#going :))) through all i want for christmas is you clip too....imagine. & i want a christmas extravaganza kazoo hell yeah lol

[unproduciblesmackdown]

xmas night 1 / fri 11pm posts from sydney lipez / syd10801

[the-californicationist]

The False Alarm

TF141+/Reader TW: gangbang --- MDNI/18+ AO3 Link

Cleaning a long, hard pole was slippery business, and at your fire station, it was a particularly dangerous job. You had to be small enough to fit into the harness, but strong enough to self-belay, shining the gleaming gold rod as you traveled downward, repelling to the floor. 

So, imagine your frustration when you were left to clean by yourself while the rest of the house responded to a three alarm fire. You tried to make quick work of it, but there was a lot of pole to tend to, and you didn’t want to miss a spot. A dirty pole was bad news for everyone who needed to ride it. Safety first. 

It was all going pretty well until you neared the end of your job. You were about to lower yourself to the last section, your feet nearly able to touch the ground when you lost your grip on the rope attached to your harness. The clip liked to jam, so you tried to get it unstuck, but you realized pretty quickly that it was solidly knotted against you. You weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. To make matters worse, you were leaning at an odd angle, having tried to reach down to grab the radio that had been knocked to the ground when you lost the rope. But, it was flung too far, and you quickly discovered that it was way out of your grasp. At this point, you looked like a Christmas ornament, hanging loosely in your harness, swaying slightly around the pole. The only thing to do now was wait.

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long for help. The three alarm fire had been a false one, and all of the men had returned rambunctious but unharmed. Your boyfriend, Captain John Price, was the first one through every door, and he was the one who discovered you in your trapped state. His eyes lit up in shock, and you heard his gravelly laugh as he approached you. Behind him, Sergeant Johnny MacTavish and his Lieutenant, Simon Riley, began to strip their gear for Gaz, the firehouse quartermaster. They were laughing right along with Price, jeering at you in your trussed up position.

Price spun you around toward him, and you came face to face with his bulging zipper. You were at the perfect height, staring right at his crotch, and he had to bend down to look you in the eye,

“In a bit of a predicament, pretty girl?”

You weren’t sure you liked his tone. It was lurid and suggestive, especially in front of his men. 

“Latch is stuck. I’ve been telling you to replace it.”

“Which one?” He knelt underneath you to fiddle with the harness, “This one?”

He tugged at the rope and moved it between your legs, purposefully shoving it out of alignment. 

“John!” You hissed, feeling the thick rope, as big around as one of his fingers, slip across your cotton pants and into the crease of your pussy, rubbing along your clit mercilessly. 

“Mmm, I kinda like you like this, love. Might have to make you a permanent fixture. What d’you say?”

“Get me down, babe. Please?” You resorted to begging. It didn’t help.

“Oy!” He whistled loudly, “Come look what we caught on the line today, boys.”

All six of the other firefighters sauntered over to you, jeering and laughing. 

“Wee lass is truly stuck?” MacTavish asked.

“Aye, look,” Simon smiled, showing him the latch, “She used the old clamp.”

As he stuck his finger underneath it, it tugged on the rope next to your clit, making you writhe.

Gaz laughed behind them, bending over from his glee,

“Ha! Guess the captain didn’t tell you he bought a new one.”

“Count your blessings, compa,” Vargas grinned, clapping a hand over Price’s shoulder, “Maybe we should leave you two here, hm?”

“I was about to dig into Johnny’s homemade chili, but now I’m hungry for something else,” Alex crossed his arms and shook his head as if in disbelief. 

You tried to look to Price for some guidance. The boys flirted a lot, but it was mostly harmless. This felt… different somehow. There was something predatory in their stares that made your body feel like it was ablaze.  

Price ran a finger along the rope that now stretched between your asscheeks and through the folds of your pussy, biting into your pants. 

“Shouldn’t let such a bloody good opportunity go to waste, huh, lads?” Price’s voice sounded like an invitation, and you felt all the air get sucked out of the room. 

You were parallel to the ground; face down, ass up, right in front of all of them. You were trapped, surrounded by seven enormous men, and all you could see were their legs from their belt buckles to their boots. You knew who they were; you’d been friends for years, after all, but it didn’t feel so friendly now. You felt like their prey. 

You watched Price kneel beneath you. He smiled sweetly at you and whispered,

“You trust me, pretty girl?”

You nodded, and brought your hands up around his neck to kiss him. His mouth melted into yours, sending static tingles of pleasure though the rest of your body. He kept kissing you while his men stood around you, watching like dogs as Price literally dangled their treat in front of them. 

Then, he pulled away, standing up in front of you. You felt his fingers digging under the bottom of your shirt hem, and he tugged off your tee shirt, exposing your body to his team. Your breasts were contained only by a thin cotton bralette, and at this angle, they hung away from you as you swayed in your harness. 

Price took the bra off of you and bent to suckle from your nipples, licking and biting them gently to make you moan with sharp desire. You suddenly felt a hand that wasn’t his on your ass cheek and you gasped. Price chuckled, fondling your breasts with his huge, callused hands, teasing you,

“Are you shy, baby? It’s just MacTavish. You know he gets handsy.”

“Sorry, lass,” you heard the Scot behind you as he squeezed your ass and thighs, pulling them apart from your center, “Couldnae resist. Look good enough to eat.”

“Dig in, Sergeant,” Price offered you up like an appetizer, and tossed Johnny his emergency shears. 

Your eyes went wide, 

“John! My –”

“I’ll buy you another pair, love. Now, let’s give you something else to do with that mouth, why don’t we?”

You felt the cold metal of the blunt shears as Johnny cut across your waistband and down the crease between your legs, letting the shears do the work for him. He knelt to slice around to the front and then pulled your pant legs off of you, leaving you hanging there in nothing but your flimsy thong. 

He situated the rope back into position between your thigh and groin so that it wouldn’t bite into you, and then you felt his mouth. You groaned loudly. You couldn’t help it. It felt like heaven to have him licking and sucking at your tender flesh, writhing his tongue into your already soaking hole. 

“Listen to that sound. So damn pretty,” Price pet you on your cheek and stuck his thumb into your open mouth as you keened, the pleasure building within you like a smoldering blaze. 

You heard his buckle rattle open, and the whine of his zipper led to the quick release of his cock, hard and smooth. He pressed his head to your lips and you kissed it gently, licking around its crown hungrily. Unwilling to waste any time, he pushed into your mouth, rubbing himself deep enough to touch the back of your throat. You listened to his delicious moans and tried to take him in as much as his girth would allow. 

Then, MacTavish added a finger, stretching the walls of your pussy with it ever so gently, and you felt yourself starting to come. You were shocked by it, and it overwhelmed you so suddenly you knew that you were in for a turbulent storm of pleasure. 

“Oh, fuck, tha’s it, love. Come for us,” Price commanded, “Such a good girl.”

Your whole body trembled, unable to press or brace against anything as you hung suspended, and you heard Johnny moaning as he felt you contract with pleasure, listening to the muffled screams he was pulling from you as you were trapped around the captain’s cock. 

Price’s hand fisted your hair, guiding you down, grunting with each thrust. Then, he removed himself, stepping around to the side of you and placing one of your hands on his wet shaft. You started jacking him off, confused until you saw another pair of boots below your face. 

It was Alex.

Price’s hand was still in your hair, and you felt your face being lifted up to view Alex’s long cock. He let it rest against your cheek, its warmth teasing you in a surprisingly comforting way. You used your tongue to lick up and down his generous length. 

Alex moaned, 

“Fuck… No wonder you rush home from work, Captain. Holy shit.”

Price chuckled, releasing your hair so that Alex could do as he pleased with you, 

“She’s bloody brilliant, aye?”

You felt something tugging your body backward, and you knew Johnny had moved beneath you because his mouth was punishing your clit, making you want to come again. You moaned around Alex, making him cry out as well from the feeling. 

Then, you felt the tell-tale prod of someone’s cock nestling itself against your wet hole. Surprised, you tried to pull away from Alex to look behind you. Alex grabbed your head before you did, though and forced your mouth back down,

“Shh, shh, shh. It’s okay, sugar. It’s just Garrick. Lookin’ like he’s gonna die if he doesn’t get to fuck you right this goddamn second. Ain’t that right, Gaz?”

“Fuckin’ right,” Gaz grumbled, feeding himself into you as Johnny ate you out. 

You thought you might die from the pleasure. You came around him as he entered you, forcing him to stop. You were bearing down so hard that you thought you might accidentally wet yourself. You tried to get it under control, riding wave after wave of your orgasm as Johnny sucked your folds and fondled your clit. 

“Tha’s beautiful, lass. Your poor wee cunt doesnae ken what to make of all this, hm?” 

“She’s being such a good girl, Cap. Takin’ me so well,” Gaz crooned, reaching forward to rest his big hands on your hips as he began to thrust in earnest. 

Every time he pushed you forward, you would swallow deeper onto Alex’s cock, and Johnny’s tongue would rush through your folds and across your clit.

Suddenly, your other hand was being given a task to complete. It was Alejandro. He had taken your hand in his and bent to kiss your knuckles, soft and sweet as if you were a princess. Then, he let it rest on top of his uncut cockhead, allowing you to find a similar rhythm for him as you had for Price, rubbing his rod as steadily as you could manage. 

Alex increased his pace, grunting like an animal as he fucked himself into your throat. Price encouraged him,

“Don’t feed it to her, Keller. She wants it in that sweet cunt of hers, don’t you, pretty girl?”

You felt Gaz and Alex pull away from you at the same time, and you gasped, agonized by the hollowness that you were experiencing. Then, a warm hand braced against your ass cheek, squeezing you fiercely, and Alex pressed himself in where Gaz had been steadily putting in the work. 

The new sensation of another man’s cock was incredible, and with Johnny eating you like he was starving, you had no trouble coming with Alex as he pounded himself into you mercilessly. His guttural screams were tantalizing, and you wished you could see his face. 

“Fuck! Oh, my God – Fuck!” Alex grunted through gritted teeth, holding onto your body as tight as he could, filling you full of his come.

As he fell away from you, Gaz replaced him, getting back to his mission dutifully and with renewed vigor, slipping through the other man’s come easily. Johnny moved up your body, kissing your belly, sucking on your skin, finding your nipples as they jiggled while Garrick was fucking himself into you, and you watched someone new come up to your face. 

Simon bent down to kiss you, biting your lip and tasting his friends on your tongue. He licked your neck, sucking on the skin hard enough to leave a bruise. He joined Johnny at your breasts, suckling from the opposite one as the eager sergeant. 

Just as you were being lulled into an orgasmic trance from their ministrations, you felt Gaz shudder. He came breathlessly, gasping out quiet moans and little yeses and pleases and wordless prayers as he started to spill out into you. His cock reached further than Alex’s, and you felt a different sort of fullness as he held himself inside of you, throbbing against your cervix, tickling the entrance to your womb. 

You felt his plump lips leave a trail of kisses along your bare back, and then he pulled away from you, letting his and Alex’s come drip onto the concrete floor below you. 

Simon and Johnny stood, each taking their place at your throat and your pussy, entering you at the same time and letting out similar groans of agonizing pleasure. Johnny was stuffing himself into your cunt, and Simon was dragging his cock down your throat, going much deeper than you had ever taken anyone before. 

MacTavish was almost too thick, and he had to stretch you more than Gaz or Alex. He wasn’t particularly long, but he was curved in just the right way, and you started to scream, muffled by Simon’s dick in your mouth. 

It made Simon wild. He spoke to his sergeant in staccato’d bursts, 

“Fuck, Johnny. Just like that, mate. Makin’ her scream around me. Feels so fuckin’ good.”

“She’s so tight, Si. Shite! I’m gonna come so fast,” MacTavish groaned, pulling your ass cheeks apart as he fucked you, watching your asshole gape open as he did, “God, Cap. How do you last?”

Your captain chuckled darkly, petting your breasts as they swung freely, 

“I fuckin’ don’t, mate.”

Johnny was now sheathed in your pussy to his hilt, grinding into you rather than pounding, almost as if he was massaging your walls from the inside, making you feel so full. His hand found your clit that he’d been punishing, and he used your own fluids to smear lazy circles around and around. 

You could feel your legs begin to shake involuntarily. You tried to stop it, gripping onto Alejandro and Price for dear life in your hands, and crying out around Simon’s cock in your throat for relief. 

All four of the men were noisy now, basking in your rolling pleasure, watching you writhe and tense beneath them. Gaz returned to you, kneeling down to lick your breasts, sucking on them harder than Johnny did, taking more of your flesh into his mouth. 

Gaz looked up at your face, stuffed full of Simon’s cock, and he talked to you even though you couldn’t respond, drool dripping out of the sides of your lips,

“Are you havin’ a good time, babe? You’re so damn pretty. Look at these gorgeous fuckin’ tits.”

The way he was sucking on them was so intense that you felt yourself clench hard around Johnny, hearing him moan. 

He slapped your ass, grunting,

“Fuck! Again. Do it again, lass.”

You tried to oblige, bearing down on him and squeezing with all of your might. 

“Yes, yes, yes, gonna make me come - fuck!”

Johnny grabbed ahold of your harness and threw himself into you at a breakneck pace, the fluids inside of your core splattering you and him as he crushed himself into you. Simon pulled out of you, commanding you,

“That’s right. Scream for it. I wanna hear you.”

You let out a long, trembling whine, and then, 

“Oh, fuuuuckkkkk…”

Johnny ground himself into you again, painting your pussy with his come. There was so much of it that you could feel it now, settling in your belly. 

The sergeant pulled himself out of you with a slick pop, and bent to lick his own come off of your folds. You screamed again, feeling as if you would be shoved into another wild orgasm if he kept it up. But, then, Simon came to your rescue, grumbling, 

“Out of the way, mate.” 

Simon moved into place behind you, grabbing Johnny by his mohawk and shoving him back, and hungrily rubbed his cock through your ass checks, massaging himself. Alejandro took his position at your mouth and used you easily. Simon had done a good job of getting you used to his roughness when he fucked your throat, and his treatment of your cunt was no different. Johnny had been big, but he was a lamb compared to the lion taking you from behind now. 

Simon had pulled your legs around his waist, holding you in place there, and he was eager to fuck you hard. You felt your bones rattle as he slammed his length into you, making the most animalistic sounds as he did so. 

“Tha’s how she likes it, innit, Captain? Like a dirty little slag,” Simon observed, able to feel how your walls fluttered around him, excited and anticipatory.

Price smiled down at you, and you could see his hand leave your breast and search for your ass. He grabbed your ass cheek and pulled it away until your hole was wide open for him, and he used his thick finger to tease you within an inch of your life. You were transported to another dimension of pleasure, and he knew exactly how to turn you on.

“This is how she likes it, Simon. All her pretty holes filled.”

“We can do tha’, can’t we? Proper stuffed.” Simon laughed, understanding what you liked and fully happy to give it to you. 

Price removed his hand and Simon replaced it, spitting into his fingers and rubbing two of them just inside of your asshole, stretching you out. He then put them deeper in and pressed downward, feeling his own cock through the thin membrane between your two holes, groaning in a deeper, darker tone.  

Alejandro got your attention then by holding himself inside of your throat for a three-count, and then a five-count, and then for a period of time when you lost count. You were choking so much that your body was convulsing, and as he ripped his cock from your throat, rivulets of drool fell out of your mouth and onto the concrete. 

“A la chingada! Dame tu boca, mi linda.” Fuck it! Give me your mouth, pretty one. Alejandro lamented, kneeling in front of you and kissing you through your mess of spit and drool. He smiled and stood again, rubbing his wet cock all over the outside of your face, making you sticky with his precome and with your own fluids. 

He gave you just the head of his dick and you swirled your tongue around it, suckling from it like it would feed you, and he cried out in pleasure,

“Fuck! Are you gonna come or not, pendejo? ‘Cause I need to.” 

Simon didn’t answer. He just fucked you even harder. It was as if he had been holding back this entire time. He grabbed your hair and forced your body to arch high into the air, pounding into you with wet, slapping noises and grunting over your screams. You couldn’t continue rubbing Price’s cock, nor were you able to suck Alejandro’s head. You were at Simon’s demonic mercy. 

He came without halting. He fucked you right through his own pleasure, listening to you moan and feeling you bearing down around him, pushing his seed as deep into you as it would go. When he finally let go of your hair and removed himself from you, it felt like he was taking your insides with him. You felt so empty, it made you whine. 

“Shh, shh. I know, love,” Price soothed you, moving to your face to kiss you and lick your neck, “You’re doing so good. You ready for me, hm?”

“I need you so bad, John,” you told him through pleasure-wrought tears. 

“I know, baby. I know. Be a good girl for me.”

You nodded, feeling Alejandro push himself through Simon’s wet spend. It only took a few thrusts for him to coat your walls as well. There was so much come in you, your belly felt swollen. 

Finally, it was the captain’s turn. You and he were alone at the pole, and you felt him cut your rope in one quick slice. He caught you before you fell, holding you to him, knowing you couldn’t stand on your trembling legs. He lifted you up and made you turn to face the group of men who had just finished pleasuring you. They were all in states of undress, panting and laying on the firetruck or on the ground. Simon was jacking off again, as was Alex, thoroughly enjoying the show. 

Price fucked you like this, holding your body in front of him, letting you face his team as he struggled to fit himself into you. You had forgotten how big he was compared to normal men. Your eyes reflected your shock. Encouraged, the men began to stir, despite their exhaustion, nearly every one of them had his cock in his hand. 

You felt yourself come again, no warning this time, and Price let out a long, threatening growl,

“You are so fuckin’ beautiful, love. Did so good for us. Takin’ my men so well. I knew you could do it. Good girl. Such a fuckin’ good girl. My fuckin’ girl. Whose cock do you like best, baby?”

“Yours, John,” you cried out. 

“Whose?” He demanded, shouting at you through gritted teeth.

“Yours! Yours. Yours.” You chanted, feeling him begin to pulse inside of you. 

“Tha’s fuckin’ right.”

Price came in you so much and for so long, you thought you had mistaken what was happening to you. But, it was dripping out of you and onto the floor in little white splatters. 

Keeping his wits about him, Price whistled to Johnny and he came over with a big blanket, helping Price wrap you in it to keep you warm. You couldn’t stop shaking. 

Price smiled, bending down to kiss you as you were wrapped in Johnny’s arms, surrounded by the whole team, 

“Go get some rest, love. Your pole-cleaning duties are on hold… for now.”

[phant0mmm-jaiden]

do you still want to talk about your spn oc? because if yes i'm so curious how she would interact with other demons like meg or ruby and how that would affect the canon plot

HIHIHI IM ALWAYS READY TO TALK ABT HER

i’m actually working on re-designing her older fits, i’ll reblog with 🎉

This ended up being so much longer than I thought it would be, and I got a little at topic at times.

I talk about her relationship with other demons, but also her relationship with the brothers given she’s a demon (specifically the reveal that she’s a demon) and also briefly her relationship with Angels. Its all going to be below the cut because *good god* I could yap and I did yap, I hope you’re ready for that

I high-key forgot how much i disclosed in my OG post so bear with me.

Jaiden was a demon, something happened down the line in the 70s that didn’t align with the other demon. What did she do? i don’t know yet. She was tortured again in hell until that got boring- bcs she’s a demon she’s not as fun as humans, she can take a lot more. So they wiped her mind, nerfed her demon abilities, and sent her back up to play some Cat and Mouse. While she’s running she meets Bobby and she gets adopted 🎉🎉

Bobby and the brothers know she’s a demon, Bobby knew since day 1 and The brother find out through Gordon in Season 3 episode 7

Demons can see that she’s a demon, but she can’t see other demons- a part of the Cat and Mouse chase.

MEG is mostly a non-problem because Jaiden isn’t in season 1- she’s introduced in season 2. I know she shows up possessing Sam but because having Meg drop hints that Jaiden’s a demon doesn’t get resolved until season 3, I just imagine she doesn’t. I do this because if this was a real part of the show, it would be a loose end, so i choose to have it introduced in season 3 where it’s resolved.

RUBY is a bigger problem. She definitely dropped hints that Jaiden was a demon but never said it straight up. Before i rewatched season 3 I was bouncing around a few ideas of how it’s revealed to the Winchesters she’s a demon, one of those ideas is that Ruby revealed it. It would play out like Ruby and Dean are arguing about why Dean doesn’t trust her blah blah blah, and she’d say something like “You’re working with a demon like her, what makes me any different” while gesturing towards Jaiden, and then her and the brothers look at each other like 👁️👁️ “what does she mean by that?”

ultimately I thought it fit better it flowed better when I changed it to Gordon revealing it when he’s trying to kill Sam in the warehouse at the end of Fresh Blood, Afterwards I imagine the Winchesters are pretty apprehensive, borderline betrayed and pissed, at Jaiden, but she’s cooperative with answering their questions. They say get in the Devils Trap, she says “okay”.

Throughout season 3 they’re still side-eyeing her a bit, but she bought them Christmas presents and has never acted as a double agent (because Demons hate her just as much as she hates them.) so by Season 4 it’s just another thing they live with, she’s still their sister at the end of it.

Pre-exposure I want there to be little non-verbal hints that she’s a demon that happens strictly in the background. (Because if she were a real part of the show I think it would be cool to have those gif clip collections of it in a post like ‘Jaiden Demon Hints’) It would be things like her avoiding Devils Traps or carefully walking around her. She’s never the one throwing the Holy Water because it’s too risky and she might also get hit.

Post-exposure there are always little side jabs at her demon-ness from other Demon and Angels. Angels see her as a lowly rotten stain on the planet, demons think of her as a filthy reject.

She also can’t sense Angels like she can’t see Demons. However, I do have a fun little vision for season 4 when Cas first gets introduced that, even though she doesn’t know what he is, she’s terrified to her core, like in a primal way, because angels are like her natural predator. Any demon still left in her wants to run. After she gets more used to angels being around her that feeling fades.

CROWLEY and their relationship is a bit messy (partly because i don’t remember much past season 6), it’s dependent on the season and where he finds himself aligned with the Winchesters. In the seasons he working with the Winchester, they’re mostly cool with each other. In the seasons he’s working against them, she hates the bastard. I know in season 5 she’s inclined to like him a bit more because he gave Bobby his legs back, but that immediately changes in season 6 when he refuses to refund Bobby’s soul, twists Cas against them, and uses her and the Winchesters to do his dirty work

MEG in the later seasons also finds herself opposing the Winchesters, but if I remember correctly, season 6 on she’s actually pretty chill. Jaidens a little jealous that Cas got to have a little make-out session with Meg in season 6 because Jaiden is a bisexual mess, and in season 7/8? (whenever Cas is in the mental hospital dealing with Satan in his head) Jaiden will call up Meg and check in on Cas and have some small talk.

She misses Meg and Crowley after they’re gone, a lot because they died to her and the Winchesters can live.

I think that about covers it LAKSKDD

If you want to know more i can tell more (this is after this post has been trimmed down), just give me the prompt and it will be delivered

[numinousmysteries]

B'Sha'ah Tovah

@eightnightsofmulder

@today-in-fic

Eight Nights of Mulder Day Eight: Light

[on Ao3]

Note: I had so much fun participating in this challenge and reading everyone else's wonderful work. Thank you @welsharcher, @agent-troi, and @randomfoggytiger for organizing!

December 2000

The crowds in the Hoover building thin out as the holidays approach. Hanukkah starts tomorrow and Christmas is next week, but for Scully time stopped months ago when Mulder disappeared in the woods of Oregon. 

The life growing within her is the only bittersweet reminder that the days march on. It doesn’t feel right for anything to flourish while she’s enveloped in darkness.

She wants it all to pause until Mulder returns. But life perseveres. Her hair grows faster and thicker, her heart beats harder as it works to pump more blood through her body, and her belly is starting to protrude. Her stubborn, miraculous baby keeps growing and making its presence known against all odds. Just like its father.

He’s missed so much already. She’s nearly halfway through her pregnancy and it doesn’t make sense that Mulder isn’t here to experience it alongside her. As an investigator, she knows the more time goes by, the less likely it is he’ll be found alive. But as his partner, his best friend, and his lover, she also knows the widely accepted figures and statistics do not apply to Fox Mulder.

She spends more and more time in the office. Only here does she feel like she’s upholding her unspoken promises—to never stop looking for him and to never give up on his work. The more time passes since his abduction, though, the more it feels like she’s spinning her wheels. She’s in constant contact with the Lone Gunmen but they’ve all but admitted the chatter on abductees in rural Oregon has dried up. There have been no reports of a man who fits his description wandering into a hospital or turning up at a morgue in months.

So she crisscrosses the country with her new partner hunting down humanoid bats and parasitic slugs, telling herself it’s what Mulder would have wanted. Ironically, if he were here, he’d tell her to go home, to rest, to take care of the baby and herself, but he isn’t here. 

Now that it’s winter, she comes in before sunrise and stays long after sunset. Surrounded by his yellowing news clippings, file cabinets of notes written in his indecipherable (to all but her) scrawl, and array of trinkets and memorabilia, this is where she feels closest to him. Holed up in the basement, she lives in darkness.

Doggett is out for the week and she cherishes the time she can spend in the office on her own. He’s been a good partner, but sharing this space with anyone else but Mulder feels like a betrayal. Even Skinner left early for the day. He came down to the basement to tell her he’d be out until late next week and wished her a happy holiday. He does things like that now–checks in on her. She just nodded, gave him a tight-lipped smile, and wished him well. 

She declined her mother’s invitation to join her at Bill’s in San Diego for Christmas this year, and when Maggie offered to stay back in DC with her, she begged her not to. If she can’t be with him, she only wants to be alone. 

It’s getting late, even for her, but she isn’t ready to go home. Her apartment is too quiet and empty.

To bide the time before she can sleep, she walks around the downtown shopping district. She likes the anonymity it provides. Here, she can be just another woman doing last-minute Christmas shopping. 

There’s an upscale baby and children’s clothes boutique that she often walks past but doesn’t dare go inside. It’s full of beautiful but expensive and impractical items like dry-clean only cashmere sweaters that will inevitably be covered in spit up, drool, and mashed up food. There’s nothing she would ever buy but she knows Mulder wouldn’t be able to resist the impossibly small pieces. She imagines rolling her eyes, but smiling, as he drapes tiny onesies over her belly and insists on spending hundreds of dollars on clothing their baby will outgrow in a matter of months.

She hasn’t bought anything useful or necessary for the baby, either. It wouldn’t be right to do it without him. Her mother keeps asking if she wants help cleaning out her second bedroom for the nursery, but she still imagines that there will be time to do it with Mulder once he’s back. “Once,” she repeats to herself. Never “if.”

Down the block from the children’s shop is a small Judaica store she hadn’t noticed before. A warm glow of light emanates from inside and she’s drawn to pull the door open. 

She’s the only customer inside. The store is full of merchandise—intricately carved mezuzahs, Kiddush cups, servingware, and a wall of books in Hebrew and English—but it feels cozy, not crowded.

An older woman with wiry gray hair and black-frame glasses stands at the register near a glass case of jewelry. “Let me know if you need help with anything,” she says as Scully surveys the shelves. 

She finds a small selection of menorahs and examines them one by one. There’s one made from shiny silver with inlaid blue stones, and another angular, more modern style. Then her eyes land on a small brass menorah. It’s tarnished in spots but still catches the light. Tiny olive leaves are sculpted along the branches.

“We’re a little picked over,” the woman calls over to her. “Last minute and all, you know?”

Scully smiles and nods at her. “This one is beautiful,” she says, picking up the brass menorah. It feels solid, heavier than she expected. 

“It is, right? I found it at an estate sale. I wish I knew more about it but I can tell it’s old, possibly from the mid-1800s, and it’s similar to ones I’ve seen from the Netherlands.” 

“I’ll take it,” Scully says. She’s never known Mulder to own a menorah, but it feels like something she needs to do to honor him.

At the register, the woman carefully wraps the menorah in tissue paper before placing it in a shopping bag.

“I’ll throw in some candles for you, too,” she says. “Happy Hanukkah.” “Thank you.”

“And, I don’t mean to assume,” the woman says, her eyes dropping to toward Scully’s belly, “but b'sha'ah tovah.”

“Excuse me?”

“May your baby be born at a favorable time,” she says. “It’s a traditional Jewish blessing. We tend to be a little superstitious around pregnancy so we don’t say mazel tov until after the baby is born.” 

“I appreciate that, thank you,” Scully says, bringing her hand to her stomach.

The shopkeeper’s words echo in her mind on the drive home. It feels like the only appropriate thing anyone has said to her about her pregnancy. She’s given hollow smiles and nods to ultrasound technicians who’ve congratulated her and asked how happy she was to be having a baby. Her mother has been a little more sensitive, but Maggie still insists on trying to cheer her up and look on the bright side even though her blessing is tinged with darkness. But: b’sha’ah tovah, at a favorable time. It gives her comfort—the hope that the right time will come, that Mulder will return to her and their child. 

Back at her apartment, she gently unwraps the menorah and sets it in the center of her kitchen table. Looking closely at it, she sees there’s even more detail to each individual olive leaf, lines and shading etched into the brass, than she noticed in the store. 

The next night, she comes straight home from work and digs a box of matches from her kitchen drawer to light the menorah. She and Mulder once celebrated an improvised Hanukkah with battery-powered candles in an airport bar, so she knows to light the center candle, the shamash, first. Then she places a candle in the far right branch and uses the shamash to light that one, too. 

She grins at the improbability of it all: Dana Katherine Scully, star Sunday school pupil and lapsed Catholic, lighting a menorah. She doesn’t know the Hebrew prayer that Mulder recited to her once so she silently says her own. She prays for her baby and for Mulder, prays they’ll be together again soon. 

More than two millennia ago, a group of Jews kept a menorah, just like this one, lit for eight nights through the power of their beliefs alone. Like the Maccabees, she’s exhausted nearly all of her resources. To the FBI, Mulder’s disappearance is essentially a cold case with no leads left to track. There’s no evidence for her to analyze or put under a microscope hoping it will guide her to him. All she has left to go on is faith. 

The warm glow of the candles reflecting on the brass cuts through the darkness surrounding her. She feels the tiniest flutter within her and it nearly takes her breath away. She brings a palm to her belly and feels it again. Life perseveres. 

“Happy Hanukkah, little one,” she whispers. “Next year we’ll light the candles with your dad. I promise.” 

[adultswim2021]

Check It Out! With Dr. Steve Brule #4: “Fear” | June 14, 2010 - 12:30AM | S01E05

You wanna know something funny? A few nights ago I thought “maybe I’ll doubletime it on the blog and make it so there’s daily updates queued up through Christmas.” HAH!! Maybe I’ll see you in 2025. 2026?

A strong contender for my favorite episode of season one. Imagine a man… a SIMPLE man, being TORMENTED by puppets… it's almost TOO delicious to SPEAK OF~! 

This one has my favorite poem, where he says “very scary. Yes, very”. I think about this all the time. I think when I’ve been spooked in the past I would say that line. All the monsters I be seein be like “whuuut”. 

The first segment features Brule confronting his fear of puppets. Reilley’s performance as Brule here is so fucking wonderful. You really believe this guy hates puppets. “Puppets are little people that can talk. And they are NOT nice” declares an adamant Brule, just before throwing to him at a puppet theater (or “The scariest place of all”), about to be treated to a free show, or as Brule puts it: “The real star of the show was the free show I was gonna get.” This is all immaculate writing, just fucking great. I love all those lines so much that I forgive the show for featuring an impossible dream sequence. 

In another part of the show, Brule tries to spook the viewer himself (let’s face it, probably only GUYS watch this!) by going “BROO! (scared ya)” There’s a world-building clip where we cut to Steve’s old puppet show with the Married News Team, which gave him his fear of puppets, in some inexplicable way. I generally don’t want the married news team on this show, but this is a more ideal moment for them. They further the running gag that Steve has sex with Jan behind Wayne’s back. Jan should be in prison for this. It’s too awful to say why. 

There’s a little gag in the “Yesterday’s Weather” segment, where the host says the temperature was in the 90s (degrees) and the on-screen text says “1990s”. I love stuff like that. Lord! 

There’s a David Liebe Hart segment that is also funny… instead of quoting it extensively I will mention that for some reason my Youtube algorithm keeps pushing a (WARNING: WATCH OUT) crazy woman’s channel who is a DLH hanger-on and she makes videos calling Tim & Eric pedofiles and alleging that they exploited their actors (which they sorta did but whats the big whoop, really). It’s scary out there, watch out! Anyway, Brule gets scared of Chip the Black Boy and runs away. 

There’s a Jackolantern segment where Brule gets his finger chopped off, and it seems all fake but I guess it’s FAIRLY funny. THEN practically right AFTER THAT he’s all like “Puppets Come from Marinara”. Another line I say/think all the time when I see a lotta puppets in a place (this happens less and less frequently with time). 

Possibly my favorite episode of season one? Lotta transcendentally funny stuff in this one, I might have to put this puppy in a time capsule. Have a laugh, children of the future, unless technology has advanced to a point where puppets walk free and tall like American men. Should it be foretold, may this episode be a reminder of a past that truly was… no strings attached. ‘NUFF SAID

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 28th January

Wow, January is almost over already! That felt like a breeze! We do have three songs this week, though, so that's something - a real bit of turnover as we all get the Christmas frivolity out of our systems, and things take a turn for the more romantic. Which is probably for the best, honestly.

Why? - Anthony Newley (peaked at Number 1)

Hmmm. It's not exactly a dynamic start. Instead, Anthony begins this song with a gentle clip-clopping intro, all strummy guitar and chimes. I can't pin down exactly why it makes me think of a donkey plodding alongl, but it really does. It just sort of ambles along a bit aimlessly, with no real sense of drive or purpose. It's not offensively bad, but it's a bit lacklustre, at least for me.

Things don't get better as the lyrics come in, because they're nothing if not banal, a series of questions and answers, delivered almost like a catechism by Anthony: I'll never let you go. Why? Because I love you. I'll always love you so. Why? Because you love me. And so on and so on, ad infinitum. It's wearing, and also bordering on the tautological. Anthony will always love his love interest because... because they love him? There's something weirdly circular about it all, and definitely a bit pointless.

Pointless, but very charminly delivered, in a way that feels distinctly British to me, lots of lines about how I think you're awfully sweet, and such like. It's very soft and gentle, and politely awkward, in a very Hugh Grant-esque way. You can absolutely hear the David Bowie influence, too, even more than in Anthony's last song. This is something I think I'm going to be mentioning just about every time that Anthony has a hit, because it genuinely fascinates me - just some really random obscure singer that I bet very few people have heard of, but listen and you've got a full blueprint for where Bowie got his vocal stylings. Wild stuff.

I should also mention here that the song, despite feeling very British, was originally an American song, sung by none other than Frankie Avalon, notable teen idol. This is kind of interesting to me, because I think having a teenager sing it gives the song a different vibe completely. Coming from a teenager the rather shallow lines come off as sincere, a young man's description of falling in love for the first time. With Anthony, who's a bit older, and also British, you've got a different vibe, the sort of stuttering, gentle politeness we have here. He comes off as no less sincere, but a lot shyer, more hesitant, maybe not quite saying everything he feels. It's a different performance, and you get something different from it. Doesn't mean I love the song, but I can appreciate what he's doing with it, I guess.

Heartaches by the Number - Guy Mitchell (5)

Okay, so I think I know a version of this song? Not this version, though - the version I have in my head is a much slower, more mournful affair. Not that this version, by none other than Guy Mitchell, is a particularly happy song, but it's upbeat and pacy, with a whistling break, for heaven's sake. So it's got a slightly more cheery feel to it than I imagined, despite the rather downbeat lyrics.

Those lyrics, though. Man, Guy isn't doing well. He's got heartaches by the number / Troubles by the score / Every day you love me less / Each day I love you more. Yeouch! Thus begins a tour through all the romantic misfortunes that Guy's had. First his love left him, then they came back but without meaning to stay. Finally, they called to say they were coming back yet again, except while with hopeful heart I waited for your knock upon the door / I waited, but you must have lost your way. There's something about the plain dejection of it all. You want to shake Guy and tell him just to dump them, except you get the feel it wouldn't make a difference. And then, the kicker, as he concludes that Yes, I've got heartaches by the number / A love that I can't wind / But the day that I stop counting / That's the day my world will end. Even as he's being mistreated - and he knows he's being mistreated - he can't quite bring himself to cut mental ties, to stop obsessing over counting the ways his love has disappointed him. He's still keeping track, still hanging onto them. It's deeply unhealthy, but gosh, if it's not a compelling dynamic. Poor, pathetic man.

It's a proper country song, all banjo and southern twang, with a catchy tune and memorable lyrics. As such I'm also hardly surprised that it's become a bit of a country standard in the years after Guy recorded it. Seriously, there are versions out there by everyone from Ray Price to Buck Owens, Connie Francis, Bing Crosby, Waylon Jennings, Bill Haley and even Cyndi Lauper. Actually, I'd quite like to listen to the Connie Francis version. Mostly because I like everything she does. I suspect the version I've heard before is possibly the Ray Prince, the Buck Owens or even the Waylon Jennings version - I'm imagining a slightly slower, deeper voice, a real husky country complaint.

That said, I do think I'm warming to Guy's more upbeat treatment of it. It fits with the denial the narrator-character seems to be in, as he bemoans his heartaches, but also hangs onto the memories of them, unable to accept that he's lost them. He's still counting his heartaches, whistling along merrily as if to convince himself that it's fine, that they're going to come back to him, if only to break his heart for a fourth time.

A Voice in the Wilderness - Cliff Richard (2)

Crying "prepare the way for the Lord?" I joke, but there's definitely a smack of religion to this number - a premonition of Cliff hits to come? He only became an evangelical Christian in 1964, so it's probably a coincidence, but still, there's definitely a touch of the Biblical about a voice from the sky asking a lonely Cliff to haev faith in your darlin' and exhorting him to be true to her memory, she'll come back one day. You half expect the reveal to be that his love is dead, and that this is about some sort of reunion in the great hereafter.

Unfortuantely, the song then chooses to go in a much less interesting direction, with the reveal that Cliff's love isn't dead - they simply argued, and his love left him. We had a quarrel, he sings, I was unkind / Why did you leave me? Love made me blind. Now he mopes in the "wilderness" - no, I'm not sure what wilderness this is supposed to be, either - and sings mopishly to his love, asking her to have pity, come back now, I need you so much. Which again, is a bit pathetic. Honestly, if I was Cliff's girl, I wouldn't be so sure about going back to him, however much he evokes the voice of true love.

To be fair, I think even Cliff wasn't particularly enamoured with this one - he apparently pushed for its B-side, a song called Don't Be Mad at Me, to be made the A-side here. His manager insisted, however, and it's this song that became the hit, despite Don't Be Mad at Me being hailed as a great track. Meanwhile, at least one TV producer described this song as "an interminable drag of the first order". Which feels a little harsh, honestly - it's really not that bad, musically, just a bit pathetic - but still, never a good sign when the artist recording the song and the folks in charge of plugging it can't muster much enthusiasm for it.

It did, at least, get some publicity for being used in a film, the brilliantly-named Expresso Bongo. And honestly, the film sounds genuinely insane. It's about a sketchy talent agent called Johnny Jackson, who's incidentally got a girlfriend who's a stripper, and who he discovers a young rock and roll singer playing in a espresso bar, one Bert Rudge. Bert, under Johnny's tutelage, changes his name - I kid you not - to "Bongo Herbert" and has some success. Wacky hijinks then ensue, in ways that I assume were meant as a parody of how record labels and companies worked in the 1950s. Honestly, I don't know enough about it to judge whether this film is actually funny. I'm suspecting it wasn't, by the look of the plot summary I'm reading, but critics don't seem to have minded it at the time, barring one notably crap accent. Cliff played Bongo Herbert, of course. Which is interesting, given the complete lack of bongos in this song, but hey.

We're apparently in the mood for pathetic men, this week. And honestly, I can't blame anyone for that. However, I suspect it's only Guy who was "supposed" to come off as pathetic. With Anthony and Cliff it seems like more of an unintentional thing, a sort of creeping lameness. Neither of their songs are bad, exactly, but I think Guy's convinced me a bit more. Plus, it's been a while since we heard any country, so...

Favourite song of the bunch: Heartaches by the Number

[domesticandlovingmonsters]

Their First Christmas With You:  Hellboy

Just wanna give a little FYI: I’ve kinda mixed all the characters from the movies together. Abe is obviously from the 2004 movies and the others mentioned are from the recent one. Obviously, Hellboy is just Hellboy. 

He would never forget to get you a gift. Never. Why would you ever doubt his love for you in such a way? 

But later you did find a search history of gift ideas on his phone one day. And Abe had come to you once or twice asking what you wanted for Christmas. Which made you chuckle, because you damn well know, Abe has had presents for everyone since March. 

You didn’t say anything about it. You just started dropping hints around Red so the poor man didn’t stress too much. 

But other than gifts, Hellboy is all over Christmas. His room was full of blinking lights and little Christmas trinkets. The Bureau's tree was decorated by him. Anytime he saw an empty hallway, he demanded it be decorated with some sort of Christmas theme. 

When he was able to go out on missions, a Santa hat was clipped to his hair between his horns. But he refused to wear the big red cloak or a white beard. 

You had the best idea of putting bells and baubles on his guns. Like little charms you see on FPS games. And since then, everyone has to at least have some sort of trinket hanging from their pistols. 

Coming up to the big day, it's a party. Red is in the best mood, always with a drink in hand and going around running amok while feasting on all kinds of Christmas food. 

The Christmas lunches/dinners you used to have with your family? Imagine it spreads over a week leading up to the big day and then when you thought you’d eaten your last dish, Red demands more and every night you went to bed in a food coma.

As gifts are exchanged, gathered under the massive, stupidly expensive tree, you hand Big Red your gift to him. And he almost cries at it. 

You know he’s a big gun nut. And also a massive comic book nerd with a flare for the dramatics. And you were pretty sure he was still tipsy when he tore open the wrapping to reveal an exact replica of DoomSlayer’s shotgun. A WORKING replica of the weapon to be exact. 

He stared at it for so long you thought that made him have a heart attack. But he hugged it close to his chest and pressed the biggest kiss on your cheek. 

“Christmas is canceled! Nothing can outdo (Y/N)’s gift.” Hellboy says, still hugging the gun like a puppy. 

To you from Red, it's a scrapbook of photos from all of your missions with Red, Abe and the others. And with each photo was a little description in Hellboy’s handwriting. All of them were about the moments he loved or was proud of you from each photo. 

One was a very gruesome photo of you, Hellboy and Daimio’s were-jaguar covered in filth after a nasty fight with a giant toad monster in the swamp. The photo captured you laughing, a deep gasp over your right eye, pushing away the jaguar beast as it tried to lick your cheek. Red was leaning against a tree behind the two of you looking winded but holding onto the tail of Daimio in a meager attempt to stop him from pushing you over.

The description read: “I love that even after being beaten, swallowed and thrown against a tree, you still find the kitty cute enough to let him cover you in tuna breath.”

All of you spent the rest of the morning flicking through the book and reminiscing about the times that were shown in each photo. 

P.S. It was Sasha’s idea to make something more personal than something from an online store.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

every now and then i like to imagine a younger bruce and alfred. bruce, growing into gangly limbs and knobby knees and adolescence, and the pain of his parents' deaths—of his childhood shattering on impact—has faded from the blistered flesh of a fresh burn to a constant, hollow ache.

and above all, bruce isn't stupid. of course, what he means by that is he's very capable of putting aside his messy, tangled, too-bright-too-loud-too-blazing emotions in favour of examining the facts logically, much better than the average teenager, in fact.

what he observes, without a single exception, is alfred supporting his every whim with nothing but some firm instructions and a ember sort of pride in his eye. what he sees is alfred steeling himself to enter the master bedroom, even after all these years, and completing his routine cleaning with a sort of reverence to his unusually clumsy touches—clipped fingernails tracing over his mother's jewelry box and his father's watch cabinet like a renaissance painting, like a child's handmade christmas gift, like veneration. alfred's shoulders begin to tremble halfway through and they start shaking once he's finished, (and bruce knows alfred rarely laughs). what he notices is alfred trying recipe upon recipe to expand bruce's selectively picky taste in food, memorizing his every mention of life at school, shuttering the curtains and leaving a glass of water by his bedside with a brush over the forehead as a means of tucking bruce in.

and bruce knows what his clumsy overtures may seem like to the older man. there are days when taking his new sword to a tapestry in the east wing seems like the most reasonable course of action, there are days when the very thought of leaving the safety of his room makes him want to vomit, there are days when alfred gently asks what he needs and he screams i just need you to leave, alright? just go the fuck away! the words cut his lips coming out, and they seem to wound alfred as well.

but for every bad day, there's one where he helps roll out the cookie dough in a kitchen that seems far too large for just two people. bruce listens raptly to every self-defense lesson alfred teaches him, practices the combat moves alfred demonstrates until he's breathless, until alfred can tell how thankful he is for what he's taught him. bruce brings home projects from school, blood-spatter art from his forensics class and hand-drawn coloured diatoms and photography portfolios, like a child offering a fistful of wildflowers plucked from their mother's garden. dirt still clinging to the roots, heads of petals drooping gently, necks wavering, too heavy to bear without the earth holding them upright.

bruce just hopes alfred understands; sees through his sullen words and bruised knuckles to the fact that he comes back home every night, because he had his mother and he had his father and now all he has left is his alfred, and like hell is bruce losing him too.

---

*reappears from the void after like three months* sound off: who's still alive

tag list: @woahajimes @birdy-bat-writes @subtleappreciation @catxsnow @pricetagofficial @screennamealreadyused @clamityganon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @buticaaba @comics-observer @newsical @queenofbooknerds @queen-of-ice494

[oldwebmlp]

From: http://web.archive.org/web/20090806065859/http://geocities.com/baby_blumen/firstpony.html

Text from page below the cut:

My First Pony

...a memory

It was the summer of 1983 and I was pony crazy.  I remember the day my friend brought over her ponies: Cotton Candy and Bubbles.  As soon as I saw them I was hooked.  What were they? Where did she get them from? How could I get my own? We played with the ponies all day, then when my friend had to go home I took her Bubbles and hid it in my Barbie McDonalds -- I wanted a pony so bad I would steal one!

Well of course I gave Bubbles back and my mom told me that I would get my own pony soon enough, but this was when My Little Ponies were still fairly new and not an easy find at the local toy store.  It wasn't until a few months later that I got my first pony...

I had lost another one of my baby teeth and put it under my pillow at night before I went to sleep.  The next morning I reached under the pillow for the usual dollar, but it wasn't there. The Toothfairy had taken my tooth and left me nothing -- what a rip off!  I got out of bed, ready to go express my disappointment to my parents when something caught my eye.  There at the foot of my bed was a My Little Pony! Yes, there were some new little hair clips too, but who cares about barrettes when you have a brand spankin' new pony?!! The pony was Firefly and it was love at first sight.

I remember freeing Firefly from her package and breathing in deep that new plastic pony aroma.  I was 5 and getting high in my kitten decorated bedroom! I was addicted! I don't think Firefly was out of my sight for at least a month, she went everywhere I went and I even slept with her! I think I read the backcard like a thousand times, fantasizing about more ponies.  As much as I loved Firefly I realized that she wasn't enough -- I needed to get my pony fix! I needed more!!!

My parents could see that their precious daughter was going through MLP withdrawl so nearly all of my Christmas presents that year were MLP related.  Firefly finally had some friends to play with and I was able to shoot up on pony love again! I received Medley, Sprinkles with the Waterfall playset, and Peachy with the Beauty Parlor.  I was in pony heaven!  

More ponies would come, but you never forget your first ;)  And Baby Firefly was my first baby pony -- which makes perfect sense.  In 1989 my family moved and all the ponies  moved to the basement.  I decided I was "too old" to play with toys anymore -- I was too busy being a little Guns N' Roses skank! It wasn't until almost 10 years later that met up with my ponies again.  In late 1998 when I was looking for a desktop theme for my computer I found pictures of My Little Ponies on the net.  My face lit up as I remembered all my fond pony times.  In a matter of days I discovered eBay and the rest is history! Firefly and all of her friends have been rescued from the basement and now have their own place in my room.  I love collecting ponies again because it takes me back to my childhood when magic and imagination ruled!

Thank you Firefly! I love you!

[sparring-hyena]

winter.

in which weather can be profound and personal growth is messy.

OR, my own imagining of post-book 2.

-

-

they find each other later. much later. weeks and months later, really, during winter break. although, Poppy guesses, it’s not really winter break if they’ve both graduated and left their days at Belvoire behind them. it’s just winter.

so it’s winter when they find each other, somewhere in that awkward week between Christmas and the new year that doesn’t even feel like a real point in time. there’s snow and belated family gatherings and nights spent alone as a forecasted blizzard rips through the city.

it’s an odd kind of loneliness that settles in Poppy’s chest during that week, like she’s missing something so small yet so important and can’t quite identify what it is. but she pushes on. puts on a smile and pretends it’s all fine as she sits through a belated Christmas dinner with her parents.

and then, only when she finally manages to escape her parents’ brownstone just before midnight, when she steals a few quiet moments for herself in the candy aisle of the bodega that she felt compelled to step into, does she find AJ.

“fancy meeting you here.” the voice is familiar and pokes at those silly little words that have been rattling around her mind for months.

it’s always been you.

she bristles, pretends it’s unresolved hate that makes her react that way, and turns around to face the voice. “AJ.” clipped. neutral. good, no way she’s going to lose to AJ Hughes in the candy aisle of a bodega.

“just can’t seem to stay away from me, huh?”

“i could live a very peaceful life if i never had to see you again.” it feels like a lie coming off her tongue, and that gaping thing in her chest screams and begs her to take it back.

AJ clutches her chest and makes like she’s been hurt, but she smiles through it all and Poppy never wants to think about why she hasn’t stopped thinking about AJ’s stupid smile since graduation. and that stupid declaration. and that god-awful kiss that had left her shocked and speechless and her lips tingling with fiery— whatever.

“doing anything right now?” AJ asks.

“walking away from you.” and Poppy proves her point by turning on her heels and walking down the aisle. she holds her breath firm in her chest as she walks, and only releases it when she hears AJ follow after her.

“first of all,” AJ starts as she falls in step with Poppy, “i know you wanted me to follow you. and second of all” —she stops in front of Poppy, forcing them to stand face-to-face— “wanna grab a drink?”

-

so she grabs a drink with AJ. so what? no biggie.

except one drink turns into two, turns into three, turns into making out outside the bar, which, naturally, turns into fucking in AJ’s kitchen because they couldn’t make it to the bed.

no biggie.

-

Poppy braces herself for the cold and flees AJ’s apartment early in the morning.

she decides that that was the last time. no more running into AJ. no more grabbing a drink because what’s one drink between old university friends? because they aren’t friends, weren’t ever really friends. no, they toed the line between enemies and two people with a complicated arrangement who can’t seem to do one thing right even now!

so that’s the end. for the best, Poppy thinks to herself as she wraps her coat tighter around her body as the wind slices at her skin.

and she feels... okay about that decision. she knows, logically, that not seeing AJ again is for the best. but she also knows, less logically, that her bed is much too large, much too cold when she crawls into it that night.

-

she loses track of the days. gets lost in a dreadfully dull cycle—wake, eat, phone, shower, sleep, repeat. she keeps tabs on all her old friends through their socials, and starts to wonder if they were ever actually friends.

has she ever actually had a real friend?

she likes Chloe’s latest post—a photo of her on vacation in the Swiss alps—and then turns her phone off.

then those four silly words echo in Poppy’s head again.

a lie, she told herself as soon as AJ had breathed them into existence. and it had worked for a while, had tamped down the hope she allowed herself to feel bloom in her chest for just one moment, because she’ll never let herself hope again.

a game just like everything else, she tells herself now as she watches the snow fall from the dark sky.

and then before she knows what’s happening, Poppy’s off her couch and out the door as those four stupid, awful, annoying words chant in her mind.

she had made a note of AJ’s address when she left a few mornings ago. only so she could stay away and make good on that decision to never see her again. so it’s no trouble getting to AJ’s building—modest and nothing particularly exciting.

homey, huh? AJ had said with an air of insecurity as they’d stumbled inside a few nights ago and Poppy had paused their make-out to judge and look and absorb AJ’s new home.

she doesn’t know what to do now that she’s met with the reality of her late night decision. leaving would be wise, she knows, but she just can’t seem to get her legs to carry her away.

she slips inside the building behind someone else who’s too lost in their phone to notice Poppy, and rides the elevator up to AJ’s floor.

she knocks on AJ’s door, softly in the hope that maybe AJ won’t hear it and she can leave unnoticed and pretend this never happened. but then there are footsteps getting closer and Poppy’s heart beat drums in her ears and then the door opens.

“what’re you doing here?” AJ asks, her voice firm and eyes hard.

clearly a mistake coming here, Poppy decides and suddenly she wants nothing more than to be at home curled in her too large and too cold bed.

“i don’t know,” Poppy admits.

AJ nods, glances back over her shoulder into her apartment, and Poppy immediately thinks she’s interrupted something important.

“did you mean it?” Poppy quickly asks before AJ has a chance to tell her to leave.

“mean what?”

“what you said at graduation?”

AJ’s head quirks to the side, clearly trying to remember.

or maybe she does remember and she’s just trying to give you an out. trying to let you down easy.

but the words thrum through her veins and she needs an answer now if she ever wants to be able to carry on with life.

“when you said ‘it’s always been you’ did you mean it?”

AJ continues to stare and for the first time ever, Poppy can’t read it. or maybe doesn’t want to be able to read it for fear of what it will mean.

“did we actually hate each other?” Poppy now asks, desperate to just get some answers and keep AJ in front of her.

“do you think we did?”

“i don’t know.”

AJ nods and clicks her tongue. “maybe you should figure that out before you come knocking on people’s doors at midnight.”

AJ moves to close the door but Poppy’s quick to stop it. “no, no, wait. please.”

maybe she hears something in Poppy’s voice, because AJ pauses, waits.

“i know we didn’t hate each other. i know that. but i just… i wanted to hate you. i wanted to hate you so much and i don’t know why i couldn’t just hate you because your were everything i despised. maybe you know why because you always seemed like you knew something that i didn’t.”

AJ doesn’t say anything right away, and Poppy, for a moment, thinks she’s finally gone too far. that after everything she’s put AJ through, this midnight-doorstep-declaration will be what costs Poppy having AJ in her life. and then—

“i used to think you hated me, way back when we first met. i didn’t care, of course. i never hated you, even then, but i didn’t like you much. but i quickly learnt to see through everything you were throwing at me. i think you subconsciously knew that you needed me because i was so different from everyone you’d met before, i was challenging.”

“you weren’t challenging.”

AJ quirks her head to the side a playful smile pulls her lips up.

“maybe a little bit,” Poppy admits, and admitting something to AJ doesn’t bother her and she realises that it maybe never did. “but it was nice.”

“yeah, i thought so too. we were so different in a few ways and so alike in others. i think that’s why we worked… why we probably needed each other.”

Poppy sits with that for a moment, and thinks that AJ might have a point.

“my bed’s too big,” Poppy says, and she doesn’t know why she decides to admit that. “i just— i think i’m lonely and i think i miss you.”

“you think or you know?”

“i miss you and i need you and i wish i’d done things differently.”

AJ just stares for a moment and then: “a friend of mine is having a party for the new year tomorrow night, you should come with me.”

“really?”

“yeah, really. i think you’d have a nice time if you came and i know i would enjoy it more.”

Poppy’s cheeks turn a little red. “okay, yeah, i’ll come.”

and then they stand awkwardly at AJ’s front door, unsure of what to do next but desperate to not let this moment fade. AJ steps aside a moment later; an invitation, silent in its declaration but loud in the space between them.

Poppy smiles and steps close to AJ. she cups her cheek and says, “Thank you,” before moving inside.

[badwithten]

Eyes of the Elf | CHRISTMAS EVEL - STRAY KIDS ADVENT CALENDAR

PAIRING Stalker!Han x fem!reader

GENRE horror

WORD COUNT 3.6k

WARNINGS drugging, kidnapping (?)

SYNOPSIS After a warm welcoming gift from your new neighbour, you notice him becoming more attentive to your life. You blew it off as him trying to make you feel more welcome. It soon became clear it was more than that. And despite not believing in fairytales, you swear your elf on the shelf keeps moving on its own. 

MASTERLIST

It wasn’t your first choice of apartments, the neighbourhood was so-so, your room only smells slightly of must and at least the landlord didn't look like she wanted you to leave before you even signed your contract. With the budget of a college student working part-time, this is all you could afford. 

The day of the move was just as stressful as you had imagined. Your friends that promised to help had suddenly pulled out. Not that you had any heavy furniture to move, but you were more worried about moving the dozens of boxes you had from your car to the fifth floor. Some of them were light, you could take two at a time, and others were heavier meaning only one box per trip. After the sixth box, you were getting sick of it, but you were only halfway through. Just as you grew tired of the tedious activity. A voice catches you off guard.

“Excuse me miss” You spin away from the rental van you had hired for the day. Seeing a tall thin man head your way. His bagging jeans came in at his waist where a black sweater was tucked into. He jogged towards you, keys jingling in his hand. The parking lot was below the apartment building, for residents only. “Can I offer you a hand? I didn't mean to pry but I’ve noticed you've moved a few boxes in the last half hour or so”

“Uh yeah, that would be nice thanks” You're caught off guard, willing to take help from even your weird high school crush at this point. Anything to get this move over and done with. You awkwardly shuffle around each other as you hand him a box, you go to grab your own but he stops you.

“Give me another one”

“Are you sure? These ones are heavy”

“I got this” You could tell he was showing off, but it made you laugh. There was an innocence to his flexing, he wasn't trying to be cocky, only trying to make light of what otherwise would be an awkward situation. You appreciate his humour.

With another box in the stranger's arms, he follows you up the staircase towards your apartment. It doesn’t take long, but it drags out in silence. You're too concentrated on not breathing hard, too embarrassed to show this man how out of breath you are. And it seems he's struggling with the weight of the boxes he insisted would be easy to carry. 

Finally, you reach your door. Both of you place down the boxes to catch a breath, laughing when you look over and see him a lot more worn out than he cares to admit. Fiddling around in your bag you find your keys, the small ring holding more pretty jangling things than actual keys. One of these clips contains your I.D., being held in a small blue wallet with a clear screen. As you search for the unfamiliar key to your new home, you catch him staring. 

Like a doll, his eyes are empty. His body seems out of his control, he's lifeless as he tilts his head to the side trying to read your I.D. He snaps out of it when he catches your eyes, standing back upright. “Y/N?”

“That's me” You smile, choosing to ignore his strange behaviour in exchange for his help moving. The key turns and your door falls open, allowing you to finally enter. “And you are?”

“Han Jisung” He follows behind you once again, moving his heavy boxes while you carry just one. He places them down with a grunt. “Just call me Han. I'm just down the hall”

“Well thanks for your help Han” Standing with your hands against your back, you catch your breath, mentally prepared to do the trip all over again. “I should have it from here, I gave you the heavy ones”

“I got to finish the job now”

“Are you sure?” You could use the help, but having an unknown man in your apartment felt wrong. 

“Can’t have a pretty girl like you doing all the work now can we?” He smiles towards you, but not at you. The nice intent that is supposedly behind his compliment not meeting you. “I insist, please”

Although this place doesn't feel like home just yet, you're comfortable, you're safe. The stress of moving melts away, you had been worried for so long about where you would be moving once you were in the city and you were lucky to find this place, especially with the busy hustle of the city that comes with the holiday season. You have a bed, a bed you own under a roof you pay for. It's more responsibilities than you have ever had in your life, but you're stronger than ever now. It doesn't weigh you down the way you thought it would. It's not too heavy, breaking your bones as you try to keep yourself afloat. Instead, it's a welcomed pressure, it grounds you. A weighted blanket that lulls you to sleep. 

A fast knock wakes you up, you don't remember sleeping but the pain in your neck says otherwise. You’ll have to invest in a new couch if you're gonna make a habit of falling asleep without your knowledge. The knocking catches you in between consciousness, you can't tell where it's coming from. Was it your door or the neighbours?

As you are heading to check the peephole, another knock makes you jump awake. All memories of your sleep are gone. You're more awake than ever, instead of checking you pull open the door, annoyed at the impatience of whoever was behind the disturbance. But your heart sinks and you regret opening your door.

Han Jisung stands outside your apartment, smiles wide and eyes deceiving. He looks like a snake with his fangs out, his gummy smile catching you off guard while his eyes are hunting you like prey. You feel as if you aren't treating him fairly. You have no reason to think this of him. Not when he helped you this morning, and especially not when he put a gift basket together for you.

“Welcome to the complex Y/N!” There's a certain innocence to his words that let you trust him. His voice is high-pitched, squeaky clean. A hint of humour is in all his words, making you confused if he's being serious or not. 

“Oh wow” All thoughts have left your head, well that's not true. Any appropriate thoughts have left your head. The main words floorings around in your mind, what the fuck. You don’t know this man, yet in his arms is a woven basket filled with small Christmas-themed gifts. A pack of candy canes, a miniature tree decoration that fills your nose with the strong smell of pine, you assume the candle next to it is the source. The smell is not strong enough to cut through the silence that follows your words. Although Han seems unbothered by the tension.

“May I?” He points his head past you into your unfurnished apartment. His words are formed as a question, but you have a feeling he's not asking. Silence still fills you as you step to the side and he welcomes himself into your soon-to-be home. 

You watch as he sets the basket down on your dining table, sitting with a grunt and looking over at you. His eyes are as empty as this morning. The door creaking is the only sound in your apartment, it once again doesn't seem to bother the man in front of you. Taking a deep breath against the now-closed door before turning with newfound confidence, a smile on your face.

“Thank you, Han, I appreciate it I really do” You join him at the table, starting to pull apart the gifts he had purchased you. “But why? I mean you don't know me”

“We’re neighbours now, think of it as a housewarming gift!” He watches you intensely as you search through the goodies he bought you, he's proud of himself. “I have a feeling I’ll get to know you soon enough”

At the bottom of the basket lies a small toy elf, one you recognize as an “elf of the shelf”. Although this was a tradition you never participated in, you understood the concept. He would watch you, reporting back to Santa each night if you were naughty or nice. There's something uncanny about this elf. His eyes dig deep into you and you have to look away before you get lost. Yet looking up, you find the same dark look in Hans' eyes.

“Thank you, Han” You try to be genuine with your smile, but your mind is racing for an excuse to get him out of your apartment. “I was worried about not being with my family for Christmas for the first time, but this is really nice. So thank you”

“Of course, I’m glad I could help” He stands, straightening his jacket as he does. “I’m sorry to leave so soon but I need to be up early tomorrow so I’ve got to go”

“That's ok, you’ve done so much already” You laugh, not wanting to come across as too sad that he's leaving, you wouldn't want him to change his mind. You open the door for him, this time allowing him to step outside of your apartment. Hands tucked behind his back, he spins on his feet to smile at you one last time. 

“Catch you later Y/N”

That man left an uneasiness in your stomach. His kindness contained something sinister inside but you couldn't place your finger on it. You tried not to let it dampen your mood. You had just moved into your first apartment, this should be exciting for you. Even with the overly friendly neighbour. You needed to be grateful you even had a roof over your head. After spending some time making peace with the weird events of your day, you climbed into bed. Your first proper sleep in your new home was a strange but welcome feeling. You didn't fight the heaviness of your eyes as you sink into a deep sleep. 

It took longer than normal for you to come to your senses this morning, it was as if you were waking up at a friend's house, forgetting you had stayed over and panicking when you didn't know where you were. That panic is only temporary as you come to realise this is just your new home. A new panic comes when you see what's waiting for you at the end of your bed.

At the foot of your bed sits the elf on the shelf toy that was gifted to you yesterday. The dead stare in its eyes remains. You're not sure how you managed to not knock it over in your sleep, but here it sits, watching over you. 

You're convinced this is what a heart attack would feel like. The cracking of your ribs and rupture of your skull. A panic you've never felt before. In your teenage years, you were often spooked by what you thought were supernatural occurrences, which in reality could be explained by very natural everyday occurrences.

But this, you couldn't explain this. You swear you left this thing on your dining table, you haven't touched it since you pulled it out in front of Han. But it's on your bed, watching you sleep. You quickly wrap yourself up in your robe, grab the cursed object and head down to the parking spot below your apartment. Regardless of if you have moved it there unconsciously or it really was haunted, you didn't want it in your new home. It had no place there. 

Opening the large garbage bin, you threw the toy in there. Its eyes looked sad as you closed the lid, a waft of air tainted by rotten food spewing into your face. The smell makes you stumble away for fresh air. But at least it is gone, and with the panic out of your system, you can finally take a moment to allow your brain to fully wake up. You rub your temples, desperately trying to descramble your thoughts. You didn't even know what time it was or how much longer you had to get ready before class. 

The sound of a car unlocking catches you off guard, you spin to see who else is present with you at this moment. The brief moment of relief you felt is quickly deflated as you see Han heading towards his car. You play it off, praying he didn't see what you just threw away. You need to walk past him to get back to your apartment so you smile as waves.

“Good morning Han” 

“Morning Y/N” He waves back. Despite the disturbing nature of some of his actions, his appearance was so enticing. His long thin legs were supported by his thick platform shoes. Today he wore a denim jacket, tight at his waist. And his hair was unkempt, wild apart from the sunglasses that kept them out of his face. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah actually, it was a good first night” You fidget with your house keys, not stopping to talk, instead keeping a slow pace.

“Nothing weird happened? I’ve heard some strange first-night stories” He laughs but you don't have any humour in you. You stop in your tracks, turning back towards him.

“Excuse me?” You want him to celebrate but your questions come out with more anger than intended. His face drops into something more real than any upbeatness you've seen from him.

“I’ve got to go to work, I’ll see you later Y/N” Without giving you a chance to reply he gets into his car, starts it and puts it in reverse right away. Forcing you away from his vehicle. How did he know something happened to you?

You're so fixated on his words for the rest of the day. What does he mean he's heard strange stories? You wished you weren't so aggressive, you wanted answers. What does strange mean? And did he happen to be at the centre of these stories? Your mind ticks along throughout the day, you're barely present as you sit through your classes, run errands and meet with friends. Something was off and you couldn't figure out what this was. Your mind was so preoccupied with these thoughts you could barely function.

Your day is full of mishaps due to your wandering mind. First, you overfilled your coffee, spilling it over your computer top. Your lecture is no better, being called upon to answer questions that you didn't even hear. As you arrive home, you try to destress and calm down. But to your shock and horror, there sits an elf at your door, the same one you threw away this morning. 

You don’t believe in the supernatural, you really don't. But maybe this was a sign from the universe. Hesitantly you pick it up, taking the doll inside with you. You contemplate what to do with it so for now, it sits at the kitchen bench with you. Watching as you begin your task for the afternoon. Baking. 

With your mind occupied with the elf and what to do with it, it's not till you're halfway through a batch of muffins to realise you had no vanilla essence left. You contemplate finishing them up with no vanilla but you know your mother would not be pleased when she came round tomorrow and you offered her one. Exhausted from your day, you grab your keys and head out the door.

It's becoming a pattern with Han. Anywhere you go, he's there. He's walking up the hall, grocery bag in hand. He jumps when your door opens, eyes wide from the surprising sound. 

“Oh Y/N” He holds his heart, bending over. “You scared me!” 

You can’t help but laugh with him, or more accurately at him. He was charming despite his flaws. “Sorry! I was just heading out, to the supermarket as well actually” You point at his bag of groceries, subconsciously moving your keys in between your fingers. 

You're still standing in your open doorway and you see him look past you, but you move with him, subtly but enough to block his view. “You bake?”

“Yeah my mums coming tomorrow, just making some muffins for her but I ran out of vanilla essence”

“Well today is your lucky day” He lights up, reaching and digging in his bag of food before finally pulling out the small dark bottle. “You can have this one!”

“Oh no I can’t take that from you, I appreciate it but I’ll get my own”

“I insist” You're hesitant, your hands still close to your body. “Come on, it's yours seriously”

He places it on the ground between you two and steps away, hands in the air. “It won't bite!” He laughs, walking away. You pick up the bottle, it's still sealed. At least this saves you a trip to the market and a few dollars. 

You can't get Han out of your head. He's charming and gorgeous, with humour and smiles for days. But there's something about him, something wrong with him. You hate to word it that way but some of his behaviour is just disturbing. You can't put anything else against him apart from the fact he disturbs you. He seems to be a prominent figure around this apartment complex, and although you've only been there two days you've spent more time with him than you have anyone else. In fact, he's the only person you've seen who lives here. 

Getting yourself a coffee and a fresh muffin out of the tin, you sit with your laptop. A quick google search of your apartment complex comes up with thousands of results, more than you can process. You were expecting to find ads or reviews for the building, maybe even small businesses nearby. Instead, articles appear before your eyes.

“Rachel Bowen, a 20-year-old journalist has been reported missing, last seen at her apartment complex”

“Gina O'Brien, the second young female to go missing this year at the Mariners apartment complex”

“Police investigate residents at Mariners apartment complex after two more girls are reported missing”

“Within two years, four girls that were residents at the Mariners apartment complex have gone missing. Police believe there to be a connection as a fifth female has been reported missing, 23-year-old Nicole Mccarthy”

The names begin to blur, five girls, all disappearing from the building you are currently in. You close your laptop, reaching for your phone. You see your hand above it but as you press forward, you miss, instead falling on the floor. Your head is pounding, and an intense wave of nausea bubbles in your stomach. After moments of trying to calm yourself, you pull yourself back onto the couch. The room is spinning, but your eyes are caught on one thing. 

The glowing eyes of your toy elf. The bright red light is the last thing you see before it all fades away. 

Your mind is covered in fog as you try to pull your head away from the pillow, but it feels like a bowling ball. And you do not have the strength to pick up such a weight. You don't remember putting yourself to bed, but all of last night was a blur. The harder you thought about it, the more intense the pain in your head became. You wince, finally pulling your eyes open before shutting them once again at the bright light.

“Careful Y/N!” Your heart sinks, you know that voice. Your eyes aren't open but the pitch is enough. You have a vision of his bright eyes that are so empty, his smile that's covering something else inside. “I’m right here, you don’t need to stress”

You force yourself awake, opening your eyes to see him right in front of you. A softness comes across your hair as he strokes it. There's something so wrong about this but he's acting as if this is ok. Trying to turn away from him only results in a struggle, you can't move. Your hands are tied to your side and your legs are secured to the bed.

“Han” You begin to panic, the weight of the situation finally sinking in. Any worry you felt earlier about the toy was nothing compared to the anxiety eating you alive right now. All you see are the faces of those missing girls, you're about to become one. “Please” 

You don’t even know what you're asking for, but it becomes a beg as you cry out those same words. It gets lost in your sobs as tears fall down your cheeks. “Shhh Y/N” He stands away from the bed, looking down at you with pity. “I won’t hurt you”

“What is this Han?” You look around, you're still in your own apartment, you're in your own bed. It doesn't provide as much comfort as it once did. Just like last night, your eyes fall on the doll at the end of your bed.

“Well my little friend here,” He walks around your bed, capturing your attention as he picks up the elf. “He helped me a lot didn't he” He's proud of himself, with a toothless smile that screams for praise. But your mouth stays shut. 

“You know Y/N, the other girls put up a bit more of a fight, but not you. You just took that vanilla as if it was nothing.” He sits once again, rubbing your legs. “Aren’t you glad I got here before your mother did? Imagine what she would say if she found out you took food from a stranger?”

[hockeylvr59]

Having Patience Part 3 || Taylor Makar

Authors Note: Totally wasn’t inspired by a 2 second clip of Taylor from Umass to buckle down and actually write the next part of it instead of continuing to stew over it. This part is a little rough and a bit short, showing some more of the struggles Taylor is facing as a single dad but the next part is going to be fun. Pat in the Stanley Cup anyone?

Warnings: cursing // Word Count: 2,052

~~~~~

Christmas break had been the change of pace that Taylor had desperately needed. As soon as his finals were over he was on a plane with his mom and Patience, flying back to Calgary for a full ten days. He saw his family, he saw some friends, he went skating with Mark a couple times and he enjoyed watching Pat on her first Christmas even if she was still too young to really enjoy it.

There were moments that were bittersweet when Taylor let himself wonder if only for a moment what it would be like if Pat had her mom here too, if they were spending Christmas as a family the way he had imagined so many times. But he knew that it wasn’t healthy to dwell on those thoughts so instead he just did his best to enjoy the Christmas that life had handed him and sharing it with his infant daughter. 

He had laughed seeing her pull Cale’s hair and then give a two toothed grin at her uncle who she hadn’t seen other than by FaceTime for months. He’d come home a few times to Pat asleep on her grandpa’s chest and Taylor knew that he really was lucky to have his family’s support. 

___

It felt like no time at all from when Taylor had arrived back in Amherst with Pat to when he was packing his bag for his first full weekend roadtrip. So far all their road games had been within a few hours drive away and he had only been gone for a single night max. But now they were going out to Michigan and that meant almost four full days away from his baby girl. Taylor wasn’t sure how he was going to handle it. 

His mom had reminded him over and over that Pat would be fine but all Taylor could do was bite his tongue as the thought ‘but what if I’m not fine’ rolled through his brain. Grabbing a hoodie from his closet, Taylor turned back to his bag only to find the seven month old who held his heart scooting her way into it from where he’d left her with a toy just a few feet away on the floor of his bedroom. 

“Daddy wishes he could pack you away and take you with me.” Taylor murmured, scooping her up to shove the sweatshirt inside. With the baby’s protestations of being derailed from her task, Taylor sighed and kissed her head before setting her back down. “You’re going to be good for grandma right Pat?” He asked, grabbing the bathroom supplies he’d set on his bed earlier when he’d gathered them from the bathroom. Again when he’d turned, Pat had scooted her way to his bag and was laying on it, her toothy grin and bright blue grey eyes staring back at him. 

“Yeah I know Pat. This sucks.” 

___

Getting home from Michigan felt like it took forever for Taylor. They’d lost both games, even though he’d only played in one of them. And while he couldn’t deny that it was nice to get basically a full night’s sleep, he’d still woken up multiple times each night expecting to hear Pat so it wasn’t truly all that restful. He’d talked to his mom and therefore Pat once before Saturday’s game and his heart had shattered when she’d started crying as his mom tried to explain that he would be home tomorrow. 

Sore from playing and from travel, Taylor tossed his bag into the trunk of the car as soon as the bus unloaded back on campus. It was already after midnight and all he wanted was to get home to his baby girl. 

The streets were quiet and thankfully it was only a short drive back to the house. Grabbing his bags so that his mom wouldn’t yell at him later, he slipped inside and silently made his way upstairs after resetting the alarm system. Tossing his bag into his room to deal with later, Taylor crept to the nursery and peeked in. Pat was currently asleep but her sheets were rumpled underneath her having been pulled off the mattress with her fitful sleep. 

Deep down he knew that he should just leave her but this was the longest he’d been away from her and he suspected she needed his touch just as much as he needed hers. So he carefully scooped her up and held her close, body clicking back into place with the soft little puffs of air falling from her lips. 

“How bout you sleep with daddy tonight?” He whispered, tiptoeing back to his room to slide under the covers with her, her tiny body snug against his chest. 

“Daddy missed you so damn much.” He breathed with a yawn, rubbing his hand gently up and down her back until she stretched lazily before falling deeper asleep, little snores showing how congested she was either from a winter cold or just from all the crying she’d been doing over the last few days. 

There was definitely some appeal to a full night’s sleep but honestly, Taylor would take this any damn day. Nothing was better than having his baby girl in his arms once more. 

And though he knew that if he did end up making the NHL that there would be roadtrips far longer than this one but he put those thoughts aside knowing that there were a million obstacles to complete before that would ever be a concern. 

As hard as it was going away and not being with his daughter, it made coming home all the more worth it. And that was what he had to focus on to keep putting one foot in front of the other. 

******

Taylor’s ears were ringing incessantly as Pat wailed in his arms. She’d been battling an ear infection and had been absolutely inconsolable for the past 24 hours. And of course, of course her ailments once again happened when his mom wasn’t around. To top it all off, it was midterm week and Taylor had his biggest test at 9am which was now only about 8 hours away. 

He’d done his best to study ahead of time so he didn’t feel too panicked in that regard, but he knew that taking a major test without proper sleep was a very very bad idea. 

Yet no matter what he did, Pat wouldn’t stop her high pitched pained screams and the clock was ticking away little by little. 

Pacing with Pat, Taylor scrolled through his team group chat for the first time all day trying to catch up on everything, throwing some emoji reactions onto certain messages including one of his classmates whining about the midterm they both had in the morning. As he continued checking social media while pat screamed in his ear, Taylor’s phone buzzed in his hands. 

Bobby T: Don’t you have a final first thing T? What are you still doing up? Cramming? Because you know that’s not productive. 

Reading his Captain’s text, Taylor sighed and shifted Pat a bit to have two hands to respond with. 

Taylor: Trust me, I wish I wasn’t up right now but it’s kind of hard to sleep with a screaming baby whose ear hurts with mom out of town. 

Bobby T: What’s your address again? 

Taylor: Why’s that relevant? 

Bobby T: Because I kind of need it to come over and watch Pat for you. 

Bobby T: And don’t even say that you’re good. You never ask for help T, so take it when offered. I’ve got nothing going on until after lunch tomorrow so if I’m up a few more hours it’s not going to kill me. You need the sleep and we can’t have you flunking any midterms. 

Taylor sighed at the message, wanting to protest, but knowing that Bobby was right deep down. Sending the address back, he dropped his phone on the island before moving to tidy up a little while Pat continued to fuss in his arms. Kissing her head he whispered softly that she needs to sleep so that her body can heal but that he knows it hurts. She’d started antibiotics yesterday so he could only hope that they would start to take effect soon and make her less miserable. 

Twenty minutes later there was a knock at the front door and Taylor moved to it, letting in his captain as Pat paused her cries for a moment and twisted her head to peek and see who this new person was before starting up all over again. 

“Not grandma. I know.” He mumbled softly to her before turning to Bobby. “You really don’t have to do this, she hasn’t exactly been her quiet self.” He declared, watching as Bobby kicked shoes off onto the mat and set his keys down. 

“You look like hell T.” Bobby declared. “Seriously, go get some sleep. Pat and I will get acquainted. 

At his Captain’s prodding, Taylor reluctantly passed Pat over and winced when her wail grew louder. How she still had any lung power he wasn’t sure after hours of crying. 

“Go. We’re as good as can be. I can come get you if I need you.” Bobby insisted again shifting Pat before waving Taylor off. Looking over his shoulder, Taylor climbed the stairs to his room feeling guilty for passing Pat off but knowing that he did need at least a couple of hours of sleep if possible if he was going to make it to his midterm let alone pass it. 

Setting an alarm, Taylor slid into bed and threw a spare pillow over his ears to dampen his daughter’s cries. Parenthood was so not easy. 

****

The beeping of his alarm jolted Taylor awake and he looked around confused, honestly not having expected to get more than an hour or so of sleep. Instead, the sun was up and shining and when he made his way downstairs, he found Pat sitting on the living room floor with a bottle of milk in hand, chugging softly. 

Seeing him she kicked her little legs and made a cooing sound around her bottle. At the same time, his Captain came into view sitting just a few feet away from her with a cup of coffee. 

“Pot is still hot.” He stated, seeing Taylor who was just standing there in shock. 

“How..? She’s not crying.” Taylor mumbled breathlessly. 

“Gave her pain meds at 4 and again at 8 and used a couple of warm compresses and she seems to be feeling better.” Bobby shrugged. “Go take a shower and head to your test. I’ll hang here with Pat.” He insisted, again shaking his head at Taylor’s silent protest. 

“Seriously. Accept the help T. If you feel like you need to do more then you can change her diaper before you go.” Bobby laughed. “She’s bound to crash here shortly and with a baby monitor I can put her down and just nap on your couch until she wakes or you get back. So go. We’re good.” 

Before Taylor headed out the door, Bobby patted him on the shoulder. 

“No one gives you enough credit T.” Bobby declared softly. “There’s no way that I could have made it through college and played hockey while raising a kid. It’s obvious that it hasn’t always been easy for you but dude if you ever need anything, just ask for it. We’re a team and we’re here to help you, you don’t have to do it all alone.” 

Grabbing his bag, Taylor nodded and shrugged his shoulders. 

“Yeah but you know how it is.” He mumbled. “You’re a good captain Bobby. We’re going to miss you next year.” 

“Just because I’m not in Amherst doesn’t mean we’re not friends and that I’m not here for you.” Bobby declared. “You can always reach out for advice or just an ear if you have things you need to get off your chest. That won’t change.” 

And as he snuggled Pat after taking his midterm, Taylor chewed on those words, it may have taken a while but Amherst was starting to feel a little more like home. At least for now. He looked forward to seeing all of the memories he could make with Pat here, one day at a time.

[donnerpartyofone]

last night during a bout of insomnia i spent a long time going through that dalle2 blog, and i learned some really troubling things about what people are using it for. i mean, they trouble me anyway. i'm a little leery of feeding the AIs in general, but it seems obvious to me that the best use of them is to get them to do something insane and hilarious, to prompt them to do or say something really surreal or dadaist. they're good when they surprise you, and boring or actively worrisome when they're completely coherent, or when they make what looks exactly like the kind of corporate clip art that zillions of anonymous, underpaid artists have been making for years. right? but what i learned from scrolling through that blog is that there's a whole lot of people who

a) want the AI to make things that are ONLY cute or cool, b) treat this like a competitive activity, and c) think that whatever the AI makes out of their cute or cool prompt is, like, something they maintain personal authorship of (i guess that's the mentality of the whole #myedit thing, where you pretend to be creatively responsible for a preexisting image by just cropping it slightly, or something, but ANYWAY that's another can of worms).

if you basically prefer adorableness, or badassness, to wild psychedelic absurdities, then you are just a radically different type of person from me, which is what it is. "it takes all kinds". but i can't help feeling like if you have the opportunity to ask a robot to make you anything you want, anything you can possibly imagine wanting to see, and you can't do any better than "kitties under a christmas tree", then you have a problem. and then if the AI didn't make your kitties as adorable as you were hoping, and you are compelled to go to the trouble of making a self-pitying meme that says "their AI art vs. my AI art" showing a perfectly realistic cat like from a hallmark card next to a deranged-looking pseudo-kitty plus a sobbing emoji to show how sad you are that your version isn't completely bland and normal...well, i think you might be missing part of your soul, and furthermore i think you may have lost it to that fandom mentality where everybody is painstakingly imitating the same art style to compete with each other for who can make the most familiar, unsurprising, unprovocative, anonymous thing possible. i think that if the most outrageous thing you can think of asking an AI to make for you is like, a dragon flying over a castle, or a boy wizard, or the fucking millennium falcon--something you've seen thousands of times before--and you're delighted when the result looks exactly like every single crappy commercial version of that idea ever made, then something is fucking wrong with you. even the guys who are trying way too hard to be funny and "weird" are in better shape, because at least they're trying to have new experiences.

but don't worry too much if i'm describing you, because no matter what kind of boring overexposed garbage you're making the AI imitate to satisfy your stifling fantasy of endless sameness, you're still better than the guy who just keeps asking it for different pictures of their fursona. like if the singularity comes and our technology decides to rise up and wipe us out, that's going to be the exact reason why.

[jchnstones]

Loves me more | ben chilwell & mason mount

In which mason has recently moved in with Ben, and both proceed to bicker over who Oscar, the dog, loves more.

& so the christmas countdown begins! i hope you guys enjoy all of the imagines I post! you’ll be taken on a rollercoaster hehe. <3 merry Christmas!

word count: 1,953

BURIED UNDER several layers, head dunked under a woolly hat, mason is on his knees, bent over to reach the dogs height.

He and Ben had been living together for almost a year now, mason pleading for joint custody of Oscar ever since the first day he'd moved his things into the house. finally giving in four months later, ben needed a way to keep mason happy and quiet, so agreed. mason had always had a soft spot for the dog, but the shared ownership of their companion was driving ben slowly insane.

"this one first," mason says, gently placing one of oscar's front paws through the hole of his red harness. he beams at oscar, pulling his other paw through as the dog stares back at him willingly. he clips the harness together at both sides, adjusting it over his body to fit him comfortably. satisfied, he plants a kiss over the fur on his head, standing from his knees.

"do you not think it's a bit too cold for him today?" you say, zipping up your jacket. mason moving in with Ben meant you hardly ever had the house alone on date nights anymore, mason intruding some nights, sneaking in to steal the snacks. you loved having him around more-he was like a brother to you.

"He’ll be fine," mason says, running his hand over Oscar's fur. "we won't be out for long."

"y/n is right, mase, we could just leave it 'till tomorrow." ben states, walking into the hallway from the kitchen. bens hugged into a blue puffer coat, accompanied by grey joggers as usual.

mason frowns, now connecting Oscar's lead to his harness. he shakes his head in protest, hand gripped around the handle ready to get started on the walk.

"I said we won't be too long. our boy needs a walk so he'll get one."

ben rolls his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips. you smile, a giggle threatening to escape. you manage to stop it as you turn to face away from him to avoid any confrontation. you knew he hated whenever mason called oscar theirs instead of bens, but he let it slide every time. you could see it bubbling up inside, and eventually, he'll explode.

"well, let's take our dog for a walk then." ben agrees, walking over to mason and Oscar who're waiting by the front door. He raises his hand to take a hold of the lead from mason, but mason tugs it away from him towards his chest.

"well come on then, let me take him." he says, eyebrows furrowed as he wiggles his fingers back and forth for mason to pass Oscar over to him. mason shakes his head, stepping back away from him.

"It’s my turn to hold his lead." the boy says, staring blankly at ben.

you watch as the boys continue to bicker, arms folded. you're zipped up, scarf wrapped around your neck with matching gloves over your hands to keep the warmth in. it had been snowing the previous night, the frost still lingering in the air with snow still spilled over the pavements, glistening from trees and covering any patch of grass there once was.

"You're being childish," he replies, throwing his arms to the side. bens cheeks are flushes as he grows heated, anger building.

"no, you're being childish ben. look at him, he just wants to get going. now move from the door and we'll leave."

Ben moves his eyes from mason and down to oscar who stares blankly back at him. he sits on the marble floor, eyes sunken as he waits, bored, for his owners to stop squabbling.

"yes, because he looks so excited." ben mocks, snickering.

unable to stand the boys' pathetic dispute and feeling sorry for poor oscar, you step forward closer to them, taking the lead out of masons hand.

"How about I hold him this time? will that settle you both?" you question rhetorically, stepping back towards the door. your fingers fiddle with the lock before it unlatches, the door opening.

"whatever. you're so annoying." mason huffs. he follows as you and Oscar step outside and into the bitter air, Ben locking the door behind the four of you. a smile tugs at his lips as he finds your gaze, his feet crunching in the snow as he speed walks to catch up to you. fingers interlocking with yours, he squeezes your hand as though to thank you from masons constant bicker.

/

after ten or so minutes, the four of you are halfway through your daily route. Oscar carries a stick in his mouth, his paws leaving tiny adorable marks in the snow as you trudge along. bens arm is hooked to yours as you huddle together, breathe fogging up in front of you as you breathe. you're still clung on to Oscar's lead, the boys calmed down only moments after setting off. the conversation leaping from topic to topic- christmas plans to the boys final games of the year and finally to mason mocking a 'christmas proposal.'

"we don't even live together yet mase," you reply, eyebrows raised as mason cackles at his own remarks.

"you should move in with us. the more the merrier I say." ben suggests half jokingly, he nudges your side as he tilts his head, nose gleaming red through the winter air.

"And get in the way of you three playing happy families? respectfully, no thank you." you all laugh, the chorus echoing around the three of you.

"at least oscar won't have to deal with triple custody." ben chuckles, aiming his words at mason as they walk side by side in a line. mason pouts, shoving his hands in his coat pockets to heat them up a little. "And what's that supposed to mean?" mason inquires, dragging his feet along in the snow.

you look at ben, him instantly turning to you, eyes widening. here we go again, you think, ben reciprocating the thought.

"nothing," ben starts, "but you're a bit over the top when it comes to oscar. he's not even yours. not really. He's mine."

"Ben!" You gasp, returning the nudge he gave you earlier. although it was true, you knew he'd hurt masons feelings. he loved Oscar and adored caring for him, but agreed that he sometimes thought he was continuously in charge of him.

"no, he's ours." mason protests. He stops, you and ben copying him as you notice he's no longer by your side after a couple of steps. oscar tugs at the lead, sitting in the snow once he learns his owners have come to a halt. his stick pokes out of his mouth, eyes studying the park and the white trees that surround him.

"boys come on, I don't think oscar-" you're cut off by a stroppy ben, who has let go of the hook around your arm. he places one hand on his side, the sass oozing out of his stance. "He's mine. And I bet he loves me more."

"Absolutely not," mason snaps, wailing his hands in front of him. "he loves me more." you're stood between the pair, lip tugged at one side, eyebrows furrowing. this was such a silly fight, but one you know Ben would happily have for his fur baby. ben nods towards oscar, who's now lay unbothered, chewing on the stick, fur covered in snow.

"well there's only one way to find out." mason deflates, his eyes rolling. he knew exactly what Ben was suggesting, and with him having a couple years extra with oscar, he knew he was losing this battle.

"Mase, you go stand over there," ben points to a tree, a couple of feet away from where they stood. "And I'll stand over opposite you. y/n, put oscy in the middle, and whoever he runs to, he loves the most."

you sigh, watching as pair disperse to their allocates areas. bending down to oscar, you pat him on the back sympathetically. "daddy and uncle mase are arguing oscy," you whisper, taking his stick and shoving it in your coat pocket for later. "I think mommy should adopt you. but don't tell daddy I said that." you scoop him up into your arms, carrying him over to the middle of the boys.

"okay, on the count of three," mason shouts, hands cupped around his mouth. "one," you place oscar down, he sits staring at you as you hold your hands out to him to stop him running prematurely. "two," ben shouts. he's stood, knees bent with his hands on his knees, ready to call oscar over to him.

"three."

you step away from the dog, allowing him to do his own thing. ben yells oscar's name repeatedly, mason whistles and claps to get his attention. oscar doesn't move an inch, still sat staring at you as you stand back from the scene. he moves his head either side of him, shooting both boys a glance before laying down in the snow. he rests his head on his paws, nose barely touching the cold snow.

you laugh, observing as both boys squint at the dog, huffing as he does nothing.

"he's not moving," ben states, pointing at the dog sprawled in the middle. mason places a hand to the back of his head, scratching his scalp awkwardly as he waits for something to happen.

"maybe if we try once more," he calls over, nodding as to convince himself his plan will work.

once again, ben bends his knees, hands patting on his thighs to invite his furry friend over. "here oscy, come to daddy," he shrieks repeatedly.

mason clicks his fingers, whistles some more and howls to try and attract him, but nothing works.

defeated, the pair rejoin in the middle, either side of Oscar. you waddle over them, hands tugged into your pockets. "You weren't supposed to do that," ben says, crouching to him, fingers running through his fur. Mason joins him, his hand patting him on the head.

"I told you he's our dog. He loves us both equally," mason beams, booping the dog on his nose. Oscar stands, tail wagging as his paws dig in the snow. "he was protesting," you giggle, watching as oscar starts to play. "he told me that he doesn't like it when daddy and uncle mase fight over him.”

ben looks up at you, lips tucked into his mouth as he shakes his head before he returns to his feet, pushing you playfully once he's up. "Give over you. he just didn't want to hurt uncle mason's feelings." ben pouts mockingly at mason, wiping fake tears away from his eyes.

mason jumps up, his smile reaching his eyes. He scoops some snow into his hands and tosses it at ben. the snow splatters on his coat, ben watching as mason laughs. "you absolute jokester," ben chuckles, shaking his head at mason whose bent over double with laughter.

"have we done kissing and making up now? It's absolutely freezing." you pick up Oscar's lead and grip the handle, shivering underneath your thick cotton coat. you return his stick to his mouth, his tail waggling quickly from side to side whilst his eyes light up at the sight of his wooden friend.

ben hooks his arm to yours again, burying his chin into his coat. as the four of you start to walk back home, crunching your way through the think snow mason whines. "Can I hold his lead now?" you both look at him, unable to read if he was being serious. suddenly, mason bursts into hysteria once more, pointing at the pair of you.

"Honestly, your faces." he chuckles, dimples showing.

"But seriously, next time it's my turn."

[batgurl1989]

The Test

Summary: You find out your pregnant, but Henry is busy building his computer.

Word Count: 2184

Warnings: none. Fluff.

A/N: requests are open so is taglist. Enjoy!

Taglist: @rmtndew @henrynerdfan @cynic-spirit @diegos-butt @princesssterek @daddys-littlewhitegirl

Plus sign. Well that happened. You stared down at the plastic stick, the little screen telling you something you felt you already knew given the last couple of days. That, and some quick math had you peeing on a stick in the upstairs bathroom. Capping the end, you held it in your hand, wondering what to do with it. You could simply throw it away, and come up with a way to tell Henry without it. You didn't need proof, he would believe you given what you two had decided to do with the time the pandemic and the shutting down of filming had given you.

But you were bored. And if Henry got to amuse himself building a computer on the dining room table, you could amuse yourself too.

Kal greeted you when you opened the bathroom door, hopeful you would give him the attention his dad wouldn't. Henry had been up since dawn building his computer. It was like Nerd Christmas for him, and you were fairly sure he hadn't slept much last night out of excitement for today. You couldn't exactly begrudge him this since you had taken a week off when Devil May Cry 5 came out last year. That was one of the many reasons you and Henry worked; you were both nerds.

"Hey buddy. Let me just check in with your dad, and then we will go for a walk." You scratched the American Akita behind his ears, leaning down to kiss his nose when he offered it to you.

You tucked the pregnancy test into your hand, pressing it up your arm so that you were hiding it. You could hear the magic happening in the dining room, the clicking of parts coming together, the clinking of the screwdriver as he secured them. You couldn't help but smile as you poked your head around the corner to see Henry hunched over the table in his favourite blue tank top, lines of concentration creasing his forehead.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Henry glanced up to flash you one of his dazzling smiles. Your heart thumped in your chest every time he gave you one. "Have a good sleep?"

You shrugged as you sidled up beside him, careful to keep the test hidden. Henry turned in his chair, resting his hands on your hips as you stepped between his legs. You loved how dainty he made you feel when he held you close, enveloping you in his warm embrace. Slowly you leaned down, caressing your lips against his. You kept your eyes open, watching him carefully as you stealthily placed the test on the table behind some computer parts while he was distracted by your kiss.

"I'm going to take Kal for a walk, so you have the house to yourself for a bite." You whispered with a final peck. Henry's attention seemed divided at the mention of giving him quiet time. Cupping his cheek, you couldn't help the grin on your face. "Have fun."

Henry gave your hips a squeeze of appreciation before he turned his attention back to the computer laying in pieces across the table. You had to fight the giggle that threatened to bubble from your lips as you usher Kal out of the dining room. You grabbed a granola bar on your way out of the house, tucking your phone into your back pocket after making sure the ringer was on.

The clock was running now. You wondered how long it would take for Henry to discover the pregnancy test as you clipped Kal's leash to his collar and left the house.

***

When you got back from the trails, Henry hadn’t moved, but the computer was coming along. He now had a GoPro camera strapped to his head, filming himself for his Instagram page. Without a word, you glanced around, seeing the pregnancy test sticking out from behind a few parts still, right where you left it. Silently chuckling, you made your way upstairs as a wave of morning sickness crashed over you. How you thought this had just been a stomach bug was beyond you.

After emptying your stomach and brushing your teeth, you crawled into bed, suddenly exhausted down to your bones. Curling on your side, you cursed yourself for getting pregnant. Not that you weren’t happy. There was just so much about pregnancy that was not sitting well with you. Hugging Henry’s pillow to your front, you sighed, allowing his scent to wash over you, calming the turmoil you felt inside. He would make a great dad, there was no doubt about that. You, however, weren’t sure how you would be as a mom.

Tears pricked your eyes, but you fought them down. Wasn’t it too early in the pregnancy for your hormones to be this out of whack? You refused to let yourself become a bumbling mess about this. There had to be something that could help.

Giving up on a nap, you decided to have a bath. The warm water sounded so soothing right then. Tiptoeing to the bathroom, though you were pretty sure Henry was too engrossed in his computer building to notice that you were having a bath at an odd time in the day, you shed your clothes. Eyeing yourself in the mirror, you turned sideways, trying to imagine what you would look like pregnant. You hoped you weren’t like your sister who seemed to be pregnant everywhere. A little beach ball on the front was wishful thinking, you knew, but isn’t that what every pregnant woman hoped for?

As you waited for the tub to fill, you decided to light your lavender and honey candle, hoping it would help calm your jumpy nerves. You couldn’t decide which was more exhausting, the jumpy nerves, or the fact that every few hours you were emptying your stomach. Dipping your toe in, you sighed at the welcoming warmth. Sliding your body into the warm hug, you realized just how achy your body was. Pregnancy sucked, you mentally grumbled.

The water lapped around you, and the candle filled the room with its relaxing scent. You felt your body relax as your eyes slid close.

***

“WHAT!?” You jolted out of your stupor when you heard Henry call out. Your brain felt like it was shroud in a fog, and it took you a moment to remember what he was doing, and why he might be yelling so loudly. When he filmed himself for social media, he usually kept pretty calm and quiet. Nothing like what he sounded like now.

His heavy foot falls thundered up the stairs. You were just sitting up in the tub as he threw the door to the bedroom open, not caring as it thumped hard against the wall. From the bathroom, you could see that the GoPro was still attached to his head. You sent a silent pray out that the GoPro was off, and Henry wasn’t filming you when he turned to see you in the bathroom attached to the bedroom. At least you knew it wasn’t live, or you would have to have a discussion with him about that. His followers didn’t need to see you taking a bath.

He held up the stick to you, his face a mask of disbelief.

Your smile told him everything he needed to know. He was across the room in a matter of seconds, stepping into the tub while you laughed and shrieked. Water sloshed over the edge, splashing on to the tiled floor and making a mess as he lowered himself on top of you. His body surrounded yours, and he didn’t seem to care that he was soaking his clothes, putting his GoPro at risk, and wreaking havoc on the bathroom in general. He cupped your face, staring at you for a moment, letting you see the pure joy on his face.

Your heart jumped at his reaction. You hadn’t realized how nervous you had been about what he would say until he had you in his arms, a giant grin curving his lips. He kissed your face all over, sweet pecks as laughter rumbled in his chest.

“You going to tell me how long that test has been sitting there?” Henry asked gently, pulling away with a smile still in place on his face. You grinned, glancing at the clock in the bedroom to see what time it was. Henry’s fingers tapped your neck impatiently where he was still cupping you.

“About 5 hours apparently.” You snorted. Though you had known it was going to take him awhile to notice the test, you didn’t think it would have been 5 hours. Note to self: when Henry is focused, it is no joke. The look on his face made your snort turn into a full laugh as his eyes bugged out of his face. Calming down, you blinked innocently at him. “Sorry, babe, but I didn’t want to disturb you when you were having so much fun building your computer.”

“I highly doubt that is the reason.” Henry fixed you with a mock stern look. He growled at you, before leaning in for a searing kiss. Your toes curled in the water, and the heat of the kiss shot through your body, lighting all your nerves on fire. His lips slowly mirrored yours, his tongue exploring your mouth. Your hands pulled at his soaked shirt, trying to get at the warm skin underneath. Henry laughed as he pulled away, shaking his head. “Ah ah. Not until you tell me the real reason?”

“Not fair!” You stuck your lower lip out in a mock pout. Henry quirked an eyebrow, making you cave. “I wanted to see how long it would take you to find it, okay? I was curious.”

Henry snorted, shaking his head again. He didn’t doubt for a second that that was your true intention. You had proven that you did things out of curiosity just to see what would happen all the time. There was still a burnt patch in the grass from the last time you were curious. He leaned up, and peeled his shirt off, finally giving you what you wanted. You ran your hands hungrily over his chest, and around his back. Henry’s face softened when you pulled him down to you for a hug. You tucked your face into his neck, sighing contentedly.

“We can get out now.” You mumbled, realizing how uncomfortable he probably was. The tub wasn’t the biggest, and hugging was definitely awkward.

With one last kiss, Henry got out of the tub, spilling more water onto the floor. He ignored the large puddle, his attention fully on you, as he offered you his hands to help you out of the tub. He wrapped you in a fluffy towel, running another one over your arms and legs to dry you. You felt a little weird being doted on like that, but it seemed like something he felt he needed to do. He combed through your hair, untangling the wet ends.

“Pajamas or clothes?” Henry asked when he was done, smiling at you in the mirror.

“PJs please.” You returned his smile. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder before disappearing in the bedroom. Looking around at the mess, you decided to follow him so your pjs wouldn’t end up wet.

“Are you happy?” You asked quietly, apprehension gripping your stomach and heart. A wave of nausea washed over you, and you couldn’t tell if it was from morning sickness or not knowing how he would answer.

Henry paused in his search for the flannel pajamas you loved so much to turn to you. He took in the look on your face and abandoned his search completely, coming to stand in front of you. You worried your lower lip as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. He brought his hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking across your lip, encouraging your teeth to let it go. He tilted your chin up so you were looking him directly in the eye. His blue eyes were a storm of emotions that you couldn’t decipher.

“Did I plan for this? No. Did I think I wanted this? Also, no.” You tore your eyes from his, trying to turn away from him as the hurt started to eat away at you. Henry gently turned you back to him with his hands on your shoulders. He squatted down a little so he could look you in the eyes again. “Am I ridiculously happy about it? Absolutely. Do I want it now? Also, absolutely.”

Your heart leapt at his words, a lightness floating inside you. He pulled you into his warm body, enveloping you in his arms. Tucked against him, you didn’t doubt for a second that he wanted this. Wanted you. Wanted your baby. Tears pricked your eyes, and a sob caught in your throat.

“Happy tears.” You told Henry when he realized you were crying. Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, he hugged you tighter, and you never wanted to be let go.

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

@loverhymeswith requested: 10. Putting up lights around the house and someone falls from the roof

Romanticgumchewer's Christmas Spectacular - DAY FIVE - Arose Such a Clatter (Rick Flag x OC)

Summary: Dee has always dreamed about having a house with beautiful lights all aglow for the Christmas season and Rick wanted to see that dream come true....no matter the cost I guess.

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC / Squad Family & OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 1222

Warnings: fluff, falling from a roof, injury

Timeline: December 2021

if i go masterlist

A/N: please look at the timeline date before reading, all of these Christmas pieces are taking place different years!

“Babe, I’m gonna be fine! Go back inside!” Rick called.

He was standing on the roof of their house in North Carolina, tool belt slung around his hips and a massive pile of Christmas lights piled at his feet. While he was gathering the lights and climbing the ladder not minutes ago, he recalled all those December’s in their Louisiana apartment when Delphia would tell him that she couldn’t wait to have a house to string lights on. Now, they had the house, it was December, and he was determined to make her long-time dream come true.

“Are you sure?” Delphia yelled back, arms wrapped tight around herself to stave off the cold, “I could get Abner or somebody to be up there with you!”

“I got this!” he laughed, “Just go inside, baby girl!”

“Fine, fine.” She raised her arms in defeat as she disappeared from his view.

Rick grinned in triumph. He knew the last few months had been stressful for her, with moving states and housing a bunch of criminals. And he just wanted to do something special for her that she had always wanted. To show his appreciation for everything she had been doing.

The measurements were taken, the lights were checked and untangled, the correct equipment had been purchased. Now it was all a matter of lining the gutters and windows with beautiful, twinkling lights.

He started placing the light clips into the gutters first, making sure to space them out so there were plenty to use for the windows after as he moved along the porch roof to reach the upper gutters. He stood back with his hands on his hips once he was done. Admiring the work that took him less time than he thought, he smiled to himself. He was going to be done in record time — maybe even in time for lunch.

Then he took another step back, thinking there was plenty of room but that he was farther away from the lights he needed to string up. But then he felt his boot catch on the gutter, his balance tip. For a moment Rick thought he could correct himself, put all his weight on his other foot and throw out his hands to steady. The pull of gravity was too strong, however, and suddenly he felt weightless.

Plummeting towards the frosted ground.

Delphia had reluctantly gone inside. She just had a feeling that Rick stringing up the lights by himself was a bad idea. But she couldn’t deny the excitement at having a fully decorated house that was all her own.

Now she sat reading in the front room with Abner, sat at the couch that had its back pressed up against the windows that overlooked the front yard. It was easy, while she sat there and read about the myth of King Midas and its historical connections to the Turkish settlements of the Greek empire, to almost forget that Rick was outside on the roof. To forget all her worries and focus on something that she enjoyed and intrigued her.

But it vaguely itched at the back of her mind when she saw a dark shape fall past the window and a thump echo from outside. Abner looked up from his own fantasy novel from the armchair beside the couch with a furrowed brow. He and Delphia looked at each for a moment, both of them wondering if the other saw what could have been a figment of their imagination through the window.

Delphia decided to set down her book and investigate first. What she found didn’t necessarily surprise her, but it was a culmination of all her fears and a wave of panic instantly took over. There, lying in the grass by the sidewalk, was Rick flat on his back.

“Oh, my God!” Delphia gasped as she shot up from the couch.

She didn’t even bother to put on her shoes before she was yanking open the door and running outside. The ground was freezing to her socked feet but she didn’t care. Rick was laying spread eagle on the ground after falling at least twelve feet — he could be seriously hurt. He had probably been through worse in his life, but it was still terrifying.

“Rick!” she yelled as she dropped to her knees at his side, checking him for wounds or injury, “Are you okay? Is anything hurt?”

He groaned as he peeled open his eyes. He seemed okay. Nothing appeared broken or out of place. He was definitely going to be feeling it for the next few days — but at least he hadn’t landed funny or worse: on his head.

“Just my pride,” he grumbled.

Delphia sighed in relief. “Come on — let’s get you inside. Can you move?”

“Yeah, yeah.” With her assistance, Rick slowly sat up, feeling a sharp pain go up and down his spine with a wince. “Did — Did anyone else see that?”

“Just Abner,” she replied, smoothing a hand over the back of his head to make sure he wasn’t bleeding or anything, “He wouldn’t tell anybody — and if he does I’ll beat him up.”

Rick huffed in response. Then he allowed Delphia to help him to his feet and lead him inside with an arm around his waist. Every step ached, his back screaming at him to just lay back down in the dirt and hope he sank into the earth. He was now remembering fondly a time when he would bounce right back up from a fall like that. And all that pain was only serving to remind him that he wasn’t a young man anymore — and that maybe he should have had somebody up on the roof with him.

Hours later, Rick was still laying up in bed — Delphia had even brought him his lunch. He was laying on his stomach with a heating pad and an ice pack laying across his spine all at once. It now only really hurt when he moved, but what ached more than anything was definitely still his pride.

“Hey, baby,” Delphia said as she crept into the room, “You doin’ okay?”

“M’alright,” he muttered as he attempted to sit up.

A grimace pulled at his face as the ice pack and heating pad slipped from his back. He then moved up the bed so he could sit up against the headboard.

“You sure we don’t need to go to the doctor?” she asked as she stuffed the heating pad back behind him.

“I’m sure,” Rick sighed, “Just feel bad I didn’t finish the lights for ya.”

She sat down on the edge of the bed and gave him a look. “Rick, I appreciate you wanting to fulfill my Christmas decor dreams — but I don’t want you killing yourself over them either. As long as you’re with me on Christmas…I don’t need anything else.”

“What about the food?”

“Okay, yes, the food is pretty important.”

“And the movies?”

“Hmm, you have a point.” She smiled as she leaned closer to him. “I do love Christmas — but I love you more.”

“Wow,” he whispered with lifted brows, “Now that’s sayin’ somethin’.”

Delphia kissed him soft and sweet, but when he moved to deepen it he winced something fierce — his back spasming.

“Maybe we just stick to cuddles and White Christmas?” she suggested.

“That sounds perfect.”

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