it anymore, it’s exhausting. I always end up being an asshole in some sort of way or-”
“Really? Try being the only single person left in your family, at the age of 24. My little brother, who's 21, by the way, is getting married,” you scoffed. “I mean every time I see them it is a fucking palaver of sad glances and exhausting small talk about one of their ‘friends’. Why is everyone so suspicious of a happy, single woman?” 
“Because it’s obvious you’re not happy,” he said like it was obvious. “Was that a trick question?”
You sighed. “I am happy, thank you very much.”
He chuckled. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Look, humans are meant to be with other people on the holidays, it’s just a fact! We all need warmth… companionship,” he could sense the fact that he was losing you. “And someone to drunk-mock people at parties with!”
“I do enjoy drunk-mocking people,” you pondered. 
“Perfect! We can be each other’s Holidate for New Year’s!” 
You chuckled, walking on. “Funny, I don’t even know you.” 
“That’s what makes it ideal! I don’t know you, you don’t know me! We aren’t expecting anything from each other, other than showing up to the date!”
“Sure…” you sighed. 
“And we’d never sleep with each other as well, it’s a win-win.”
You frowned, a quizzitive look on your face. “Why wouldn’t we sleep together?” He looked you up and down and grimaced. “Christ, calm down with the flattery asshole.”
“Not like that, it’s just you’re not my type,” he explained quickly. 
“Goodbye, or Cheerio, I guess. Since that’s what you say in Bristol,” you scoffed, walking off. 
“Come on, it’d be perfect! No more sad glances, no more kids' table seats. I have tickets to the Skyfall party, and I need a plus one,” he explained, following you. 
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged. 
“That’s such a good party,” you sighed, knowing for the years you’d gone to it before. 
“So say yes,” he smirked, knowing he was winning you over. “I just want to have a nice night and know that my date won’t go batshit if I don’t drop down on one knee at midnight with a ring with a quarter of a million pounds.”
“What makes you think I’m not batshit?” you smirked. 
He smiled. “You’re not.”
You smiled back. 
“I’m Lando, by the way.”
“Y/n.”
“Nice to meet you, Y/n, here is my number,” he smiled, handing you his business card. 
“Formula 1 driver and CEO,” you raised an eyebrow. “Do you drive for the orange team?”
“It’s papaya,” he rolled his eyes. “And yes, yes I do.” 
“Don’t girls like… throw themselves at you?”
He sighed. “Those are usually the batshit ones.”
You nodded. “Right.” 
“Just think about the party and text me,” he smiled. 
“I won’t be texting you, I’m more of a RedBull girl myself,” you smirked, walking off. 
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You sighed, thinking over the past new days. Your mom had tried (and failed) to get you to meet with her new neighbour, work was already beating you down, and you just needed some fun. Skyfall party it was. 
Lando, it was. 
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The party was already insane when you walked in, and you two fell into a steady rhythm of guessing peoples’ stories. 
“You look beautiful tonight,” he smiled. 
“Thanks,” you smiled. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Your tits look amazing in that dress,” he smiled, and chuckled when you smiled. “This is great! I can say whatever I want, and I don’t have to worry whether you think I’m a classy guy or not.” 
“I can wear a slutty dress without being slut-shamed, win-win,” you agreed. 
As the night progressed, you found yourself slightly (*very much) drunk and sitting, talking about your awful love lives, and your deep-rooted hatred for the film Dirty Dancing. 
“He’s such a dick to her the entire film, and she has absolutely no self-respect!” you argued.
“But isn’t it romantic or something-?”
“No! It's pathetic that she’s sold as this head-strong, interesting girl who falls for the first guy she sees at a goddamn summer camp for families, likes him the entire time even though he treats her like shit, then gets excited in the end when he finally gives her a chance, because he ‘grew to love her’. It’s bullshit!”
“So who ruined rom coms for you?” he asked. You shook your head. 
“We’re not going there,” you sighed, taking another sip of your drink. 
“I think we’re already here,” he smiled. “You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone.”
“Luc,” you answered. 
“Christ, he sounds like a wanker,” he giggled. 
“He wasn’t,” you sighed. “He was handsome, intelligent, French.”
Lando scoffed. “What happened?”
“We just… needed different things,” you explained. “I wanted someone to take home for the holidays, he wanted to fuck a barista. It was a super mutual break-up,” you laughed. Lando didn’t. 
“Shit,” Lando cursed. “Ouch.”
“Well, to be fair, he was too good-looking to be trustworthy,” you sighed. “My sister always says to date-down. Then you’ll never get hurt. I gotta piss, I’ll be right back,” you said, then off you went. 
Lando watched as you left, his heart a little heavier than before. 
In the bathroom, a bride-to-be (well, they were getting engaged tonight, one of the many people you and Lando had profiled) was sobbing over a dress and you had decided to be the good person and switch with her, taking her number so she could give the dress back after she got it dry cleaned. 
You came back in a white ruffled dress with a very large red wine stain on it. You sighed. “Don’t even.”
“Did you get stabbed?” he chuckled. “Or is Carrie in now?”
“Shut up Lando,” you scoffed, dragging him onto the dance floor. 
If Lando was a good charmer, he certainly was a good dancer. You two danced along to the fast-paced, pop songs, but then came the slow set at about 10:30. ‘(I’ve Had) The Time Of My Life’ started playing, the spotlight blaring down on you two as the chords played. Your face dropped and he giggled uncontrollably. 
“Nobody puts Baby in a corner,” he cheekily smirked, taking your hand. 
The dance floor cleared off, watching as you two somehow pulled off the jump, only for him to drop you, because he was giggling so hard. 
“Nobody drops Baby on her head,” you reminded him as you two sat out of the dancing, trying to substitute your bruised egos (and bodies) with alcohol. 
“I’m going to go take a piss,” he sighed, getting up. 
Perfect timing. The countdown started just as he left, and you were left to watch all the happy couples french-kiss their way into the new year. You sighed. Had it been your worst date ever? No. Would you call him again? Probably not. You watched as people all around kissed and held the people they loved the most and you couldn’t help but feel… without. Sure, you liked how easy and painless being single was, but it was also lonely. For the first time in a while, you let yourself just feel lonely. It sucked. 
Then, Lando came running back, an apology on his lips. 
“Happy New Year Lando,” you smiled, not as enthused as earlier, but it would do. 
“Happy New Year,” he nodded, still sorry about missing it. He awkwardly kissed your cheek and you just accepted it, hoping next year would be slightly (extremely) different. 
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You two rode in the back of a cab, you looked out the window at the city going by, the streets you knew so well and-
“Tonight was fun,” he admitted. “I had a good time.”
“Not the worst night of my life,” you agreed.
“So… what are your Valentine’s plans?” he questioned. 
“You mean the holiday that’s in two whole months?” you chuckled. He nodded. “I don’t know! I don’t have plans yet.”
“Great, let’s make some!” he smiled. You frowned. “Come on, after that I’ll be busy until the summer! Let’s just go to a movie or something.”
“A lot can happen in two months, Lando,” you explained. “And if I don’t meet the love of my life by then, I have a tradition of buying chocolate and eating it. Alone.”
“Sure,” he shrugged. “If you change your mind, I’m here.”
“You can stay here then,” you scoffed. The taxi pulled up outside your apartment block, and back to your apartment you went, exhausted from the night. Happy New Year to you. 
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“No Valentine’s day date? What?” Liz cried. Agreeing to go wedding planning with her was a bad choice, noted. You were stuck in a bright, flowery, overly-scented room shop of fabrics, designs, and glassware, all of the shit you never thought you’d have to care about. 
“I’m not dying,” you sighed. “It’s a random Thursday where chocolate is either cheap and good, or expensive and good. I’ll enjoy a bath, and go to bed early. Sounds perfect to me.”
“You should call mom’s neighbour!” Liz suggested. “What’s his name?”
“No,” you sighed. “I am not going out with someone that my mother sets me up with.”
“But what about the wedding? You can’t be single at the wedding,” Liz sighed. 
“You mean the wedding that’s 8 whole months away?” 
“Exactly! What will you do?”
“I am more than happy to be single, I don’t have to share a bathroom, a bed, or a kitchen with a man,” you argued, and Liz nodded, kind of agreeing with your philosophy (your brother was a gross dude). “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve some chocolate to buy.”
As you walked to the chocolate shop in the mall, you couldn’t help but think of Lando. Maybe he’d gone off with some model, or some actress. Maybe he was in Ibiza right now partying the night away with his other famous friends. Or maybe he was right outside the shop, watching you see your ex and his fiance for the first time since the break up. 
Fuck. 
You stood, watching the two of them canoodle in front of you in line, and your heart sank slightly. Great. A model. 
“Y/n?” Luc questioned, turning to you. 
“Luc,” you faked as much enthusiasm as possible, just to keep your voice from breaking. 
“How have you been?” he asked.
“Good,” you smiled, trying to sound sure of yourself. “What about you?”
“Busy,” he chuckled. “Oh, this is Nicola, my fiancé!” He introduced you to the gorgeous woman next to him. She was basically you, same hair, eye colour, build, but if you put the tiktok beauty filter on you, and turned it up to 100. 
“Fiancé?” you gawked, pretending to sound excited. 
“Nicola,” she smiled, holding out her hand to be shaken. You took it shaking it.
“Hey baby,” Lando smiled, wrapping an arm around you as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, joining in beside you. “You get the stuff for the party?”
Luc and Nicola’s faces dropped in shock. 
“Yeah, babe,” you played along. “This is Lando, my boyfriend,” you turned to the two of them, smiling. 
“You didn’t tell me your college friends were in town,” he smiled. “How’s clowning going?” 
You held back a laugh, realising you had told him the story of the couple you’d met in your 3 days of clown college. It wasn’t for you, hence not being able to call your sisters’ clown friend back about a second date. 
“Oh, we’re not clowns,” she chuckled, trying to play it off as a joke.
“Oh gosh!” Lando faked embarrassment quite well. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea-”
“No, that’s alright,” Luc stopped him. “It’s lovely to you Lando-”
“Yeah, well, we’d better run, big plans tonight,” Lando interrupted, paying for your chocolate and taking your hand. “We have a flight to catch.”
“Where are you going?” Nicola questioned, but you were already being pulled out of the shop.
“Holy shit that was awful!” you cursed. “Why is it that the new girlfriend has to be younger and hotter?” 
“Here, drink this to calm yourself,” he handed you his drink, and you took a sip. 
Green juice, gross. 
“God, I’m going to be sick,” you sighed, dramatically sitting on one of the mall benches. 
“Well, usually the younger the girl, the less chance of commitment being an issue,” he explained. “Men think like that, at least, I think they do.”
“But you don’t?” you snarkily raised an eyebrow. He chuckled. 
“I try not to,” he giggled. “And anyways, it’s kind of a compliment anyways.”
“You're right!” you cheered. “Nicola is a cry for help.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you drunk?”
“Maybe,” you sighed. “Those Guinness truffle things are pretty strong. You want one?”
“No, I'm alright, thanks.”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh yeah, you’re a professional athlete.”
“Don’t say it like it’s a joke,” he scoffed. “I am.”
“You’re just being a pussy,” you shrugged. “Real athletes enjoy chocolate. Ask Lewis Hamilton.” 
“I can if you want me to,” he smirked. 
“I trust that my favourite driver enjoys chocolate, thanks though.”
“Lewis is your favourite?” he scoffed, turning to you. 
“I’m hardly going for the fucking papayas,” you chuckled. 
“Anyways, if I wasn’t such a pussy, you would still be in a fucking sweet shop talking to your ex-boyfriend and his new fiancé,” he smirked. “You’re welcome.”
“Thank you,” you replied. “I owe you one.”
“I will take my hand job in the car park, thank you very much,” he chuckled, obviously laughing. 
“A hand job?” you scoffed. “What are we? 15?”
“You were giving out hand jobs at 15?” 
“Most of us weren’t 3 feet tall at age 15,” you teased. 
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As the months went on, you blew through St. Patrick’s day and Easter, finding out about Lando’s heartbreak along the way. His ex-girlfriend Luisha and him had broken up over the simple reason of his fans hating her more than life itself. As the F1 season began, you stayed busy with work while he travelled and drove, and every now and then you’d text each other about your days, or call to catch up. 
It was nice, having someone to talk to. Lando didn’t judge you the way your family or friends did. He liked you for you, and you tolerated him for him.
The night of Cinco De Mayo came around the corner, and you had invited Lando to come to a random bar and get fucked up together. He’d just won Miami the day before, and he was riding high. You two danced, drank, and sang the night away, eventually waking up in your apartment. 
Waking up in your aparmtent, in only your bra and his boxers. 
“Fuck,” you whispered, the bright light basically blinding you, as the hangiety and headache began.
“Morning,” his voice was groggy and deep. “I guess we…”
“No way,” you sighed, pushing yourself up off the floor- how did you get there? “There’s no way we would’ve… one of us would remember.” 
“You can’t tell? You’re wearing my boxers, Y/n,” he smiled. “If we did it’s fine, right? We’re both adults, we can move past it.”
You grabbed your own panites from the floor beside you, and quickly hid behind a tall chair to change. “There’s no dried patch on my thigh, no wrapper on the floor, nothing hurts, I don’t feel strange,” you listed. “Can’t you tell?”
“I just feel like shit,” he sighed.
“Right, so we didn’t do it,” you offered. 
“Let’s go with that,” he nodded, giving you a thumbs up. 
“Coffee?” you offered. 
“Yeah, please,” he groaned, closing his eyes again. 
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You two went through Mother’s Day (meeting his mom and pretending to be his girlfriend was terrifying, but you kept it together), and eventually you invited him to your yearly 4th of July party at your parents lake house, but he was too busy racing in Silverstone, so he invited you (and your family) to come to the race. 
You watched as he sped down the main straight, full of anticipation. Right now, Oscar was in the lead for the WDC and McLaren was leading the WCC as they continued winning race after race. Lando really wanted this one though, he had to win his home race. 
You’d really gotten into F1 in recent months, and you had started to actually enjoy the races, not just watch  them because Lando was driving. 
You watched as he sped down the main straight, rain pouring down, this was his final flying lap, the one that would put him over Oscar, up to pole position and-
He spun out. 
“Fuck!” you shouted, shocked at the scene in front of you. The session was red flagged and everyone went back into the pits. While you watched, on the edge of your seat, as he was carried out of the car and put into a medical car. 
You sprinted down to the garage, ready to see him. You couldn’t let him get hurt while you were there, that meant you were his bad luck charm or something. You couldn’t have that. You watched as he exited the medical car, right outside the McLaren garage, and you breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped out, looking mostly unharmed.
“Holy shit,” you whispered, taking his hand. “You’re alright after that?”
He shrugged. “Maybe? I have to go get checked-”
“You need someone to go to the hospital with you,” Will interrupted. “We’re going to stay back and work on the data, you have someone?” 
Lando looked at you with wide eyes. “Ummm-”
“He does,” you nodded. “I’ll come with you.”
He gave you an appreciative smile. 
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“The doctor will be in shortly,” Maisie, his very annoyed nurse smiled as the both of you tried desperately to hold in your laughter. 
“Thank you,” you smiled, and as she left the room you and him burst into laughter again. You weren’t even sure you knew what you were laughing about, but that was fine with the two of you. 
In came… you mom’s neighbour? 
“Faarouq?” you questioned. “You’re in England?”
“I volunteer here,” he explained. “Flew in to reconnect this guy's finger, and now I’m just staying a few extra days since they’re understaffed.”
“Oh,” you smiled. “That’s awesome.”
You hadn’t noticed it before, but he really was lovely. He was kind, he volunteered, he was a doctor. He was great. 
Lando watched as you and he chatted and he couldn’t help but feel himself deflate. He didn’t know why, but seeing you with him made him… something. He wasn’t sure. 
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No issues, all healthy, might experience some neck pain. Clean bill of health.  
You walked him up to his hotel room, his arm around your shoulder. You’d honestly had a brilliant day with Lando, the best 4th you’d ever had. 
You lay him down in his bed, handing him a glass of water. 
“Sorry for ruining your 4th,” he sighed. “You probably should’ve been with your family.”
You brushed it off. “Holidates should never leave a holidate behind,” you chuckled. “And anyways, it was a pretty fun day.” 
You put a hand on his shoulder, assuring him of your answer, and he put his hand over yours. You both felt it, looking at each other just a little bit too long for it to be platonic, but you quickly ended it, leaving as soon as you could.
He was a Holidate, nothing more. 
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“Our hands touched,” he told Max as they set out for a day of golfing. 
“Holy shit,” he gasped. “Did you use protection?”
Lando scoffed as Max laughed. 
“I’m telling you there was a… moment, or something,” he sighed. “I’m starting to really like her.”
“Oh shit, you’ve got to get out then,” Max turned serious. 
“W-what do you mean?”
“Mate,” he groaned. “You’re a fucking F1 driver who is trying to win a World Championship right now, do you think you’ll have all the time in the world to date someone?” “But… the weddings’ coming up- and it’s on labour day. Technically that’s a holiday.”
“You’re already in too deep, bring someone else,” Max instructed. 
“Max I can juggle two things at once-”
“Mate, you’ve worked your entire life for this, do not fuck it up for some girl!”
Lando saw the truth in what he was saying (even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear), and he sighed. “I guess you’re right. I’ll text her tonight.” 
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You walked into the wedding, a sour look on your face. You date, Farrouq (your mom’s neighbour) clung to your aunt all night while Lando’s date was some super model that made you want to run and hide. 
“Hi,” he smiled, coming up to you at the bar. 
“Hi.”
“Enjoying the wedding?” 
“Yup,” you nodded. “You?”
“Yeah, it’s great,” he agreed. 
“Your date seems nice,” you mentioned. 
“She left a little while ago,” he admitted. 
“Oh shit, sorry,” you cursed. “I genuinely meant it. I didn’t see her leave-”
“Yeah, it’s alright,” he shook his head. “No harm done.”
You took a sip of your drink and looked behind you to see your aunt tounging your date, and you sighed. “Any plans for halloween?”
“I’m working on it,” he agreed. Holidates once again. 
Max would murder him. He didn’t feel too guilty about it. 
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Halloween rolled around and Lando put you in a fucking pirates costume with a very tight corset, but you understood that’s what you get when you put a dude in charge of costumes. You sat with your sister at the bar, waiting for Lando to catch your eye when you felt hands around your waist. 
“Ahoy mate,” he whispered, giggling.
“Fuck!” you jumped. “You scared me!”
He laughed, then stopped when he actually looked at you. “The costume looks… amazing,” he smiled, starstruck. 
“Thanks I feel like a total slut,” you joked. 
“Well you look like one too,” Abby added. “Go get a drink or something,” you scoffed, shooing her off. You turned to Lando. “What’s the plan for tonight?” 
“Get fucked up?”
“Sounds perfect!” you smiled, then took a swig of your beer. The night went off with some dancing, some chocolate, and then in came Luc with a very pregnant Nicola. 
Pregnant. Pregnant. She was fucking pregnant. You stood there in stunned silence as everyone caught up, shocked at the fact that she was pregnant. 
“Holy fuck! She’s pregnant, pregnant!” you complained as you walked through the party, feeling increasingly sick. 
“Come on, you just need a drink,” Abby scoffed, handing you some punch. 
Your stomach turned. “No, no, I’m really sick,” you shook your head, bracing yourself against the table. 
“Are you alright?” Lando asked, holding your waist. 
“No,” you leaned into him. “Not at all.”
“Should I bring you home?” he offered. 
“I’ll just get a cab, I’m alright-”
“Holidate rule number three, never leave a date behind,” he reminded you, so you let him get in the cab with you. 
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It hurt. It hurt so bad. Mixing alcohol with red dye 40 and about 50 mini candy bars was not a good idea. You whined as Lando had to physically pick you up and carry you to the lift of your aparmtnt, 
“Wait, she’s due next week right?” you did the maths in your head. “They did it on Valentine’s day!” you sobbed. 
“Everyone does it on Valentine’s day,” he reasoned. 
“I didn’t!” you screamed. 
He thought back. “Hey! I didn’t either!” 
Then the lift dinged and he dragged you in, listening as you spiralled. 
Then that awful noise. Then the awful feeling. 
“Untie me,” you said, your voice low, sober.  
“Huh?” 
“Untie me,” you instructed, gasping at the strings of your corset. 
“What- how the fuck do you untie this?” he asked, gripping at the strings. 
“I don’t know! Just untie it!” you shouted. 
“I can’t, it’s like-”
“Rip it Lando, fucking rip it!” you shouted. 
“I’m trying, it’s-”
The elevator dinged and behind the doors an old couple appeared, looking less than impressed. You realised how bad it looked, but truly, it was much worse than what they were thinking. They closed again, and up another floor they went. 
You needed to get to a toilet, now. 
You both ran to your door, him ripping off your corset at the last moment before you shut the bathroom door, and thankfully you made it, but not without sobbing crying on the toilet. Fuck your sister and her accidentally giving you laxatives. 
You sat in your bath as he held the shower head to your back. 
“Don’t even look at me,” you sighed. 
“I’m not,” he said, and he wasn’t. He was trying his absolute hardest not to look at you. Even though you’d almost actually shit yourself, even though he’d heard you sobbing crying, somehow, you were still the most gorgeous person he’d ever seen, and as much as he wanted to he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He looked back at you and smiled, when he was sure you weren’t looking. Something in his heart leaped, and he knew he should’ve been weary, but he almost didn’t care. 
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You sat in bed as he brought you a glass of water and you sighed. “So… I guess I’ll be a story you tell at parties now? Half of Monaco will know me as the girl who-”
“The girl who shit her pants on Halloween?” 
You groaned. “Fuck off.”
He chuckled. “I meant it when I said I’d seen worse, and don’t worry, I won't tell anyone. Promise.” 
You turned back around to face him and smiled. “Thank you.”
He offered you a soft smile, and you both fell asleep like that. 
Waking up? That was a different story. You gently opened your eyes to see a very asleep Lando. His eyes scrunched up, an arm around you, his face closer to yours than it had ever been, and you smiled. The way his nose scrunched up, the moles on his face, his long eyelashes, I mean… you knew he was gorgeous before but up close? It was practically unfair. 
Then his eyes fluttered open, and he moved his arm back, staring at you the same way you were staring at him. Again, another moment. His eyes on you, having him so close. It all drove you crazy. 
He didn’t feel much different. He was tired of this charade, pretending he wasn’t head over heels in love with you. Like he didn’t clear his schedule the second you’d asked him if he was free on Halloween. Then he moved closer, as if he was going to kiss you. He knew you wanted it too-
You covered your mouth with the covers. “I hate it when people kiss in the morning in movies, I think it’s disgusting,” you chuckled.
He laughed. God, you were adorable. He smiled at you for a moment, then moved your hand down, looking to you for approval. You nodded, and he kissed you. 
And it was everything you’d ever wanted in a kiss. The sparks flying, the silent feelings, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. Lando made you feel like that. He made you feel… amazing. And it was everything he’d ever wanted in a kiss too. 
౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊
You resurfaced after your soft morning sex and stood in the kitchen, both of you a little bit sweaty and tired. 
“We should probably-”
“You can go, if you want,” you offered, hoping you hadn’t said the wrong thing. Lando was a famous, rich guy, he probably had casual sex all the time. You didn’t want to be one of those crazy girls that thinks that sex ties you to a person (even thought it was more than just sex to you), so you have to let him go, right? 
He looked like a deer in headlights. “Do you want me to leave?”
“I mean, I don’t mind. I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay or anything-”
“Obligated?” he questioned. 
“Well, Halloween is over, right? Holidate ending? See you at Thanksgiving?” you joked. 
His heart broke slightly. “Right.” 
Then the doorbell rang. 
You ran over, opening it as quickly as you could, only to reveal your sister, absolutely trashed. Lando stood against the counter, sighing. How could he let himself fuck this up too? You were amazing. You were the best thing that had happened to him all year. It was ridiculous how much he looked forward to your calls and texts, how often he checked his phone just to see the ‘group photo’ of you, him, Max, and your family that he’d taken at the wedding. You, with his arms around you. Even if you two were fighting that week, you still chose to stand beside him in the photo, and let him hold you. That meant more to him than anything. He groaned, hitting his head against a cabinet. How did he fuck it all up?
“I kissed the black panther!” Abby sobbed. “I kissed the guy, at the party, dressed as the black panther!” 
“W-what?” you scoffed, holding her as she cried, sending a ‘help me’ look Lando’s way. 
“I am a terrible person!” she screamed into a pillow sobbing. 
“Morning Abby,” Lando smiled. She stopped crying and turned her attention to him. 
“Morning Land… holy shit you two had sex!” 
“We did not!” you argued. 
“We didn't?” Lando asked, his voice quieter than usual. He put down his coffee mug. 
“Oh…” Abby sighed. “I should- I should go.”
“NO! No, you- you stay! I’ll make some breakfast-” you pleaded, grabbing her hand.
“It’s alright Abby, you stay, I’ll go,” Lando nodded, grabbing the last bits of his costume. “Okay?” he looked to you, hoping against hope that you’d ask him to stay. You didn’t. “Okay.”
“Bye! See you at Thanksgiving!” 
The look he gave you as he was leaving told you he wouldn’t call you again. 
How did you always fuck everything up?
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“Mate, she shoved me out the door,” Lando sighed, doing anything but looking over the data.
Will sighed. “She didn’t even want a cuddle?”
“Nothing! We had half a cup of coffee in blissful silence, then she kicked me out!” he groaned. “Ugh! Why is dating so hard!”
Will chuckled. “It’s alright mate, there’s plenty of other fish in the sea-”
“But they’re not Y/n! I want Y/n. I want my Y/n,” he whined. “Y’know what the last thing she said to me was? ‘See you at Thanksgiving’, like it didn’t even mean anything to her. Like I was fucking meaningless.”
“At least you’ve still got her as a Holidate-”
“I cannot do that anymore,” he admitted. “I can’t just… pretend to be in love with her when I actually am.” 
“No, mate, you’ve got to keep going with it. You just act like nothing has changed and she’ll come crawling back. It’s a foolproof idea!” ౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊
God, you hated Thanksgiving. Your mother couldn’t cook, your sister was busy asking you about that guy she kissed at the party, and Lando was nowhere to be seen. As you opened the front door ready to run to the supermarket and buy an entire Thanksgiving feast, you were met with the face of Lando Norris. 
“Hi,” he smiled sadly. 
“Hi,” you smiled. “I have to run to the store so you can…”
“Great,” he nodded. “I’ll drive.” 
You had realised that in the 11 months you’d known each other, you hadn’t ever driven with him. “Not too fast, not all of us have the neck of an F1 driver,” you teased, hoping to lighten the mood. He just nodded with a reserved smile on his face. Challenge failed. 
You sat in the car as he drove (definitely over the speed limit), awkwardly wondering what to say. 
“How have you been?” he asked, his hands gripping the wheel. 
“Good, busy,” you explained. “You?” “Good. Busy,” he answered, his hands gripping the wheel even harder. You were both silent for a moment. “Are we seriously just going to pretend it never happened?”
“That works for me,” you nodded, thinking that’s what he really wanted. 
“Well, for the record, I wasn’t the one who wanted to leave that morning,” he sighed. 
“It’s not like you were asking to stay, plus, you didn’t even want to have sex with me in the first place. You’re not attracted to me, remember?” 
“Why can’t you let that go?”
“Because when a guy opens with the fact that he doesn’t find you attractive, it kind of sets the tone for the relationship-” 
“I was some random guy at the mall, what would you have said if I opened with ‘hi I think you’re insanely beautiful’?!”
You both paused for a second. 
“Y/n, come on. Everything about you is beautiful. Your smile, your personality, your humour. You would’ve never gone out with me, definitely not on New Year’s.”
You were both quiet again. 
“Does that change anything for you?” he looked at you, eyes pleading. You had to make a choice. 
“No.”Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes. Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.
Why did you have to be so good at protecting yourself? 
“Fucking hell- you’re trying so hard not to feel anything because you’re scared of getting hurt, so you’re lying to the both of us-”
“Maybe I just don’t feel the same, Lando. Not every girl will fall at your fucking feet,” you scoffed. 
“Fine. Enjoy the rest of your holidays, alone, at the kids table, blaming everyone but yourself for your problems.” 
౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊
How did you fuck it up so badly? You walked back in. 
“Where’s Lando?” Abby asked. 
“Don’t know, don’t care.” 
“What? What did you do?” Your brother asked. 
“What makes you think it was my fault?” you scoffed. 
“You should call him, he’s a good guy,” Abby added. “You should just call and apologise.”
“Why do you think it was my fault?” 
“Well if you were honest with him we could probably get through one holiday without your personal life ruining dinner for everyone,” your mother sighed. 
“My personal life?” you scoffed. 
“Is a mess,” Abby interjected. 
“Ok, my personal life might be a perpetual mess but at least I didn’t kiss some randomer at Halloween!” you argued. 
“You fucking bitch,” she cursed.
A chorus of ‘who’, ‘what’ and ‘how’ quickly fell upon the room, until it was all drowned out by Peter, her husband. 
“You kissed someone else?”
You clapped a hand over your mouth. “I am so sorry I thought you’d told him-”
“I saw no tongue,” York, your brother added.
“You saw and didn’t tell me?” Liz questioned. 
“You can’t keep a secret,” he shrugged. 
“How would you know that, you know nothing about me!” she scoffed, getting up. 
“I trusted you!” Peter cried. “You went alone, I-I thought I could trust you-”
“I go everywhere without, a-and you never have any time for me because you’re always stressing about the kids-”
“One of us has to!” he shouted. 
Then your aunt’s date had a literal heart attack, and you were all stuck in silence as the ambulance rolled away with him inside. He would be fine, but you and your aunt went with him (not by choice) just for good measure. He was fine in the end and your aunt even met the love of her life at the hospital. 
Shittiest Thanksgiving ever. 
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As Christmas rolled around and you watched the F1 season come to a close, you watched as Lando finished second in the standings, just behind Oscar. You missed him. You missed texting and calling him, you missed watching him crack bad jokes and laugh until his stomach hurt, you missed his fluffy hair and pretty face. 
You missed it all. The worst part was that he was right. You were just too afraid of being in love and putting your heart on the line, that you messed up the best thing that had ever happened to you. 
౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊
He walked through the same mall that he’d met you in a full year ago, and he sighed. He was empty, alone in Chicago once again, and he was done. Another chance at a WDC that he pissed away, and he was really starting to wonder if he truly had a place in the sport. Then he thought back to you, the way you liked him even without his race suit, without his money, without everything everyone else liked him for. You. He chuckled, he was probably just another Holidate to you, someone you wouldn’t even think about. 
Then he saw you as the escalators passed, and the way you looked at him gave him a glimmer of hope that he was wrong, that you did care. But you were gone in a flash and he knew he should just let it die. 
“There he was!” Abby squealed. “Go talk to him!”
“I can't, I'd just… it wouldn’t work. He hates me!” 
“Y/n, life is giving you a moment right now, take it!” 
And that’s how you ended up with a microphone in hand in the middle of a mall desperately trying to get the love of your life back. 
Thankfully, he said yes. And yes, it was videoed and put on the internet hundreds of times, too bad he’s a public figure. 
But that didn’t matter. You two were happy. 
‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡
a very f1 christmas! masterlist (2024)
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joelslastofus · 12 days ago
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[SUMMARY: Joel and you have broken up towards the end of your pregnancy until Sarah convinces you to come to Tommy’s annual Christmas party.]
A Christmas baby
“I’m not arguing with you like this god dammit, I ain’t trynna upset you”
Fluff jealousy childbirth angst
“Please come tonight, I really want to see you” Sarah spoke on the other end of the phone. You sighed brushing your hand over your nine month belly, the last thing you wanted to do was attend Tommy’s annual Christmas party.
You knew how much Sarah cared for you and how much she wanted you to be there but after having broken up with Joel just two months prior, it felt strange.
“My dad misses you” she spoke softly.
“I don’t know Sarah, there’s a lot-“
“Please just think about it, it’s Christmas. Pretty please with a cherry on top?”
How were you suppose to resist? Besides Tommy inviting most of the neighbors and having nosey eyes on you, it couldn’t be that bad…right?
Since breaking up with Joel, you had seen him twice. You remembered coming out of your OB appointment and Joel sitting at the bottom step outside waiting for you. You hadn’t expected to see him there, especially being that he never made it to any appointments, constantly over booking himself at work. You remembered the arguments the two of you would have, sometimes you felt he overbooked himself on purpose to not deal with anything that had to do with the baby.
Maybe he had cold feet you thought, whatever it was it didn’t go well mixed with your hormones, your sensitivity at an all time high.
When you moved in with your sister Abby, Joel constantly called her to make sure you were ok. Every night you’d hear your sister on the phone repeating the same things over and over.
“She’s ok”
“I swear I’ll call you if anything”
“No shes not lifting anything heavy, Joel”
Sometimes you couldn’t help but crack a smile, Joel was always invested in making sure you had everything you needed but what you wanted more was his time.
Pulling up in front Joel’s house you could see the guests from the front window. A part of you second guessing what you were doing there, almost tempted to turn back. Then there it was again, a slow pain that kept coming and going from your lower back. This must be what Braxton hicks contraction’s were as the doctor had explained a week piror.
“You made it!” You suddenly heard from outside your car. One of the neighbors, Tilly spotted you just as she was about to go inside with her older brother Jim. Jim was a good friend of Tommy’s, Joel never seemed to be a fan of his, you never knew why.
“Guess I can’t escape now” you whispered to yourself before opening your car door.
“Here, let me give you a hand” Jim gave you his arm as you stepped out the car.
“You look amazing” Jim uttered low as you grabbed onto him. Not expecting his compliment you smiled.
“Thanks”
“That red dress looks great on you” Tilly exclaimed.
“Joel’s gonna be so happy to see you” she chuckled.
Anxiously walking to the front door, you stopped at the steps to adjust your dress.
“Don’t worry Jim won’t let you fall” Tilly whispered, excitement in her voice for her favorite day of the year. Just as you began to walk up the steps the front door opened, to your surprise Joel stepped out. Caught off guard he stopped in his tracks at the sight of you, not expecting you to show up, much less holding onto Jim. You watched his eyes immediately turn to him, a stern look he couldn’t hide until Tilly’s high pitched voice distracted him.
“Joel! So good to see you!” He looked to her and gave her a nod, you could still see the disapproval he felt.
“Tommy’s makin’ drinks, ya got here just in time”
“Shit, you don’t have to tell me twice” Jim made his way up the stairs with you before you thanked him and held your hands together awkwardly. Taking a quick glance at Joel you noticed him looking at you but you didn’t say a word, neither did he, until you were alone.
“I’ve been callin’ you” he stood against the door, cheers and laughter could be heard in the background.
“Abby told me” you spoke softly. His tongue sliding against his inner cheek, there was so much more he wanted to say, you could see it.
“How have you been feelin’?
His question making you finally look up directly at him. He wore a red and black flannel shirt, the one he knew you loved.
“Um-it’s getting harder to walk in certain shoes now” you chuckled showing off that you wore flip flops with your dress. Joel smiled, something he hadn’t done much of since you left.
“Oh my gosh you came!” Sarah’s voice made you both turn her way.
“Hey Sarah,” you smiled.
“Oh my- that red dress is so cute on your baby bump” she grinned with excitement.
“Thank you” you smiled brushing your hand over your bump making Joel’s eyes soften as he looked at you.
“Oh uh- I’m sorry for interrupting dad. I just-“
“Don’t worry, honey. I’m glad to see you excited” he assured her.
“Well, if you guys don’t mind I really need to use the restroom. I’m going every ten minutes now” you laughed before quickly and awkwardly excusing yourself to the back.
Coming out of the bathroom you gave Sarah your sweater and purse as you looked around the room to all the guests there, you honestly didn’t know where to put yourself.
“Look at you, I’m glad you showed up!” Tommy approached you with a Santa hat and beer in hand.
“How are you feelin’?” Tommy asked as Joel appeared beside him.
“Well my ankles are killing me, my back feels on fire, she’s constantly kicking me“ you chuckled.
“but other than that I’m fine” you sighed.
“Aw she’s just excited to meet her uncle” Tommy laughed as he leaned towards your belly.
“Ain’t that right lil’ niece?”
“Tommy” Joel uttered giving him a side eye.
“What? Just a few more weeks till we meet, I’m excited” he took a sip from his beer before being pulled away to dance. Joel and you stood beside each other, his arms crossed as he laughed at his brother before looking over at you.
“How about we get you a seat,”
“Um, it’s fine, I’d rather stay here plus all the seats are taken”
“So, I’ll get somebody up” Joel looked back at the full room quickly eyeing who he’d get the seat from.
“No, no it’s fine” as much as your ankles hurt, you’d rather have stayed away from everyone asking you dozens of questions.
“You wanna lay down in our room for a bit?” His question catching you off guard.
Our room.
“Thanks, Joel. I’ll be fine. I’ll just take some water though, I am thirsty”
He nodded, his eyes remained on you longer than he meant to, drifting down to your dress laying perfectly over your baby bump.
“You look beautiful by the way”
Your heart skipping a beat from his words, you looked over at him.
“Thank you” you whispered before he walked into the kitchen.
Soon you noticed Mary and Lisa heading your way, two of the most nosiest neighbors you had dying to ask questions the moment you walked in. Those two women never seemed to know when to stop talking. Quickly turning towards the kitchen you walked off doing your best to avoid them when you heard a woman laughing in the kitchen. Silently stopping at the doorway you saw Maria with Joel, she was known for many things with men around the area, especially married men. Her hand on Joel’s shoulder as he held your glass of water in hand, you felt a jealousy you had never felt before.
“If it wasn’t for you driving me home that night, who knows where I would’ve ended up” she laughed as your heart sunk. It couldn’t be, Joel spent a night with Maria? Although you and Joel weren’t together, it was crushing to hear.
“Maybe you can drive me home tonight again…?” She spoke with a flirtatious voice as her hand creeped to back of his neck when you accidentally knocked something down beside you. Both of them quickly looking up, Joel realized you had heard everything but before he could say a word you quickly walked out rushing to grab your belongings from down the hall. Joel quickly put the glass down and pushed past Maria following you out as your heart raced with disbelief and hurt.
“Sarah where’s my stuff?” Your voice cracked as she looked up at you confused.
“In the room, are you okay?” You couldn’t respond rushing toward the bedroom as Joel quickly followed behind calling your name.
“It ain’t what you think-“ Joel appeared at the doorway slightly out of breath as you grabbed your sweater.
“Hey, hey-listen to me, baby” he rushed towards you trying to get you to understand him, desperation in his eyes, his hand attempted to grab your face.
“Don’t!” You screamed, tears building up in your eyes.
“The neighborhood whore huh?”
“No, dammit, listen to me!”
“No, you would-“ you suddenly stopped speaking as a sharp cramping like sensation took over you. Leaning forward you winced grabbing your belly, Joels expression instantly changing.
“What? What’s wrong?” He whispered, his hand reaching for your belly just as the wave of pain passed.
“Don’t” you shoved his hand away and took a deep breath. Getting yourself together you put your sweater on and grabbed your purse. Trying to walk past him he blocked your way, a look of concern he couldn’t hide if he tried.
“I’m not lettin’ you leave like this”
“Like hell you’re not!” You screamed, the music and the guests so loud nobody could hear you arguing.
“You can go continue your fun-“
“I’m not arguing with you like this god dammit, I ain’t trynna upset you”
“Too late for that” you aggressively put on your sweater.
“I didn’t do nothin’ with her! She was with Tommy, he passed out drunk in the car I was the only sober one so I drove. She got out the car went home and that was it, nothin’ happened between me and her”
“I don’t believe you” you shook your head as a tear fell from your eyes. You attempted to push past him but he wouldn’t budge.
“I ain’t lettin’ you drive like this-“
“What the hell do you care?! Go talk with Maria since obviously you have time for her but not our baby-“
“You know damn well that’s not true” he grabbed your wrists stopping you from pushing him aside.
“Let go of me!” You pulled your arms back just as another wave of pain took over. Quickly turning away you leaned against the wall.
“Ow-“ you cried out. The pain more intense than you had been feeling earlier.
Joel quickly coming behind you making sure you were okay, his hands on your waist.
“Come sit down”
“No, no…it’ll go away like it did earlier” you whispered in between breaths.
“What do you mean earlier?”
You stood silent as you slowly turned to him.
“What do you mean earlier?” He repeated himself sternly.
“It’s Braxton hicks, I had felt them last week and the doctor told me it was normal. I’m not dilated-“
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“There was nothing to tell!” You winced again from yet another wave of pain.
“I don’t think these are Braxton hicks, you’re getting them to close together, you’re having contractions“
“No I am not. Just leave me alone” you squeezed your eyes shut unable to speak.
“Stop being so damn stubborn, we’re gettin’ you to a hospital”
“No!” You whispered with a gasp just as Sarah ran in.
“Oh my god-“
“Sarah, tell uncle Tommy we’re goin’ to the hospital” he called out to her.
“Is she-“
“Yes” his voice somehow calm as he had you hold onto him.
“Oh my g- it’s getting worse” you whimpered.
“I know, honey. We’re gonna get in the truck now” he caressed your face.
“Is this actually happening right now” you whispered to yourself.
“I think so, baby”
Tommy ran to the truck with his Santa hat still on, opening the doors for you and Joel as the guests all watched on in shock.
“I don’t have my bag! My bag, Joel!”
“I’ll tell your sister to bring it” he buckled your seatbelt and closed the door rushing to the other side. Everyone watched as Joel sped off, each contraction becoming more intense you screamed in agony as Joel kept beeping the horn. If you weren’t so distracted with the pain you felt you would’ve seen how desperate Joel became with each sound you made.
“We’re here, baby. We’re here” the tires screeched as he made a hard turn into the lot.
Everything happened so fast, next thing you knew you were on the hospital bed being instructed to push. Joel holding your leg up, you cried feeling as if you couldn’t get through this.
“I can’t-“ you shook your head as Joel stood beside you, gently turning your head to face him.
“Look at me, yes you can. I’m right here and I ain’t goin’ no where, count with me” Joel began to instruct you with breathing and counting as the doctor prepped for the arrival of your baby.
After all the pain and chaos that occurred, it was all worth it. After the end of it all, you had fallen asleep and awoke to Joel humming Silent Night. Still feeling weak, you turned to see him looking out the window as it snowed. You smiled just as he turned and caught your eyes on him.
“I think she likes this song” he whispered making you laugh.
“You read the book” you spoke softly as he looked at you confused.
“The book I gave you about dads during birth”
He smiled with a nod.
“How else would I had known how to help you breathe through all that pushin’” turns out he listened much more than you thought he did.
“Mhm” your eyes began to uncontrollably close, you were exhausted.
“Get your rest, baby. I got her” without a word you quickly fell back to sleep as Joel looked down at his daughter with tearful eyes.
“The best Christmas gift I’ve ever been given” he kissed her forehead and continued humming the song..
Tags
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@ashleyfilm @justajoelsreader @ashleyfilm
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space-cowgirllll · 4 months ago
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Right Where You Left Me
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a/n: I was going to wait to post this but I had written a lot more than I thought the last time I touched this. A little lengthy bc I’m a yapper but here's part two of Tolerate It. I'M SORRYYYYY 🥹
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The flurries Abby had seen as she walked into work this morning quickly turned into actual snowfall. Twelve hours later, everything around her is covered in a thick blanket of white snow. Traffic had been worse than usual, making her already shitty commute twice as long. A breath she hadn't realized she was holding leaves her when she finally pulls up to the curb in front of her home. She's safe. Forcing her frozen fingers to uncurl from the death grip she had on the steering wheel, she parks the car, cursing when she feels it slide just a little. She was due for a tropical vacation soon. 
Despite her disdain for the snow, Abby can admit the quaint neighborhood looks beautiful. Thousands of multicolored lights adorn the houses and yards around her. Laughter from the kids having a snowball fight across the street fills the night air. Their giggles make Abby's heart feel a little lighter. A couple of her neighbors have their curtains drawn, displaying their immaculately decorated trees. It reminds her of those cheesy hallmark movies she secretly loves watching. 
Abby cringes when she realizes her house is the only dark one on the street. In her mind she can see the purple Post-It still stuck to the fridge reminding her to pull the outdoor decor down from the attic and actually decorate. The red plastic tubs have been sitting at the top of the steps for weeks. She trips over them constantly, telling herself she'll get to them tomorrow, but it seems there were just never enough hours in the day. Eighty hour work weeks left little room for anything else- not that she had much going on. If she wasn't at the gym, or catching up on some much needed sleep, she was at the hospital. 
Her head hits the steering wheel in defeat when she taps the screen on her phone and catches sight of the date. It's the twentieth of December.  
"Too late to do anything about it now." She mumbles to herself. Her palms dig into her tired eyes. Today was truly the day from hell.
But the universe doesn't seem to be quite done with her just yet. Over the hum of her ac blowing she hears a familiar tune. Her head snaps to the radio in recognition. Her usual radio station has switched over to playing nothing but Christmas music for the night. It's your favorite song. Shit. Her shaky index finger blindly reaches for the button to kill the engine before throwing the door open, jacket forgotten in the passenger seat. 
She shivers as she speed walks to her front door trying her hardest not to slip on the icy sidewalk. The straps of her work bags dig painfully into her right shoulder when she bends down to collect the multiple packages that had accumulated on her porch. After days of ignoring them, they were starting to block the doorway. But hey, at least this year she had gotten ahead on Christmas shopping. 
These days it was all about the small wins. —
Abby drops the mattress she dragged out of the guest room in front of the fireplace with soft grunt. She hasn't done this in years, but she needs it today. This had been one of your favorite ways to unwind after a long week. Always there waiting for her with a big smile and her favorite snacks, a movie waiting to be played on the tv. In the later months of the year, around the holidays, Abby could always count on finding a pair of pajamas for her that matched yours laid out on your shared bed. She had always thought it was kind of silly when you had a perfectly good bed and tv upstairs. Now, she could only dream of coming home after a long day to a warm house and you bundled up in blankets waiting up for her.
It's quiet as she stares out the window watching snow fall. Her head is fuzzy from the wine and she knows she's going to regret it tomorrow. The movie she randomly picked half an hour ago is now muted. She can hear the distant buzzing of her personal phone from somewhere in the kitchen, but she can't be bothered. Calls from her family trying to confirm next weeks plans go ignored. Abby loves them, but the thought of being asked if she was ready to start dating again before trying to set her up with the friend of a friend for the fifth year in a row made her want to cancel her flight home. She can't stand the pity in their eyes every time they look at her.
Bleary eyes roam around the room, the sight of  the unlit, half-decorated tree in the corner and the lone stocking missing its pair hanging off the mantle make her chest hurt in a way it hadn't in a while. It may not look like it, but she had tried. Most of the Christmas stuff actually made it out of the attic this year. Which is more than she can say for last year, and the years before that.  She'd finally gotten the tree out and decorating had been going well, until she pulled out that ornament. 
The little house you had custom made to look like a tiny replica of the first place the two of you were sharing as a married couple. Abby remembers how excited you'd been, staying up waiting for her to come home from a late night so you could open it together. The look in your eyes as you traced over the details, the names stamped on the back. You made her hold it as you hooked it onto the tree, wanting to do it together.
Her fingers trace over the pink floral pattern on the sheets. You'd picked these out, excited to host her parents over the thanksgiving holiday for the fist time. Abby didn't have the heart to change them out. Minus your personal things, she didn't have the heart to make any changes to your original decor. You'd made the house a home. Some nights she swears she can catch a whiff of your favorite candle, or the lavender spray you'd douse the pillows with before going to bed. 
Abby gives up, shutting the tv off and settling into her pillow, ready for today to be over. She can't help but feel silly laying here in the dark by herself. Nights like this had been more fun with you around. Everything in her life had been more fun with you around. 
You made Abby's life magical, she just hadn't realized it until it was too late.  ---------------------------
Abby watches you push your food around your plate out of the corner of her eye. The scraping of the fork makes it hard to focus on the conversation happening in front of her. Would it kill you to at least try to look interested? Her hand lands on your upper thigh, squeezing lightly to get your attention. The two of you exchange subtle glares. 
It isn't until her colleagues retreat back to their own table that she finally looks at you. You're swirling the ice in your drink around with a straw. Your gaze fixed on the window, staring out at the busy street. She had thought a nice dinner at your favorite restaurant would soften you up a little, but with how little you've spoken all night and your plate still full, she's starting to worry. 
After an explosive fight the morning after she'd forgotten your wedding anniversary, you'd been distant. In all the years Abby had known you, she could count on one hand the amount of times you'd fought, and even then the two of you could never stay away for long. Communication was one of the things you prided yourself on the most, never wanting to go to bed angry at each other. But it's been three weeks and Abby realizes she's really fucked up. 
"Alright, what's going on with you?" 
"Oh, now you notice." You retort. Her eyebrows knit together, surprised at the thinly veiled anger in your voice. 
"You're so dramatic." She huffs. "What's that supposed to mean?" 
Your eyes shift to the side, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. She can practically see the gears turning in your head. You're holding your tongue. 
"Abigail, let's not do this right now." You beg. "Please."
"No. We're going to talk now." She speaks lowly, grateful for the little privacy the corner table provided. "Sitting in silence isn't going to make this go away. Stop being childish and tell me how to fix this." 
You looked her in the eye, no longer seeing the person you fell in love with. Knowing that if you stayed you'd end up losing yourself in someone who couldn't love you the way you deserved anymore. There was no way you could have the family you wanted with someone who constantly prioritized their work, making you feel like you were the distraction. 
Your lips part on a shaky exhale. You can't keep lying awake at night contemplating this. You have to do it now. From the corner of your eye you can see the couple at the table closest to you subtly lean towards you. 
Abby leans back in her seat waiting for you to speak up. Her arms folded across her chest. The way her leg bounces up and down gently shakes the table. Something about the dejected look in your eyes makes her panic inside. 
"I want a divorce."
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Department store wrapping stations were a small luxury Abby didn't mind spending the money on. She wasn't the best gift wrapper, often leaving rips or weird folds on anything that wasn't shaped like a box. 
She stands in line with all the other last minute shoppers, people watching when her eyes fall on the last person she thought she'd ever see again. Abby swears she must be dreaming. Her knees nearly buckle when she sees you standing there slowly making your way through a rack of baby clothes. A little boy no younger than two perched on your hip, his leg trying to sit comfortably against the small swell of your stomach. He's a carbon copy of his mother. Abby sees you wherever her eyes land on his face. 
Your hair is longer, framing your pretty face. There's a glow to you that she doesn't remember seeing in those last two years of your marriage. Your eyes are tired but bright, even from here Abby can see the way they sparkle when you stare at the little boy in your arms. Nothing like the cold way you'd looked at her that fateful night. 
Her heartbeat pounds in her ears as she steps out of line, making her way to a more secluded section of the store. Hiding behind a tie display she watches you interact with your son. For a moment she pretends that you're still hers and that the last five years didn't happen. Pretends that she didn't fuck up the best thing that had ever happened to her. God, she feels like a delusional creep. 
A tall woman walks up behind you, making a silly face at your toddler. You smile when he reaches out for her, trading the boy for the to-go cup she was holding out to you. Abby doesn't have to guess what you're drinking. She knew how much you hated coffee, preferring hot chocolate to keep you warm in the colder months. Her stomach bottoms out when you raise the cup to your lips.
A ring that isn't hers sits on your finger. 
Abby didn't realize how big of a gut punch that would feel like. While you still spoke to her parents from time to time, they made sure not to relay any information to her. She knew you wouldn't stay single forever, but actually seeing you like this ripped apart whatever was left of her heart.
You'd gone silent on social media since the split. A new and private Instagram account was all she could find one night after she'd been drinking a little too much. She'd cried herself to sleep, wanting nothing more than to be a part of your world again. 
She studies your wife, who's everything Abby isn't. Her long brown hair is pulled back in a loose bun, the pink knit beanie on her head matches the scarf currently wrapped around your neck. Dark eyes watch your face intently with a smile as you hold up a onesie to her. Abby looks down at her old college sweats and worn sneakers, nothing like the well put together outfit she's wearing. The woman even looks like she gets more than five hours of sleep each night for crying out loud. 
She looks happy. Something Abby hasn't been for a long time.
And judging by the way you're looking at her, like she hangs the stars in the sky, Abby can see how happy you are. She bites the inside of her cheek, refusing to remember what it felt like to have you look at her that way. Tears prickle in her eyes as you make your way down to the front of the store, dramatically blowing kisses at the giggling toddler being carried just a few steps ahead of you. One of your hands rubbing softly at your bump. 
Abby startles when you look back towards the men's section, eyes going straight to the tiny display she stood behind. Of course you spotted her. You lock eyes with her. There's a tiny smile on your face watching her come out of her shitty hiding spot. For a moment you two stand there just staring at each other. Abby's aware you probably look crazy to anyone watching but she can't bring herself to care. 
Those are my sweats. You mouth. Abby releases a watery chuckle she doubts you hear. She looks down, finally noticing the nail polish stain just under her knee. It's purple. Your favorite color. 
The sound of an alarm brings you both back to reality. You give her one last smile, waving as you walk out the doors and into the chilly December air. Her eyes follow you as you cross the street, until you get lost in a large crowd of people. 
Watching you walk away this time feels like a final goodbye. You’d always have a place in your heart for Abby, no longer feeling any resentment towards her. She had been too young and selfish to love you the way you deserved. She can see you've found that. And while she's happy for you, she can't help the tears that spill out once she's in the safety of her car. 
There's a bittersweet feeling in knowing that the world didn't stop spinning for you the way it did for her the day you walked out of her life. 
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sinstear · 2 months ago
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in the christmas spirit heavily, so ⭐ masterlist
flour, eggs, egg shells, and other random food cover the kitchen counter, cookie sprinkles thrown all over the place, even some on the floor, and abby’s grinning from the other side of the kitchen as she watches you huff under your breath, roll your eyes and glare. bits of flour in your hair, across your cheek, and all down your shirt has her stifling back a giggle. “you did this to me, i don’t know why you’re laughin’.” you grumbled, no true malice or anger behind your words as your girlfriend simply continued to grin and smirk as you tried your best to clean up the mess that’s been here for an hour. “you were the one who started it when you flicked the cookie batter at me,” abby pointed out, her smirk widening when you rolled your eyes again and did exactly what you did before, blowing some flour at her. “see!” you chuckle, poke her nose lightly and grumble under your breath. “s’just my way of showing you that i love you.” your lips found home on her forehead, and her arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tightly. “i love you too, even if you have covered our kitchen in food,” “and you!” “you still started it—” —ding! the warmth of abby was gone the second the oven was done, indicating that the cookies were too. for a while you just watched abby happily take the tray out the oven, place it on the counter and hum. happy with how they turned out, and it’s not until she’s turning her head just enough to see you, that you spot the grin on her face. “time to decorate them, and no, do not get any of the sprinkles and chocolate on the floor this time.” abby warned, sniffing at the freshly baked cookies and hummed in delight. “can’t i just watch you decorate them? you look so cute when you’re focused and shit, like a pretty little housewife.” you trailed off, popping one of the chocolate balls into your mouth and wiggling your eyebrows at her when abby’s cheeks flushed a crimson red at your words. “i’ll help you decorate the next batch, but i wanna watch you right now.”
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cheyisagirlkisser · 1 month ago
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˗ˏˋ Fluffy Abby Anderson HCs ˎˊ˗
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Content: sfw, fem! reader / Abby Anderson, I swear a lot:(
A/N: I’ve been lacking on my Abby content recently I am so sorry I missed her, but I’m working on a request for a cute firefighter Abby fic so stay tuned for that:3
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💌Abby is so sweet to you!! Like she’s big and strong but really she just wants cuddles and she likes to read books aloud to you
💌Abby loves the piano, maybe not playing it herself but it’s her favorite instrument to her she feels like the keys speak to her, every touch is a change in emotion or increase in a particular emotion itself
💌Abby can be a people pleaser at times and while you let her spoil you, she deserves it all back. She deserves soft kisses and to feel butterflies in her stomach from your words, she really just deserves the world
💌For some reason she has a total soft spot for Disney princess movies. Her favorites are Tangled and Mulan.
💌This is obvious but she is a HUGEEE gym girl. Loves hiking so much and getting in the gym, comes home sweaty and argues that she can only take a shower if you sit on the toilet seat while she rants about everything and anything
💌One time you bought her flowers for a date and she got so emotional about it probably shed a tear cause most people just see her as masculine because of her build and she actually does love flowers / gifts. Peonies are her favorite.
💌Cries to Titanic and the Notebook I can imagine Lev abusing the fuck out of this information
💌Sometimes when some asshole comments on her body or insults her femininity, she likes that you will spend time just holding her close and kissing her. Kissing her biceps and telling her how beautiful she is, her chest and her firm stomach, her toned legs and back up to her pouty lips
💌While Ellie’s pretty famous for her puns and dad jokes I think that Abby tells silly jokes a lot too, she has big sister humor and gets all butthurt when people don’t find her funny
💌Asks you to braid her hair for her because she loves the way your fingers feel twisting through the strands of her hair
💌Likes caramel candies or the chocolates filled with it!!
💌Favorite holiday is some random shit like New Year’s, but looks forward to Christmas so she can spoil the shit out of you
💌Goes BALLISTIC over pinatas at kids parties hand her a bat and a blindfold she will be swinging that shit
💌Speaking of children Abby is so gentle and sweet with kids she’s the type of person to jump on the trampoline with your little cousins at the family gathering while the adults are doing their own thing
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ioannemos · 5 hours ago
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one app for work has a function for shouting out coworkers for good work but it only allows it once every 24 hours or something and it annoys me. what if i had a great team one particular day and want to tell everyone. what then, app
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ellabsbitch · 1 year ago
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tolerate it
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pairing: older/modern abby anderson x reader
warnings: angsty angsty shit, cursing, abby kinda sucks
a/n: she has risen🙏🙏 on god i wrote this in like 2ish days because i’ve been obsessed with taylor swifts tolerate it so that’s what this is based off of <3 if it’s bad don’t tell me okay bye enjoy
wc: 4.6k :p
The unopened wine bottle placed in front of you seems to be taunting you at your loneliness, and the fancy glasses you pulled out from the highest shelf collect dust the longer they sit, empty as the day you got them. The dinner you prepared on the plate across from you sits untouched, the steam completely dissipated. You’re met with silence as you finish the last bite of your food, a part of you still hoping to hear the sound of the study door opening. A moment passes as you consider leaving the food out at the table for her but you decide to take it to her yourself. With a careful push on the table, you stand up with your plate in hand and begin putting the dishes you used while cooking into the sink.
The moon glows in the sky during the time you spend cleaning up, the window over the sink giving you the perfect view to see how late it's gotten. A quick glance at the clock above your stove tells you it's half past nine now. You grab the towel off of the hook next to the sink and use it to wipe your hands after loading the dishwasher. Lastly, you put the leftovers from dinner into the fridge and put the wine up in the cabinet along with the empty glasses. Carefully, you grab the full plate of food and make your way over to the intimidating door across from the kitchen. The sound of you knocking fills the otherwise mute home and after you wait a good moment, you think she might be ignoring you.
Just as you go to walk away, you hear a, “Come in,” from the other side of the door. The knob turns as you twist your hand around it, trying to balance the plate of food in your other hand. There Abby sits, hunched over her large dark oak desk, reading what seems to be a thick packet of paperwork she has to go over for a client. Her hair is pulled back into her signature braid, a few loose strands have fallen, outlining her frowning face. She has yet to change out of her work clothes, though she's lost the tie you recognize from gifting it to her on Christmas the year before, seeing it tossed carelessly on the ground next to her desk. You watch as her eyes scan the documents with her head down in concentration, leaving no room for any distractions, including you as you notice she has yet to acknowledge you. After watching her work in silence for a few minutes, you clear your throat in hopes she will finally take note that you are standing there. At the sudden disruption, your favorite pair of eyes flicker up to where you stay standing with a warm smile, holding out the dinner you prepared for her. 
Without a second beat, her eyes fell back down on the papers in front of her, muttering out, “M’not hungry.”  The smile adorning your face falls. A quiet sigh escapes your lips, and you walk to the left of her desk, placing the plate next to the documents that seem to captivate all of her attention. Her eyes stay locked onto the papers, even as you stand near. You see the tie out of your peripheral and you go to grab it, hearing the sound of keyboard keys clicking from beside you. When you look back at her, she's now busy typing away on the laptop she takes from home to work. The silence is deafening, other than the constant clicks of the keyboard.
Trying to fill the quiet void, you ask, “Are we still going to Nora’s tomorrow for dinner?” You receive no response other than the constant typing that you begin to grow tired of. A minute passes of your heavy stare analyzing the way she manages to effortlessly ignore your presence. 
You try again, “Abs?” No answer, once again. The familiar burning in your eyes that you've grown accustomed to these past few weeks start up again but you fight to hold back the tears of frustration from her dismissive behavior. 
“Abby…” you nearly beg once more for her to at least look up at you. 
Suddenly, the constant clattering of her fingertips on the keyboard stops, being replaced by the sound of her sighing dramatically. Her right hand comes up to wipe her face in annoyance before she turns to where you stand at her left. 
“What, y/n? I’m busy.” she says, tiredly looking across your cowering form. Her eyes drop down to where you play with her tie in your hands before she meets your stare. 
“I asked if we are still going to Nora’s for dinner tomorrow,” you quietly say, not wanting to worsen her already bad mood. Her eyes go back to her computer, starting up that annoying typing again. “I’ll take us when I get home from work.” You nod, though you know she isn’t paying attention.
Turning to leave, you pause, “Are you coming to bed soon?” She nods before stopping her typing once again to look up at you, “Don’t wait up.” You sigh, nodding again with a forced smile, leaving her to her work. You carry yourself upstairs to your shared bedroom, changing into your sleep clothes. You glance at the dresser she keeps her night clothes in, deciding to lay a pair out for her. The pajamas lay on her side of the bed as you get under the thick duvet you bought with Abby when you first moved in. Even the blanket can’t hide the coldness you feel without having her next to you. The familiar burn returns, not being able to hold back anymore. You silently cry, missing your Abby who used to never let you go to sleep alone. The same Abby who would never miss one of your homemade dinners. Most importantly, your Abby who would never take you for granted. The tears flow until you feel yourself slowly drifting to sleep, the bed still half-full. 
— — — — — 
When you wake up the next morning, you feel as cold as the night before. Wiping the sleep and dried tears from your eyes, you turn to where Abby slept, only to find her side empty. The pair of sleep clothes sits untouched in the spot you left them. You immediately go to her study once you get out of bed, finding her in the same hunched over spot you last saw her in. 
Unlike how you left her, she’s fallen asleep with her head in the palm of her hand, the stack of paperwork as her cushion. You watch as she breathes in and out, though a bit struggled with the way she is bent over her desk. Her hair is as messy as ever, blonde wisps strung across her freckled face. Somehow she manages to make sleeping on a desk the most peaceful sight.
Quietly, you tiptoe your way to her side, just like the night before. You carefully reach over, placing your hand on her shoulder to lightly shake her awake. “Abs… wake up hun,” you whisper out to her, your other hand coming up to comb back the hair from her face. She groans at the intrusion on her sleep before she slowly opens her blue orbs. For a moment, she seems as at peace as she was before you woke her, however it’s gone in a flash and she’s shaking your hands off of her. 
“Fuck, I gotta get ready,” she says, voice still deep from her sleep. You watch her quickly but neatly stuff her paperwork into her work bag and then dart out of the room. Walking after her, you hear the sound of heavy footsteps running upstairs, which you assume means she is going to get ready for work. You decide to make her a quick coffee to help her wake up from what you presume was a long night. The sound of the clock ticking fills the silent kitchen as you wait for the coffee to finish brewing. 
Just as it gets finished, you hear those same heavy footsteps rushing down the stairs.
“Abs, wait up!” you say and quickly grab the cup of coffee to give it to her before she leaves. By the time you step out of the kitchen, the front door slams shut with an echo throughout the house. You stand there, facing the front door with a coffee in hand and no one to give it to. 
The walk back to the kitchen is just as gut wrenching as the sound of the front door slamming. Not having the energy to deal with what’s left of your sweet gesture, you leave the full cup of coffee on the counter and go back to divulge in your sorrow in the comfort of your bed. 
— — — — — 
Across the room from you Abby sits at Nora’s living room couch, surrounded by her friends and coworkers. Manny, Owen, and Mel sit on the long couch while Abby and Jessica sit on the smaller couch. She’s laughing at something Jessica tells her. Her eyes are lit up in a way you haven’t seen in weeks. 
You stay standing at the entrance to the kitchen with Nora, your favorite of Abby’s friends. When Abby first brought you around her people, Nora was the most friendly and accepting of you. It always intimidated you, coming to these parties with people who are so much older than you, but Nora always made the time pass a lot better. 
“How have you been?” Nora asks suddenly, eyeing the way your gaze hasn't left Abby and Jessica the whole time you've been there. You part ways with the two on the couch and turn your attention to your kind friend.
“I’ve been good!” you say, mustering up a smile to sell your awful attempt at lying. 
Nora sees right through it. You can tell because she casts a quick glance at Abby and then to you with a look that says ‘seriously?’ Her knowing look has you dropping the eye contact, instead choosing to focus on the way your drink swirls around in the solo cup Nora made for you earlier that night. You can’t accumulate the right words to say, choosing to sigh out instead. All of the sudden, Nora’s pulling you into the kitchen, where no one can hear the two of you. 
“You wanna tell me what’s really been going on? I can tell something is off between you two,” she states with her hand coming up to rest on your shoulder in an attempt to console you. With a shake of your head, you try to laugh it off.
“Nothing is going on, Nora! Abby has been the best and I’m so grateful for everything she has done for me. Sure, she's been busy with work recently but that doesn’t mean we aren’t okay!” you respond, though you’re sure she can see past your semi-lie just as she did before. I mean, it is somewhat true. Abby HAS been extremely busy with work, but you two definitely aren’t okay.
 “Okay…” Nora pauses in thought for a moment, analyzing the smile you’re forcing and what you’ve told her. “Well I’m always here if you ever want to talk about anything, alright?” You nod your head in response, giving her a genuine smile this time. In the living room, you hear a loud commotion of yells and congratulations being thrown around. Nora nods her head in the direction of the sound, signaling you follow her into the living room. When you emerge from the kitchen, you see people surrounding Abby, giving her their congratulations and highfives. But your eyes latch onto the way Jessica is now leaned into Abby’s side, hugging her a little too intimately in your opinion. 
“What’s going on guys?” Nora asks, venturing into the swarm of people. The sound of her voice draws everyone’s attention to her, though, you stay back, watching the scene unfold. 
Manny is the first one to say, “Abby got a big promotion!” Nora is quick to congratulate her like everyone else, and the room erupts into bustling conversation. 
You continued to hang back, a little hurt that Abby didn’t tell you about the promotion, but you cut it up to that she just wanted to wait to tell everyone together. 
That is, until you hear Jessica’s agonizing voice say aloud, “She was so happy when the boss let her know, she came straight to me and told me!” 
The chatter didn’t stop but it felt like your heart did. Your head felt cloudy as you watched Abby smile so big at the people around her, not even noticing you standing there, shocked as ever. Nora turns toward you with her eyes conveying all of the words she can’t say. Without a second thought, you dart toward the bathroom down the hallway.
The door locks behind you, leaving you to try to catch your breath from the ache that resonates in your chest. You haven't realized you've started crying until you see the tears dropping into the sink you’re hunched over. Shaky hands reach up in an attempt at wiping the wetness from under your eyes but it's no use, the tears never ending. You meet your reflection in the mirror, the girl staring back at you not someone you can even recognize anymore. She is a girl who has been reduced to watching the person she loves from the sidelines. The girl who used to be the first person her lover would call with good news, cast to the side. The question is, how much more of this heartache can she bare before she fully breaks?
— — — — — 
The car ride home is silent, no words spoken between the two of you, only the sound of the engine fills the void. You’re turned towards the window, staring out into the stars that glow in the sky. You notice from the corner of your eye that she keeps glancing at you, but she's yet to say a word. By now, the tears from before have dried up, leaving your puffy eyes and smudged mascara in its wake. As the streets pass by, you try to calculate how much longer until you’re home, so you can bundle up in your bed and sleep the night away.
The sound of Abby clearing her throat knocks you out of your thoughts, casting your gaze in her direction. One hand is on the wheel and the other rests on the middle console between you two, she continues to glance back and forth between you and the road, asking, “Did you have fun?”
Your eyes cut back to the window while responding with a “Mhm.” You hear Abby sigh out, now turning into your neighborhood. The sound of your foot tapping fills the car, anticipating getting out of this confined space with her. 
As she pulls into the driveway she says, “Well, are you going to congratulate me on my promotion?” You scoff in return, whipping back to where she sits as she puts the car in park. 
“I’m sure Jessica has done enough congratulating for the both of us,” you reply, getting out of the car with a slam of the door. Not long after, you hear the driver's door slam as well and heavy footsteps walking up to follow you up on the porch. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, with a defensive tone in her words. You shake your head, unlocking the front door, your back still facing her. Once the door is unlocked, you rush inside to remove your shoes at the entryway. 
As you lean down to untie your shoes, a hand is placed on your shoulder, pulling you around to face her. Abby stands with her arms crossed in front of her chest, eyebrow furrowed in accusation, “What are you trying to say?” Yet again, you shake your head in disbelief. 
“You tell me, Abby. I mean, Jessica was the first to know about the big news and you didn’t even bother to tell me before we went to the party,” you gasp out at her ignorance. It’s her turn to shake her head as she reaches up to rub her temple as if what you’re saying is making her head hurt.
“Jessica is one of my closest friends and coworkers, y/n. Of course I told her first,” she sighs out, meeting your intense gaze once again. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull at her words.
“Over your girlfriend of three years?” She looks down at your reply. You scoff once again, “Well I can certainly see what’s been keeping you at work for so long these past few weeks.” 
Something snaps in her at that moment. Her head whips up, the signature braid following suit. You watch at the way her eyebrows furrow even further and her lips come up in a snarl in accordance to the accusation. She walks closer to you, now standing about a foot away so you have to look up to meet the anger she holds in her eyes. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she grits out, losing all composure she previously had. “I work my ass off for you all fucking day and you have the audacity to accuse me of cheating on you? Have you lost your fucking mind?” 
You shrink under her angry gaze, dropping your head to stare at your feet. Your shoe half-untied, and her boot clad feet contrast each other greatly. Suddenly, your trance is disrupted by the snap of her fingers. 
“No,” she mutters, “Fucking look at me.” 
Slowly, you lift your head up to meet her glare, hands beginning to shake. The weight in your chest returns and the cloudiness you felt earlier in your head reappears. You feel the quicken of your heartbeat in your chest at the way she looks at you, no love in sight.
“God forbid I have one night of relaxation with my friends and here you are bitching to me about it,” she says, her hostile tone bringing tears to your eyes. You can’t hide them from her anymore, almost sobbing out. She shakes her head at you with the same glare. 
“Now you’re crying like I’m the bad guy. Jesus fucking christ, y/n,” her voice raises, “You fucking suffocate me, you know that?” The sound of your sobs increases causing her to turn away from you. Her hands run up and down her head, trying to distract herself from the sound of you crying. Your knees feel weak as your hurt grows stronger, falling to the ground. You reach your arms around your knees to pull yourself in a ball, feeling your heart ache worsen and worsen. You watch as Abby paces the room, not saying a word. 
“Abs, I’m sorr-,” you go to apologize but she cuts you off with a raise of her hand in your direction. She shakes her head once again, not meeting your gaze. 
“I don’t want to hear it,” she says, staring at the ground. Her braid hangs next to her face and you look on to see her wiping her own tears away. She straightens up after a moment and turns to the door. Grabbing her jacket, she says, “I’m gonna go. We’ll talk tomorrow.” And with that, she’s gone, leaving you to wallow away in your pain alone. 
— — — — — 
The sun peeks through the curtains, casting a warm glow across your skin. Your chest still aches from the night before and your head feels like it’s pounding. Abby's side of the bed is left untouched once again, no trace of the blonde coming home last night. The sight makes your heart grow heavier but you gather yourself to the bathroom to freshen up from your slumber. 
When you exit the bathroom, you can hear a quiet murmur from outside of the bedroom. You quietly trek to the door and lean into it, delicately pressing your ear to it so that you can hear the conversation. It’s Abby, she's on the phone with someone, you notice. 
“I know the luncheon is a big deal, Jess.” you hear her mumble. “I just have to deal with y/n before I leave.” With that, you dart away from the door as your breath grows heavier. A hand reaches up in an attempt to calm the pounding in your chest, though it does little to help. You’re not surprised that once again she’s choosing a work luncheon, or Jessica for that matter, over you. But you won’t sit around waiting for her to choose you anymore.
Once you’ve made up your mind, you rush to the closet you share with Abby, grabbing your suitcase and bringing it to the bed. You scramble around the room, gathering clothes and other important things, stuffing them without care into the suitcase. Remembering your tooth brush and other bathroom items, you hurry to the bathroom to grab those as well, wanting to be packed up by the time Abby comes to check on you. 
You finish frantically packing your travel bag and emerge from the bathroom to see Abby opening your bedroom door. She notices you standing there and lets out a small smile, analyzing your expression to try to see how you’re doing. 
“Hey sweetheart, you’re awak-” she cuts herself off as she watches you walk with your travel bag to the suitcase that lays open and packed on your shared bed. “W-what are you doing?” Her voice stutters, realizing exactly what you are doing but not wanting to say it.
“I’m leaving,” you state with no room left to argue. You can’t face her like this, knowing that if you did, she would have you falling down to your knees, begging for another chance. 
She laughs out almost like she thinks you’re playing a funny prank on her, but when she sees the stone cold expression painted across your delicate features, she knows it’s not a joke. You hear her slowly make her way to where you’re packing at the side of the bed, her breathing so loud that you can hear it from where you stand. 
“Baby, just let me-,” she goes to say, however you cut her off before she can finish with a raise of your hand, the same way she did to you last night.
“I don’t want to hear it, Abby.” you say, whipping your head to face her. “I’m sure you have more important things to take care of, like that luncheon ‘Jess’ was talking about.” Your words come out harsh but it‘s nothing compared to the way she spoke to you the night before. The look in her eyes shows regret and her own pain that your actions are causing her but you can’t bring yourself  to care as you turn back toward your suitcase to finish zipping it up. You lift the suitcase by the handle and drop it to the floor and begin to walk around her, suitcase in your trail. With each step you take, you hear her exhale shakier than the time before and once you reach the bedroom door, you hear her speak up.
“Can we please just talk about this, baby?” she whispers out to you, your hand pausing on the door. You turn back toward her to find her looking at you with a crestfallen expression, tears now dripping from the corners of her eyes. Her cheeks are stained red, in the way they usually are when she’s anxious from work, but now it’s because of you. You feel yourself begin to nod and you watch as her back straightens for a moment. 
“You know what? Yeah, let’s talk,” you say, turning back toward the door to drag your suitcase down to the living room. The sound of her familiar footsteps follow you, you sitting on the couch and her on the chair next to it. You find yourself in deep thought on what you want to say to her, wanting to show her what she’s put you through.. She sits, watching you quietly, anxiously waiting for you to speak first. Her hands run up and down her muscular thighs in an attempt to calm herself down. When you finally gather your thoughts, you pan back to her. Her eyes immediately lock on to yours, and there is a hopefulness in the way she stares back at you.
“You used to be the person who I could go to with all of my problems and you would find a way to make me feel better about them,” you start, watching as her head drops down to stare at the palms of her hands. “Baby-” she tries but you stop her, “Let me finish.” She looks back up at you, small tears forming in her eyes, but she nods nonetheless. 
“All of my pain from the past went away whenever you were near, but now it’s like I’m begging to just be in a small portion of your life.” you say, feeling the burning from your eyes start up. “I mean, you don’t even talk to me anymore, Abby.”
She shakes her head at the weight of your words. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I’ve been so busy with work and I guess I assumed you were fine.” At her words, she wraps her arms around her body, trying to console herself. You let out a small cry at that, reaching up to wipe your face. 
“Where did you think I was, Abby? When you were out there getting your big promotions and new clients, I was here, waiting for you to come home,” you remind her, tears blurring your vision. She’s now moved to holding her head in her hands, crying harder than before. “I’ve made you my everything, I cook your favorite meals and I clean up after you, but you make me feel like I’m taking up too much space. And when I do try to talk to you, you act as if I’m wasting your time.”
Once again, she's frantically shaking her head and turning her attention back to you. “No, baby, you are never a waste of time and I love when you’re around.” You watch as she falls down on her knees in front of you, begging for you to believe her. “Please, forgive me. I didn’t mean anything I said last night.”
“You take my love for granted, Abby.” you whisper to her, trying to hold back the sobs that are waiting to be unleashed. “I can’t live like this anymore. Not when it feels like you just tolerate my love for you.” 
She cries harder as you stand up from your seat on the couch and grab your suitcase. The walk to the front door is hard, trying to block out the sobs from behind you. You pause once you’ve made it and turn back towards her, finding her standing up in the same spot, watching you leave. 
You give one last request, “I love you so much, Abby, but until you prove to me that you appreciate me and want me in your life, I won’t be back.” Despite the tears streaming down your face, your expression remains firm and you mean every word you say. You watch as she nods her head and makes her way over to you. With a gentle touch, she lifts her strong hands to cup your face, placing a warm kiss on the top of your head. She tilts your head up to face her blue orbs, glistening with tears, and she says, “I promise I won’t stop until I have you back.”
You nod up at her as she releases her hold on your head, and you turn back to open the door. The crisp breeze hits you as soon as you step outside with your baggage and you turn back one last time.
“Goodbye, Abby.” you say, looking at the tears continuously pouring down her freckled cheeks. Her lips pick up in a small, sad smile as she says, “I’ll see you soon, y/n.” 
— — — — —
a/n: i hope you enjoyed even tho it’s sad lmao but i’m thinking about writing a part two where abby tries to get her back (or maybe something else :0) lmk if y’all liked it 🤞
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hunnylagoon · 1 year ago
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Right Where You Left Me
Pt 3: Being So Normal
Ellie Williams x Reader
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Horror pushes tears from my eyes as I uncover the corpses of your past relationships. Each of them dead and lifeless as the next. Because that is what you do, you ruin what is good and it makes me miss you less and less as everyday goes by.
Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends until you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find their way back to each other. On this night some questionable choices lead you to a vulnerable state where you run out of options.
Warnings: Angst / reader has religious issues / drinking / smoking / drugs
Part one here!
Part two here!
Part three here!
ELLIE
It wasn't as fun as I thought to watch you fall apart.
The morning after Christmas you left before I even woke, your makeshift bed made. You gathered all of the boxes of shit I collected off your dad's lawn and took off, leaving behind nothing more than a letter thanking my dad for his hospitality. 
When I came back to Northridge a week later it was like I was looking at a new person. 
Everything that had happened was swept under the rug, you lied and told the girls that you had a great Christmas. You started picking up overtime shifts, you were out more than you were at home.
I watch you stumble through the doors at five AM, makeup smeared, hair a mess and the fakest smile I have ever borne witness to, plastered across your face. You worked the closing shift almost every night and would go partying afterwards with your shitty co-workers who enabled this type of ruination.
I saw your stories too, shot after shot, In every single picture you nurse a drink in your hand or a cigarette wedged between your fingers. When did you even start smoking?
Abby and Cat didn't know just had bad you were but Dina was catching on. I remember how she would go out with you at the beginning, in her mind it had just been harmless fun until it was a nightly occurrence she started to get concerned.
It's like you've euthanized the person you used to be.
You can't even stand to be in a quiet room so you will it with nonsense conversation, hardly even words and laugh at your own jokes.
You used to glow. Back in middle school, you glowed like a candle that smelled of pumpkins and lattes, your love felt like sinking into a warm bath, comfort and security. In high school you glowed like the moon, no one could pry their wondering eyes away from your nerve-wracking beauty, gentle and empathetic.
Though now you do not glow, you burn. You burn like the end of a cigarette, the bud fluttering to the ground just to be crushed by the heel of muddy Converse. The spark of a lighter to ignite your stale menthol cigarette, slipped from bony fingers like clumsy matchsticks to the wilderness, to set what once was beautiful aflame.
Fire is only beautiful while it burns, I knew that soon you would smother yourself out to ashes.
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I've been nourishing my withering body with 50-cent packets of ramen noodles. 
I know that I'm not well, in fact, I think I've fallen off the rails.
When was the last time I got a full night of sleep? I'm not sure.
My days and nights bleed together and I can hardly differentiate the two. I hate everyone but I'm so starved for love I am searching everywhere for it, I look for it in dingy clubs and roadkill off the side of a highway, the bottom of a solo cup and the arms of one-night stands, I have even learned to lick it off silver knives. They have taken the rosery from my hand and replaced it with hard liquor.
I went out last night to forget like I do every single night. I look to the moon and pretend it is its being with thoughts and feelings, I act like I talk to it and it has said that it shines just for me.
Tonight, I will go out again. I smear glitter over my eyelids and slip into a silver sequin dress that doesn't even fall past my fingertips. I force my scabbed and bleeding feet into white stilettos that are sure to damage them even further. When I look in the mirror I feel a new sense of bitterness, like nicotine on the tip of my tongue, my face is thinning and my eyes are sunken in, dark bags hanging below the dull irisis. I cover it in concealer and bronze my face to help me look some sort of alive.
"Where are you going?" Dina asks me as I walk from my room and towards the front door, she has a tote bag packed up, her car keys in hand.
"The Monarch," I answer, it was a club on the main street, it tended to be the busiest also infamous for sketchy activity. My eyebrows furrow as I look at the tote bag in hand "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to Jesse's for the night, " She says, tonight her hair is loose and falling over her shoulders "Are you sure you wanna go out tonight?"
I nod, suddenly feeling vulnerable in my choice of clothing "Yeah," Sensing her judgement, I'm already getting defensive "I'm in college, all I do and go to work and school-
"Who's fault is that?" Dina cuts me off and my words fail me, I don't know what to say. She looks at me with disappointment glinting in her dark eyes.
My phone dings and I check the notification "My ride is here."
"Don't stay out too late."
"I won't," We both know that I am lying.
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I have been many things over the years, a pirate, a cowboy, a warrior; over the past five months alone I have been a lonely girl and a saint, now I am a drunk who drowns out her worries in vodka and overly sweet cocktails.
"To being young, dumb, and broke!" Kayla raises her shot, and the rest of the group does the same. The small glasses clink together, and some of the vodka spills before we all swallow them back and slam them back onto the bar.
The central focal point was the expansive dance floor, alive with bodies moving in rhythmic unison. Multicoloured strobe lights cut through the haze, creating an otherworldly atmosphere.
The bar, a gleaming expanse of polished metal, beckoned with the promise of libations. Bartenders, clad in stylish attire, skillfully craft cocktails. The mirrored backdrop reflected the kaleidoscope of lights and the animated conversations that unfolded in this hub of social convergence.
Overhead, suspended fixtures resembling metallic sculptures add to the overstimulation.
"Welcome back," The bartender, Mitch, smiles at me, I know him by name now that I've been bouncing around from club to club almost every night. "Long Island ice tea?" He asks, to which I respond with a nod. He's memorized my drink too.
Kayla is beside me while the others have dispersed to dance or converse, she sips a dirty martini. Her beautiful copper hair is styled into loose curls, she is clad in all black, a tube top, a mini skirt and tall boots as well as a slightly oversized leather jacket thrown overtop. She looks like the definition of a cool girl.
Everyone liked her. 
"So how are things with the roommates?" She asks me, her green eyes piercing mine, she has a slight smile on her perfect lips.
"It's fine," I lied, again. I knew Dina was getting tired of taking care of me when I was too drunk to make my own way home, all of the girls that Ellie brought over hated me. I haven't been seeing much of Abby but Cat and I were actually good.
I can tell that Kayla doubts my words but she carries on to another topic "Are you ready to get fucked up tonight?"
"Yes, ma'am," I giggle. Around the curved bar, I see a woman, she's in a red top and black jeans, her hair in a mousy brown shag cut. Obviously, she caught my eye. "Do you think she's gay?"
Kayla discreetly turns to look at the woman, she turns back to me grinning "No shit."
The woman catches me staring at her and smiles at me, of course, she has perfectly straight white teeth and a pretty smile. I sheepishly smile back "Hey, Mitch?" I wait for the bartender to give me his attention "Two shots of Everclear?"
That's how the majority of my night plays out; I dance for a minute, swaying to- not really swaying, I was dancing in a way that became a hazard to those around me then return to the bar to down more drinks.
"Hey," I hear a voice beside me, it isn't one I recognize, and when I face it, I feel my heartbeat pick up. It was the woman I had been eyeing, now that she's this close I can see the freckles scattered on her face. "Do you wanna dance?"
I can't help when my face splits into a smile, "For sure," I slip off the barstool and follow her onto the dancefloor, the lights are orange and hazy or maybe the haziness is caused by my drunken state. The woman says something to me but it's drowned out by the overwhelmingly loud music "What?" 
"I'm Karris," She repeats, smiling down at me.
"Cool!" I say. I followed Karris' lead with the dancing, she had a certain confidence in her. 
I swayed with each ungraceful movement. Karris, the opposite of me is attuned to the music, moved with a confident fluidity that balanced out my careless stumbles. She laughs at my dancing "Here, I'll help you out." She shouts, trying to be heard over the Rhianna song blasting in my ears.
She comes up behind me, snaking her hands down my torso until they find a resting spot on my hips. With a firm grip, she slows me down, and now I'm moving with her, as one.
My sequin dress shimmered with every twist and move, like a mirrorball, I too might hang. As the light shifts I could've sworn I saw Ellie in the face of Karris. 
I felt the liquor hit me all at once and my body became loose, melting into Karris, I'm almost limp against her touch. She's in front of me now and my arms are hooked around her neck while her slim hands lay on her midriff. 
Her eyebrows furrow as she says something to me but once again it it lost in all of the noise, I just laugh, pretending like I heard what she was saying and hoping that it wasn't something about her dog dying.
The pop song changes into some song in French, I can't make out the words. Wait, I aced every French test in high school, I step away from Karris, squinting my eyes as I stand still in the middle of the dancefloor trying to process the lyrics.
 Je veux te voir- I need you, no, that doesn't sound right. I want to see you, that's it. 
 je veux t'avoir- I want to hold you.
I want to hold you? Is that it? When did my French get so rough? I can't even think straight.
I swear on every god I was so drunk that I forgot I was in the middle of a dancefloor, it had slipped from my mind that I was dancing with someone, and all I could think about was my French classes from high school.
Age fifteen - Grade 10
The French lesson seemed to be even more boring than usual that day. Monsieur Cargin was babbling on and on about how there could be a room full of women but if there was one male rat you would refer to them using ils instead of elles. It was the same lesson I had learned every single year in French.
It took Monsieur Cargin thirty minutes to announce the project. "Pour ce devoir, vous écrirez une lettre à un camarade de classe sur vous-même, vous pourrez inclure des informations sur votre famille, vos passe-temps, vos sujets préférés et peut-être un bon souvenir. Si vous êtes ami avec votre partenaire, vous pouvez écrire avec lui sur quelque chose que vous attendez avec impatience. La lettre fera au minimum un paragraphe, je viserais plus haut si vous voulez une bonne note." Easy enough, a letter to a classmate about your self. "Avant de demander, vous pouvez choisir vos propres partenaires."
I look right over to Ellie from across the room after he mentions choosing our own partners, she doesn't meet my gaze though, she looks as lost as ever, rifling through some papers in her binder and I'm not even sure she understood a word of what the teacher said.
Monsieur Cargin lets us begin our project, everyone gets up from their seat to search for a partner; Ellie, seeing that everyone is standing up, gets up as well. I wave her down to my desk, she crouches beside it and asks "What the fuck are we supposed to be doing?"
I explain the project to her while she hangs off my desk and nods at everything I'm saying, giving me her full attention "Do you get it now?"
"Yes." 
The next day we finished writing the letters and had to give them to each other before we turned it in, I gave Ellie my letter first.
Ellie,
Je suis heureux que nous soyons amis, non seulement parce que nos parents nous ont forcés à l'être, mais parce que tu es mon âme sœur dans chaque vie. J'aimerais te parler de moi, mais tu me connais déjà mieux que moi-même, alors je vais juste dire certaines choses que je sais sur toi. Vous avez lu chaque couverture de la bande dessinée Savage Starlight, plus d'une fois. Je sais que vous aimez faire du shopping dans la section hommes des magasins parce que vous pensez que c'est plus confortable même si vous finissez par ressembler à Adam Sandler. Vous détestez les mathématiques même si vous êtes vraiment bon dans ce domaine et vous aimez l'anglais même si vous détestez les études romanesques. Vous parlez à toute vitesse parce que vous avez tellement de choses à dire et pas assez de temps pour le dire, vous chantez comme une église avec une chorale et chaque fois que je vous vois entrer dans une pièce, je ne peux m'empêcher de sourire. J'ai hâte d'entrer à l'université, nous pouvons être colocataires et décorer la maison exactement comme nous le voulons, merci de toujours me supporter.
(Translation)
Ellie,
I'm glad that we're friends, not just because our parents forced us to be but because you are my soulmate in every single life. I would like to tell you about me, but you already know me better than I know myself so instead I will just say some things I know about you. You have read every Savage Starlight comic cover to cover, more than once. I know that you like to shop in the men's section at stores because you think it's more comfortable even if you end up looking like Adam Sandler. You hate math even though you are really good at it and you love English even though you hate novel studies. You talk at a mile a minute because you have so much to say and not enough time to say it, you sing like a church with a choir in it and every time I see you walk into a room I can't help but smile. I can't wait for college, we can be roommates and decorate the house exactly how we want it, thank you for always putting up with me.
I bent the rubric a little bit, talking about Ellie rather than myself but we were really getting graded on our French comprehension, not the subject matter of the letter. Ellie read it through, over and over, nodding her head along and pretending that it made perfect sense but I can tell by the way she squints her eyes and furrows her eyebrows that it doesn't make sense. She hand hers to me next, pride clear across her face.
Ton père est toujours en colère et je pense que c'est pour ça que nous sommes mariés. J'apprécie quand tu dors dans ma chambre et que nous nous battons avec des pistolets à eau. Mon film préféré à regarder est Star Wars, mais j'apprécie aussi Hunger Games parce que vous en êtes témoin. J'attends avec impatience une soirée cinéma ce vendredi avec vous. Tu es très cool, merci d'être mon ami.
(Translation)
Your dad is always mad and I think that is why we are married. I enjoy when you sleep at my room and we fight with guns of water. My favourite movie to watch is Star Wars but I also enjoy Hunger games because you witness it. I look forward to night movie this Friday because with you. You are very cool, thank for being my friend.
I can't help but giggle when I read it over, this causes panic in Ellie "Why are you laughing, what's wrong with it?"
"I love you but you are definitely failing."
I quickly helped her rewrite it before we turned it in, and she ended up getting a B with my revisions.
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"Are you okay?" I hear Karris, she looks a little on edge, probably because I went nonverbal and froze for a solid minute or two.
"She's fine," Kayla puts her hands on either of my arms which are currently plastered to my side "I'm just gonna snag her for a minute if you don't mind." Kayla didn't wait for a response she was already dragging me away, guiding me through the sea of people and into the bathroom.
I always hated the bathroom here. The walls were black tile with white grout and there was graffiti all over the stalls and ceiling, apparently, it added to the effect, I just thought it was fugly; not to mention how dimly lit it was, there were red LED strips behind the mirrors but that was about the only light source. If you were trying to fix your eyeliner, you 
"What is going on with you?" Kayla leans against the counter with the sinks, I'm right in front of her with my arms crossed.
"Nothing-
"I just saw you glitch in real life," She raises her eyebrows "You literally froze, I thought you were having a stroke."
I wipe some sweat off my brow "My head hurts," I mutter, I've already had too much to drink and we really hadn't been there that long. My thoughts didn't seem to process. Now keep in mind that I was so insanely plastered that night that I don't remember everything verbatim, I had to take others' words for what happened.
"Do you want an aspirin?" Kayla asks to which I nod and she begins digging through her purse, she pulls out a little bottle and I hear the rattling of pills. It's so dark that I can only make out the vague shape of the bottle. She places a little pill into my hand and gives me a half-drunk bottle of Fiji water in my free hand.
I don't need the water though, I dry swallow it.
She tucks the bottle back into her purse and feels something, I see her eyes go wide and that alone begins to stress me out. "What?" I ask, with no answer. She dumps her purse onto the counter behind her and turns on her phone flash to look at each item, she snatches a bottle of Tylenol and takes the cap off just for her hand to fly over her mouth. "Is something wrong?"
"I didn't give you aspirin," She's fighting back laughter but her dainty features are etched with concern.
"So?" I say, "It's just Tylenol, it won't kill me," My speech is slurred from the alcohol in my system.
"Honey, it's not Tylenol," She lowers her hand from her mouth, pressing her lips together tight. "It's MDMA."
"What?"
"Ecstasy," She corrects herself, making it easier for me to understand.
"WHAT?" My eyes go wide and my jaw drops "WHAT?" I repeat, running over to one of the nasty graffiti-covered stalls and kneeling in front of it, sticking my fingers down my throat to try and throw up to get it out of my system before it sets in. "Say something gross to make me throw up!"
"Uhh," Kayla stood behind me "Think of your dad getting off with your grandma!"
"EW!" I shout, turning to look at her with disgust on my face. "Why would you say that?"
"You told me to say something gross!"
"Not that!" I cry, slouching against the stall. I wish I had a time machine, I wouldn't just go back four hours, I would go back four years and make sure I play everything right. Maybe then I wouldn't be drunk and high in the bathroom of a dingy nightclub and I would still have Ellie.
"It's okay, honey, It's clean," Kayla walks closer to me, the heels of her boots clacking on the tile "I promise," She offers me a little rub on the shoulder "I promise I'll take good care of you tonight and make sure you're safe."
She was lying through her teeth, and just an hour later I was face down on the bar, lulling in and out of consciousness. That is the exact moment I started to think it wasn't clean like Kayla had said. My high didn't feel like what I was told rolling was like.
At first, I felt fine and then everything started to feel off. You know when you spin around a bunch super fast and your world spins under your feet? It was like that. 
Before I retired to the bar, I tried to get back on the dancefloor just for my body to betray me and collapse onto the ground, people around me had stopped to watch me stagger back onto my feet and wordlessly stumble away.
After I lift my head off the spruce bartop and don't see Kayla anywhere in sight for the seventh time, I reach for my phone that I had stuffed into my bra and dial up Dina. 
I hear the hum of the tone before it clicks and I hear her static voice on the other end. "Hello?" Her voice crackles.
"Dina, I'm on drugs."
"What?" I hear some shuffling in the background then what sounds like the click of a door "What drugs? are you okay?"
"I don't know," My voice drags out "Kayla took it out of her purse, said it was MMA and I'm not-" I hiccup "I'm not doing well."
"What the hell is MMA? Isn't that mixed martial arts?"
"Dina, I'm not doing martial arts, I'm doing drugs."
She sighs and I can feel her disappointment through the phone "Are you still at Monarch?"
"Yes."
"Hang on," Something shifts in the background.
"I'm kind of scared."
"Please just stay where you are-
"I love you, Dina."
"I lo- CLICK
My phone dies, and the screen turns black. I click some buttons for a moment to ensure that it's dead before I tuck it back into my bra and let myself lull back onto the bar, I rest my head on my arms and look at the displays of liquor surrounding me.
I lose track of the time that passes, in my head I am just about the win the 72nd Hunger Games, it's down to me and another tribute. There's an intense fight, I wind up underneath her and she presses a blade to my throat, I get a good look at her face and see Ellie but her face doesn't stay the same. It morphs through every version of her I had ever known. When we were seven, her grunge phase, when she let me do her makeup. This is when I give up, I know I don't have it in me to kill her so I lay limp and await my fate-
"Hey," A man sits next to me, his presence stood out effortlessly. With a strong, chiselled jawline and well-defined features, his face carried an air of that old-money elegance. His hazel eyes were softened by something (alcohol, probably), drawing others into their captivating gaze. Dark, tousled hair framed his face, adding an intriguing touch of ruggedness. He is clad in a white button-up and dress pants, I can well he's a blue-collar man just from the way he sits.
"What?" I squint my eyes at him.
"You're really pretty, I thought I would introduce myself," He smiles "I'm Emmet."
"Okay," I answer turning my attention to look ahead at the liquor display, watching the way the lights shone through them. Right now I don't care to make conversation, even if he looks like Henry Cavell, I'm fighting to stay awake.
One of his bulky hands reaches for my necklace, four of his fingers are beneath the cross, pressed against it while his thumb rubs it "You're religious."
I look down where he cradles my cross and try to jerk away but my body feels too heavy "Not anymore," I mutter. I put one of my hands over his to move it off me, he takes this as an invitation to hold my hand.
Emmet brings his head next to mine to whisper in my ear "So does that mean you're a good girl or a bad girl-
"It means she's leaving, actually," Ellie pushes him away abruptly, he looks taken aback while she doesn't give a shit. She begins to gingerly help me off the stool "Do you have everything?"
"Why are you here?" I ask "I called Abby."
"You called Dina and she's on the other side of town with her boyfriend so she sent me." Ellie slings one arm around me and I sink into her immediately.
"I hate you so much," I murmur under my breath.
"Yeah, I bet you do," She is gentle with me, she's treating me like I'm made of porcelain and I'll shatter at the slightest bit of harm.
Emmet looks crazily offended, his hands up in defence "Hey, we were having a conversation-
"Borderline harassment doesn't constitute a conversation." Ellie looks like she rolled out of bed, she is in her grey sweatpants and field hockey hoodie, her hair in the low ponytail she always wore to sleep. "Are you okay?" She asks, her tone shifting from harsh to soft.
"Mhm," I ball my fist up and rub my eye, smearing my mascara when I do so, I look down at my hand and see the remnants of my telescopic mascara and silver glitter smudged on it. 
I am killing myself slowly and it is no crucifixion. 
As Ellie helps me into the back seat of her car I feel like mold is growing on my bones just to way me down to the concrete where I will surely rot. "I don't write enough," I mumble "And I'm so lonely I'm searching for god everywhere but I can't find him."
Ellie gives me a little hum of acknowledgment her eyes briefly shooting to me in the rearview mirror before looking back to the road. 
"Don't worry, I'm not in love with you anymore," I say nonchalantly as I'm sprawled out in her back seat, watching the light from neon signs pass us by.
"I didn't know you ever were." She says softly, hands on the steering wheel, she steals glances at me. The towering skyscrapers loomed like sentinels, their reflective glass surfaces capturing the myriad colours of neon signs that adorned the streets.
"I hate you," I add on. The mix of liquor and whatever drug Kayla gave me was doing me justice, I couldn't hold back any thought, they all fell from my lips in a jumbled mess. "I hope you die, I hope we both die." Ellie doesn't have anything to say to that. I think to myself that if I die in this moment, I would not be afraid, I would greet death like an old friend with a bright smile and warm hug. "I don't love anyone the way I love you," My head lulls against the window "And your girls, they all hate me."
"So which is it?" She asks, feeding into my tangent "Do you love me or do you hate me?"
"I-" I think about it for a brief moment "I hope if I killed myself everyone who was ever mean to me felt responsible." I look up slightly, using the car seats to help me steady myself "What are you doing?"
"I'm taking you home," She says, biting the inside of her cheek "What are you doing?"
"I'm waiting for god to call me back."
I ramble on and on, it's a miracle that she didn't stop at the side of the road and dump me onto a curb. The traffic lights painted the road in hues of red and green, and the city lights flickered like stars, helping us find our way home. 
"Ellie," I say, a building up ahead catches my eyes "Ellie, pull over!" She thinks I'm going to throw up so she pulls her gray sedan over, as swiftly as possible. I stumble out of the car, my stiletto heel catches the ground in a weird way, my ankle goes sideways and I fall with it.
"Shit," Ellie rushes from the driver's seat to help me sit up straight. I use her as support to pull myself off the concrete sidewalk completely and walk towards the church up ahead like a zombie "Where are you going?"
"To clean myself from sin," I approach the church and force the heavy doors open; I knew for a fact even in my state that this church had its chapel open twenty-four hours from all of the Google pins my mom sent me when I first moved here. 
The chapel's interior was bathed in a soft, ethereal moonlight that filtered through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colours upon the polished wooden pews below. 
Smooth, cool stone formed the foundation of the chapel. The high, arched ceilings reached towards the heavens, adorned with wooden beams that seemed to cradle the sacred space below. The acoustics, shaped by the architecture, lent an echo to the moonlight whisper as if the very walls absorbed and magnified the prayers of the faithful.
Rows of meticulously arranged pews lined either side of a central aisle, leading towards the altar bathed in a soft glow. Carved with intricate detail, the altar served as the focal point, adorned with candles, floral arrangements, and sacred symbols. The air was scented with the subtle fragrance of incense, a sensory companion to the spiritual journey within.
Throughout the chapel, unlit candles are spread throughout. Above the altar, a crucifix hung solemnly, a symbol of sacrifice and redemption. Rays of moonlight seemed to converge upon it, imbuing the sacred symbol with a profound sense of grace. 
I try to compose myself the way you would a song or a speech and fall to my knees before the altar, clasping my hands together tightly. "My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. I wake young but feel as though my bones have resided on this earth for centuries."
I am at his altar but I don't feel him around me, where is his steady hand which used to guide me?
My hands grasp together even tighter "I am filthy, I'm disgusting," I choke out "I'm all used up and I need you to help me get better," I break my hands away from their position to wipe my eyes free of any oncoming tears before putting them right back "Fill me with your purity, I will be waterboarded by your sacred hand until holy water leaks from my pores."
Ellie hangs around by the entrance, sketched out by not only the creepy church but also my off-putting behaviour. She flinches at every shadow she sees, believing it to be a homeless person who was residing there for the night. I'm kneeling over in my sequin dress, one of the straps slips down my shoulder and my dress rides up, this is the most sinful I have ever been, synthetic sunshine coursing through my system.
"Make me love myself so I have room to love you," I feel so repulsive and dirty, soap and water won't make me feel clean so I'll try bleach and matches instead "I ask for Your mercy and grace to cleanse me from all unrighteousness. Create in me a clean heart, God, and renew a right spirit within me, return my family to my side."
I search for some sort of sign that he is watching over me.
Nothing.
No sign that he is here.
The priest at my old church in my hometown had said that without doubt there was no room for faith. It wasn't doubt, it was absolution, he is not here and so I unclasped my golden cross necklace and discarded it on the ground before the altar, never again will I be haunted by a man who has failed to ever show me mercy.
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Ellie washes the grime off me with the detachable shower head. My hair is clipped up and I am hugging my knees, facing away from her in the bathtub. I feel a profound sense of shame and embarrassment all over again despite everything within me that is helping to take the edge off. 
She holds the shower head but looks away to give me some false sense of dignity, I cried the whole way home from the church about being filthy but with how many times I had fallen over, she didn't want me to hit my head in the shower so we settled on this.
"I'm done," I mutter and right away Ellie turns the shower off and grabs my house robe from one of the hooks on the door, she holds it up and waits for me to stand, still averting her eyes. I stand slowly, gripping onto the rim of the tub for dear life. When I slip into it, Ellie helps me move out of the bathtub and into my bedroom.
She lifts me onto the bed and tucks me in beneath my satin duvet cover. Ellie leaves for a moment but when she returns she has a bowl in case I need to vomit, a class of water, a sleeve of saltines and a bottle of actual aspirin.
"Goodnight," She begins to shut the door but I stop her.
"Ellie?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you stay with me?" My voice breaks as I say it "Just for tonight, I don't want to be alone." Wordlessly, she shuts the door and comes around the right side of my bed; Ellie is careful keep her distance from me but unlike Christmas, we face each other. "I don't hate you." I tell her because that is all I could recall saying in the car ride.
"I know."
"Do you hate me?"
"Of course not."
I don’t think I’m a whole person anymore, I think I’m made up from a dozen different perceptions of me. This version of me, born that night was anything but pure.
I am unlovely, so please, hold me gently and do not wreck me any further.
A/N: The drinking age in Canada is nineteen! They go to school in the true north strong and free. Also one more part left to go 👀
Tag list!
@elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliesaesp @melanie-watermelon @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @skylerwhitwyo @lmaoo-spiderman @joliettes @kittnii @taylorgracies @sameenatruther @mikellie @belles-hell
Sorry if I missed anyone!
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metalandmagi · 1 year ago
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A list of underrated Christmas movies for everyone who is getting tired of watching the same things every year:
This year, I wanted to make a list of a few Christmas movies that I feel are a bit underrated and under-appreciated, because I’m tired of seeing the same things all the time. If anyone has any suggestions for their own lesser known holiday movies, please feel free to include them!
Arthur Christmas: An animated movie that should be a classic, but it was unfortunately lost to time because it had a horrible marketing campaign that made it look like complete shit. Well, I’m here to tell you that it’s not complete shit. It’s actually fucking amazing.
Arthur, the clumsy son of the current Santa Claus is known for being a lovable idiot who tends to ruin everything he touches, but when a little girl’s present is accidentally left behind one Christmas, Arthur, an elf named Bryony, and his grandfather (a previous Santa…so grandsanta) embark on a chaotic mission around the world to deliver the missing present. Every character in this movie is so fucking funny and empathetic at the same time. Arthur embodies the true meaning of Christmas in everything he does. Bryony is just…on another level entirely. Arthur’s brother Steve (a strategic genius who wants to use his new technology to ensure his place as the next Santa) is a perfect antagonist that the audience still feels sympathy for. They all just have such a fun dynamic, and it’s a crime that more people haven’t seen this.
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Spirited: A fairly new addition to the Christmas movie ranks, since it came out in 2022 (but it was on AppleTV+ so no one watched it). Spirited is a modern, musical version of A Christmas Carol like you’ve never seen before (starring Will Ferrell and Ryan Reynolds, who are an amazing combination in anything). If you’re tired of seeing endless retellings of Dickens' story, just watch this. It’s hilarious, heartfelt, and it brings a whole new perspective to the story in a way that I’m not going to spoil. And the songs go so hard it’s insane.
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Happiest Season: A rom-com in which a woman named Abby desperately wants to propose to her girlfriend Harper over the holidays during Harper’s family Christmas party…only to realize that Harper’s extremely rich and conservative family doesn’t know she’s gay. Fun rom-com shenanigans ensue. Did I mention Abby is played by Kristen Stewart, and Harper is played by Mackenzie Davis? Also Aubrey Plaza, Alison Brie, and that guy from Schitt’s Creek everyone loves are in it.
This could easily have been a completely different movie if the cast wasn't so funny and didn’t have such good chemistry. It starts out as a standard holiday rom-com, but I was tearing up by the end of this the first time I watched it. If you’ve ever felt like you’ve been hiding your true self from your family or if you’ve felt like you’ve never been good enough for them, I think you’ll see a lot to relate to in this. 
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Violent Night: Another new addition to the ever-expanding list of Christmas movies, this aptly named action thriller also came out in 2022, and I feel like no one has spoken about it since, which is a crime because IT WAS SO MUCH FUCKING FUN!
When a grizzled, down on the world Santa (played by David Harbour) gets stuck in a rich family’s house while it’s being overrun by mercenaries, he has to Die Hard his way out and save the hostages (or at least the ones who are worth saving) before it’s too late. This was such a fun surprise, because violent action thrillers are so hit and miss for me personally. David Harbour is great. It’s just under 2 hours of watching shitty people get their comeuppance in unique ways. I’m so offended that it only has a 6.7/10 on IMDB, because this is a great movie to watch with a group of friends and some age appropriate beverages. Yeah, it’s not a masterpiece, and maybe my standards are low, but I had a great time with this.
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Tokyo Godfathers: An anime Christmas classic directed by Satoshi Kon in which 3 homeless people (a former drag queen, a runaway teen, and a grumpy alcoholic) find a baby in a dumpster and try to reunite it with its family. This was the movie that tricked me into thinking Satoshi Kon’s other works would be just as comedic and wholesome as this one. It’s got humor. It’s got heart. It’s got twists and turns that will keep you guessing in the classic Satoshi Kon fashion. And the English dub is just as good as the sub, so you can’t go wrong either way.
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Neo Yokio- Pink Christmas: Speaking of anime…I’ve talked about this one before, but I have to mention it again because it’s a staple for me every year. Pink Christmas is the Christmas special for the…anime (and I use that word in the loosest way possible) Neo Yokio…aka the one starring (and possibly made by?) Jaden Smith.
For anyone who’s never heard of it, Neo Yokio is a series on Netflix that is the closest thing to a professionally made Abridged Series we’ll ever have. The “plot” of the series revolves around Kaz, a pink haired guy who fights demons and does increasingly absurd rich people things with his robot mecha butler named Charles. The Christmas special involves Charles telling Kaz a Christmas story about the city’s Secret Santa competition for all the ultra rich people.
Look, there’s no good way to describe this one, but trust me when I say you don’t have to watch Neo Yokio to understand it, since even people who do watch Neo Yokio don’t understand it. In fact, I think it will be even funnier if you don’t watch Neo Yokio at all before watching Pink Christmas (but I encourage everyone to watch the series too, just because it’s more of the same insanity.)
Every line in it is pure comedic gold, not because it’s truly funny, but because it’s absurd and ridiculous in a way only Jaden Smith can be. I quote it incessantly while eating a Toblerone every year. 
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Cabin Pressure at Christmas: Molokai: Okay, it’s not a movie or even a TV special, but I love Cabin Pressure so much that I had to include this too. Cabin Pressure is a comedy radio show (not a podcast, an actual radio show) that aired on BBC Radio 4 in the early 2000s about an airline crew for the world’s shittiest airplane. 
For anyone who watched season 2 of Good Omens, you might recognize the name John Finnemore as one of the writers. Well, Cabin Pressure is made by (and stars) the same person. The Christmas episode is one of my favorites of the series, and you 100% don’t need to listen to the entire series to enjoy it. It captures the humor and despair of being stuck with your co-workers on Christmas eve, but it keeps up the spirit regardless. This is another one I quote incessantly, and the whole show has become hardwired into my personality. PLEASE FIND A WAY TO LISTEN TO CABIN PRESSURE! I’m pretty sure the whole series is available on iTunes as an audiobook.
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As honorable mentions, I want to include Rise of the Guardians and Klaus, because even though they have a fair amount of popularity, I still feel like people could appreciate them more. And sure, Rise of the Guardians might be more of an Easter movie, but it still includes Santa as a character, and he’s amazing. 
That's all for now. Sorry these are all specifically Christmas themed, but if anyone has movie suggestions for other winter holidays, please throw them in!
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trickphotography2 · 15 days ago
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'tis the damn season | Epilogue II
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Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Julie/Cece (OC, no physical description)
Word count: 4K
Synopsis: After six years away from home, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin finally went home to make his parents happy and surprise his family by spending Christmas in Magnolia, Texas. Introducing his 'pregnant' fiancee to his family was a culture clash, with rural Texas meeting California influencer. But when the truth came out, he turned to his high school sweetheart and the one that got away, Julie.
After getting married and having twins, the Jake and Julie are ready to spend Christmas together and relax.
Epilogue | Master List | Ao3
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Epilogue II
Car doors slammed and Cece froze, french fry suspended in mid-air. Shoving the food in her mouth, she slid off the counter and crept toward the bay window in the living room, stepping over discarded toys and books. The sight of her husband leaning into the back seat of his truck usually made her happy, but today, she groaned, eyes fluttering closed with exhaustion. “Shit,” she breathed, forcing her eyes open and rushing back into the kitchen. Another curse fell from her lips when she stepped on a Barbie hair brush, the plastic bristles embedding in her sock. Hopping on one foot, she dislodged it and tossed the offending toy away. 
The front door opened, and the usual chaotic sounds of backpacks and jackets hitting the floor rang out. It covered the crinkling of the bag holding her half-eaten lunch and the muffled snap of the walk-in pantry door shutting when she darted inside. Not daring to turn on the light, she moved a few steps inside and collapsed onto the floor. “Take off your shoes!” Jake called.
“Mama! We home!” 
“Mama!”
“Mama!”
“Mama, where ARE you?”
“Yeah, where is Mama?” Jake asked. 
As the three-year-old twins' voices drew closer, Cece hoped the childproof doorknob cover would continue to confuse them. But, knowing her luck, this would be the day her snack-fiend little ones would accomplish the difficult task of squeezing and twisting. As much as she loved her children, it had been a long day - hell, a long week - at the bakery in the lead-up to Christmas, to the point that she couldn't stop to eat.
So yes, hiding in the pantry from her children wasn’t her proudest parenting moment, but damn it, she was hungry and wanted to eat her chicken and fries in relative peace and comfort. Sitting on the floor made her aching feet feel better, though the cold floor was killing her back. It had never quite recovered after her pregnancy - not that a job where she was constantly on her feet made it any better. 
A chiming noise startled her, and she swiped the fry grease onto her flour-dusted legging before grabbing her phone. Cece groaned at the picture on the screen: her drink with a prominent fast food logo on the cup. Wanna explain, Mrs. Seresin? So close to dinner?
Don’t rat me out, and I’ll give you a chicken tender
Deal
Cece bit her lip to keep from laughing at the speed of his reply. From the other side of the door, she heard a clap. “I wonder if Mama’s taking a nap?”
“Yeah!” Liam said.
“Naps are for babies,” Abby huffed.
“Naps are for tired parents and growing kiddos,” he countered. “Now, we have to be very quiet in case she is sleeping, alright?”
“Shhhh,” Liam shushed loudly.
“Right. Now, where would Mama take a nap? The bathtub?” 
“No!” the twins giggled. 
“Really? Mama took naps in the bathtub when we were in college. Wanna go check?” The sound of running was the only response, followed by a cautious, “Be careful - and don’t wake Mama up!”
The pantry opened quickly, allowing her the briefest glimpse of a silhouette before shutting. The sound of callouses on the wall was her only warning before the overhead light turned on. Clapping a hand to her eyes, Cece heard a deep chuckle and peeked through her fingers to see a sight for sore eyes: Jake crouching in front of her, his green eyes crinkling with suppressed laughter. When her hand dropped, he lifted her cup to his mouth, sipping from the straw. “I only slept in the bathtub once.” 
The unexpected words made him choke on the soda, and he cleared his throat before setting the cup beside her. “Your 21st was pretty memorable, from what I heard,” he agreed. Carefully lowering his bad knee to the floor, he planted a hand beside her hip and curved the other around her cheek. 
Jake still smiled every time he kissed her. 
Cece’s eyes fluttered closed, eyelashes dusting the tops of her cheeks. The tension drained from her body when their noses brushed. His forehead pressed against hers, and her hand curled around the back of his neck, tangling in the short hairs. “Hey, Cupcake.”  
“Hi,” she breathed. 
“Another long day?” Sighing, she nodded, trying - and failing - to open her eyes. “Almost over, at least.”
“Thank god. Remind me to hire more staff next year.”
“Will you listen to me next time or tell me the same thing you did this year?” The thinly veiled ‘told you so’ was motivation enough to open one eye and half-heartedly glare. Jake’s whispered suggestion that she bring on holiday staff had been dismissed whenever he brought it up. Even though the coffee shop/bakery was doing well, increasing payroll - even temporarily - still felt risky when she could handle the work with her usual crew. But the volume of sales and orders kept increasing, and she’d returned to work multiple times after putting the twins to bed to prep for the following day. 
Chuckling, he leaned forward to kiss her again. “You’re a meanie-head,” she muttered, using their son’s favorite insult. He laughed against her mouth, pulling away to run his thumb lightly over the dark circles under her eyes. 
“Well, this ‘meanie-head’ misses you. You have to go back - ”
“Daddy!”
“Where he go?”
Small hands slapped the pantry door, and they both bit back a groan. “Maybe if we’re really quiet, they’ll go away,” Cece whispered. That hope quickly went out the window when the pounding continued, joined by the spinning of the child lock on the knob and a thud.
“Hey!” Jake snapped. “You better not be kicking my doors.” The pounding stopped immediately. “Go sit on the couch. Daddy’ll be there in a minute.” The twins loudly made their way out of the kitchen as Cece smothered her laughter at their childish grumbling, resting her head on his shoulder. “They get that from you,” he huffed.
“Excuse me! You’re the one who punches trees.”
“Not for years.” 
“Thank god. We know how it ended the last time you did.”
“Pretty sure it ended with you kissing me.” Wrapping her fingers in the collar of his flight suit, she kissed him again. 
“Who would have thought we’d be hiding in the pantry six years later?” 
“Who woulda thought,” he agreed. “Now, I think you owe me a chicken tender, Mrs. Seresin.” Groaning, her head tipped back, and she smiled when Jake’s mouth gravitated to the hinge of her jaw.
“Any chance you’d be willing to exchange a tender for something else, Lieutenant Commander Seresin?”
“What’d you have in mind?”
“Gift wrapping tonight, then maybe…” her fingers skated down his front, toying with the zipper tab. 
“Bedtime can’t come soon enough,” he murmured before crushing his lips to hers. She didn’t notice his hand sneaking into the bag at her hip until he pulled away and clamped a fry between his teeth. Reaching behind her, he grabbed two juice boxes from the shelf and pushed to his feet. “Enjoy your contraband. I’ll keep them distracted for a bit.”
With a wink, he walked out of the pantry. Greeted by the squeals of the kids, he quickly closed the door, hiding her from view.
A loud moan burst from her mouth, and Cece turned to stifle it in her arm. Jake chuckled from where he knelt between her thighs, hands closing around her waist when she pushed back against him. “Feel good, baby?” A whimper and nod were her response, and he grinned, planting a fist in the mattress by her shoulder and brushing aside her shower-dampened hair to kiss the back of her neck. Cracking one eye open, she smiled sleepily at him.
“Harder.” 
“I feel like I’m gonna break your back if I go harder,” he said, shifting back onto his knees and resting his hands on the swell of his wife’s ass.
“You won’t,” she assured him, wiggling slightly to invite him to return his hands to where she wanted them. After a moment, she felt his thumbs digging into her lower back and moaned again. Pregnancy had destroyed her back, and - contrary to what the doctors said - it wasn’t getting better on its own. After spending a small fortune on massages, Jake started watching videos online and offered to do them. 
“It’s the least I can do,” he’d teased before the first one, his touch light and unsure. “Especially after you did all the work to have them both look like me.” 
Cece hoped the massages wouldn’t stop after her MRI in January. 
Goosebumps erupted on her skin when his fingers grazed the curve of her breast as his hands moved higher, thumbs running parallel to her spine. The bed dipped as he moved to her side, and Cece lifted her head to rest on her folded arms. Through half-lidded eyes, she watched him work; his brows furrowed with concentration as he soothed her aching muscles. As much as she loved the attention from her husband, it was bittersweet. She knew he felt some misplaced sense of guilt over her body not bouncing back after delivering the twins, and he was well aware of her reluctance to discuss having any more kids until they figured out what was wrong. Living off of over-the-counter painkillers and dealing with tingling in her arms and fingers wasn’t fun, and he hated thinking about the night her pain had flared up so badly that he’d had to carry her into the emergency room while Phoenix and Rooster sat with the twins. 
Cece hated that it sometimes felt like she was edging closer to eighty than in her thirties and that she couldn’t play with her kids as much as she wanted to without feeling it the next day. But not a single part of her would have changed it if it meant being without Abigail and Liam. She loved talking to them about their day at ‘school’ - the daycare on base that they were fortunate enough to get spots in - and everything they learned that day. Kneeling by the tub and watching the epic stories they created with their toys. The weight of them crawling into their bed after waking up in the middle of the night, fingers tangling in her hair, and the odd elbow, knee, or foot nudging her, echoing their movements when she’d carried them.
But most of all, Cece loved seeing Jake as a father. Having witnessed the Seresin men parent for years, it shouldn’t have been surprising that he took to it like a duck to water. He had been there for every midnight feeding, helping to juggle the babies on the nursing pillow and cooing as they burped or spit up. There was no judgment when she couldn’t hold them when it came time for shots, and she fell in love with him just a little more when she saw the tears gleaming in Jake’s eyes as their children wailed after every injection. The way he sought her out after having to mete out punishment, curling up in her lap and regretting making their little lips wobble and tears spill down their cheeks as he dissected every word made her want to laugh and cry and hold him. 
“Will’s the same way with the boys,” Ally had once told her. “He hates punishing them and thinks they’ll hate him forever, no matter how many times I tell him they’ll forget about the time out or getting sent to bed without dessert. He thinks he’s traumatizing them.” 
And Abigail… she was a force to be reckoned with. Older by fourteen minutes, she was well aware of her status as the firstborn and had inherited generations of Seresin bull-headedness. When Cece had remarked on this to her mother-in-law, Mama Seresin had only laughed. “Your mama and daddy come from a long line of stubborn folks, too, Julie. My granddaughter comes by it honest from her grandparents AND her parents.” 
Liam, though… Liam was her sweet boy, who loved to cuddle with her. A true mama’s boy, he broke his daddy’s heart every time he pushed out of his arms and reached for her. On nights she worked late, Cece would inevitably get a call from her son, tears on his face as he begged her to come home. It bothered Jake how quickly the switch would flip - if she wasn’t home, Liam was fine. But when it came time for bed, or she was in sight, Liam wanted nothing to do with his father. Will had assured him that it was expected - Tyler had gone through the same thing, and Kevin was in the same stage - but it was cold comfort. 
“Keep goin’, and I’m gonna fall asleep,” Cece yawned. Jake chuckled, pulling away when she rolled onto her side. Lifting a heavy arm, she slung it over his shoulders and tugged him down. His lips were soft as he settled between her thighs, and she pushed down his shorts. Jake’s cock sprung free, and she took him in hand. He grunted, smirking against her mouth.
“Definitely worth a chicken tender.” That startled a laugh out of her, which choked off when he thrust into her. “Miss you, baby.”
“Holiday rush is almost over,” she panted as he rocked against her. 
Afterward, she snuck into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and glasses while Jake grabbed the wrapping paper and gifts. And, as they wrapped presents, they caught up on each other’s day and traded kisses. Tipsy and tired, she giggled while pulling off her shirt and pressing two bows to her nipples, posing when her husband grabbed his phone and snapped a picture.
Thankfully, everything was hidden away when little hands opened the bedroom door. Jake lifted the twins into bed when Abby poked him awake, forfeiting his time to spoon with his wife. Instead, he cuddled his daughter to his chest as Liam starfished over his mother, his towhead tucked under her chin and fingers tangling in her shirt.
“Squeeze gently,” Cece cautioned, then bit her lip when a glob of green frosting burst out of the piping bag. 
“Beautiful,” Jake snickered. Liam beamed at his dad before setting aside the bag and rearranging the frosting with his finger.
“Definitely a cookie for Santa,” she said, watching Jake’s smile drop just a fraction. He was responsible for eating Santa’s cookies. Eating anything sweet after taste-testing her products for weeks turned Cece’s stomach. 
“Daddy, look!” Abby said before dumping almost an entire container of sprinkles onto her cookie. Thankfully, the paper plate caught most of them, but the rest rained down on the table, bouncing and hitting the floor. 
“Looks like another Santa cookie!” Shooting his wife a look, Jake started to sweep up the sprinkles from the table while Cece grabbed the broom. Having the kids decorate cookies on Christmas Eve was always more fun in theory than practice. 
After dictating letters to Santa and a spectacular sea battle in the bathtub that left all the Seresins soaked, it was bedtime. The twins shared a room, and Liam pulled Cece into his bed while Abby and Jake grabbed three books. The twin bed was a tight squeeze for the four of them, and Jake had to keep a foot on the floor to keep from falling out. 
The twins were asleep by the end of the Polar Express, and he moved Abby to her bed while Cece carefully extracted herself from Liam’s grasp. Together, they tiptoed out of the room, splitting off at the kitchen. “What time do you want to put the stuff out?” Jake asked, walking into the living room and offering her a glass of water. Lying on his stomach with his head resting on her chest, he tucked his head under her chin, shivering with pleasure when Cece’s fingers carded in his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp. One arm dangled from the side of the couch while the other loosely wrapped around her, eyes drifting closed.  
“Maybe an hour? That way, they’re really asleep and before they come into our room.”
“You think we’ll ever get our bed back to ourselves?”
“Not for a few years,” she smirked.  
He was silent for a long moment, then sighed. “‘M gonna miss this when I deploy.”
“Me too.” The notice had hit his inbox a few weeks ago, and he’d told her as soon as the kids were in bed. While he’d gone on a few short missions since their birth, this would be the first time he would be gone for an extended period. “It’s only three months.”
“A long three months.”
“It’s what? A couple weeks longer than a semester?” She asked, lifting a shoulder. “We’ve done longer than that.”
“What if the kids forget about me?” His eyes shot open when Cece flicked the tip of his nose. 
“Please. They won’t forget about you because you’re away for a few months.” Catching her hand, he ran his thumb along her wedding band as her nails lightly scratched the back of his neck. 
“They might.”
“Not gonna happen.” 
“They’re little, and their memories aren’t that good.”
“Three months isn’t enough time to erase three years. Your kids aren’t going to forget you.” 
“Are you gonna be okay?” That made her pause for a heartbeat.
“I’ll miss you.”
“You’re gonna be outnumbered.”
“It’ll be easier than when they were both in diapers.”
“I’m thinking of dropping my papers.” Cece’s movements froze as she blinked down at the crown of his head, eyebrows nearly reaching her hair. “I just… I don’t want to lose my family to the Navy. Not again.”
Shaking off his hold, her palm rasped on his stubble as she encouraged him to meet her soft gaze. Worry creased his brow, the Christmas tree lights twinkling in his solemn green eyes. “You won’t, Farm Boy. I promise you - Abby, Liam, and I will be here waiting for you to come home.” 
“I worry - ”
“I know you do,” she cut him off. “And I love you for it. But we’ll be okay. Let’s… let’s talk about dropping your papers in the New Year if you’re really thinking about it.”
“I am.”
“Alright. I just…” her teeth dug into her lower lip momentarily before clearing her throat. “I don’t want you makin’ a hasty decision after all of the work you put in without giving us a chance to prove that we can do it.” When he opened his mouth to reply, Cece placed her finger over his lips. “The New Year.”
Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, he pushed onto his hands and kissed her, licking into her mouth. Time seemed to slow as they made out on the couch like teenagers, the couch feeling just slightly larger than his truck cab in high school. 
And, after putting the presents under the tree and stuffing the stockings, Jake flipped the lock on their bedroom door after pressing his wife against it, fingers delving into her panties to find her wet. 
Not even an hour later, small hands hitting wood woke them, accompanied by sleepy cries for Mama. Pausing only long enough to pull on his boxers and toss Cece her clothes, he crossed the room and unlocked the door. The twins stumbled in, Abby raising her arms for him to lift her while Liam rubbed his eyes and ambled toward his mother’s outstretched arms. “C’mere baby,” Cece cooed. 
“Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas!” the kids screeched as the call connected, and they caught sight of their grandparents. Nursing her second cup of coffee and nibbling on another orange cranberry scone, Cece smiled at her in-laws. After saying their hellos, the grandparents focused on their grandchildren, making appreciative noises at everything they tried to share while talking over one another. 
Setting aside his second plate of French toast casserole, Jake acted as a cameraman as Liam showed off his new dinosaurs and Hot Wheels, and Abby her baby dolls and dress-up clothes.
Thankfully, the only knitted baby blanket this year had been addressed to Abby for her toys.  
Will and Ally were at the main house, and Jake and Cece caught sight of them as the phone was passed around. Ty and Kev took their turn showing off their presents, and the four cousins talked over one another. 
But then Bill took the phone and cleared his throat. “Your Granny and I got you kids a present. I need you to put on your boots and jacket so we can go see it.”
“What’d you get, Pops?” Jake asked, shooting a look at his wife.
“Just something for them to enjoy whenever y’all come out. Keep ‘em distracted while we paint the house.” The bi-annual house painting was scheduled for the summer, not too long after Jake was to get home from the deployment. They’d already decided to take time off and drive home on a road trip, partly to allow themselves to explore and partly to save on the expense of flying the four out and renting a car.
Once the family was bundled up and the twins settled in their parents' laps, Bill led them outside to the barn. Jake bit his tongue, having a pretty good idea of the gift. The camera shook as Bill told his grandsons to stay back before passing it off to Mama Seresin.
And there, standing in the last stall with its head peeking out, was a spotted Appaloosa. She stuck out on a farm that mainly bred Quarterhorses and American Paints. “Horsie!” Abby squealed, bouncing in Jake’s lap as he ran a hand down his face. 
“Pops.”
“You got them a horse?” Will huffed. 
“She’s beautiful!” Ally sighed. 
“Broken for riding already,” Bill said proudly, striding closer and petting her forelock. “Her last owners said she loved kids and taught theirs how to ride.” Ty and Kevin got closer, each holding one of Will’s hands.
“How big is she?” Cece asked.
“Just under 15 hands,” Mama Seresin answered. “And sweet as can be. Don’t worry, Julie - the twins will be in good hands with her.”
And they were. When summer came, the Seresin grandchildren took turns riding Nutmeg. Abby and Liam were only slightly behind their cousins in riding lessons and would have stayed in the barn all day if allowed. 
So when Jake saddled up two horses, handing Abby up to Cece, and settled his son in front of him, the twins held tight to the saddle horns and grinned excitedly. After months of physical therapy, Cece was feeling better than ever with her back pain - multiple bulging disks right where her uterus had pulled on her spine - finally being addressed. “Ready?” he asked, looking back at his wife, who nodded and adjusted Abby’s little cowgirl hat on her head. The ride across the ranch was slower; both parents worried about kids bouncing out of saddles, but it was still enjoyable. Liam, who had clung to Jake after he got home, asked a million questions as they rode. 
Under his favorite tree on the property, Cece laid out a picnic she’d packed while Jake tumbled in the high grass with the kids. When called to eat, he sat beside his wife and listened to her story about running into Betty Roberts in the grocery store. He was positive that there was some new story about them running through Magnolia. There were plans to have dinner with Lucy and her family and to stop by the firehouse to introduce the kids to some of Brian’s friends. 
And, of course, they needed to visit her parents.
On their last night in Magnolia, they sat on the front porch swing, watching the twins chase fireflies with their cousins. With his eyes drooping closed and his wife’s head resting on his shoulder, he sighed contentedly.
“Hmm?” Cece hummed. 
“Nothin’,” Jake replied. “Just thinkin’ about how happy I am to be home.” 
---------------------------------------
Author's Note: I couldn't *not* revisit Jake and Julie at Christmas. I credit @tgmreader for encouraging me to continue writing these two. I had fun going back through the fic and pulling out reminders of my favorite scenes (such as Jake being comforted by Cece on the couch, and having Liam sleep the same way).
I definitely pulled the back pain part from my friend's experience with it after having her twins.
Happy (belated) Christmas to those who celebrate!
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