#so I can see the same 3 Mariah Carey songs I listen to

[bambinabina]

these results were achieved by listening to the same songs on repeat until I ran them to the ground

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "The Light Within"

take a breath and choose the photo/number that calls you the most to read words of wisdom and guidance from your fire/light within. we all have a passionate, burning side, we all have a light inside of us, so with this reading I'd like to focus on the message it has for you. Thank you @faerytreealtars for somehow inspiring this reading.

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1 (you may be called by pile 3 as well)

"is the flame off or on?". Pile 1, you may feel drained atm. It feels like there's only a little hope/passion left inside of you, but at times you can't even see it that well. It may take you a certain effort to reach it and go on. You don't have to overdo stuff. Even things you're passionate about (despite atm I feel you're feeling really low and kinda losing hopes on everything). Take a break, give yourself a break. You probably feel drained because you've been healing something, maybe your emotions, or overthinking... it could even be stuff from your childhood (you're closing a cycle very likely, an ego-death). Your inner light wants you to stop for a minute and come back to yourself. To gain strenght to go forward, to focus on what is important for real and what you can control. It's time to make a change, to guide yourself towards a new beginning. It's time to give your heart what it wants, or at least try with all you have: you cannot fail if you give your all like a burning fire. No matter how it'll go. But first, collect your firey energy. Take a breath before start running. Use some kindness to yourself.

extra message: listen to your intuition, let it guide you (trust yourself) -if your body/mind tell you to stop, follow them.

song: obsessed | mariah carey

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pile 2

"it's all in your hands". You probably have a lot of fire in your chart or you come off as a fiery person. Birds/eagles may be a sign or symbol for you. You're probably also "preying" over something (or someone uh), I feel the same energy of predators ready to go hunting. It's either this, as in you're trying to get somewhere/reach any goal of yours and putting in work, or you're sometimes still blocked by emotions (especially anger, I feel). Maybe even little blockages or annoyances on your path can cause a huge reaction in you? Well, an overreaction, more likely. And you can't very much control it, which honestly isn't that bad: to keep all this energy locked in would end up being pretty much self distructive for you (so if it happens to you, find outlets for it: go running, exercise, dance... move your body in any way you like. Burn the energy, do not let it burn you). The light within wants you to balance a little more its energy. Try to realize where your triggers hide, why any little discordance with your plan causes you all this troubles (it's probably related to a lack of self confidence or perfectionism issues), how did it originate and how does it feel in your body (so you can focus more on that part when letting go of the energy). Things are fine, try to put them in the right perspective and give them the right importance in your life.

extra message: stay balanced, right now things may seem a bit too much so find your self-center again

song: take you to hell | ava max

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 3 (you may be called by pile 1 as well)

It's time to stop for a moment. Things are falling into place, but you need to give them time to. "You're impatient, darling". Take time to enjoy, to ponder, to clear your mind, and even to take a nap here and there... Gain strenght in this moment. You can't see it but things are changing (and generally they change the most when we can't see them doing it), so let this change flow within you, don't block it by overstressing or overthinking. You are allowed to change as well, to take time to adapt to the new you (you seem very changed!). Don't rush things, don't rush for an answer or a sign.. sometimes it's a matter of simply staying there and wait or meditate over it. Follow your guts, whatever they're telling you. Follow your guts and keep doing you. Keep healing (maybe trust issues or anxiety in general). Results will come. At this moment, the fire within you wants you to take a time out from it. To let it burn still inside, but with a gentle flame, not an excessive one. A flame that burns forever without consuming much energy or anything. A flame that is patient and doesn't need to burn things down to reach to a goal. A gentle flame that burns little by little and grows little by little too, waiting for the right time to explode (if necessary). A smart and observing flame. Keep it quiet. Do not lose sight of it in the dark and don't be scared of losing it (if you dim it) or whatever you want.

extra messages (you got 2): stop and breathe, you don't have to do all at once, take some time off, enjoy + you can change who you were, don't let the past stop you, learn from it

song: black swan | bts

[aechii]

₍⁠₍ iT'S A WRAP ₎⁠₎

PAiRiNG ?! ex!kylian x black!femreader

GENRE ?! angst

SYNOPSiS ?! he didn't believe you when you told him that if he fucks up one more time, it's over. now here he is, grovelling for redemption that he's never going to get.

CW ?! swearing, kylian is relentless and desperate

A/N ?! first football work on this acc after i abandoned it for like nearly a year lol. anyways this is inspired by my current obsession 'it's a wrap' by mariah carey. i love this song too much, LISTEN TO IT 👹

anyways enjoy !! and requests are open hehe

~°~

"told you one more time, if you f'd up it's over."

~°~

"why are you here, kylian?"

your voice was unwavering, attention elsewhere as you focused on pouring a glass of champagne. you thought of pouring him one too, but his presence was already irritating you, and you were counting down until you shoved him back unto the cold streets of paris.

city of love your ass.

he ignored your question, walking towards you before leaning against the counter, mere inches away.

"pour me one."

"no."

he scoffed, you know it's playful, but you weren't tolerating his bullshit to play games. to act as if everything could've been shoved into the forgotten pit of your memory and forgiveness could be served

"kylian," then a sigh, exhausted and prolonged. you sat the bottle down on the island and it's silent.

he seemed to seek for words to say, but truth be told, had no idea why he was standing in your apartment, as if he didn't have training early the next morning. the thought triggered a yawn from him and it's then you finally look at him.

it may have been months, stretched upon its days because you truly felt every single hour that passed without his presence, yet you couldn't deny how his straining muscles or boyish grin had your mind doing laps.

"it's late, kylian. go home."

"i'm not leaving until i get you back," his tone was assertive and, laughably, certain, and you couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped your throat.

"get me back? please."

you slipped the slim champagne glass between your fingers, walking away towards the open living room. lit with candles that kylian had bought you, but their scent (and the memories that came with them, but you would never admit that to yourself) still kept you hooked. didn't have it in you to throw them away.

even if you did, it's not like you would.

"i see you haven't gotten rid of everything." he had noticed. it wasn't his business to care anymore, though.

you ignore him, and he groaned, exasperated.

"come on, [y/n], don't be like this," he urged, following you like a lost child. he truly did feel like so.

"be like what, kylian?" you huffed. it was 10pm at night for heaven's sake and he wouldn't let his persistence rest.

"we've been over this like- what? 2, 3 times? yet you don't know when to stop."

you sat down. he did the same. your leg crossed over the other, rubbing your forehead.

he tried to take your hands in his, but you slap them away.

"come on [y/n], you're being stubborn," his voice was desperate, "you know we could make it work if we tried. made compromises," he suggested, body turned to you.

you kept your gaze elsewhere, scared that one more look at him clad in that tight black shirt would unravel every wall and support you built for yourself to keep you sane.

"stubborn? don't make me laugh, kylian."

"i'm being one hundred percent serious, right now. i want you back- no, i need you back. i've said sorry so many times, and i will keep on saying it until your forgive me, [y/n]."

his words made you laugh. it's an instigating, mocking dig at him which you felt no remorse for, "keep on saying those sorry's, kylian. i'm not accepting them."

your words triggered a frustrated groan from the man, a hand rubbing down his face.

his exhaustion was getting to him. good, you thought, he can see his way out.

"i've been telling you, [y/n], everything i said and did was a mistake. everyday, i hate myself more for hurting you like that and i'm truly sorry for that-"

"sorry isn't fucking cutting it, kylian," your voice was harsh, seething, "i still wonder what was wrong with me, because you," you stab a finger in his chest, "mighty, loving kylian mbappé, said words that i never thought would even come to your mind."

he's silent, and you surged on, "then the night partying. God fucking knows what was going through you at that point," kylian never went out at night unless it was professional, but seeing him absolutely feral on his friends' stories in something that was so obviously a random club plunged you into a state of delirium.

"it happened once, i let it go. i blamed it on your stress and the pressure. i thought that you probably weren't in your right mind and accepted it, though it all hurt like utter shit."

your hands were shaking at this point, and kylian had to push down the impulse to take them in his. normally, it would've sedated you immediately, but now, he knew it would rather fuel a fire he was already giving up on.

"i tried my hardest for you, kylian. lost myself, but had to hold it together for you. your head was up your ass when i told you that 'fuck up one more time, and i'm done'. i hope your realise it now, 'cause," you gesture at the both of you, "look at us."

you could feel your muscles crackle with fatigue, your eyes blinking as submerging you into short flashes of darkness. draining the drink down your throat, kylian's eyes bore into your head, and you could feel it against your skin. it's hot, visceral, and it's then you knew you needed him out.

yawning, you said, "just... leave please, kylian."

sinking, weighing dread was how he could describe his defeat. you had completely gotten over him, cut him off and was ready to move on. but he knew it would take him years, if he ever did, to get over you.

you flowed through his veins with undying vehemence, and kylian had no way to get you out.

his aching limbs arose from the sofa, pausing to stare at you as you remained seated, then walked away to the door.

"[y/n]?"

you looked up at him, "hm?"

"i love you. remember that."

then he's gone.

[fancylala4]

I saw some of you anti Ts posts they are funny and I need to Rant. sorry.

I am so FUCKING sick and TIRED of being relatable being cool! Fuck! If I wanna listen to someone they need to sound good! Way better than ME! Why is being average so overhyped! Bring back actual talent! Bring back people who can sing! Really sing. I want to be awestruck. I want to me in mesmerized. For fuckss sake Taylor Swift is only that popular because she is average and these swifties identify with her.

And fucking hell I AM SO TIRED of this bitch! I am so tired that they act like only her achievements count and as if achievements of other artists don't fucking count!

The Weeknd has a song with 4Billion streams on Spotify.

Drake has one song with 3 Billion and one with 2 Billion

Post Malone has one with 3 Billion and two with 2 Billion

Dua Lipa has four with 2 Billion

Justin Bieber has 3 with 2 Billion and 1 with 3 Billion

Coldplay has 3 with 2 Billion

Bruno Mars has 3 songs with 2 Billion

Ed Sheeran has 3 songs with 2 Billion and 1 song with 3 Billion

Taylor fucking Swift just recently as one song with 2 Billion streams! ONE! if she is so big? Why doesn't she have more? I can answer you this. Because her stupid fans only care about first week streams. They care about getting her on the chart. That is what spotify and billboard pushes. These morons will mass play her music all night so it get streams. It's so embarrassing.

If she didn't release shit constantly and her stans weren't some pathetic losers wanting her to chart so she just charts there is no WAY in fucking hell she could compete with todays artists.

Fucking hell and they compare her to Michael Jackson! Taylor Swift does not have the LONGEVITY. SHE DOES NOT. Not Mariah Careys, Britney Spears, Elton John or the Beatles. There's more but here's a few.

Michael Jackson had a top ten hit in 5 DIFFERENT DECADES. ( 6 if you count the Jackson 5) And probably will have another one after the biopic comes out!

If Taylor Swift would do this she would have to be able to have a TOP TEN HIT in 2030 and 2040. There is no way she would be doing this.

Mariah Carey in 4 DECADES SINCE THE 90'S!

Britney Spears the same as Mariah!

Elton John in four from the 70's- 20's missing the 00's and 10's.

The Beatles in the 60's 70's 90's and 20's.

Like i hate it so much how much this woman is pushed! And swifties gon act like as if she is the only artist being this succesful! SHE IS NOT! It's more impressive that Rihanna still gets high streams beside not releasing anything for YEARS! BTCH i wanna see Taylor Swift not releasing anything for 7 Years and see where she's at. Let's find out. But this woman is to coward to ever do that. She is so damn desperate for validation it's embarrassing.

HOW THE FUCK IS SHE NOT EMBARRASSED WINNING ALL THESE AWARDS OVER PEOPLE WHO ARE 10 TIMES MORE TALENTED THAN HER?!

This btch is absolutely not humble because i would be embarrassed. Literally. It's like how can you shit as tour gain so much money when you know you can't dance and are a mid singer.

And these faces of acting shocked when she wins an award! With that open mouth and GOD! Yes we get it you won again "suprisingly."

How the fuck does she have more AOTYs than any other fucking artist ever? How the fuck does this mediocre ass woman have more than Janet, Michael Jackson, Amy Winehouse, Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey, Stevie Wonder.

And don't let me start on her victim card that she has used has her brand since fucking Kanye West had to go up on stage and embarrass her. He literally started this whole shit. You can never criticise her for anything. Because if you do you are a misogynist who just hates succesful women. She's always the fuckin victim and swifties romanticize it so much! They want her to be this struggling underdog who rose to fame cause that is what fits their damn wattpad story!

Taylor Swift wants to be the Man. She wouldn't be as succeaful if she was a man. Point blank period. Her shield to protect her self from any criticism wouldn't work. The only thing she has to be oppressed about is being a woman thats why her and swifties milk it so fuccking hard!!!

Thanks, and it’s ok. This whole blog is just a bunch of rants anyways.

But everything you said was true. I didn’t know she of all people have more aoty awards than those you mentioned. This just proves that the Grammys are a joke.

[hall0ween-twn]

LITTLE MISS STRANGE lyrics prompts

choose between corey, eddie or steve for a prompt with angst, fluff or smut. one lyric at a time please.

a/n: i'm not good at angst or fluff but i really wanted to use this as a practice. also, i just love this au and the story i've gotten to create with clemkruckinnie so much!! these songs are from my playlists and thought that fit the au a lot.

1 “your face on my ceiling, i fantasize.” 🎵 prisoner, miley cyrus feat. dua lipa

2 “i need somebody with a human touch.” 🎵 stop, spice girls

3 “but i made up my mind, i'm keeping my baby.” 🎵 papa don’t preach, madonna

4 “i'm the reason why you can't get to sleep.” 🎵 tangled up in me, skye sweetnam

5 “why do you only promise underneath the stars?” 🎵 in the dark, ava max

6 “i wish i’d never seen your face.” 🎵 change, pale waves

7 “if you really did care about me, it wouldn’t take another man to make you understand that you want me.” 🎵 same ol’ same ol’, pyt 

8 “the only thing i’m guilty of is giving you too much love.” 🎵 this is me, dream

9 “it's as if you know me better than i ever knew myself.” 🎵 pieces of me, ashlee simpson

10 “is there someone else? is there a place for me?” 🎵 summer night town (english version), coconuts musume

11 “but then i understand, the friend i’m dreaming of is far away.” 🎵 show me how, men i trust

12 “darling, if you only knew, all the things that flow through my mind.” 🎵 fantasy, mariah carey

13 “i'm more than willing to rot in hell with you.” 🎵 eternally yours, motionless in white

14 “does your mother know that you’re out?” 🎵 does your mother know, abba

15 “they’re bringing up my history but you weren’t even listening.” 🎵 lavender haze, taylor swift

16 “i fell in love with that person i see everyday.” 🎵 romantic ukare mode, miki fujimoto

17 “you take my hand, and you say you've changed.” 🎵 too little too late, jojo

18 “it’s useless crying over how i was too late to be honest with you.” 🎵 bitansan, juice=juice

19 “you're not the one i'm supposed to love.” 🎵 tell my mama, christina grimmie

20 “we were right 'til we weren't.” 🎵 flowers, miley cyrus

21 “i thought it was a one-sided love, but was i wrong?” 🎵 crazy about you, minimoni

22 “no one else has made me fall as hard as what i have for you.” 🎵 no one else, reachback

23 “baby don't be gentle, i can handle anything.” 🎵 right where you want me, jesse mccartney

24 “and i only need a little time to satisfy this craving that i'm feeling inside.” 🎵 scary, britney spears

25 “i want to treasure my smile for the person i love.” 🎵 i wish, morning musume

26 “i hate the way you still know everything about me.” 🎵 unforgettable, the best week ever

27 “i can't contain my joy 'cause i finally found the boy i've been missing.” 🎵 i can hear the bells, hairspray

28 “guess mine is not the first heart broken.” 🎵 hopelessly devoted to you, grease

29 “shut your mouth and lose them tighty-whities!” 🎵 dead girl walking, heathers

30 “possible she wants you too.” 🎵 kiss the girl, the little mermaid

[bisamwilson]

Friendly Sam Wilson Anon, 

I know it's been a while, but I am back !!!!

It's the holiday season and I am feeling festive !!! This is my favorite time of year and the music, and the togetherness are my favorite parts. So, we are here to create a holiday playlist for our beloved Sam Wilson and his wonderful ships. It does not matter what Sam ship you ship, let's have fun and make sure you tag Sam Wilson and the ship that you ship 🙂. Be creative and let's vibe out to some holiday music !!!

I hope these playlists inspire new fics, artwork, videos, edits and so much more. Lets tag it "Sam Wilson Holiday Playlist" and let's use the same hashtag for his ships !!!!!

Happy Holidays ❤️

hello, friendly sam wilson anon! i've missed you, i hope you've been well <3

oh, and merry christmas eve!

sorry this took so long for me to answer--holidays have been much busier than expected!

this is less of a playlist per se than songs that i think sam would enjoy/listen to, or that remind me of him and/or sambucky (+ some explanations why)

this is in no particular order

All I Want For Christmas Is You - Mariah Carey

gotta start with the classics. sam was a teenager in the 90s. he probably would've been all over it when it was released, and now that he's in his 40s he loves it just as much and is extra obnoxious about it bc goddamn it it's christmastime and he can be obnoxious about it. he sings it to bucky first thing on november 1st every year, purposefully missing every high note as atrociously as he can, and bucky, while outwardly grumpy, doesn't think he's ever heard anything so beautiful in his life as sam's off-key scream-singing, laughter laced through every lyric

The Mistletoe Jam (Everybody Kiss Somebody) - Luther Vandross

look, i think sam would be ALL over all of luther vandross's christmas album, but this one is my particular favorite, and i think it'd be sam's too. it's fun, it's sexy, luther's voice is spectacular as always, and i can ABSOLUTELY see sam and bucky getting a little down and dirty to luther crooning "you still got the flavor / and i'm hungry for your love / so i'm gon play this one jam / that'll make you want to kiss somebody" ESPECIALLY when they're a little bit older and just having fun/comfortable with each other

Let It Snow - Boyz II Men, Brian McKnight

once again, sam was a teenaged boy in the 90s. this is absolutely one of his favorites, for the same reasons he likes mistletoe jam. smooth, sexy, romantic, and who doesn't love a bit of boyz ii men tbh

I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm - Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong

i think this might’ve been one of the songs that sam’s mama and daddy had on vinyl when he was a kid, one they’d swing around the house to after they’d all trimmed the tree and put out the fancy christmas tableware. sam and sarah would both laugh and smile along as they danced through the living room, before they’d get pulled in themselves.

years later, when he and bucky move into their first place together and after they’ve decorated for the holidays, sam pulls out this record and sees if bucky remembers how to swing

Go Tell It On the Mountain - Mahalia Jackson

a VERY different type of christmas song than the ones thus far, but one i think sam loves anyway. if we're mixing in a bit of his comics background, his father was a pastor, and he would've grown up in church. he's probably got a lot of fond memories singing this one around christmas time, maybe even was in the church choir himself, and i know some of my own favorite christmas songs were the ones i grew up singing in church. it probably reminds him of his childhood, so he always has to make sure he hears it at least once every christmas season, whether it's on spotify or at the christmastime service he still goes to for his late mama's sake, even if it's not necessarily an "on repeat" kind of christmas song

I’ll Be Home For Christmas (If Only In My Dreams) - Frank Sinatra

i don’t know if this is necessarily one sam listens to every year, but i do think he’d probably relate to it during certain times of his life. it was written in wwii from the perspective of a soldier overseas, and it probably would’ve hit home for sam both during his tours and during the two years he spent on the run, missing his family but unable to go home. probably would’ve been one steve was singing along to, as well, as he would’ve heard bing crosby’s original version back in 1943, when he was overseas himself. it made for a melancholy christmas, sure, but i think this song probably would’ve been a comfort in some way as well

this is less a playlist and more a christmas song led sam headcanon session lmao, but hopefully it works! thanks for the ask, friendly sam wilson anon, and happy holidays <3

[angelssung]

how to (successfully) apologise to your significant other.

summary: your boyfriend wants to apologise for constantly ditching you in the middle of your dates.

warning: swearing? that’s basically it lol

genre: fluff, slight angst, 90’s au, whipped jeno & a side of petty reader LOOOOL

pairings: jeno x gender neutral!reader

a/n: planned out a jaemin series after watching a friend of mine’s youtube channel hehe >:3 stay tuned for that!

The sounds of tiny rocks lightly hitting your window was the last thing you were expecting to hear on a Friday at 11:27pm. 

To avoid the rest of your family waking up from the noise, you decided to go see who wanted to bother you at this time.

When you opened your window, the sounds of tiny whispers coming from an unknown place could be heard. Was there someone hiding?

Looking out your window, you locked eyes with the boy you had been dating for almost 2 years. There was a lump of something unidentifiable, maybe a bag filled with things? It was a bit difficult to identify what it was, but you supposed that could wait for a later conversation.

“Go away.” You hissed, about to step back and shut the blinds as a means of avoiding him, but Jeno continued to stand where he was, holding a boombox with ease.

“No! Just hold on a second and hear me out, please.” You could hear the slight crack in his voice as he begged you to give him a chance to listen.

Deliberately choosing not to verbally respond, you stayed stationary in your current position - watching him from your window, giving him the hint that you were silently telling him to continue. 

You might have not been an open book, but he still read your actions very well and could often tell what you were thinking. Perks of being your boyfriend, and all of that.

Jeno coughed multiple times, before hitting the play button on his boombox.

“Caaaaaliforniaa loooove-“ Your boyfriend fumbled to skip the song to the next song. Fantasy by Mariah Carey started playing. You recognised these songs as some that you enjoyed… did he make a mixtape? Specifically for you?

“Agh, shit, give me a minute please (Y/N).”

You deadpanned, “I don’t know why I still like you.”

“I’m glad we kinda share the same sentiment, hun. But at least I know why I like you!” Finally, he played the appropriate song that he had in mind for this situation. Let’s Stay Together by Al Green started quietly playing from the speakers.

“...Have you forgiven me yet?”

“No.” “I have your favourite snacks in this bag!”

“But I want to hear a specific word come out from your mouth.”

“I’ll say what you want, cause I actually mean it. Look, I came here to apologise. I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend as of recently-“

“Yeah asshole, spending time with your friends is normal, but constantly ditching me and even ditching me in the middle of a date to hang out with your friends? You’re the best boyfriend in the world.” Sarcasm dripped from your lips, making Jeno wince.

He then let out a sigh, “There’s no excuse for my behaviour, and I will admit that I was a total jerkface or however those shitty rom-coms we watch say these things. We however, are not in a shitty rom-com movie, and I want to make it up to you. Really.”

You raised a brow at his words, “And you couldn’t have picked a better time of day? Usually if someone wants to hang out, they hang out in the daytime so that they can go get some good sleep at night.”

“Just please come down here,” he whined, “If you don’t wanna go out with me now, that’s fine. It’s a hot-as-fuck summer night. At least take the things I got you, and give me an answer? Even if it’s just ‘give me time to think’?”

Pointing a finger at him playfully, you gave him a small smile, “You owe me several dates for the next month to make up for all twelve dates you pissed me off. Uninterrupted.”

“I just spent money on the stuff I go-” The uninterested look on your face made Jeno immediately retract his words, “Deal. Jisung owes me money and I’ll pick up more shifts at the diner, no big deal.”

Lifting a hand, the two of you stood in silence. After a bit of contemplation from your end, Jeno watched your figure run out of your room and out the back of your house quietly.

Obviously you weren’t gonna jump out of your window. You weren’t gonna break your limbs to see your boyfriend, you wouldn’t want to do that right after he apologised for being a complete ass.

Closing the door, the next thing you knew, a dog plushie, a bouquet of your flowers and a bag of your favourite snacks were being gently placed into your arms. 

“I forgive you, but all this trouble for me?” Blinking, you looked up slowly at him.

Jeno simply shrugged, “You’re worth going the extra mile for.”

The sound of a familiar - scratch that, two familiar voices going ‘aww!’ in the bushes could be heard, followed by a ‘shut up! you’re ruining it!’ from a certain Huang.

“You’re forgiven, Nono.” At the mention of his familiar nickname, Jeno’s eyes lit up, making you smile fondly.

The two of you leaned closer to each other, not saying a word, but simply smiling at one another.

“My god, just kiss already, I’m tired of you two acting like Ross and Rachel or whatever!” Your mom yelled, startling everyone else outside. The rocks must’ve woken her up, you deduced.

As the two of you turned to look at one another, a pout formed on Jeno’s face while he shrugged, “Well, now that we’ve got permission from the audience…”

Lifting a hand up, you quickly ran over to your mom, giving her the items to hold before dashing back to your boyfriend and pulling him in by his collar for a long kiss.

Feeling your boyfriend’s hands slowly working their way up your ass, you smacked them away, making him pout.

[songficsbyrissi]

This X-Mas (Spooky X Reader)

“'Cause this Christmas, will be the Greatest time of your life from me I ain't asking for the diamond rings I ain't really got a list of expensive things I just want you to myself while the children sleeps Santa baby, would you make a little time for me?” - Chris Brown feat. Ella Mai

A/N: hey y’all! I know I kinda abandoned you but being in College during a panoramic (Twitter joke) but I finished! I graduated undergrad so it’s lit! Even tho I don’t really care for Christmas or the holidays and I dislike Christmas music, I love this song and since it’s been a while, I might as well give y’all a Christmas gift soooo Merry Christmas! 🎄🎁❤️

************

You were not a fan of the holidays.

It’s not like you never were. You used to be but as you grew up, you grew a disdain for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years', all that.

The most wonderful time of the year, your ass.

From November 1st up until January 2nd, every year, you were annoyed and couldn’t wait for this time of the year to be over. You didn’t like it and if you had to hear “All I Want from Christmas is You” by Mariah Carey one more fucking time, someone was gonna get kicked where they’re more jolly.

You were relaxing on the couch when you heard a knock on your apartment door. You announced you were coming and opened the door to 3 boys by the names of Cesar, Jamal, and Ruby.

“Hey, boys! What brings-“

“BATHROOM!” Jamal ran past you and straight to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Ruby shook his head and Cesar gave a nervous laugh.

“Would you believe we were just in the neighborhood?”

You pursed your lips. “Nope.”

Ruby sighed out of frustration. “We need help getting Christmas gifts for our.....” He swallowed hard. You closed your eyes.

“You’re still struggling to call Jasmine your girlfriend?”

“SHE’S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” You waved him off and right then, Jamal stepped out the bathroom, relieved.

“Whew, my bladder was full! Where you get that hand soap, Y/N?! Smells lovely!”

You rolled your eyes, irritated. “At Bath and Body Works where y’all should get gifts for your girlfriends.” You narrowed your eyes at Ruby, who shuddered at the G-word. “Now if you excuse me, I was enjoying my alone time.”

Cesar stopped the door from closing. “Wait. Didn’t you say you were leaving today to go spend Christmas with your family?”

Shit. “Uh yeah. Duh. I needed alone time before I left.”

“I don’t see any bags packed.” Ruby indicated, skeptical.

“Or an airline ticket on the desk. Yeah, I noticed!” Jamal added, folding his arms.

You looked at the 3 teenage boys who were waiting for you to confess. You sighed deeply, knowing the jig is up.

“Fine, 3 wise men!” You stated with a tone dripping in sarcasm. “I’m not going home. I never was going home. The reason why is because I don’t care for the holidays. I stopped a long time ago. It’s never been special to me. Also, I don’t have a close-knit family. Actually, we’re dysfunctional as hell. This isn’t the most wonderful time of the year for me. I lied so you guys wouldn’t know the truth, now are you happy?”

Jamal had a dismal expression on his face and pulled you to his chest. “Now I see what the Scrooge looks like as a black woman.”

You pushed him off and Cesar grabbed your wrist before you could hit him.

“Does Spooky know?”

You shook your head. “Nope and it’s gonna stay that way. I mean it, Cesar. Don’t say shit to your brother about this.”

Were you really depending on the little brother of your gang member friend that’s not really a friend but he’s kind of your boo to keep his mouth shut?

“Cesar told me you lied.” That was what Spooky said when you opened the door the next morning which was Christmas. You sucked your teeth loudly, disappointed that your dumbass trusted a 15-year-old who feared his brother.

“I should really kick your brother’s ass.”

He smirked at your comment. “Talk to me, Mami. Why you not fucking with Christmas?”

You left the door, letting him outside and he closed the door behind him. “Because it’s annoying as hell.”

“Nah, that ain’t it.”

You turned to Spooky with your arms folded. “Why do you even care, Oscar? It’s not like your thug ass cares for holidays and shit.”

Spooky remained unfazed by your attitude and you calling him by his government. When you first met him, he would be pissed at that. Even tried scaring you but it didn’t work. Eventually, he got used to it and only allowed you to call him Oscar.

“You’re wrong and I’ll show you. Get dressed.”

You were feeling dangerous. “And what if I don’t?” You responded with a roll of the neck.

Spooky let a dry laugh that scared you yet turned you on at the same time. Damn. You started to bite your lip then pulled it back. He got dangerously close and stared you down.

“Do you really wanna know, Princesa?”

Yes. No. Shit.

You got out of his face and got dressed as you were told. You’ll let him win this round. You got into his car and he drove back to his house where Cesar and his girlfriend Monse were making a mess in the kitchen.

“Hey Y/N!” Monse greeted you. Cesar looked at you nervously.

“Hey Y/N, how’s-“

You held your hand up. “Save it, snitch!”

“He forced it out of me!” The young boy pleaded and you rolled your eyes in response.

“Whatever. What are y’all even doing?” You asked, confused and disgusted by the sight of the kitchen and glancing at Spooky’s face, he was not too pleased either.

“Trying to do a Christmas brunch but somebody doesn’t wanna listen to the instructions.” Monse gestured towards her boyfriend with a roll of her neck, causing Cesar to groan.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the two. “Alright lemme help so I can fix this. You!” You gestured towards Spooky. “You’re helping too!”

“Nahhhh cooking ain’t my thing.”

“Well Christmas ain’t my thing but I’m here. Now throw on an apron, cholo. You’re on bacon duty!”

You couldn’t lie. Making Christmas brunch with the kids was fun as hell. You found yourself smiling and giggling during the cooking and eating. You even caught Spooky staring at you a couple of times. You pecked his lips just because he looked so adorable but if you told him that, he’ll turn into a jackass. When the boys left to get something from God knows where you were left alone with Monse. You didn’t know too much about the girl but figured you could get to know her more.

“So Monse...you’re spending Christmas with your boyfriend.”

“So are you.”

Your eyes narrowed at her response. “1. Spooky is not my boyfriend and 2. I was forced here. Christmas is bullshit.”

“I love Christmas. Even though I don’t remember the last time I actually spent it with my dad.” Monse shrugged bending over and fix her shoelaces. That caught your attention.

“Wait, you’ve had shitty Christmases and you still love Christmas?!”

She shrugged again. “Well yeah. My dad is always away for Christmas and I don’t have my mom so I’ve always dreamt of doing Christmas stuff with the people I love. When I met the boys, not to sound corny but my dreams came true. Another reason why I need to keep the group together.”

You were lost for words. “Wow, I’m sorry, Monse.”

“It’s ok. Hey, I think I hear the boys coming back.”

The boys revealed themselves and Cesar announced that you guys were being invited to have Christmas dinner with Jamal’s family which was great because you didn’t want to cook.

“I’m telling you marmalade is better than jelly. I don’t wanna hear it!” Jamal declared during dinner. A debate broke out between marmalade and jelly which really entertained you. Jamal’s family was funny and so welcoming to you, a stranger. It felt weird to you that they were showing so much love to you, a stranger. Oscar held your hand throughout the whole dinner which did something to your stomach. You don’t wanna say butterflies. Maybe it’s gas.

When the group stopped by Ruby’s house to pick him up for “friendsmas”, his grandma pulled you aside with a serious look on her face.

“Open your heart, mama.”

You gave her a confused look. “What?”

“You closed your heart. Open it. Even if it’s to Papi Chulo over there. “ she gestured towards Oscar who was lighting up a cigarette and looked back at you. “Open it to Christmas. To any holiday. Just....open it.”

You kept that in mind as you went with the others back to the house for the kids to engage in their “friendsmas”.

“I’ve never heard “Friendsmas.” You muttered as Spooky handed you a glass of wine and you watched the kids from the doorway.

Oscar shrugged taking a swig of his Corona. “Well you hate Christmas so I’m not surprised.”

You elbowed him in his side and he began to laugh in response. “I don’t hate Christmas. I just never found joy in the holidays but now I do.” You looked at him and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you. Thank you for making this Christmas special for me.”

Oscar began to grin and pulled something from behind his back. “It’s not over yet, hyna.”

You gazed at the blue velvet rectangular box and opened it slowly to reveal a silver chain that said “Oscar” You looked up at him, speechless.

“Spooky, I....I.....”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just put on my necklace and be mine.” The gangsta in front of you took a deep breath. “I love you, Y/N.”

Your eyes were as big as saucers. “You....you do?”

“Yes, girl he do! It was so obvious!” Jasmine’s voice broke through the moment and everyone glared at her. Her mouth formed an O. “Oooh sorry! I forgot we were supposed to be acting like we weren’t paying attention. My bad!”

You shook your head and felt a surge of love and confidence. You loved this man. You have for a long time but never admitted it because...your heart was closed. Damn. Ruby’s crazy grandma ain’t so crazy after all.

“I love you too, Oscar.” You pulled him in for a long passionate kiss and the crew clapped in excitement.

“Girl put your back in it! You’re under the mistletoe!” Jasmine yelled again.

Ruby started. “Jasmine-“

“Shut up and kiss me!” She grabbed him by his collar, planting a kiss on his lips.

When you finally pulled away from your kiss with Spooky, you smiled up at him and his expression was matching yours. You spoke up through your grin:

“I’ll be damned. It is the most wonderful time of the year.”

A/N: Cheesy as fuckkkkk I know but Christmas is all about the cheese if we’re gonna be honest. I hope you enjoyed it! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, y’all! ❤️🎄🎁

Tags: @karmawaelualani @chaneajoyyy @ctrlszn @witchything @sabrinafey @penguinpower17889 @robingreysantos @namjoonwatcheshentai @pananegra @bloatedandlonly @blackmissfrizzle @chonisberonica @flamingweasley @cynthetic @momobaby227 @this-glitter-pussay​ @beyondprincess​ @joyrivh​

[thefanficmonster]

Never Satisfied [Chapter 3]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: Language

A collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

“I can’t tell if this is a date or a debt collection“

“So where do you want to eat?” Corpse murmurs, sitting in the same car with the same girl he’d been in only a few days ago. His seatbelt clicks and he tilts his head to peer at her from his peripheral vision. She’s buckling up and getting settled in the passenger seat where no one but her has sat in for months. His cheeks turn pink when she turns to look at him, catching him staring which brings a grin to her face. 

“I’m buying you food, bud, you pick.” She answers simply, leaning back in the old seat. 

Corpse sits frozen for a minute or two as he contemplates what the best option would be. 

Nowhere? Could I get away with that though? 

His anxiety is starting to creep up again - the dark demon of his existence. The everpresent rain cloud over the parade of his life. 

What if I make myself look like an idiot. What if I picked something she doesn’t like? Would she think I’m weird? What if whatever I get makes me sick and I end up embarrassing myself! 

Wait, she’s a klepto. What if she robs me?!

“If you can’t think of a place, there’s a little bistro about ten minutes down West Colt avenue that has some pretty bangin’ Greek food.” She suggests calmly, taking his silence as indecisiveness. She’s good at picking up subtle cues, he’s thankful for that. She seems to easily be able to get along with anyone despite her wild personality. She may have a wild spirit, but she’s got the ability to tame it when needed. She’s the only one with that power from what it seems. 

Corpse takes a moment, nods and puts his car into drive to head in the directions she mentioned.

He isn’t completely sure how she’s perceived his indecisiveness though, which is bothering him - was she annoyed by it and wanted to put an end to it or was she just trying to be helpful and prevent him from getting himself worked up? His mind spirals so easily, he hates it. Even in a calm and casual - ok, as casual as it’s gonna get with this girl - scenario, his head is spinning with nothing but the worst outcomes and possibilities. That’s anxiety for ya, it’s a fucking bitch. Either way he appreciates her stepping in like that, saved him quite the bus load of anxious pondering, so the least he can do is offer her a quick smile. 

Don’t make it weird, Corpse!, he scolds himself.

She’s looking out the passenger side window, fingers tapping calmly and rhythmically against her knee, seemingly not bothered by the loud silence in the vehicle. He, however, is not so at peace with it. He’s usually the one to enjoy silences, unless he finds himself in these kinds of situations - in-closed space with another person. He tries to ask himself what would other people do to put an end to the quiet that feels almost like a physical presence. Small talk? That’s one thing he’s never been good at. Music? That’s the key here, however he can’t be sure how to properly use it to his advantage. He can’t just play whatever and expect it to be fine. He appreciates taste in people - he knows he’d be mildly offended if people didn’t respect his taste, that’s why he always pays attention to the favors of others. Especially when it comes to music. 

That’s why, before turning the car radio on, he pauses to ask: “What kind of m-“

“Anything. Really.” She says quickly, cutting him off mid-question before laughing in a certain way Corpse can’t quite place...nervously? Could that be it? That’s a sound he never expected he’d hear from her. Is that feeling even in her specter of emotions? Her? Nervous? - sounds more impossible than him being confident. 

 “Anything?” He’s curious now. She’s managed to intrigue him so easily. He smirks, switching from the radio over to the CD he has placed in the stereo. It���s a compilation of several bands he enjoys listening to, songs that help relax and soothe him. Bonus points for the effect they have on his anxiety - they always manage to suppress it even the slightest bit. Many of his favorites are on there, a lot of genre mixing as well: rap, punk, industrial. But there are also a few mellows on there, even a couple foreign songs that she might not have heard before. 

Much to his relief, a little glow appears in her eyes at the sound of the tunes that fill the car, burning brighter than the reflection of the midday sun that’s already present in them, “I’ve always loved music...haven’t found anything I don’t like.” She tells him, voice traveling softly as she closes her eyes for a moment before opening them and allowing her grin to widen, “So...my choker, huh? Thought it suited ya?”

Corpse laughs a little, low and timid as the car comes to a slow stop at a red light. “I thought it was mine, I swear.” He admits, shrugging slightly. “I go by a C name on the internet so…thought it was a product of my bullshit sentimentality or a shopping spree I can’t recall.” He swallows hard, contemplating whether mentioning he’s online was a bad move or not.

 Luckily, she doesn’t  seem to have acknowledged it, as she promptly speaks up again, “You do look good in a collar, you have that bad dog kind of vibe. If it didn’t have such sentimental value I would’ve let you keep it.” She laughs, a sound so light, almost like a glow you can see more than a voice you can hear. It’s contagious too and he can’t help but chuckle with her, blushing again. 

“You would look good in one too I bet.” He says but cringes right as the words leave his mouth. He’s quick to regret what he has said, his tongue burning with a bitter taste as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel and clenches his jaw. 

Fuck! Stupid! Stupid! Why the fuck would you say something like that?? She’s going to think you’re a fucking creepy pervert who’s imagin-

Corpse’s mental anguish is put to an abrupt pause as something warm covers the fingers of his right hand. He lets his tunnel vision focus on his hand to find hers curled over it. 

“Hey…you still with me?” She asks carefully, thumb touching one of his rings. “You don’t have to worry about offending me. It takes a lot to do that, if you can’t tell. Besides, you seem pretty cool and you’re not a narc so that’s a huge plus.” She squeezes his hand before wiggling her fingers under his palm and pulling it from the steering wheel so their fingers could intertwine. “If you need it, you can always grab my hand any time and squeeze until you don’t feel nervous. Although, you never need to be nervous around me. Consider me your personal human safety blanket. Or a….what to call it?... - A checkpoint! If everything or everyone else makes you anxious, I’m your checkpoint person where that anxiety should evaporate. Sounds good?”

Corpse stares at this literal stranger in his car. A stranger holding his hand and promising to be there for him when his anxiety overwhelms him. Letting him rely on her whenever his chest tightens or his heart speeds up. He feels so much while looking at the sight she is. Gratitude and confusion take over though. “Why would...you-..” He attempts to mutter, but she’s quick to cut him off yet again.

“Because I know what it’s like to be anxious and I wish I had somebody to help me when I was feeling that storm in me.” She replies, shrugging her shoulders with nonchalance and gives his palm another gentle and encouraging squeeze. “Even if this is a one time hang out sesh between strangers, you can count on me until we go our separate ways.” Confidence radiates from her like waves of warmth and safety. 

Her aura’s reaching out to his, offering him reassurance and comfort. And so, he decides to accept.

Corpse finally brings himself to squeeze her hand back. “-...thanks.” He murmurs, lips quirking up in a smile. 

But I don’t want this to be a one time thing…I might actually have a friend. I may have just clicked with someone like I haven’t in so long. 

She releases his hand so he could continue driving, nodding her head as if to tell him she’s still there despite the loss of contact, reassuring him that he could reestablish that contact whenever he’d like or need to. 

He now feels more comfortable in the car, more relaxed than he can even remember. Music plays from the speakers but it’s overpowered by their voices singing along to the songs they recognize. Corpse can’t help but note she sounds nice, singing like that - so carelessly. She’s by no means a Utada Hikaru, or a Mariah Carey but she knows how to hold a tune and he can appreciate that. He’s no BONES either after all.

He doesn’t want this drive to end, he doesn’t want this bubble of comfort and leisure to burst. He rarely gets the luxury of finding himself in a state like this one so peaceful yet so chaotic. So familiar despite him not having experienced it before. It all feels so natural despite how out of place it is. It’s so many things contradicting each other and it’s beautiful to him. It’s comfort, it’s happiness. It’s the absence of anxiety - a feeling he wants to enjoy for as long as possible. He has Cora to thank for this, for managing in less than a full day of knowing him what people who’ve known him for years haven’t been able to do. He’s aware that this is temporary, this car ride can’t last forever and neither can this outing. But he knows that when they step out of this car, when they leave this bubble, her hand will still be within his reach. And when this hang-out sesh is over, he’ll be able to make another one happen. There is always this big step of overcoming his anxiety he has to face whenever he wants to invite people within his proximity and in his life, but with her, that step disappears. It’s erased from existence by the simple touch of her fingers. The oddly powerful grip of her small, gentle hand. 

Corpse is not one to believe in fate, but there are some things that are inevitable. Things that are special and always happen with a reason and a message. He’s not blind either - he knows what he’s got here, with her, falls in that category of special.

@fockingwhore  @vixenl  @annshit  @wineandionysus

[joshuas]

the playlist

♫ pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

♫ genre: college/university student!au, slice-of-life, crack (at the end, really), fluff

♫ word count: 1.4k

♫ warnings: Nil of note!

♫ prompt: #You made me a Christmas playlist but it's just Mariah Carey's "All I want for Christmas is you" and I can't tell if you're hitting on me or if it's a joke. - if anyone is aware of the owner (?) of the prompt, please let me know so that I can credit appropriately :)

♫ a/n: The first addition to my Christmas drabbles! Enjoy this lowkey chaotic fic!

♫ skz christmas drabbles: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

[16:23] 10th Dec.

Entering the cafe your friend Chan was working at, you sighed contentedly, inhaling the smoky aroma of freshly ground coffee. “I need caffeine like right now.” You slumped against the counter dramatically. “Exams were that bad, huh?” He smiled sympathetically, starting up the espresso machine. “Not bad. Tiring, but not bad. I’m honestly just erasing any memory of them as we speak.” You sighed, propping your chin on your hands. “Well, regardless, I did make you something as a gift for completing those... things that you’re currently forgetting.” “You did? I mean you didn’t have to.” Your eyes lit up though, negating any attempt at masking your excitement and curiosity. “Okay, well I should clarify. It’s nothing big. My professor set us a task to make a playlist for someone, basically for the purpose of getting us to consider the audience that we’re making music for... so I chose you. Just think of it as something to relax to after a long week of exams.” He explained, tone slightly laced with trepidation that you payed no heed to. “Well, I’m flattered that my best friend considered me to be their... muse for this assignment? In fact, I’m super curious as to what songs you put on it. Send it to me tonight and I’ll listen to it!” You grinned, grabbing your coffee and waving as you exited the shop. “Yeah, okay...”

“Don’t spill the flour everywhere!” Your friend, Felix, stressed, pushing the bowl of cookie batter closer to you.

“This whole process would be a lot more fun if we could listen to music, as well.” You rolled your eyes at his hotheadedness. “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to make gingerbread for Chan because of the whole playlist thing, which is highly romantic by the way. Also, we all know what happens when you get distracted while cooking.” He smirked, mixing through the batter. “I’m pretty sure friends can make playlists for their friends. Besides, I have you to help this precarious venture not go sideways.” You flashed him a smile, opening up the playlist and pressing shuffle play, before quickly redirecting your attention to to the cookie trays. All I Want for Christmas Is You blasted out the speakers, you laughed awkwardly as Felix raised his eyebrows pointedly at you. Odd song choice, but okay.

Half an hour later, with Mariah Carey playing on loop for almost 10 times, Felix rubbed his temples,

“Either Chan has an extremely unique sense of humour, or it’s an extreme declaration of his undying love for you.” Parcelling the gingerbread away and neatly tying a bow on top, you looked at him, “It’s weird, though. All the songs on the playlist are the same. I don’t think Chan would do that... it’s probably some network glitch or something like that.” You resolved, thoughts whirling as you cleared the kitchen. You had known Chan since childhood. Growing up, the two of you were as thick as thieves, causing enough grief to last both your parents a lifetime. It wasn’t until late high school that you’d started viewing him differently. Every little act of kindness that he did out of friendship made your heart both burst with happiness and twinge at the fact that he didn’t share the same sentiment as you. You hadn’t ever really considered the possibility of him liking you back. You never wanted to venture into that territory, afraid that you’d get your hopes up and your friendship, something you valued more than anything, would be ruined at the cost of your curiosity and feelings. You considered it as too selfish to even entertain the thought. However, some nights you couldn’t help but daydream on how it would feel to have his soft lips on yours, and to be wrapped in his warm embrace every night. Yet, whenever reality dawned on you, you shut down that part of your brain, reinforcing to yourself that the two of you were only friends. “Hey, Y/N? Sorry to interrupt whatever internal monologue you’re having but I’m going to leave now. Regarding the Chan situation, I’m not telling you to read into it too much, but considering Chan, I doubt it was just a joke.” Felix gave you a tight hug, snapping you out of your reverie. Sighing, you shut off the speaker, heading to your bed, your thoughts provoking as you tossed and turned, unable to drift off.

[18:39] 12 Dec. You had actively avoided the cafe and Chan over the last few days, fleeting texts often with one worded answers being the only form of communication between the two of you until you had sort of wrapped your head around the whole playlist situation. You knew it was bad to keep Chan in the dark like that, but you weren’t ready to see him, regardless of what his reasoning was. It wasn’t until Felix had forced you out of the house to give him the gingerbread you had baked that you had to face your fears and him. The door jingled as you stepped into the place, Chan in the same place you last saw him, humming to, wow, he really likes this song, none other than All I Want for Christmas Is You as he wiped down the counter, “Sorry, we’re closed.” He called out, not glancing up as you approached. “You must really love Mariah Carey.” You raised your eyebrows at him as he glanced up at you, startled, “Y/N? You’re alive?” “No. I’m the ghost of christmas past... Of course I am. I came bearing gifts. Particularly Christmas ones since you’re going home tomorrow.” You placed the gift bag in his arms, avoiding his gaze. “Thank you.” He said quietly, putting the bag to the side. “So, about the playlist—“ You both started. He stopped as you continued. “Was it a joke?” You blurted out, silence pursuing as Mariah Carey belted in the background. Santa won't you bring me The one I really need Won't you please bring my baby to me “This is really poor choice of music... anyway. Look, Y/N, you’re my best friend.” Your heart twinged in disappointment as your throat tightened, casting your burning eyes to the ground. He grabbed your hands, “but... it wasn’t a joke. I literally put 100 copies of All I Want for Christmas Is You in a playlist to try and articulate my feelings for you.” “Wait... so you were hitting on me?” You questioned, looking up, incredulous. “I mean. Yeah.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Cool cool cool cool cool.” You stared at each other for a while, eyebrows raised. You surged forward, pressing a quick kiss on his lips, as he gaped at you in shock. “You mean you...” “I don’t know about you, but I don’t go around kissing randoms after they declare their undying love for me, unless I like them too.” He pulled you close to him, his lips moving tenderly moving against yours. Time came to a standstill, the music distantly playing in your mind as you wrapped your arms around his neck, the two of you blissfully enjoying each other’s company. You pulled apart, breathing heavily as a smile spread on both your faces, laughing softly. “You know... your wish did come true.” You remarked. “Wish?” He tilted his head, questioning. “All you want for Christmas is... you know...” You gestured to yourself, as he facepalmed, laughing, “I guess you’re right. All I’ve wanted for Christmas is you.”

+bonus -  high-key crack ((because Felix would never ever do this)) this is lowkey inspired by Chan’s Room: Ep. 69! Watching your silhouettes behind the tinted windows of the cafe lean in to kiss, Felix scrambled out of the car, eyes wide in horror as realisation dawned on him. “No! This can’t be happening! My plan...” He fell to his knees on the sidewalk, his upset tone echoing throughout the almost deserted street. He was in turmoil. He had been the one to orchestrate this whole thing - 100 copies of the same Mariah Carey song on a playlist, even with the concept of a playlist, he was sure you would hate it. However, what he didn’t account for... was that the two of you had feelings for each other. His heart twinged enviously at the possibility of Chan sharing all the pick-up lines customers (cough cough stays) had used on him throughout his day on you instead of Felix. He had to do something about this. This wasn’t the end for platonic Chanlix. He’d get his pick-up lines back.

➳ part two?  |  masterlist!

[tae-cup]

Have a Merry Christmas :) - Yoongi

For: @yoongi-sugaglider​, Eommaaaaaaa 

From: Marria

Pairing: Musician!Yoongi x Author!Reader

Summary: The littlest of gestures have the biggest impact <3

Genre: Neighbors to Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

Warnings: Your heart may burst from the fluff, like a little language here and there. 

Rating: PG

Word Count: 3.8k Words

A/N: I am not Christian, but I have a lot of holiday spirit, okay? Also, Eomma I loved writing this for you. Honestly, it’s so cute and I love you and everything you do. You’re doing great and I hope this is what you were hoping for! Alexa, play All I Want For Christmas is You by Mariah Carey 

Other: Masterlist

       Moving was a long and laborious task. Your arms felt like jelly as you clutched the heavy box of dishes. You kicked open the door of your new apartment as it began to close behind the line of movers going in and out. 

“Need some help?” A low voice grumbled. Assuming it was your father, you just groaned and nodded. 

“God, I didn’t even know I had so many dishes! I’m pretty sure I just use the same ones. I should give some back to you and mom.” You complained. 

“That’s great, but I’m not your dad.” Ah, shit.

       In your defense, the box blocked a majority of your line of sight and you were a bit preoccupied. What you didn’t expect was to see a handsome man staring at you through narrowed eyes. A small smile tugged at his lips. 

       He wordlessly held open the door for you to get into the apartment and you didn’t say anything out of embarrassment. You set down the box and when you turned around to say thank you and apologize, he was already gone. The door next to yours clicked shut. 

        Great. It wasn’t the first impression you had wanted out of your next door neighbor. You pulled your hair into a ponytail and swiped at the building sweat. You needed to do something to get on better terms with your neighbor. Or maybe you were overthinking things way too much. You began to unpack the dishes while the movers brought in the couch. 

         After the dishes were put away, you went back out to help the movers. On your way out, you glanced at the heavy oak door that was close beside yours. You bit at your lip and turned back to head downstairs. You had wanted to knock, to apologize or just say something. 

      Something something something. You were always doing something. They called you quite the ‘fixer’ in your house. Being an author was not usually a great career choice, but one thing did stand out about you; when something was wrong, you fixed it. 

        Min Yoongi ended up being quite the enigma, as you were soon to find out. Ever since your first meeting, he had been cordial with you. In all honesty, though, he rarely left his apartment. You did figure out that he was a musician and studying in the music department at the local college. How did you find out? Well, you weren’t a stalker, okay, but you did overhear conversations from time to time. The walls were thin. 

       You had noticed how he rarely had any visitors, even during holidays, and a few times you had wanted to ask if he wished to join you for celebrations like New Years or Christmas, but you never did. You found out why he was alone about a year into living in the building. You didn’t speak to him, but there was some attraction to the unknown. 

       It had been Christmas. You were packing and preparing to leave your monotonous life to spend time with your family. It was your favorite time of the year. Warm fairy lights were hung all around your apartment and the smell of cinnamon candles was in the air. 

       You shoved the last of your clothing into the bag. You were decked out with ugly Christmas sweaters, beanies, and boots. Just as you were about to leave, you heard the shouting of muffled voices from next door.

       Neither of those were Yoongi. You knew because, well, he just never seemed like the type to yell in an argument. In all your interactions with him, leaving in the morning, riding the elevator, you knew him to be a quiet and introverted man. 

      The shouting grew louder and you wondered if you should go knock on the door and check in. You exited your apartment and walked the few steps to stand in front of his door. Hesitation filled your mind and you bit at your lip. After a few more moments, you decided against it. You turned and started walking down the hall to the elevator. 

      Suddenly, the door to his apartment opened and closed with a loud slam. You felt yourself jump at the loud noise and you twisted your head to look at the door. Yoongi, with his faded blonde hair, you had noticed he was into dyeing his hair a different color every month, was exiting his room. He took brisk steps, mumbling something about getting some fresh air. 

      You glanced at him as he strode into the elevator with you. He was running his hands madly through his hair in a constant rhythm. Then he took in a deep breath. The elevator already held winter’s frigid air and you could see the lightest of breaths puffing out from his mouth. 

“My parents.” He said simply. You nodded in understanding, connecting the dots. 

“I’m sorry about that.” You said softly. He finally looked at you. You remained still, watching as the numbers ticked downward. 

       After a few moments of his eyes roaming your face, he turned back to look at the metal doors. 

“It can’t be helped. Most parents wouldn’t want their child throwing away their life on trivial pursuits.”

“Trivial pursuits, hm?” Your heart thumped quietly in your chest. You remembered the look your parents gave you when you told them about your wishes to pursue writing. 

“I want to be in the music industry. You know, like those kpop producers?” 

“I see.” You hummed in acknowledgement. 

        The elevator slowed to a stop and the doors slowly creaked open. You hurried out, shouldering your duffle bag. The lobby was cold, the doors opening and letting a cold breeze in every time a resident entered or exited. Yoongi stepped out with you. This was the longest conversation you’d had with him for a year, it was oddly calming. 

       Yoongi was a listener and he took his time with his words. You reflected this in a way, but your support system was stronger. When you looked at his tired face, the way his lips pulled into a natural frown, you felt concerned. How was he holding up? 

“I think you should do what you want, Yoongi.” You said, walking to the entrance for the underground parking. He watched you go. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I am.” He said simply and turned on his heel, leaving for the regular entrance. 

       A few years passed like seconds. Your life was just flashing by your eyes. Schoolwork, your job, everything was the same. Each year you led a comfortable lifestyle, you even managed to get your book into the editing phase. More and more, your life and fascination with your neighbor had intertwined. 

      The words you wrote in your book became based on the intrigue of your mysterious neighbor. Who was he really? What did he do besides schoolwork? To you, it seemed he just sat inside and played piano until the early morning hours, just like he was doing now. 

       Christmas Eve was around once again and you were packing, once more, to go see your family. You wanted to leave extra early in order to spend more time with your grandma, whose health had been shaky lately.

      The sweet melody of silent night echoed through the quiet building. You glanced to your far left wall, trying to imagine him sitting at his piano, playing such a melancholic song such a happy day. 

      That’s when it really began; the notes. It started with a simple message scrawled messily on a sticky note. 

Have a Merry Christmas, yoongi. :) - Y/N

       You kept at it. Notes upon notes, everyday, 365 days. It gave you something to do and it was always a nice routine. You were sure he threw away each note and he never mentioned them when you stood in the elevator together either. It wasn’t anything bad. 

        They always just said simple things like Hope you had a good day today. Or Are you alright? Or, your personal favorite, Have you had anything to eat? The questions always ranged based on how you heard him enter his apartment. You tried your best to plan ahead, so you kept at least two in your pocket in case you forgot sticky notes. 

       You often thought over your feelings for him. He was nice, sweet, and on top of it, extremely handsome. You lazily wrote I like you one day on a sticky note and then crumpled it up, stuffing it into one of your pockets. Someday, someday. You told yourself. 

 “Whatcha got there?” You asked, eyeing the white grocery bag in his hand. 

       He stood next to you, as per usual, on the elevator. The elevator itself was old and slow. 

“Just some dried squid.” He said.

       You were quiet, which prompted him to continue.

 “They’re taking them out of stock this week and I don’t know how long until I can get them again. I don’t have time to go anywhere else. So I guess I’ve just got to stock up.” He explained quickly. You nodded, logging the information away into your brain. 

“Personally, I like Kyoho Jelly.” You said. 

“Ah, that’s good too.” 

       The next week, you went to another grocery store, and even though you weren’t a particularly big fan of dried squid, you bought several packages. For the next few weeks, you delivered your notes with a bag of dried squid. 

       Both you and Yoongi had rather...solitary ways of life. He spent his time holed up playing piano and you spent your time hiding in your room writing. In fact, you mostly had the same schedule as each other. It felt nice to have a companion on your short trips to and from school. Even if you didn’t say much, it was enough. 

         You ran into him on the elevator once more. He gave you a nod of acknowledgement and even managed a smile. You felt your cheeks heat up slightly. Who wouldn’t be flustered to speak to him? 

        Yeah, he had that nerdy, introvert, kind of look to him, but he had this mystery in his eyes, a coldness that could only be found through years of immense strength and resilience. You knew him to be dedicated. Your way of supporting him was by not knocking on his door when it was 1 A.M. and he was practicing the same piece for the hundredth time. 

       Yoongi held a folder of sheet music in his arms and you held your manuscript. The blonde looked at your arms. 

“You’re a writer?” He asked. 

“You could say that.” You shrugged and hit your floor number. You stayed still as he stepped in after you. 

“That’s...really cool.” He said awkwardly. 

        You were a bit surprised. You had expected him to be cool as a cucumber, very put together, but he seemed almost nervous as he stood beside you. He fidgeted quite a bit and averted his eyes away from you. 

“I guess.” You said softly, a warm feeling growing in your stomach. Then you bit your lip to keep from smiling.

 “I wanted to apologize about uh, the way we met.” You chuckled. “I didn’t know you weren’t, achem, my father.” 

          He looked away and you saw his shoulders shake with a silent laugh. Then he turned back to you. You saw a ghost of a smile left on his lips and he slowly let his face fall back into a neutral position. 

“It’s no problem.” He said stoically, then he broke character, “I found it quite...humorous and you’re cute so it’s no big deal.” 

        Then he flushed bright red and stumbled over his next words.

 “I mean, I-nevermind, this is awkward.” He rushed and took a deep breath. He released a sigh and you smiled at him. 

“Thanks.” You said gently. 

        The elevator dinged and you stepped out, waiting for him. Did he know about the notes? Why hadn’t he said anything? You glanced at his flustered face and decided against questioning him. He stepped out and began to walk with you in silence to your door. 

        You finally made your move. 

“Hey, I know I usually leave these on your door, but since you’re right here...I’ll just give it to you, okay?” You reached into your pocket and picked up the first crumpled piece you found. You handed it to him sheepishly and he took it, holding it carefully in his soft hands. 

“Thank you.” 

“It’s no problem.” 

He opened his door. “See you around.”

“See you-” the door shut. “-around.” You finished quietly. 

      You reached into your pocket and pulled out the other piece of paper. How’s your day? It read. Your face paled. Oh god, no. The only other paper in your pocket had been...I like you. 

         Your book had been slipping away from you. The editing process was tedious and time felt like it was getting away from you. Yoongi didn’t know about your book, he didn’t know how you wondered if he was alright, like some weird infatuation. It was normal to be worried about your neighbor, right? 

       On the subject of notes, you had gotten a rather harsh wake up call from your publisher. He had explained, in simple terms, that your book wouldn’t be successful. 

“The writing is okay, I guess, but what happened halfway through? I was sure the main character was going to end up with Brandon, so why does it so suddenly change? I think this will throw off readers looking for a cute romance novel.” He said, as if reading off a script. 

“But it’s realistic. You can’t fall in love and expect to be with the first man you lay eyes on.” You argued. 

“Look, Y/N, this is just supposed to be a ditzy romance novel. Don’t get into your head with metaphors and realism. That’s not what you’re good at and not what we signed up for. Thanks.” 

        And the call had ended just like that. Distressed was an understatement. You set your phone down on the counter and collapsed on the couch that lay next to the wall that connected Yoongi and your apartment.

          He was playing Nuvole Bianche, a rather sad song, and it pushed you to the edge. Everything was going wrong. Yoongi hadn’t even looked at you since you got the notes mixed up and you were sure he was purposefully avoiding you. 

        The tears began to stream down your face, painting your cheeks. The piano rose in intensity and a sob tore out. Years of work, and for what? 

      The disappointed looks on your parents’ faces, the raised eyebrows of your professors, all the words they had said to you in subtle jabs at your character, your career choice...were they true? Were they right? You curled in on yourself, sobbing loudly. You didn’t even notice the piano music halt. 

      The only sound were your sobs, the hopelessness that settled in your bones. Maybe you should just stop. Then, there was a melody. A soft tune that had waited for a quiet moment. You’ve got a friend in me. 

     The joyful piano contrasted that of your own despair. You lifted your head. Had he heard? Did he know? You swiped at your eyes as the tune grew louder. 

      You got troubles, and I got 'em too. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you. We stick together and we see it through. 'Cause you've got a friend in me. You've got a friend in me. The melody swept you up and carried you away. 

       You could breathe again. 

       The TV was turned up loud, blaring the message that had you sitting on the couch this Christmas instead of with your parents. 

“A large avalanche occurred late last night, blocking a major roadway from Seoul to Busan. Officials say no one was injured in this disaster, however this will prevent hundreds of people from returning home this Christmas.” The reporter said.

       You watched the screen, mind blank and eyes open. The screen itself was blurred to your vision and you were currently pushing away the harsh reality that threw a wrench in the happiest day of the year for you. You had no one. Still, in your misery, you blinked and stood. You had to do the one thing you knew how to do; write. 

      So you wrote. You wrote well into the afternoon. You wrote until your fingers cramped and your stomach growled with hunger. You wrote until you could hear Yoongi slamming his apartment door at the end of the day. 

     Your misery was on display on this blank white page. Wasn’t this supposed to be a good day? You bit your lip and looked to the far wall. Yoongi was silent. No piano music was heard. 

       In a split second decision, before your inspiration vanished and your mind became numb from writing all day, you jotted a few words down onto a sticky note. You surveyed the yellow paper. It was such a small square, but the words on it meant something. It was weird how words can mean so much. 

       You left your apartment, stretching out your back which had been hunched over your computer. You swallowed thickly and stuck the note down on the ground. You knocked and waited. No response. 

      You sighed and left, opening your door and slamming it shut behind you. You felt angry tears pricking at your eyes. It was stupid, trying to understand your handsome neighbor, trying to connect to such an obviously closed off person. 

       The sound of his door opening softly and closing made you stop. You checked the time. You had three hours to midnight, three hours to Christmas. 

       Yoongi hesitated, staring down at the little note. Have a Merry Christmas :) - Y/N

       He bent down and picked it up, the note reminding him of the first note last year. Of course he noticed the notes everyday, of course he felt grateful, happy that someone cared. It had been a long time since that happened. He flipped over the note. Nothing on the backside, yet the simple words seemed to taunt him. 

        The notes had made him feel...funny inside. Yoongi wasn’t all too great at figuring out what was going on in his head, he just plowed through life as fast as possible. He spent his time lost in work, piano, or sleeping.

       Your notes felt like a time when he could calm down and stop for a bit. How are you? I hope your day was good. Little things that made the biggest of impacts on his world. 

       He needed to do something. The blonde, now mint haired, couldn’t understand how he felt about you. All he knew was that he very desperately wanted to make you happy. He had gone radio silent for a while, unsure of what to do when he discovered your note; I like you. What was he supposed to do with that information? 

Maybe you like her back? His conscience said. 

        He thought of the crumpled notes in his desk, the replies never sent. He knew what he needed to do next. 

        30 minutes to midnight. You were sprawled on your bed like you were making a snow angel. A soft rapping on your door made you sit up. You glanced at the time and then you stood. You made your way to your closet in an attempt to throw on something other than your pajamas.

        In the end, you just chose leggings and a random christmas sweater in your half packed bag. Looking at the open bag made you frown and your mood dampened. The knocking sounded again. 

“Coming!” You shouted, pulling on socks and walking to your door. 

        Upon opening the heavy wood, you saw no one. Then, on the ground, was a sticky note.

  Have a merry Christmas :) - Yoongi. 

        You picked up the note, heart thumping wildly. You turned to look at his door. It creaked open slightly and All I Want For Christmas is You began its lilting melody. 

       You folded the paper up and stepped towards his door. You gripped the note tightly, hope blooming in your chest. He sees you. The little voice in your head pushed you to continue you into the apartment. 

“Yoongi?” You called. The piano continued playing. Your heart thudded in your ears and you glanced down the short hall. 

        A board was propped up at the end, illuminated by hazy yellow Christmas lights. You stepped quietly and quickly towards it. You noted the similar layouts of your apartments.

       It was like all the pieces of an apartment (a hallway, a room, a bathroom, etc) but in a different order with the same dimensions. As you walked closer to the board, you could finally make out what was on it. Your breath caught in your throat. 

       Notes. Little sticky notes were pressed all over the board. You leaned closer and the familiar scrawl of your handwriting came into focus. All of your notes. Every. Single. Note. You had ever sent him, was on this board. 

        You felt tears spring to your eyes. He had kept them. You managed to hold back the flood as you read over each note with fascination, because beside every note, was another note in Yoongi’s handwriting. 

How are you? I’m okay, how are you?

Did you eat today? Yes, there’s no need to worry. 

        They were in various conditions. Notes, you realized, that he had intended to respond to you with. Each one was crumpled slightly, as if he’d thrown them out and then decided against it. 

        A bag of dried squid sat next to a bag of Kyoho Jelly. You smiled a little, remembering your gesture of goodwill. In the very middle, however, you caught the note you were sure he had thrown away. 

I like you. I like you too. 

       Time froze. The tears were down your cheeks in an instant, the overwhelming emotions flooding you. The note’s words played over in your brain, like his soft breath in your ear.

       I like you. I like you too. The music came to a stop and you were pulled from your thoughts, twisting around to face the mint haired man. His eyes were soft, a gummy smile on his face. 

“You didn’t think I would let you spend Christmas alone after all of this, hm?” He teased. 

       You let out a little chuckle and walked towards him. He stood from his piano and met you in the middle of the room. He took your hands in his and squeezed softly. 

“Thank you, Yoongi.”

“No, I should thank you.” He glanced at the board of notes. “You didn’t need to do all of this.” 

“It was just a silly infatuation.”

“There’s nothing silly about it, Y/N.” He pulled you closer ever so slightly. Then he looked up pointedly and you followed his line of sight. Mistletoe. 

      Without a second thought, without a doubt, which was a surprise since you had many, you tilted your head and met his lips with yours.

       He pressed into you, wrapping an arm around your waist and moving his lips in time to yours. Yoongi had an aloof and cold demeanor oftentimes, but he found he was only ever warm when he was with you. 

       You pulled away, breathing a little harder than before. His cheeks were tinged pink and yours were as well. You were flustered, captivated by his chocolate eyes. The clock on the wall chimed midnight. 

“Merry Christmas, Yoongi.” You breathed. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” Then he leaned in once more and gave you a soft kiss on the lips. 

[seasonsofeverlark]

Spreading Christmas Cheer

Author: @mega-aulover​

Prompt: Everlark the movie Elf [submitted by @alliswell21​]

Rating: G

Author’s Note: This is a story based off of the movie Elf as requested by @alliswell21​ It’s from “Jovie” i.e. Katniss POV, what she would have seen and fell in love with one Peeta ‘Buddy’ Mellark. 

Special thanks to @norbertsmom​ for her betaing skill and for the name of the story. Parts 3 and 4 will post separately.

_____________

Pt 1

I watch Peeta gently kiss the top of our first born’s head. Holly’s dark hair is braided into two plaits; her blue eyes closing softly. 

“And Papa Elf said, grandpa was on the naughty list…” his voice is soft.

Suddenly Holly’s eyes widen as she remembers something. Her blue eyes are laser focused on Peeta. “Papá, es verdad que mamá estaba en la  lista de los niños malos?”   

“Y quien te dijo esto?” I ask from the door. We never discuss my role in Peeta’s adventure, or the fact that I was on the naughty list. Ever. 

“Santa,” Holly says.

Ese gordo, Santa has loose lips. I think about teaching him about keeping secrets until it’s time to explain to our child about the past. But before I can say anything, Peeta gives me a look. He always knows when I’m having evil thoughts. I sigh, and redirect my thoughts, because Peeta made me believe in love, joy, and Christmas.    

“Your papa saved more than grandpa that Christmas. He saved me too.”

Holly’s eyes lit up like her father’s before the sleepiness creeps back into their depths.

“Now go to sleep so Santa can come down the chimney.”

“Night, mama, night papa,” Holly whispers right before she drifts off to sleep. 

Together we walk out of our daughters bedroom. Peeta slides an arm around my shoulders. He dips down and nuzzles my cheek. He steers me to the living room. I drag my feet. Peeta is up to something.

“Okay, spill it, Mellark.”

He gives me a wide eyed smile.

The hair at the back of my neck stands up straight. 

He’s got that look, that please tell me a bedtime story stare, and not just any story. 

“No.”

Peeta pauses and gives me a puppy dog look with a full lip pout.

“No.”

“Come on, Sweetums, my li’l sugar plum,” Peeta says in an excited whisper.

“No…no don’t waggle your eyebrows at me, Peeta. Buddy. Mellark.” I pronounce each one of his names.

Peeta’s grins so brightly; his eyes shine brighter than Christmas lights. His hat is slightly crooked as he hops and does that stupid little dance of his that makes me want to tear off his green tights. Yep, I said tights. My husband was raised as an elf, a six foot two, blond, wavy haired, giant with broad shoulders, washboard abs, and is genuinely sweet. Sweeter than eggnog.

He grabs me by the waist. “You know you wanna,” he says in that sexy time voice of his that’s reserved only for me. 

Canasto! 

I should clarify for everyone listening to my tale; you should know canasto isn’t a vulgar or bad word. It means basket. But I like the way it sounds in Spanish. So I say it with real vehemence. It’s like peaches in Spanish sounds like a curse word. Melocotón! Tu eres un Melocotón! Which translates into you’re a peach. 

I digress.

I let out a big sigh. There’s no way I can say no to him and he knows it! Canasto!

“I love it when you tell the story of how we met from your point of view.“ 

"You’re an evil gremlin,” I say with no heat in my voice. It’s my personal nickname for him. As in the gremlins when they ate after midnight. However to be fair, if you see Peeta, he’s not scary at all, he’s more like a big teddy bear.  

Peeta laughs and my heart flip flops. Because he is anything but; he is so congenial.

Peeta puts his hands on my belly, my very big belly. It’s baby number 2; actually it’s baby number two and three. They are counted as one until they’re born. I know what he’s doing, the evil gremlin! He’s trying to distract me because I’m due to give birth. I have mild pangs because I’m carrying twins and I’m nearing my due date.

He carries me and sits me on his lap. “Now start from the beginning.”

“From the candy cane forest?” I ask.

“No from your point of view,” his eyes dance gently as he rests me against his chest, rubbing my bulging belly.

“Okay,” I say quietly.

“Don’t forget to start with once upon a time,” Peeta insists, trying to contain his excitement.

“Once upon a time.”

“This is going to be good,” Peeta whispers.

“Are you going to let me tell the story?”

“Oh yea,” Peeta placed a kiss on my nose. “Go ahead.”

Closing my eyes I picture the year things changed. Because everything in my life was about others and never myself. I was always trying to be someone else, what everyone expected of me. 

It’s hard being a foster kid, and getting out of the system is kind of like getting out of jail. Suddenly you have all this freedom, but you’ve been conditioned to follow all of these rules, so when you are free, you do one of two things. You get in trouble, and try to get sent into an institution; some of us call it the iron college. Or you try to keep your nose clean and learn in the school of hard knocks. In my case, I kept my head above the water for my sister’s sake.  

“I love my family,” I muttered underneath my breath. 

I muttered it again as my sister destroyed, no scratch that, mutilated Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas."  

Did I forget to mention that I love my family?   

I do. I love my family and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them, but at that moment I wanted to scratch my ears out with dull spoons.  

My perfect baby sister is a smoking hot blonde runway model and the muse for Karl Lagerfeld, but she has the worst singing voice known to man. You want to torture someone, hire my sister, and have her sing to the person you want to torture. Within 3 seconds flat, she can have even the most hardened of spies spilling their guts like a canary.

The one thing I could not stand beside my sister’s singing was Christmas. 

I loathed Christmas.

I was not ashamed to say it.  Every fiber of my body I hated Christmas!   If I had ever met the real Santa back then, he had better hoped that I was not holding my bow and arrow, because I would have shot him through the eye. Not that I believed in Santa then, but if I had known there was a real life Santa Claus, I’d have hunted him down, and burned the fat man’s jolly red outfit. I would then gleefully take a joy ride in his sleigh into his workshop like Bill Murray did in Groundhog Day when he allowed the groundhog to drive him off the cliff into a fiery death.

At this point you are wondering why I hated Christmas so much.

There were many reasons why the holiday was so contemptible to me. One, my father died on Christmas day. Two, my mother checked out on us that same Christmas day. The next Christmas Eve was when my sister and I were separated into different foster homes.  It took me a few months to find my six-year-old baby sister. I had been sent to a foster family who used foster kids for slave labor, to have them wipe and clean their floors while the Mrs. of the family spent the whole day in luxurious spas and getting Botox treatments, as if that was going to improve her mug. 

My baby sister was luckier. Primrose was placed in a foster home in the middle of suburbia with a 2 story house with a picket fence. A woman named Cecilia and her husband Ronald had never been able to have kids, and they doted on my sister. They brought her up to be the princess she always said she was. Honestly, they were rather shocked when my twelve-year-old cynical self rolled up into their home screaming for my baby sister, Primrose. Prim came running out of nowhere and latched herself on to my leg like an octopus. Best Spring ever, so I do love the Spring. 

But before you think we were reunited, we weren’t. The family that had Primrose never wanted me. And even if they did, we technically didn’t have the same last name. Primrose carried my mom’s last name while I carried my dad’s. My sister was Primrose Emmerson and I was Katniss Everdeen. Our parents had a silly agreement. They were also foster kids, so they decided that I would take dad’s name and the next one born would take our mothers name. 

They didn’t have family, and her parents lived a common law marriage. Their childish decision caused havoc. There was a mix up and we weren’t processed as sisters. Plus, I never stayed in the same foster home for long so even if they wanted me, they never knew where I was, but no matter where I was, I found a way to talk to Primrose, because as long as Prim was loved and cared for, my situation didn’t matter.

After our brief reunion, I had to go back to the family that I was placed in, and my sister stayed with her family. I didn’t stay with mine for very long; I became a statistic. A rolling number on someone’s computer screen. I was bounced around from one family to another in all sorts of seedy homes. 

So you can see why I’m so jaded. Every bad thing that ever happened to me, has happened on that freakin’ holiday. And there was one more reason I disliked that holly jolly holiday so immensely. For some reason, the universe hated me. 

No matter where I went, what city, what town within the state, I could guarantee you that it was a racket, a billion dollar racket to make parents crazy and buy things for their kids they didn’t need. For some reason, it pleased people to take my olive skin, dark hair, scowling self and put me into a sparkly Christmas cheer, “gag” pointy eared elf costume.

So with a week until Christmas, I was listening to my sister butcher another holiday favorite song. Then Prim screeched. And I sighed in relief.

"Katniss,” Prim said, coming out of the bathroom. “The water is cold!”

I looked heavenward. “The pipes. I forgot they’re working on the water main outside. They said there would be interruption to service.”

“Oh, you know I can get us a hotel room,” Prim said toweling dry her pale blonde locks. 

My studio apartment wasn’t what my sister was used to. She was a freaking couture runway model, six foot one, so slim nothing off the rack fit her. “I’m sorry Prim, I was so excited to see you.”

Prim smiled. “Look, I only have a few hours left. How about I treat you to lunch before I go back up to Connecticut to spend Christmas with Cecillia and Ron.” Prim smiled at me. “You know you’re more than welcome to come. They always ask about you.”

I loved my baby sister. She was amazing. And I was damned glad that the Henderson's were an amazing couple, but I knew the score. They didn’t know what to do with me. “As long as you don’t mind me wearing my elf costume.”

Primrose chuckled. “You make the cutest elf though.” She patted me on the head using a baby tone with me. Prim was taller than me by a foot. I was tiny, or as Prim said, compact size.

“I could still put you over my knee, little duck,” I growled. “Así que mira ver.”

My sister laughed and she delighted in taunting me. Prim no longer spoke Spanish, but she understood the language. “You’re adorable when you’re angry, an angry little elf, aren’t you?”

“Primrose,” I said in Spanish. I rounded my ‘r’s’ when I said her name. 

“Awe, I don’t don’t get why you hate Christmas so much.” Primrose winked going to the screen divider to get dressed. My sister was used to dressing and undressing in front of dozens of people. I, on the other hand, was not so free with nudity. Primrose said I was a prude. If I hadn’t I told her to use the screen, she would have changed right in front of me. 

“Did you know there are only three jobs an elf can have,” Prim said from over the screen. 

I sighed. Unlike me, Primrose loved Christmas. Hell, she even suggested that there might be a real Santa Claus. I told her the only people who look for ways to sneak into people’s houses were criminals. 

Prim continued her story about elves. “The type of elves that live in trees and make cookies, the types that make shoes, and the best type.”

“Let me guess, Christmas elves,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Prim grinned. She came around the screen wearing thigh high red boots, jeans and a camel tunic sweater that looked like cashmere. “Come on sis, let me treat you to breakfast so that you can go terrorize the children of Macy’s toy department.”

  Pt 2 

Peeta grins excitedly, breaking the narration. “You know she’s right. Papa says the cookie elves have high insurance premiums because their tree catches fire all of the time.” 

“Peeta,” I huff. “Do you want me to finish the story?” 

“Absolutely,” he hugs me closer. “I’m so sad you and Prim never got to grow up at the North Pole with me.”

I can’t help but smile at his sincere wish. “Oh Peeta,” I kiss his cheek.

“The only thing I would never let you do was toy testing,” Peeta whispers.

I chuckled. Peeta hated Jack-In-The-Box’s. They scare the dickens out of him. I lay my head on his shoulders. “Are you going to let me finish the story?”

“You know,” he says, blue eyes twinkling. “I’d spotted you in the city that first day.” 

“You were jumping across the lines of the cross walk, “ I grin at the memory. 

“I followed you until I saw the Empire State Building. Then I went to see my father.”

“I know,” I caress his face.

“Start from that point.”

“Okay, you ready now.” My babies were moving in my belly.

“Right, you were in your father’s office delivering the most awkward Christmas gram.” 

Peeta chuckles. “I don’t have your pretty voice.”

I sigh. “Peeta.”

“Right, I’ll be quiet.”

I give him a look. 

“But just so you know, when those guards told me to go back to Macy’s, I was curious as to why you were dressed as an elf.“

I roll my eyes. Did I forget to mention my husband is a talker. He is a chatterbox. I swear Peeta is the type who’d make friends with a paper bag.

"I thought your elf name was so pretty,” he sighs happily.

“Peeta, if you want me to tell the story. You have to hush!” I admonish, if I didn’t we would be here until tomorrow.

“Oh,” he gushes. “Yes, tell the story.” 

“So, there I was in the middle of New York, like a morsel in shark infested waters. I.E….”

“That passion fruit spray is horrible,” Peeta grumbles. “I do not know how women drink that stuff.” 

I want to laugh. There are still things that Peeta doesn’t understand about human society; perfume was one of them, and that fact endeared him to me.

“Can you start at the moment our eyes met?” Peeta gives me a wobbly smile. 

Ah, now I know why he’s interrupting so much. “Okay.”

Sighing I recall that day. Prim and I were out to breakfast. She was harping on me to find someone. Did I fall to mention Primrose was only twenty years old at the time, and at that age I was ancient at the tender age of twenty six. Seriously twenty-six. So what if I had never dated, never had a boyfriend, and never kissed anyone. My sister was right. I was a prude, but I’d seen how love could screw you over. My mom never recovered and she died alone in some home of a broken heart. All I had in the world was my sister. My Prim, and she was the only person I would love. Until that afternoon. 

“Seriously Katniss, you’re twenty-six,” Prim said. 

Eye rolling was a national pastime when speaking to a glamazon who thought I needed to date.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Prim said, removing my sunglasses. “And also, sunglasses in the middle of December, so not tre chique.” 

Eye roll, eye roll, eye roll. Fake smile. CANASTO!

“You are the worst,” Prim hissed.

I knew my sister wasn’t mad at me. Annoyed, yes. Mad, no. “Prim, it’s just I’m not interested in dating anyone.” 

“Katniss, I just don’t want you to impersonate elves for the rest of your life, and when you’re like forty-six, you’ll realize you’re alone with a cat, who pisses in your shoes, and scratches your furniture.” 

I moved to pay our bill.

“No way,” Prim said, slamming her hand on the bill. “I make what you make in a month in two hours of work. This is on me.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. 

“Also, stop closing yourself to Christmas. Santa isn’t going to leave you anything under the tree.”

“Like Santa exists,” I snorted.

Prim gasped. “You take that back. Santa Claus is real Katniss, just like the rainbows, and pigs and frogs having a long term, caring relationship, and love exists.” 

My sister’s wide eyed passionate confession shook me, but the only words that came out of my mouth were, “a frog and a pig?” 

“Miss Piggy and Kermit are together, and if they can make it, no matter what the media says, anything is possible.”

“Huh,” I said, leaving the luncheonette near Penn Station. We walked to the corner, where she’d take the stairs to the lower level. 

I took a look at the stairs, knowing this was the moment I would say goodbye to my sister once again. My eyes filled with unwanted tears. I could still recall the little girl with the untucked shirt that looked like a duck tail. It’s where the nickname li’l duck came from.

“Don’t cry,” Prim whispered. “Quack, quack.”

“I hate it when we have to say goodbye,” I said quietly.

“It’s not goodbye, Katniss; it’s until the next time.” Prim grinned then she took my elf hat and put it on my head. “Go on, terrify the poor children of the city with your menacing scowl. But you better watch out, better not cry.”

I groaned. “Prim, I would rather hear seagulls squawking then you singing.” 

“I know, that’s why I do it,” Prim said.

“You’re a brat.”

“Brat, I’m on Santa’s nice list. You’re the one on the naughty list.”

“There’s no such thing as Santa…” the words died on my lips as I saw a huge man dressed in an elaborate elf outfit jumping on the lines of the crosswalk gleefully. I was struck by the joy on his face.

He looked like an angel with wavy blond hair and innocent blue eyes. It was one thing to see a six-year-old child with that wide eyed innocence, but a tall, broad shouldered man with large hands made me think perhaps he’d escaped his caretakers. His elf outfit wasn’t like the cheap one I had to wear. It was made from a rich fabric with elaborately embroidered gold thread. 

If there was something I knew about, it was fabric. I never had soft fabrics growing up and I was obsessed over soft materials. I dreamed of cashmere, Egyptian cotton, mulberry silks, and linens. His green tunic was made from merino wool, like the ones they made in England in those bespoke shops.  Even his hat, although a ridiculous cone shape, was not some cheap fabric covered cardboard that you’d find in a costume shop. It was made from genuine thick green wool felt with a yellow satin ribbon wrapped around it. A red feather bobbed up and down as he jumped.

He was so happy. He looked up, as if sensing my presence. Our eyes met and he smiled jovially and waved at me. My mouth went dry, because, gaw, Canasto!

This man-child was gorgeous. 

“Earth to Katniss.” Prim snapped her fingers in my face.

“Sorry.” I looked back to my sister.

Prim looked over her shoulder. “Are you okay.”

I dipped out of my sister’s way. “I think I saw an elf.”

Prim laughed. “It’s Christmas, Katniss. Santa’s elves are everywhere.” Prim gave me a hug before descending the stairs to the lower level of the station. 

Seeing my sister go was difficult, but I couldn’t shake the tall man dressed as an elf. He even had on yellow tights with black elf shoes. 

I made my way to Macy’s. I could see the Empire State building in the background as I took a left to head to the employee’s entrance. 

When I arrived, the floor manager Brutus headed straight to me. He was a ridiculous man with muscles in his neck and a bald head. His meaty fingers held a tiny clipboard. 

Brutus did not believe in technology. He refused to use a tablet. He said the muckety-mucks, as he called them, were out to get him. He wore dark brown pants that were too small for his large frame and even when he stood you could see his white socks. He wore a sweater vest with various pens in his front pocket and a cheap plastic necklace that was supposed to look like tree lights.  

“Jovie,” Brutus said looking over his shoulder.

“Yes, Brutus,” I smiled. Jovie was my elf name.

“Our last Santa quit, and we have no one, so until then I need you to help out in gift wrapping. Don’t forget to make sure the ribbon curl is six inches.”

“But you need more than six inches, to make a good curl.”

“Six inches.”

Sighing I walked to the station and nodded to the girls who were at the gift-wrapping station. I sat there trying to make six inch curls. People were insane at Christmas; they were stressed out to buy things, and things never made anyone happy. Things were just things.  

The line of people got shorter and I noticed the tree in the center of the sales floor was looking a little sad. So getting the ladder, I rearranged the ornaments and noticed one of the lights was out. From this vantage point I saw Brutus drag him in, the elf I saw on the street.

Heat rushed to my cheeks and I focused on the tree, eavesdropping the entire time. 

“Buddy, you need to remember you get a half-hour break when you work under six hours and a one hour break when you work over six hours. If I catch you on the floor again I’ll have to write you up.” 

His name was Buddy. My lips formed a goofy smile at his name. Up close he was prettier, his wavy hair curled up at the ends. A shiver ran up my spine at all of those curls. I could picture little boys with blond ringlets and a little girl with dark tresses in green colored elf clothing. I held on to the ladder as I swayed. 

“Wow, what’s this?” HIs eyes quickly darted to the crowded sales floor. 

“This is the north pole,” Brutus said looking at his precious clipboard.

“No it’s not,” Buddy waved at a pair of babies inside of a stroller. 

“Yes it is,” Brutus said.

“No it’s not,” Buddy eye’s traveled to the tree and I hid behind it so that he didn’t see me.

“Yes it is,” Brutus put his hands on his wide hips.

“No it’s not,” Buddy said smiling. “Where’s the snow?”

“He’s right, there’s no snow,” a six-year old girl said. She’d been listening to the conversation.  

I nearly snorted. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” Brutus brows knit together.

“I just like to smile, smiling’s my favorite thing,” he said. Bouncing to the Christmas music that was being pumped through the speakers. 

“Well stop smiling, and make work your favorite thing to do. And who gave you that outfit?”

“It’s mine,” Buddy said, splaying those large hands on his chest looking down at his elf outfit. 

Brutus looked at the intricate gold embroidery. “Fine, if that’s your story. You should make work your priority instead of shopping.” Brutus sighed, looking at his clipboard again. “I have to make the announcement.”

Buddy nodded, but once more was looking around. 

I was working on the tree lights by now and really didn’t want to get down because I wanted to keep staring at him. At his great legs. Normally tall guys had spindly legs. Not his, yum. 

“Okay I’ve got an announcement. Santa will be here tomorrow at 10AM. Keep your receipts so you can see Santa.” 

“SANTA!” Buddy yelled. He jumped, clasped his hands and a little girl next to him joined him. Soon there was a flock of kids doing the same thing, all speaking at once and he was nodding and speaking to them as if he knew Santa. 

I chuckled cause I’ve never seen Brutus look so stunned and speechless. He was carried away by Chaff, his second in command. 

Buddy turned and focused on me. I pretended that he wasn’t just a few feet away from me. I could feel his gaze as I fixed the bulb that was not letting the string of lights to turn on. The tree lit up and I swear his eyes seemed to glow brighter than the lights on the tree.

My stomach did a little flip-flop. “What!” I said defensively. I turned and saw how big his eyes were and the genuine smile. “Are you enjoying the view?”

“I love Christmas trees,” he said hesitantly. “It’s nice to see someone else who enjoys elf culture as much as I do.” 

Of course the guy that would make butterflies dance in my stomach was a wackadoo. I scowled. This wasn’t happening. Getting down from the tree, I quickly walk away, grabbing a few stuffed animals that were discarded and putting them back on the display.

“Looks like someone needs Christmas cheer and the best way to do it is to sing.”

“I don’t sing,” I muttered.

“Of course you can.” He chased after me.

“No,” I said trying to get him to stop, but liking that he’s walking after me like a wide eyed puppy-dog.

“Anyone can. All you have to do is put a group of words together in a tune,” he said sweetly.

I hopped on up on the stage where the guy in the red suit would be seated tomorrow. I turned to look at him. As I spoke to him, I couldn’t keep the hurt from my voice. Because the last time I sang a Christmas song it was with my dad, hours before he died.  “I know that, I can sing, but I choose not to sing.”

“Look, I’ll do it for you maybe it will make you smile,” Buddy said. He takes a deep breath, “I”M SINGING. I’M IN A STORE AND I AM…”

It was horrible, but I couldn’t help but smile. 

“THERE’S NO SINGING IN THE NORTH POLE!” Brutus comes running out from behind the registrar.

“Yes there is,” Buddy says grinning at me. “I’m Peeta.”

“Wait I thought your name was Buddy?”

“That’s my middle name,” Peeta said. “Is Jovie your name?”

“No,” my voice sounds breathy. “Jovie is my elf name.”

“So what’s your real name?” His voice sounded deeper and I swear I could see nothing else but his big blue eyes tenderly gazing at me.

“Katniss,” I said, wondering why my knees were so wobbly. I couldn’t fall for a guy who thought he was an elf. A very good looking, broad shouldered guy with the face of an angel, but nonetheless, a complete wakadoo.    

The ten minute warning came on letting people know they needed to go home.

“Oh I’ve got to get ready for Santa,” Peeta muttered under his breath. But before he could move Brutus appears. 

“Buddy,” Brutus grabbed him by the arm and hauled him away. I was left standing on that stage with a big old goofy grin on my face.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

The first sign; Jack Kline x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well it’s been awhile since I updated my Rock angel series and for good reason too because here is where things get DARK!! As you’ll see in the taglist below I’ve started putting trigger warnings cause in this part it involves stalking, dog attacks (some people fear dogs so I wanted to be respectful). Now the next chapter after this will REALLY be insane so I hope you all buckle up cause you’re in for one hell of a ride.

Also face cast for Steve I put the gif for Joe Keery, and for the Rock Angel’s manager just look up actor James Woods (aka Hades from Hercules).

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queendeakyy​

@queen-paladin​

@queensdivas​

@wormzteef​

@geek-and-proud​

@starswin​

@onebigfangirlworld​

@dj-lowkey​

@naturalswifty89​

@isabella-bby​

@bohemiansweede​

@5sos-wdw​

@labessieisallama​

_______________________________________________________

Everyone thinks it won’t happen to me, that I’m immune to such evil.  No one thinks they’ll ever experience such a thing but you’d sadly be lying, or in complete denial.  At least everyone goes through this type of evil at one point in their lives.  And for celebrities, it’s a living hell because the world will only watch with a bucket of popcorn and enjoy your pain and suffering.

The only ones you can depend on are your family.  And don’t ever say they wouldn’t understand because they will.  Had I not told my family about what was going on—you know what fuck it they were forced into this.  But even so if they didn’t know what was going on, this part of my story would’ve ended very, very, very, very differently.

*2 months after the tribute concert*

I hadn’t slept in a week.  I was exhausted with trying to put the final touches on my tribute album for Freddie.  My manager James Woods was really putting the heat on me with trying to get this album up so that I could ring in the money for him.  Wait first let me backup just a tick and explain some things first.

When I first transferred out of EMI and went to Hollywood Records, my manager at the time was a man known as Desmond Roberts.  He was a generous, kind man who saw my potential as a female musician and like Miami, pushed me to do my best.  He was a family man as well; at the time he had become a grandfather for the first time at the age of 52.

But earlier this year he had to retire because it was by law of the company that all representatives must retire by the age of 65. With that my new manager was his young and vibrant VP James Woods.  James is—well let’s just say he’d make a better car salesman than a recording manager.

A man born and bred in the heart of Boston, he’s the kind of man who sees his own vision and wants other people to execute it for him. Hell he’s even been pressuring me to go more into Pop music as that is the rising fame of music now.  Artists like Madonna, Gwen Stefani, rising star Christina Aguilera, and Mariah Carey.  He wanted to push me to going in their direction.

But I reminded him of my original contract that I signed on between Miami and Desmond.  That my image was to never, ever, ever under any circumstances be changed. Yes he even tried to make me change my stage name into the Spicy Angel (yeah that didn’t sit right with me).

To put it frank—my current manager is a stubborn, two-headed, forked-tongue, snake in the grass.  Sleezy, and can make some vulgar comments either towards me or some of my roadies.

But the one step he took too far was when he hired his own nephew to be my PA (he claimed that he was trying to help out his sister). At first I was against it but with that pleading and begging persuasionistic tone of his, for some reason I ended up agreeing and his nephew Steve Harrison became my new PA.

Steve Harrison.  He was the same age as Jack, had deep brown eyes, a fairly handsome face, but his crown jewel was his hair.  He always bragged and fussed about his hair.  Brown and fluffed up beyond anything, like cotton candy.  Silky and moosed to no end.  Wow and I thought I was bad when it came to doing my air before a show.

Now Steve definitely knew his way around the recording station.  Made sure that every song I recorded sounded to perfection, always sought to my every need, ensured that for upcoming tours I was given updates on the schedule, and he even took my calls and wrote them down for me.  He kept his work profession throughout all of 1991.

But when the summer of 92 came around, things began to change.

As I said before, I hadn’t slept a week.  The Freddie Mercury tribute album was taking longer than the company expected.  That’s because I wanted to make sure every song, especially the cover ones that Fred had given me legal rights to do, were perfect.

I was at the controls listening to my version of Somebody to love when the door opened behind me.

“I would’ve thought her royal highness would’ve gone home?”

“Perfectionists never stop. I learned that from the best group of men I know.” He took the empty seat next to me and presented me with a cup of coffee.  I softly thanked him and went back to listening to my song.

When the last vibrato rang out on the word ‘love’, Steve sighed and said.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s shit!” I complained. “God why did he give me such responsibility to do these songs I-I-I—not I’m even worthy to do his songs. At least not without him.”

“This version is the best. Better than I’ve ever heard it been played. In fact……I think you’re better than Freddie Mercury.” I snapped my head towards him.

“Freddie Mercury was and will always be a genius. His voice is unlike any other performer’s and his style of writing will forever go down in music history as the best damn thing the world will ever know! So don’t you ever say that someone is better than him. Especially me!” I shot up from the chair, it rolled back and slammed against the wall and I turned towards the wall with my arms crossed over my chest, and breathed heavily trying to calm down.

“I—I’m sorry. I was just speaking my opinion. I—didn’t know how much you cared about him. He…..must’ve really meant something to you.” He spoke softly.

“More than you’ll ever know.” I muttered as I fingered the bracelet Fred gave me as a birthday gift. “And I’m sorry Steve I—I didn’t mean to shout. I’m……just exhausted and stressed. With your uncle—”

“Hey, I get it. Uncle James can be a real pain in the ass at times.” I turned towards him and saw him standing a few inches away from me. “Hell one time when I was 16, I had asked him if I could take his mustang for a test drive and he told me ‘kid you so much as even leave a fingerprint you’re as dead as a doornail and I don’t care if you’re my nephew’.” The two of us laughed at his uncle’s impersonation.

“And I thought I was the only one with a douche uncle.”

“Oh trust me, you think he’s demanding at work? You should see him round the holidays.” I softly laughed.  That’s when I felt his finger slightly graze against the back of my palm.

My heart stopped and that’s when I noticed that he had gotten a little closer to me.  Closer and closer his face came but I quickly got out of his way and said.

“Excuse me, I gotta sign off this track and ship it off by tomorrow morning.” I grabbed Steve’s chair and went straight back into my work.  As I was fiddling around with the switches and buttons, I could feel that he was standing right there beside me.  I tried to ignore him and focus on my work but his lingering presence grew too much.

Like a moth to the flame.  Silent but fluttering around too close.

I turned to say something to him, that’s when his lips suddenly crashed with mine.  My eyes widened and my body froze for a moment before my brain snapped back into reality.

I pushed him away and slapped him across the face. Standing up and my chest heaving in so many mixed emotions, but the one main emotion going out about me was anger.

“What the fuck Steve!? Why did you do that!? You know I’m happily married and have children!”

“I—I’m sorry I just…..I’ve always been a fan of yours and I just….I’m sorry. Please don’t tell my uncle. You know as well as I do what he’s like. He’ll beat me to a pulp if he finds out. Please Angel I beg of you, don’t tell him.” His eyes going fearful and tears shined at the corner of his eyes.

I wish I could say that I told him that I was going to rat him out, have him fired even but—I didn’t.  He’s right I did know what it was like to have an abusive uncle.  Now while my uncle never really touched my physical, he did have his temper and would throw things at me just barely missing me (that mostly happened when he was on the bottle).

“Only if you promise me you won’t do shit like that again. And never speak of this to anyone.”

“I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” He said as he crossed his heart with his finger.  I narrowed my eyes at him and grabbed my purse.

“Take the day off tomorrow. Then come back on Monday to work. Professionally.” I emphasized the last word and he nodded and I walked out without another word.

I wish I could take it all back.  That I had fired him right then and there, if I had then what would eventually come, wouldn’t have happened.  Or at least not gotten to the scale that it did get to.

*3 weeks after the kiss*

I was on the Late Show with David Letterman doing a television interview about the upcoming album as well as my tour coming later in the year.

“So Rock Angel your upcoming album ‘Fly High Mercury’ is said to be unlike your previous albums is that right? It also was the one that also took you the longest to make correct?”

“Yes it is.”

“Care to explain?”

“Well as you can tell by the title this is a tribute album to Freddie Mercury.” The audience applauded.  I nodded and swallowed a lump in my throat.  “Some of the songs are what I’ve written but another half of them are Queen songs that Freddie himself gave me legal rights to make a cover to. In fact they were some of my favorites.”

“Now how long did it take you to make this album?” David asked me.

“Well the songs I did, took roughly a couple of months but when—Freddie passed away I took a few months off to grieve and then as you all may have seen I was a part of the tribute concert so in total almost ten months.”

“Wow ten months.” I nodded. “And you said Freddie gave you the rights to some of Queen’s songs to cover?”

“Yes.”

“How did it feel to have that kind of pressure on you?”

“I’ll be honest it was tough. How-how do you compete with someone like Freddie Mercury? His voice and musical talents were unlike anything anyone’s ever seen or will ever see most likely. And when he asked me to do some of Queen’s works, particularly the songs he himself had written, I felt like I was going up against goliath and I was David. But—Fred has his reasons for why he does what he does, and—he must’ve felt like I could help embrace his memory further by introducing a new audience to some of Queen’s work, especially their earliest songs.” The crowd applauded.

“Well said, well said. Freddie will truly be forever missed. When we come back we have Kurt Russel joining us and then after that the Rock Angel will perform one of her hit songs from her recent album Fly High Mercury which is now available in stores. The Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline everybody!” the crowd applauded and David and I shook hands with each other as his theme song played us out on the commercial break.

I went backstage to change out from my black sequin interview dress and into some regular but dressy performance clothes.  A black leather jacket, a white blouse, tight jeans, and some high-heeled black boots.

“Oh angel.” I internally groaned.  Speak of the devil.  James Woods soon came into my dressing room without a single care in the world (he’s lucky I’ve learned to do quick changes otherwise we’d have a problem). “Now darling please remind me again why you’ve declined Donald Trump’s hotel gig? He’s offered plenty of money for your performance especially since it’s his son’s birthday that day.”

“When I went to talk to him he also made me an offer I simply had to refuse.” I shuddered. “He’s a pig and an upright asshole with no respect for anyone but himself and his precious hotel business. God help us if he ever becomes President.”

“Fine. Instead of adding to the profit we would’ve gotten from this, we’ll take it out of your next pay how bout that?” I glared at him.

“You really wanna go toe to toe with me regarding money? Go ahead. Just know I’ve got the best lawyers in all of London on my side and they’ve been good to me for 10 years. So you better pucker your lips and do some serious arse kissing to the judge because they’ve won every. Single. Case I’ve ever had to do. From false stories to paparazzi stalking.” I stared him down even though I only came up to his chest.

Even through those cold, greedy eyes of his, I saw that he was afraid.

“Ahh court cases are a waste of time and a waste of profit. Now go on out there and give them a show baby cakes.”

“Never call me baby cakes.” I trudged out of my dressing room with my red special in hand and headed back towards the stage to sing my song.

After the show ended, I was back in my hotel room in Manhattan.  I had just gotten done with my shower and soon coming into the room was Jack with some late night takeout.

“Chinatown special for the Rock Angel.” I smiled and splayed myself across the bed as he came toward me with the food.

“Mmm room service and a cute delivery boy. I am one lucky girl.”

“Well then Mrs. Kline, do I get a special tip for my services?” Jack played along with a grin.  I smirked and placed my hand on the back of his head and brought his lips towards mine.  His hands soon came to my waist as we separated but I kissed him again.  Jack hummed in surprise. “A double tip? Well then, guess I need to be the delivery boy more often.” I giggled and took my food out of the bag.

“But serious babe, thanks for getting the food.”

“Hey no problem, anything for my beautiful rock star. I know that with your schedule firing back up, you don’t have time for a normal meal like we did before.”

“Did you call your mom about the kids?”

“Yep. Kids are safe and healthy. Well Little Jack had a slight fever but he was better within a day thanks to mama’s secret chicken noodle soup. I know that thing saved my life as a kid.”

“Well then she better……” a knock was soon heard at the door. Jack and I looked at each other confused.  He stood up from the bed and answered the door.  I held my robe tighter around me and soon I heard the door slam shut and Jack soon came in with a bouquet of a dozen roses.  “Did you order those?”

“Nope. But I’ve got a feeling who did.” He turned as he glared to the room opposite of our suite.

Well of course I told Jack about the kiss.  I know what it’s like to have been cheated on so there was no way in fucking hell I was gonna keep this a secret from Jack.  As you can see he has not taken it well, in fact he’s grown very angry and jealous when Steve gets mentioned.

“Let me see the card.” He tossed the bouquet down on the bed. I sent him a glare and went to pick the card out and I opened it up.  And low and behold it was from Steve.  Even though it didn’t have his name on it, I recognized his handwriting anywhere.  He wrote.

Fabulous performance (as always).  A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

Your secret admirer and #1 fan

“You should’ve fired him.”

“Oh so you’re saying this is my fault!?” I snapped.

“No that’s not what I’m saying!” Jack snapped back at me. “I just…..” he exhaled deeply trying to release his anger. “I don’t trust him anymore. Not after what he did. In fact ever since he’s kissed you he’s been sending you a lot of stuff. The flowers, your favorite German chocolates, he even gave a teddy bear to our daughter! I’m telling you something about him now is just……” I walked up to him and embraced him.

“I know love, I know. I don’t feel comfortable around him too. But—he is James’ nephew and unfortunately he wants his sister to get off his back with this favor.”

“That shouldn’t matter! If he makes you uncomfortable you should just fire him and not even worry about what that sales talker of a manager tells you.” He is right.  It shouldn’t have to go on like this but unfortunately the business world isn’t on my side when it comes to choosing my PA’s, I was thankful enough to keep my touring roadies and not get some rookies or 40 year old perverts who get high or drunk.

“The likes of a woman in a men’s workforce. I wish I could Jack but I can’t. Legally anyways. Look I’m exhausted right now can we please just go to bed?”

“Alright. But we will come back to this. (Y/n) I’m only stressed about this because I don’t want to lose you. What if—”

“Hey!” I put my finger of his lips. “Don’t you dare think like that. I know celebrities are always the first to die when it comes to crazed fans. But I swear to you Jack Kline, I will not be one of those singers to die at the hands of a so called ‘fan’. I’m your lioness.”

“And no one can break you down.” We pressed our forehead together and just stayed like that for a good long moment.  I then softly kissed him and went to change out of my robe into my nightdress.  Jack stripped down to his boxers and we put our takeout in the mini-fridge by the bed and turned off the lights before cuddling close together.

*September 8th, 1992*

It was Kelly’s first day of 1st grade.  Jack and I couldn’t believe that our little girl was on her way to 1st grade.  Of course to me it was the first day of primary school but still it was a big day for her.  So Jack and I were sure to be there to see her off but sadly both of us had a long day today so we couldn’t go pick her up.

I was busy prepping for my upcoming tour while Jack got backed up with the car dealership.  But thankfully Jack’s cousin Jared (who was working a case at the time) volunteered to go pick Kelly up after school.  Now this school was at the top with their security, only those who were approved by the Parent or Guardian could pick up the child (which was good with us).

So Jack and I made sure to list the family members down in order so we went from Kelly Kline, Misha Kline, Roger Taylor, Brian May, John Deacon, and Jared and Jensen Walker as the adults to pick Kelly Kline up from school should Jack and I not be available.

It was late in the afternoon, around 3:30ish and I was talking with my tour manager Phillipe about where each performance was gonna take place when the phone suddenly rang.  One of the assistants answered it and she said.

“Hollywood Records how may I help you?” there was a pause and suddenly her voice went frantic. “Whoa, whoa, whoa wait a minute slow down. Slow down who are you wanting to talk to?” I turned to her confused. “Okay hold on I’ll get her,” she turned to me and said as she held the phone close to her breast, “Mrs. Kline someone wants to speak to you. Says his name is Jared Walker.” I immediately shot up and took the phone and said frantically.

“Jared what’s happened?”

‘I-I-I-I went to pick Kelly up like I said I would, but when I got there they had said you had already sent approval of someone else to come get her!’

My heart stopped.  They say it’s every parent’s worse nightmare come true, but it’s never fully real until it happens to you.

I dropped the phone as Jared’s voice echoed through the speakers calling out my name.

“CALL THE POLICE! CALL JACK! CALL KELLY’S SCHOOL! CALL ANYONE!!” I screamed frantically.

The search for my daughter was—one of the worst things I ever had to go through.  Just who in the hell would know where exactly her school was? Not only that but who got my approval to sign off for her release?

I was frantic to the bone.  I kept pacing with anxiety as every fiber of my being was buzzing with all kinds of emotions.  Jack and Jared tried their best to calm me down but I wasn’t going to be calm till I had my baby in my arms.

After an hour and a half grueling search, the home phone suddenly rang.  I went up to the phone and answered it.

“Hello?!” there was silence at the end of it for awhile till finally his voice came up.

‘Lose your little cub?’ my eyes narrowed and now only rage filled my body.

“Where is she Steve?” I sneered.

‘Just meet me by the spot where the first action sequence of Terminator 2 was shot.’ Then the line went dead.  I hung up the phone, grabbed my keys and dragged Jared by the arm towards my car and we raced down the highway.

When we arrived at Bull Creek, I told Jared to stay in the car while I handled Steve.  I got out of the car and right there at the very track where the first action chase scene of the film took place at.

Just ahead of me was a blue Ferrari leaning against it was Steve Harrison.  And through the windows I could see Kelly playing with her favorite doll that she took with her to school, without a care in the world.

“So glad you finally made it Angel. Didn’t think I’d expect to see you to take my advice so quick.”

“Open the door.” I sneered.

“Gee not even a thank you?” he joked.

“I don’t have time for bullocks right now Harrison! Now open your bloody car door and give me back my baby!” he went over and opened the door and once Kelly saw me, her smile on her face grew wider.

“Mummy!” she cheered as she got out and raced towards me. I immediately knelt down and picked her up in my arms.

“Oh my baby girl. Oh thank god you’re safe! Are you okay? Look at me. We were all so worried about you.” I said as I kept kissing all over her face.  She groaned and tried to get me to stop.

“I’m fine mum! Mum stop it stop kissing me! Mr. Steve said you changed your mind about uncle Jared coming to pick me up.” I glared over to Steve and said.

“Honey go in mummy’s car and wait there with Uncle Jared.” I kissed her one last time and she did as I asked her to.  I walked closer to Steve as he kept talking.

“Lovely reunion. See I knew you’d appreciate what I’d done. After all as your personal—” I sucker punched him hard across the face sending him down to the ground.  Blood even dripped down his nose. “Wow. Wow!” he scoffed. “I-I-I-I know that girls could punch but that…..that was—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” I snapped at him.

“You should be grateful. I did you a favor. I picked up your daughter from her first day of school.” He tried to reason with me.

“You had no legal right too! You kidnapped her!”

“Kidnapped?! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa wait time out!” he stood up and wiped his bloody nose. “Wow head rush. Okay hang on a minute. You were incredibly business with the tour manager so I knew you wouldn’t be able to pick her up. And of course Jack……” he sneered out Jack’s name with anger and jealousy. “He works now right? I mean about damn time too, can’t be the house husband forever right?” My glare deepened, “Anyways, so no one else was there to pick up sweet, little Kelly so I volunteered myself to pick her up. Didn’t want her staying at the school all by herself, now did we?”

“She wasn’t going to be alone we arranged for Jared to pick her up!” at that Steve’s face turned to shock as he said.

“Oh. Well—this is awkward.” Oh he was an incredible actor I’ll give him that.

“What is wrong with you Steve? What were you trying to accomplish here?” that’s when his eyes darkened and grew cold.  His voice even changed to a possessive tone as he walked closer to me.

“Jack doesn’t deserve you. A farm boy like that? No you need a real man at your side. Someone who gets the business, someone who is always by your side. I know who you are (Y/n) Kline.”

He tried to grab my chin but I clenched his hand in mine and dug my nails into his skin.  My hand shaking with rage as I stared him down.

“Is that what you think? You think by doing all this you actually believe I would leave Jack for you? You’re even more delusional than Jack painted you. Now I see it for myself.” I threw his hand down and backed away from him. “A wise man once said to another slime like yourself, ‘you just see what you want to see’. Next time you even touch or go near any of my kids, I swear to you there won’t be a courthouse that your uncle can bride with what I’ll charge you for.” I turned and walked back to the car and took Kelly home.

Of course I wish I could say that was the last time I ever saw Steve’s face again.  But due to lack of evidence in the fact that Steve had given a false document allowing him to take Kelly, he wasn’t charged with kidnapping.  

Plus his uncle got involved and swindled with his business talk saying that I was under a lot of pressure with the upcoming tour and that police action at the time of Kelly’s disappearance wasn’t necessary.  He also emphasized that Kelly wasn’t harmed in anyway so it’s not like his nephew was an evil person.  So the police believed James’ story and no charges were filed and Steve was a free man to do as he pleased.

Jack and I reinforced the school and even gave them Steve’s picture saying that if he ever came into the school again asking for Kelly again, they were to call the police because Steve Harrison does not have access to take Kelly out of school.

Little did I know that things were only going to get worse after that day.

*October 3rd, 1992. Jack’s POV*

It first began with the constant phone calls to the house. The phone was constantly ringing and everytime I picked it up, there was no one there.  Just heavy breathing and then they’d hang up.  It happened for hours on end, even at some odd hours in the night.

Soon enough I had had enough and decided to unplug all the house phones and I got me my first cellphone.  If anyone in the family wanted to reach me, I told them to call by my new cellphone and that’s where I was talking to my Angel at.

‘Have the phone calls kept coming?’

“Unfortunately yes they did. But I unplugged the house phone so hopefully whoever it is gets the point and drops these crank calls and finds someone else to torment.”

‘I don’t know Jack. Maybe I should just come back and forget this tour.’

“No, no. Look, you nearly missed out the Angel-Queen tour back when we first met, I won’t let you cancel this tour either. Besides the world needs their Angel right now.” I assured her.

‘Yeah but—’

“What would he say right now?” I interrupted her.  I heard her softly scoff and I knew she was smiling on the other end.

‘He’d tell me ‘Angel darling stop being so dramatic. There’s only room in this partnership for one hysterical Queen. Plus you’ll get early wrinkles’.’ We both laughed. ‘God I miss him so much. I can’t believe it’ll almost be a year come November.’

“I know. Have you talked to the guys at all since the concert?”

‘Not really. Figure I’d give them some space. They know my team’s number if they want to talk to me.’ I nodded and hummed in understandment so that she knew I was still listening.

“So you made it to Phoenix in one piece?”

‘Yeah thankfully. I’ll give you a call right after the show. Give the kids a kiss and cuddle for me.’

“Oh you know I will.” I said with a smile.

‘I love you Jack Kline; you know that right?’

“Of course I do. And I love you to the moon and back. Have a good show baby.”

‘I will. I love you.’

“I love you infinity times infinity there. Now you can’t say you love me more.” I heard her giggle. “Knock ‘em dead Angel.”

‘I will, bye.’

“Bye.” We both hung up and I deeply sighed.

“Daddy?” I looked up and there was Kelly in her nightdress holding her stuffed lion that her godfather gifted her.

“Hey baby girl, why are you awake?” I asked concerned. She walked up to me and sat down in my lap and said.

“I couldn’t sleep. Can you tell me a bedtime story? You know how like uncle Freddie used to tell me?” I stroked down her hair and said.

“Well, I’m not as extravagant or detailed as he used to make it but—I’ll do my best. C’mon I’ll make you some warm milk and tuck you back into bed, sound good?” she nodded.  I picked her up, set her on the kitchen counter and prepared her some warm milk.

After that I carried her back to her bed and tucked her back under her covers and she took a sip of her milk.

“Okay so, what shall it be tonight? Do you want a story about—fairies?” she shook her head. “Unicorns?” again she shook her head. “Oh how about the story of a beautiful princess who gets saved by a knight in shining armor?”

“No daddy. Do you know the story of the lioness Queen?”

“The lioness Queen?”

“Uncle Freddie once told me a story about the lioness Queen who was raised by evil wolves but soon came on top as Queen of her own pride. He was gonna finish the story of how she would find herself a king but then—” she trailed off and I could see the tears prickling in her eyes.  Oh that Freddie, of course he would tell our story like we were two lions.

“I think I know that story. Now again I may not be as good of a storyteller as Uncle Freddie was but I’ll do my best.” I sat down by her bedside and she cuddled up into her pillow, her stuffed lion in her arms. “Now let’s see……the Lioness Queen had reached the height of her reign. Everyone loved her because of her kindness and loyalty, but she was very much lonely. Sure she had the support of her new family but she still longed for someone she could love more than the family love she had from her new pride. So one day when she was out hunting, she was suddenly ambushed by the no good jackal. Now this jackal had particularly taken an interest in our brave Lioness Queen but she knew to not take any of his bullying. However he had brought his entire pack and they ganged up on the poor lioness.”

“Daddy don’t make it too scary.”

“Right, right, right I’m sorry angel. But the lioness Queen didn’t have to fear anymore. Because leaping from over the tall savannah grass was a dashing, handsome and powerful lion.  He beat the jackals away and told the head jackal to leave and never bother the lioness again. Soon the jackal tucked his tail in like a frightened dog and fled the savannah and was never seen again. The lioness Queen was in debt to the young lion that saved her so she asked him if they could go to the watering hole together to talk and get to know each other more.”

I continued on to tell her mine and (Y/n)’s story of the day we met and fell in love with each other.  Then about midway through the story I looked down and saw Kelly was finally back asleep.  I smiled and kissed her forehead.

“Sleep tight my little lioness cub.” I walked out of her room and shut her door and walked back downstairs.

I walked towards the kitchen and I saw Sammy lying asleep on his doggie bed and Bucky asleep on his.  But as soon as I came in, the two of them looked up at me.

“Hey Buck, Sammy.” Buck grunted as he sat up and came up towards me and sat down.  I ruffled the top of his head. “Okay so what do you say last quick trip outside then time for you guys to get in your pin?” Sammy’s tail wagged as he immediately went towards the backdoor.  I opened it up and he immediately went outside. “Alright Buck come on outside go out and go potty.”

But Bucky seemed tense.  He lowly growled before racing towards the front door.

“Bucky? Buck!” Bucky went over to the front door and suddenly began barking aggressively and very loudly. “Buck! Buck shh! Quiet!” but he refused to listen to me.  He kept barking and barking and barking.  His fangs were out as he raced from the door to the windows.  Growls came out of him and I noticed that his fur was on end.

Okay maybe it’s another dog or a raccoon or something, he tends to do that and we’re trying to break him of that habit.  I grabbed his leash and when he was finally still I got it hooked to his collar and forced him towards his pin.

“Get in your pin now!” he snapped at him.  I got him in his pin and as soon as I shut the door he started whimpering frantically, pacing around his pin letting out bark after bark.  “Shhhh! You’re gonna wake the kids Buck now quiet!” I looked towards the front door and sighed heavily.  Might as well just see just what’s out there.

I grabbed a flashlight and quickly stepped outside. I shined the light in every corner of darkness but I didn’t see a thing.  No stray dog, nor a racoon, a cat not even a squirrel.

“That Buck is crazy sometimes.” It was then I noticed that our trashcan had somehow gone out to the side of the road.  “I thought I brought that in when I came in this afternoon? Damn pranksters.” I left the front gate that surrounded our house and walked out to the curb to grab our trashcan and bring it back towards the side of the garage.

That’s when a loud purr of an engine roared through the quiet streets and bright headlights flashed right towards me.  I heard the screeching of tires coming right towards me and without even thinking I ducked right up towards my driveway and I heard the sound of our garbage can being hit and tossed across the road.

The car’s lights soon turned off and sped off down the street. I panted heavily, my adrenaline now starting to collapse as I began to realize what could’ve happened just now.

Someone was trying to run me over and kill me.  I knew that couldn’t be a mechanical problem cause why would the headlights suddenly come on and then accelerate straight towards me before driving normally down the road?

Only one person came across my mind as to who would go so far as to get rid of me.  Steve.

I called up Jared and using his lawyer expertise he asked me various questions but unfortunately since I couldn’t identify the model of the car clear enough and couldn’t read the license plate in time there was no way for me to truly say it was him unless I could physically prove it.

But after that night I didn’t see Steve again, and I hoped that was the end of it.  Until Halloween came around.

*Halloween night, 1992. 8:30pm*

I had just brought the kids in from our night of trick or treating.  You know I’m glad we decided to allow the kids some time to know the American holidays cause I had to explain this to the guys as well as (Y/n) just what Halloween really was (since they don’t really celebrate it there in jolly old England).

I dressed the boys up as little lions while Kelly went as a witch this year.  We all came in carrying our bags of candy.

“Candy!” Georgie exclaimed.

“That’s right buddy. We got candy, lots and lots of candy.” I told him as I got them out of their little red wagon.

“Daddy, daddy can we eat all the candy tonight please?” Kelly begged.

“You know your mother will kill me if she finds out I let you eat sweets before bedtime.” She whined before giving me her mother’s puppy dog face.

“Please daddy. Not even one itty bitty, teeny tiny bite?” I playfully placed my hands over her face which made her exclaim and shoo away my hand.

“You can have just one. Piece. But that’s it okay?” she cheered and quickly went through her bag and got out a blueberry flavored lollipop.

“Hey daddy? How come we can’t do trick or treating back where uncle Brian, uncle Deacy and papa Roger live?”

“Well sweetie, sometimes other countries don’t do the things we do. And sadly Halloween is just another day for them.”

“They should. Maybe next year papa Roger and I can be Star wars characters together.” I chuckled.

“I think your uncle Brian would enjoy that more than papa Roger.”

“But I wanted papa Roger and I to be Han and Princess Leia. Uncle Brian can be Chewie.”

“And uhh—who-who did you have in mind to be Luke?” I said brushing my fingers through my hair.

“Mommy! Cause she’s brave and strong just like Luke is! Georgie and Jackson can be R2.”

“And just who will uncle Deacy and I be?”

“Well uncle Deacy can be Obi-Wan and you’re C3-PO.” Wow she gives me the nagging droid.

“Oh so you think I’m a mindless philosopher ehh!? Come here you!” I quickly grabbed her and began tickling her which made her shriek and squirm.  “Have me be Luke Skywalker or the tickling continues your highness!” I mimicked Darth Vader’s voice.

“Ne-nevheherererer!” she said through her laughter.  I proceeded with the tickling till I heard the sound of a car engine coming down the street.

My mind suddenly went back to that night when I nearly got ran over.  I set Kelly down on the floor and peeked through the curtains and could see someone standing right beside a familiar shape of a car that I knew well.

“Daddy? Is……everything okay?” I looked down at Kelly before quickly looking back towards the window.

“Kelly I need you to listen to me very carefully sweetheart. I want you to take your brothers and go to mommy and daddy’s room and hide in the closet. And no matter what happens do not come out till I come and get you, okay?”

“But why daddy? What’s going on?”

“Just!” I snapped but clenched my hand tightly and said as I knelt down to her height. “Please Kelly, do as your father tells you. Remember not a word or even let me see you till I tell you it’s safe, promise?”

“I promise.” I hugged her tightly and gave her a kiss and told her to go get her brothers and get upstairs.  I glared at the door and opened it up before closing it.  I walked towards the front gate and that’s when I heard his voice say.

“Well, well, well, Jack Kline I’ll be damned. Still around eh?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s me don’t cream your pants.” I sassed bluntly at him.

“Saw that you and the kiddies were doing a little trick or treating. That’s nice of you but umm…..what are you supposed to be? A new kid on the block?” I scoffed.

“What do you want Harrison?”

“What can’t a PA come up to check on his superstar?”

“I don’t know what world you live in but (Y/n) fired you last week.”

“Yeah, you see that-that-that’s…..that’s another reason why I came here. See, I personally am the best and most qualified PA that the Rock Angel could ever have. But while we were in Pittsburg, I get a notice saying that I’ve been fired. Now she never told me why so I thought who is more jealous of me and brainwashing the Rock Angel, than her own husband? So—care to explain?”

“Guess you were dropped as a child one too many times.” I walked closer to the front gate and said in Steve’s face. “She got tired of your advancements towards her.  My wife isn’t like all other rock stars cause she’s been on the end of the cheating stick. And she knows to not put me or our kids through something like that.”

“Really lives up to her angel name huh?” he smart mouthed me. “Let me tell you though buddy boy. We have fucked with each other, and boy is she a freak in the sheets.” Bullshit I know he’s lying.  “We’ve even fucked with each other here at your own house when you were away on business. I mean—who can say no to this?” he gestured to himself.

“You are even worse than we thought. Now do yourself a favor and fuck off Steve before I call the cops.”

“One problem with that amigo.”

“And what’s that? Amigo.” Suddenly I was grabbed by my shirt and a punch went straight through my stomach.  I collapsed to the ground and the gate opened up.  Steve stood over me and he sneered down.

“The cops are working for me.” I was then kicked in the ribs and I watched in horror as Steve kicked the door in and walked right on in the house.

*3rd Person POV*

As Steve entered the Kline residence, a place he had actually been inside a lot with his uncle on the meetings with (Y/n) to discuss further progress with her albums, brandings, etc.  He walked up the stairs and went straight for the master bedroom where Jack and (Y/n) slept.

He looked around as he slowly walked around the bedroom before seeing the closet at the corner of his eyes.  He turned towards it and walked right up to it before slowly reaching for the door.  With a quick flick, the door was opened but no one was there.  He then saw some of (Y/n)’s stuff like her hats and scarves.

He took a red scarf and inhaled it before pocketing it into his back pocket.  That’s when he suddenly heard a thump from the corner of the room.  That’s when his attention went to the wardrobe.  A smirk spread across his face and as he opened it there he saw Kelly, Georgie and Jackson all huddled together.

“Hey kids, whatcha doin in here?”

“Go away! Mommy and daddy don’t like you anymore and neither do we!” Steve laughed at Kelly’s empty demand.

“Kids today. Guess I’m gonna have to teach you some manners little missy.” Suddenly he was turned around and a hard punch sent him down to the ground.

“Daddy!” Kelly cheered.

“Daddy! Daddy!” the boys repeated.

*Jack’s POV*

Like hell I was gonna just sit there and allow Steve to take whatever the hell he wants or worse find the kids.  Spitting out some blood I staggered towards the house and walked up the stairs.  That’s when I heard Kelly’s voice cry out.

“Mommy and daddy don’t like you anymore and neither do we!”

“Kids today. Guess I’m gonna have to teach you some manners little missy.” Like hell you will! I raced as Steve was talking and immediately grabbed him by the shoulder of his jacket, turned him around and sucker punched him across the face.  My kids cried out for me while Steve staggered to stand up.

He soon began laughing before letting out a hoot.  His nose bleeding from the punch I just gave him as well as his mouth.

“Looks like I underestimated you farm boy! I took you for a pushover but now I see just what that bitch sees in you! Lion King Jack she likes to call you!”

“Get. Out.” I demanded.  Steve chuckled icily and said.

“And what if I don’t?” he spat blood in my face.  I then let out a whistle and said two commands.

“Sick. Em.” Soon running past my right leg Sammy attacked Steve at his ankles tripping him over.  Sammy maybe all sweet and innocent but when he needs to be (especially since Steve’s been around) he knows when someone needs to get bit.

Steve fell right onto his back as Sammy continued to bite and tear at his pants.

“YOU DAMN DOG!! LET GO!”

“You gonna surrender now?”

“FUCK. YOU!” I let out another whistle and soon barking in aggressively was Bucky.  And being a German shepherd he was not holding back.  Sammy released Steve’s leg for a moment and allowed his brother to take over.

Bucky bit Steve’s shoulder and tackled him to the ground and I knew he was biting down harder cause Steve’s screams got louder and more painful.

“Boys come!” the boys came back and stood guard of the wardrobe growling and protectively standing guard over my kids. “You wanna test me again or shall I give them a second chance at a new chew toy?”

Even with multiple dog bites, Steve managed to somehow stand up and he glared with pure hatred at me.

“I’ll—I’ll see to it……that those mutts are put down for attacking me. My uncle will hear about this! And I’ll be sure that you’re put away for a long, long time. I know you guys have no cameras in or outside of this house, so no cameras, no proof.” His sick twisting smirk widened across his face.

He staggered out of the bedroom but I heard the sound of him collapsing down to the ground.  The dogs immediately went towards him but I didn’t hear any snarling or growling, instead I heard happy whimpering.

“Stay here kids.” I told them as I quickly I came out and I was shocked to see standing before Steve with a baseball bat in her hand was my wife, (Y/n).  She panted softly as she dropped the bat and then took out one of our large kitchen knives.

Bucky and Sammy stood guard of the stairs to ensure that Steve didn’t even try to escape and that’s when (Y/n) sneered down at Steve.

“From now on you are no never come near me or my family again. I don’t care what kind of connections you have; we’ve got enough evidence with you in this house without consent and a struggle going on in my very bedroom.”

“Screw you…….bitch.” Steve murmured.  Then I witnessed with my own eyes as my wife took that large 7in knife and slam it right down to the floor, very close to Steve’s dick.  Any further up and she would’ve removed his very identity as a man.

“SAY YOU UNDERSTAND! Say it. SAY IT!!!” She roared down at him.

“I understand.” He muttered quietly.

“You what?!”

“I understand.” He said a bit louder.  Her eyes steaming with hatred and fierce mother instincts stared Steve down as she removed the knife and she looked up to me and simply told me. “Call the police.”

Within minutes the police arrived and Steve was finally arrested. The police took our testimonies and a trial date was set for the 1st of December.

Now as I’m sure my wife as explained I wish we could say that was the last time we’d ever see Steve Harrison in our lives but we underestimated just how fucked up the legal system was here in California.

Thanks to his smooth, fast talking Uncle in trying to bride the judges and the jury, Steve didn’t serve any jail time. Only that he would have a restraining order set against him.  By law he wasn’t to get anywhere within 50ft of (Y/n) or our family.

Steve Harrison was once again a free man.

By the start of 1993, my wife was once again trying to contact the judge, police, and any other law enforcement about taking Steve’s advances seriously.  But all the same they kept turning her down saying there’s nothing else they can do.

That the restraining order will protect her, and if Steve does violate that then and only then could they talk serious jail time for him.

“Well then I want you guys to do one thing for me, the next time you bastards come to this house will be when my body is dead on the ground with a message in blood saying I told you so!” she hung up the phone and sobbed into her hands.

I slowly walked towards her and hesitantly sat down beside her. God I hate seeing her like this, she’s been worrying herself sick over this while still going on with the tour which will resume after this week.

“I—I don’t know what else to do Jack. I……” I refused to allow her to speak again.  I embraced her as tightly as I could and she wept hysterically into my arms.  Bucky and Sammy whimpering at our feet with Sammy licking her feet and Bucky nuzzling his head into her lap.

[thesassenachswiftie]

Lover - Chapter 13: “Soon You’ll Get Better”

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 10 // Chapter 11 // Chapter 12

Summary: Claire and Jo go Christmas shopping; Claire gets a call at work that Lamb’s in the hospital in Boston where she fears she will need to spend the holidays without Jamie. In short: angst, but make it festive.

" This won't go back to normal, if it ever was It's been years of hoping, and I keep saying it because 'Cause I have to

Ooh-ah, you'll get better..."

CW: cancer, hospitals, illness of a loved one,

Notes: First of all, if you’re still here, thank you for reading, and thank you for bearing with me as I took a small hiatus. Hopefully I will be getting back to a more regular posting schedule, but work is really draining right now and it’s hard to find enough hours in the day to do everything. 

As you know, each Chapter of this fic is based off a Taylor Swift song by the same name. This one was particularly difficult to write/approach because I actually haven’t listened to this song in over a year. In early Summer 2019, a tumor was found on my grandfather’s brain. This was also the summer I discovered Outlander, and the summer Taylor Swift released Lover. The day after Lover came out, I broke down sobbing in my apartment listening to this song and thinking about my grandfather, knowing his condition was worsening. That night, I recieved the call that my grandfather had passed. He was the kindest, purest soul and I write this chapter in part as a tribute to him. Many of the experiences Claire and Lamb share are based on my own experiences with my grandpa that summer, and this version of Lamb is very much based on my Grandpa Jim. 

That being said, you may want to grab a box of tissues before reading, but hopefully not all your tears will be sad. I’m hoping to post again before Chistmas, but in case I don’t Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays--and Happy Hanukkah to any Jewish readers I may have--here is a Hanukkah present for you!

 Chapter 13: “Soon You’ll Get Better”  

         “All I want for Christmas is yooouuuuu” the sounds of Mariah Carey rang out throughout the small boutique gift shop in the heart of the village of Northport.

           “Good God, we’re only a week into December and I swear I’ve already heard this song three hundred times. I’m not exaggerating either. Two hundred and eight-four at the very least.” Jo scoffed exasperatedly.

           “Are you complaining?” Claire asked in reply. “It’s a great song--a classic really.”

           “Do you know how many incredible, amazing, beautiful, jolly Christmas songs there are in existence?” Jo was gearing up for one of their famous rants, “Yet, the radio stations only ever play the same eighteen songs, I swear!”

           “It must be more than eighteen.”

           “Fine. Twenty. Take this song for instance: Ingrid Michaelson has the most hauntingly beautiful cover of it--do you ever hear it? No! You only ever hear Mariah!”

           “I, for one, like Mariah!” Claire interjected, playfully defensive.

           “Who doesn’t? But she’s not the only powerhouse female vocalist out there! I’d just like to see a little diversity in my holiday music, is that so much to ask?”

           Claire giggled. Her best friend always had an opinion on everything and she loved them all the more for it. “Do you think Jenny would like this candle?” Claire unscrewed the lid a locally-made jar candle, taking a sniff before placing it under Jo’s nose. It smelled like Lavender and Sage with just a hint of Eucalyptus.

           “Does Jenny keep a lot of candles around, with all those children?” Jo chuckled back. “It does smell nice though.” Jo had only met Jenny a couple times when visiting Claire, but they had a knack for reading people and Claire was glad to have them along as a shopping partner.

           “I suppose candles aren’t really her thing. Jenny seems very practical, but I don’t know what she would need that she doesn’t already have, and Jamie’s been no help!”

           “I think you’re on the right track with the self-care/relaxation vibe, but maybe not something the children can use to burn the house down. What about an artisanal lotion set?” Jo inquired, gesturing at a nearby display.

           “Oh that might work!” Claire took a squirt from the bottle labeled ‘tester’ inhaling deeply as she rubbed it between her palms. “Ooo that’s nice, I would appreciate this if I were a hardworking mother.”

           “If things keep going the way they are with your man, LJ, you might just be before you know it” Jo made a lewd gesture with their hands, raising their eyebrows to make it clear exactly what they were implying.

           “Jo! You’re terrible” Claire shrieked, smacking her friend playfully on the arm. Besides, not much of that happening these days if you haven’t noticed, Jamie is literally across the ocean.”

           “Well, at least you can’t get knocked up from phone sex,” Jo replied. “What are you getting him anyway? I’m thinking something lacy and strappy, with little bows on it of course, to be festive. There’s a place down the street that might have something like that.”

           “Hmm” Claire exhaled. “We’ll see.” Claire knew lingerie was definitely going to be part of Jamie’s Christmas gift, one she would be most excited for him to unwrap. God, she missed him. It had been over a month and they were settling into a routine, video chatting every night, sweet texts back and forth throughout the day, the occasional phone sex when they were both sick with desire for one other--but nothing was the same as the feel of their bodies pressed against each other in the heat of the moment, chasing each other’s climax. Claire couldn’t wait to be reunited with him in every way.

           It was two days before Christmas break, only a few days left until Claire would find freedom for the next ten days and, most of all--the comfort of Jamie’s arms. Claire was sitting in her school nurse’s office, inhaling deeply during the first quiet moments she’d had all week. There was an uptick of student visits in the past couple weeks--a few were legitimate concerns tied to cold and flu season: students whose parents sent them to school when they weren’t quite well enough, overachievers who wanted to maintain their perfect attendance dragging themselves to school despite their bodies protestations. Most of her patients however, were suffering from something much more insidious: the eagerness to start their winter break early by skipping their classes. This time of year the air of the school felt different, students and teachers alike were burnt out, apathetic, and ready for a break. This attitude in the students fed into the teachers’ attitudes--overworked with the end of the marking period, trying to squeeze in Christmas shopping and decorating between grading. Claire did not envy Jo nor any of the other teachers during this time, but their exhaustion was so palpable in the air of the school that she was starting to feel it too. By tomorrow, most teachers would be shutting their doors and playing a holiday film, giving up on instruction all together--hopefully that would make for a quiet day for Claire. Really, if she could just get through the rest of the day it would be smooth sailing until Christmas--until Jamie.

           Her silent musings were broken by the blaring sound of her office phone. She was expecting a teacher, calling to send a student down, but instead it was the school clerk, Glenda. “Hi Nurse Beauchamp, we have an outside call for you, it seems like it may be a personal call so if there’s any students with you we can send someone down to watch them if you’d like to take it privately here in the office.”

           Claire's heart sank to her stomach. What could it be? She took a deep breath and swallowed to brace herself before replying “last student just left.”

           “Alright, I’ll transfer you now.” The click of the call transferring sounded through the phone.

           “Hello, this is Miss Beauchamp”

           “Hello Miss Beauchamp, I’m Tammy, a nurse at Mass General we’re calling because you’re listed as the emergency contact for Quentin Beauchamp” a nasally voice croaked through the phone speaker--the voice was impersonal like that of a cashier saying “have a nice day” for the thousandth time, not fitting of a potential harbinger of death.

           “Yes…” Claire replied, nervously, questioningly.

           “Mr. Lambert was admitted this morning after showing signs of cognitive distress. An initial cat scan shows a mass on his brain. He’s currently undergoing testing to see if it’s cancerous.”

           Claire’s lungs felt like they were about to collapse. Lamb had been diagnosed with prostate cancer several years ago, but had been able to live with it through treatment. Claire also knew that cancer was insidious and could spread throughout the body rapidly and without warning. She knew it was very likely that the mass was cancer. She tried to find her medical professional voice, but a diagnosis was different when it was someone you loved. Instead, she croaked out, “when will you know?”

           “We should have the results by tomorrow. He’ll stay here overnight for monitoring and we’ll decide whether to admit him long term from there.”

           “I’m on Long Island, should I drive up?”

           “I’m afraid it’s too soon to tell, it could be nothing, but--” Claire cut her off, knowing exactly how bad it could be.

           “I understand. I’ll drive up this evening.”

           “Alright, he should be back in his room by then, he’s out getting his tests done now. It’s room 713 when you get here.” Claire wrote the number on a bright blue sticky note on her desk as the nurse spoke. “Have a nice day Ms. Beauchamp”

           “Hmm” was all she could reply, as if she could possibly have a nice day. She hung up the phone, and finally let the deluge of tears she’d been holding back free.

She allowed herself to cry for a few minutes to get it out, but she knew she had to get to Boston as soon as possible. She picked up the phone again and dialed the main office.

“Hi Glenda, it’s Claire. I need to take the rest of the day off--I have to go to Boston, my uncle…” she couldn’t say it out loud for fear of unleashing the tears again “Is Principal Gowan there, I need to let him know.”

“Oh Nurse Beauchamp, I’m so sorry to hear that, let me know if you need anything. Mr. Gowan’s in his office, I’ll transfer you to him now, if he doesn’t answer just pack up your things and go, I’ll take care of it”

“Thanks Glenda, I really appreciate it”

----------

           After getting the ok from her kind and understanding principal, Claire rushed back to Jamie’s apartment, hastily packed a bag (likely forgetting several things), informed Jenny where she was going--which was met with sympathy and genuine concern--and hopped back in the car for the journey to Boston. She entered the hospital doors several hours later, the buttons of her coat were tangled in her hair as she rushed, breathless, to the front desk to receive her visitor’s pass.

           When she arrived at Lamb’s room, he was asleep. She didn’t want to wake him, but she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze to let him know she was there before settling into the armchair beside him to await his awakening. He looked so frail and small in the hospital bed, not at all like the strong, spirited man who had raised her. He had left the television on--some sports channel was playing a highlight reel of various golfing moments. No wonder Lamb fell asleep. Claire was staring at the screen, but her thoughts were elsewhere: worried about Lamb, wondering if she’d remember everything when she hastily packed, wondering what the future held. Would she have to spend Christmas in this hospital room? A golf ball soared across the Scottish Highlands on the screen. Jamie. Jamie was coming home Christmas Eve, she was supposed to pick him up from the airport, supposed to spend her holiday break with him, experience her first Hogmanay with the Murray family, be surrounded by love and laughter and family. Lamb was supposed to be fine, he was supposed to take the train down, spend Christmas with them. Every plan they had made was shattered into a million pieces. Would she even be able to see Jamie? She thought about the presents she’d bought for him, not yet wrapped, piled in the closet but definitely not hidden, especially considering it was his apartment. Of course he’d understand--she could tell him where they were, but the magic of unwrapping would be lost, it would feel entirely unsentimental. It was bad enough that she felt her gifts weren’t sentimental enough--what could she possibly get him to show how special he was to her? How could she communicate that with an object? If she were a painter she would paint him a painting, if she were a songwriter she would write him a song, but she was simply Claire, and practical gifts were all she knew. She had purchased a cozy blue sweater to match his eyes and keep him warm in the brisk London winters, a cool multi-tool the size of a credit card that would fit in his wallet and help him solve a variety of problems, a protective case for his phone, and a box of artisanal beef jerky.  She had also procured a complicated piece of lingerie with a big red bow across the chest for him to unwrap the night of Christmas, which she knew he would enjoy. Everything was thoughtful enough and mostly practical, but she longed to be able to give him something truly special--a grand gesture to match her feelings for him. Claire glanced back at her uncle and immediately felt guilty being so selfish. I hate to make this all about me. Lamb always had a knack for helping her realize what was important when life’s situations overwhelmed her. She needed him for perspective, but how could she talk to him about this? How could she tell him how she felt? She knew it was wrong, but she was mad at him for getting sick so close to Christmas. Who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do if there’s no you? The tears were welling up in her eyes as she watched her most beloved uncle sleep--hooked up to machines, pale and listless in the hospital bed.

           Claire slipped into the adjoining bathroom to try to compose herself--she didn’t want her uncle to wake up and see her upset, she knew he would try to comfort her, to be the rock he always had been for her. She was here to be his rock this time, she needed to stay strong for him. She looked at herself in the mirror, telling herself it was going to be ok--her uncle was strong and he’d been fighting a long time--he’d continue to fight. Soon you’ll get better. She had to convince herself it was true, pretend it wasn’t real, it wasn’t so bad. She knew it was a delusion, she could see it all over her glass face when she looked in the mirror. She was genuinely afraid that this could be when she lost him, if not physically right away, he could be lost mentally. She’d been hoping for years he would get better, but now it seemed he’d taken a turn for the worse. She took a few deep breaths and offered up a prayer. She wasn’t usually religious, but they say desperate people find faith, so she decided it was time to try. God? Jesus? Whoever is up there. I know I don’t much deserve anything from you, I’m not sure I’m exactly on good terms with you, but I’m inclined to believe you care and you are good. Besides, I’m not really asking anything for myself, not really. I just pray my Uncle is ok, I pray he gets better. He has to. Please don’t take his brilliant mind away from him. Please let him be ok. Please, I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever it takes to help him. Just please, please, don’t take him away from me. I need him. Please let him get better. Please let him get better. Claire continued to repeat the words like a mantra as she returned to her bedside chair. She stared at the collection of orange bottles on the tray table. Please let them help him get better. Please let him get better. Please, please, please let him get better.

           Claire had no idea how long she sat there, repeating those words to herself, but her silent appeal was interrupted when a nurse entered the room to check her uncle’s vitals.

           “Hi, I’m Brenda, I’ll be the nurse on duty tonight.” Brenda erased a name on a small whiteboard in front of the room and replaced it with her own.

           “I’m Claire, I’m his niece.”

           Brenda had made her way over to the other side of the bed and was checking the monitors beside the bed, making notes on the chart in her hand. “I hate waking them up, but I’m going to have to.” Claire was glad that she was much kinder than the nurse she had spoken with on the phone earlier—had that really been earlier? It seemed much longer since that phone call. “Excuse me, Quentin? Sir?” Brenda gently nudged his arm to awaken him. Lamb’s eyes fluttered open and he looked disoriented, Claire watched him carefully hoping that his disorientation was solely from being awoken mid-sleep and not from any neurological damage.

           “Hi Uncle Lamb” Claire stammered, hoping she sounded cheerful anyway.

           “Claire! My girl! You came all the way to see your old uncle!”

           “Of course I did! How are you?” she replied warmly.

           “Oh, I’m fine, they’re taking good care of me here.” Lamb’s voice sounded genuinely content and Claire felt comforted for the first time since the hospital had called her earlier that day.

           “Hello sir, my name’s Brenda, I’ll be your nurse tonight. I just need to ask you a few questions and check your vitals.”

           “What is your name?”

           “Quentin Lambert Beauchamp”

           “Good. When is your birthday?

           “March 23th, 1939”

           “Good, and who is the president?”

           “Well, unfortunately…” both Claire and Brenda giggled at how Lamb began his sentence. Claire was well aware of Lamb’s opinions of the current president of the United States, and was glad to see he hadn’t lost his sly sense of humor or his disdain for the man.  She was also glad he knew who the president was, hopefully his mental capacities were more promising than the worst-case-scenario her mind was conjuring.

----------

           Claire stayed by her uncle’s side for the rest of the night, only leaving the room twice, once to find something to eat from a vending machine, and once for her nightly call to Jamie. She allowed herself to break down when talking to Jamie, sobbing over the phone. Jamie did his best to comfort her through the speaker, desperately wishing he could be there for her in person. Claire wished the same, longing to curl up in his strong embrace, and bury her swollen face in his chest. She couldn’t bring up the fact that she might have to spend Christmas in Boston. She was enough of a mess without facing the reality that they wouldn’t see each other, and when Jamie promised they’d see each other soon at the end of their call, Claire hung up quickly as another wave of emotion overtook her and she buried her face in her hands to cry some more.

           The next morning, the doctor came in with Lamb’s results. Claire grasped Lamb’s hand, unsure of who was holding onto whom for comfort as the doctor explained that the mass on Lamb’s brain was in fact cancerous, but it was still relatively small and had been caught early. He explained that they could operate on it and remove it, however there was no guarantee that it wouldn’t come back or that they’d be able to get it all out. It was moments like these where Claire desperately wished she was already a surgeon, that she could feel in control of the outcome--though could she operate on her own uncle? Would she be able to hold her hand steady enough to do a good job? No, perhaps it was best left to the veteran surgeons in Boston.

           After discussing all the details and options with the doctor’s, Lamb decided to go through with the surgery. It was scheduled for the day after Christmas and Claire resigned herself to the sobering fact that she’d be spending the holidays in the hospital. As the florescent hospital lights lit the room with an unnatural glow, Claire couldn’t tell him she was scared. She had to stay strong, she had to keep it together and remain positive and supportive.

           ----------

           Claire spent the next few days devoted to her uncle, rarely leaving his bedside. Lamb had forced her to spend the nights at his apartment, which was probably for the best. She wasn’t sleeping well to begin with and the recliner at the hospital was only making matters worse. Claire was present and doting on him from morning to night though, helping her uncle order his meals, assisting him when he needed to use the restroom, adding and removing pillows and blankets as needed, or anything else he needed or wanted. Lamb had been moved to the cancer floor, and the window of his new room had a nice view of the Boston skyline. Lamb was making the best of a bad deal, he bragged about his ‘luxury accommodations’, he cracked jokes often, he liked the nicer nurses, he ordered extra dessert with all his meals and was in generally pleasant spirits. Claire could see the cracks in his cognition though. Sometimes he would change the topic he was discussing mid-sentence, and he couldn’t seem to keep time straight. Whenever anyone would mention Christmas, he would act surprised to know that it was coming up, and at one point he hinted at Claire that she might just get those roller skates she wanted for Christmas, a gift she had not asked for since she was eleven years old. He didn’t seem to know what year it was or how old Claire was. He did know who Claire was though, and for that she was thankful. He also knew who the president was whenever the nurses asked, always beginning his answer with a short preamble to make known his disdain.

Before they knew it, it was Christmas Eve and Claire couldn’t hide the sadness she felt on her face. She was glad to spend the evening with Lamb, but she had been looking forward to her first big family Christmas. She had filled in Jamie about Lamb’s condition and her subsequent stay in Boston over the course of their phone calls that week. She had also describe the Christmas gifts she had purchased for the Murrays, Jo, and Lamb, so Jamie would know the rest were for him. Jamie had agreed to put the Murrays gifts in gift bags and distribute them for her. They were meant to exchange family gifts that evening, the morning being reserved for Santa, and Claire was heartbroken to be missing out. In a matter of hours, and for the first time in two months, her and Jamie would be on the same continent, yet they wouldn’t be able to see each other. There was no way Claire could get into the Christmas spirit under these conditions. The hospital, despite being modestly decorated, was not the most festive atmosphere. Even a troop of Girl Scouts caroling their way through the hospital halls did nothing to assuage the weight of losing everything Claire had been looking forward to for the past two months.

           “What’s a matter, my dear?” Lamb asked, showing genuine concern for his niece.

           “It’s nothing, I’m fine, I promise, I’m just wishing things were different today.”

           “Why today? Is it something special? I can’t seem to remember.”

           “It’s Christmas Eve. You were supposed to come to Long Island and meet Jamie. We were going to spend the holiday with his family.”

           “Yes, I remember, that’s today? Oh dear, I haven’t gotten your gift yet I’m afraid.”

           “That’s fine, Lamb, I’m afraid I left your gift at home, so we’ll have to do that part later. We can take a raincheck on gift exchanging. I was just really looking forward to you getting to know Jamie.”

           “I’m sure I’ll meet the lad soon; he seems really special to you.”

           “He is; I know you’ll like him.”

           “I already do.” He patted the top of her hand and turned his attention back to the sitcom on the television, providing humorous commentary to try to cheer Claire up.

----------

It was late Christmas morning. Uncle Lamb was napping again and Claire had switched the television to the Hallmark Channel--usually her guilty pleasure this season, today it was simply reminding her of how her Christmas was proving to be less than magical. For her there would be no Christmas kisses, no magical snowfall, no saving the small town family business or learning to love Christmas again. All that awaited her this Christmas were fluorescent lights, beeping monitors, and nurses visiting every 6 hours to check her uncle’s vitals. This Christmas would be decidedly the most un-magical she had ever experienced. She had had her share of unconventional Christmases in the past, in fact, she never really was a Christmas person, but it had started to feel special to her when she was living in New York. This Christmas though--this was one she was looking forward to more than ever before. Claire spent most of the morning crying, grieving over all she was missing. She should have spent the morning curled up in Jamie’s arms, watching the children open presents. She could picture the Murray’s living room, trashed with colorful wrapping paper from end to end, each child in their own private world fascinated by their latest favorite toy, Jenny and Ian beaming through tired eyes.

Claire was surprised Jamie hadn’t called her to fill her in on the details yet. He had called yesterday when his plane arrived--groggy and jet-lagged, his communication skills were not the most eloquent, but he tried his best to make her feel better. She hadn’t heard from him at all this morning though, not even a Merry Christmas text. Surely the jet lag would have woken him up as early as the children, and they must have been done opening presents by now. Claire tried to rationalize that Jamie was just spending time with his family, but she couldn’t help feeling hurt and ignored. She thought she was important enough to him that he could take a moment away from his family to at least text her, or to find some way to make her feel included from afar. Had his feelings changed in their months apart? Did coming home to a messy apartment turn him off? Did she find his Christmas gifts and come to think she didn’t care enough to get him something more thoughtful? She thought about calling him, but a mixture of pride and fear kept her from acting first, not to mention she couldn’t stop crying over these sappy Christmas movies.

Suddenly, a voice from the doorway rang through the room, “Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!” Claire looked up in confusion, momentarily unable to comprehend her surroundings and the disruption that had just entered them. Santa? No. The tall figure filling the door frame was dressed like Santa, beard and all, but the unmistakable Scottish burr gave away his true identity. If Claire hadn’t already been crying, she certainly was now. Jamie was standing in the doorway, dressed in a Santa suit, carrying a large, blue IKEA bag overflowing with wrapped presents and what appeared to be Christmas decorations.

“What?” Claire could hardly believe he was there, she rose from the chair and the couple met in the middle of the room for a hearty embrace. Claire buried her face in the soft, fluffy suit covering Jamie’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Perhaps the setting wasn’t a snow covered street in a small town, but this was her own Hallmark movie moment--and to be honest, those Hallmark guys had nothing on James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser. Jamie held her close, and tight, planting kisses in her curls and whispering softly to her.

“I’m here, mo nighean donn.” He caressed her shoulders with his thumbs, not releasing his embrace in the slightest, breathing in her scent, trying to absorb her fears and pain.

All of the commotion had awoken Uncle Lamb and after witnessing the couples’ embrace for longer than was comfortable, Lamb loudly cleared his throat to remind them of his presence in the room.

“Uncle Lamb!” Claire unfolded herself from Jamie’s embrace, keeping one arm around his back. Jamie sheepishly pulled the fake beard down around his neck to reveal his face and removed his Santa hat, clutching it tightly in the palm that wasn’t holding Claire. “This is Jamie, my Jamie. Jamie, this is my Uncle Lamb.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad it’s not Santa Claus, or we’d have a lot of explaining to do to the lad!” Lamb chuckled back.

“A pleasure to finally meet you, sir.” Jamie reluctantly released Claire from his grasp to step beside the bed, extending a firm but gentle hand to Lamb. “I’m sorry it’s not under better circumstances.”

“Pleased to meet you as well, lad” Lamb replied, patting Jamie’s hand with his before releasing their handshake. “And don’t you worry about me, I have the best nurse there is taking care of me.” Two sets of proudly smiling eyes met Claire across the room.

“Oh I dinna doubt it for a second. Your niece is a rare woman.”

“Glad to see we’re in agreement. Now what’s all that?” Lamb gestured towards the large tote discarded near Claire’s feet.

“Aye, I thought I’d bring you two a bit o’ holiday cheer.” Jamie pulled a large cardboard box from the bag and extracted a small tabletop Christmas tree from it, unfurling each branch carefully and placing it on the countertop across the room, plugging it in to reveal fiber optic lights changing colors dreamily. “I usually insist on my Christmas trees being more, well, alive, but under the circumstances this’ll have tae do.” Jamie and Claire spent the next half hour or so festooning the room in garlands and placing tiny ornaments on the small tree. Claire tried to ignore that more than half of the bag was filled with brightly wrapped gifts, not sure whether she was hoping they were all for her, or hoping that they weren’t. After all, she didn’t have anything to give him and she didn’t know if he had looked through his gifts yet nor if he had appreciated them.

While they decorated, Jamie filled Claire and Lamb in on the events of the last few days. Jamie had called Jenny to tell her not to bother picking him up from the airport. He had planned on renting a car there and driving straight to Boston. Claire could hear Jenny’s voice loud and clear through Jamie’s imitation “ya clotheid! Have ya gone daft? Yer barely able to form coherent sentences amidst the jet lag from yer Christmas Eve flight, and ya wanna drive five hours tae Boston in that state!?! Claire willna appreciate ya ending up in a ditch on the side of the road as a Christmas present ya eejit!” Jenny had made a fair point, and Jamie had agreed to sleep at home and left shortly after he awoke that morning, staying only long enough for the children to open their stockings, and to watch their faces alight with surprise at the sudden appearance of piles of presents under and around the tree.

“I’m glad you took Jenny’s advice, but most of all I’m glad you’re here.” She embraced him again. “You didn’t have to do this though, Jamie, I know how important your family is to you.”

Jamie stepped back and lifted Claire’s chin with his thumb, looking into her eyes. “You are important to me, Sassenach.” he replied, with a sincerity that penetrated Claire’s heart. Claire responded by kissing Jamie chastely on the cheek, knowing her uncle was only four feet away--politely trying to ignore them and watch the television which he had flipped to an all-day marathon of A Christmas Story on repeat. Jamie’s welcome intrusion broke up the monotony of hospital life and seemed to give Lamb a better sense of what day it was.

“Now that we’ve got the place looking good and festive, I believe it’s traditional to exchange gifts on Christmas day.”

“Jamie, it’s too much, I--”

“Oh? Thought they were all for you, didja Sassenach?” he teased. Claire blushed. Of course; she hadn’t really--but who else would they be for? Surely Jamie wouldn’t spoil Lamb, a complete stranger to him, quite so much, and no one else was there. She looked dumbfounded as she tried to come up with a defense but Jamie stopped her. “Dinna fash, Sassenach, Jenny wrapped your gifts for me and Lamb before I could see and I bought them along too. She thanks ya for the wee lotions, by the way.”

“God bless Jenny! That woman is a Saint.” Claire also silently thanked God that she had left the present she was planning on wearing for Jamie that evening in her dresser drawer, that was not a gift she wanted Jenny to see, and was definitely not something she wanted him to be opening in front of her uncle.

The three exchanged gifts, save Lamb, who had nothing to give but smiles and approval for the young couples’ thoughtful gifts. Jamie was genuinely appreciative of Claire’s gifts, although she kept insisting that she hadn’t finished shopping and there was more to come; to which Jamie humbly rejected, claiming it wasn’t necessary. Jamie’s gifts to Claire were thoughtful and meaningful, the most touching ones being a print of a painting of the rose garden he had ordered from the Botanic Garden’s gift shop and a bracelet engraved with the words perennis amor, which caused Claire to tear up and embrace him tenderly in spite of her uncle’s presence.

The three enjoyed the rest of the day thoroughly. A Christmas Story played in the background and they laughed and shared stories with one another. Jamie was a born storyteller and Lamb was elated to have a fresh audience to recount his many adventures to, so conversation flowed naturally between them, with Claire occasionally interjecting. Claire mostly just sat back and admired the two men who were most important to her, filled with joy that they were getting along, that Jamie was there, that it was Christmas. For the first time in several days she had hope and peace. She was surrounded by love in that hospital room as well. She had all the things Christmas was said to bring, and for that she was grateful. Jamie had made her greatest Christmas wishes come true without her even asking and she felt lucky to be alive.

The hospital staff served their version of Christmas dinner for the small family, and while Claire was sure it paled in comparison to whatever Jenny had made, it was quite delicious, especially considering it was hospital food. Jamie ate in the armchair next to Lamb at Claire’s insistence, since the two were deep in conversation, and Claire sat in the chair on the other side of Jamie, taking in her magical Christmas scene, better than any Hallmark movie could depict.

After dinner, Jamie was fading fast, listening to one of Lamb’s stories with heavy eyes.  She took one of the spare blankets and covered Jamie. “Looks like you’re still not over your jet lag”

“Hrmmphh, I ‘spose not.”

“Do you want me to go get you a coffee? I doubt the cafe downstairs is open today, but there’s a cappuccino vending machine a few floors down that isn’t terrible.”

“Aye Sassenach, that’d be bonny. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“None at all, my love, I’ll be back soon.” Claire squeezed his hand before leaving the two men alone.

Jamie listened to her footsteps down the hall, and waited until he heard the ding of the elevator before he cleared his throat to speak frankly to Lamb. He sat up straight in the chair to ward off the sleepiness, having a few important things he wanted to say before Claire came back.

“Lamb, I need you to know, Claire is the most important person in my life. I love her sae much and I’d do anything for her.”

“I’m glad to hear that, I can see how happy you make her. She lights up when you’re around, it comforts my old heart to see.”

“I need you tae know, I’m very serious about her. I ken we haven’t been together that long, but I know--I know deep in my wame that I’m meant tae be hers. I want ya to know that I intend on spending the rest of my life making her happy, and while I havna bought a ring or ennathing yet, I wanted to ask yer blessing” Jamie paused for a moment before adding, “just in case.”

“Of course you have my blessing, son. I couldn’t be more glad to know that Claire will be so well cared for after I’m gone, truly.” Both men looked somber, knowing full well that this could be their last conversation, hoping dearly that it wasn’t. Claire returned with three cappuccinos in hand, surprised by the mood in the room.

“Everything alright, gentlemen? Don’t tell me Ralphie shot his eye out!”

“Och! Everything’s fine, Claire! I’m just tired is all, I’m sure this wee cappuccino will cure me in no time!” replied Jamie, eagerly taking a cup from Claire as she set another on Lamb’s tray table. The rest of the evening was quiet as Jamie took a nap, while Lamb and Claire watched A Christmas Story more intently then they had all day. Claire didn’t want to leave him alone so early on Christmas so she let Jamie nap until Lamb was asleep soundly for the night. The sense of joy she had felt all day was still present, but the nagging worry she felt about Lamb’s coming surgery was starting to settle in as well. Claire woke Jamie gently and Claire whispered softly to Lamb that they’d return in the morning, squeezing his hand before the couple quietly left the room.

----------

They walked out to Jamie’s car, since he still had his stuff packed in it, but Claire drove them back to Lamb’s apartment where she’d been staying. The cappuccino was helping Jamie stay coherent, but he was in no state to drive. They were quiet on the drive home, but kept their hands locked between the seats, grateful just to be in the presence of one another.

When they arrived at Lamb’s apartment, Jamie was so tired, he didn’t even want to brush his teeth, let alone do any of his usual nightly routines. However, he had spent the morning sweating in a polyester Santa suit over his clothes, and although he took it off shortly after his surprise arrival, he felt in need of a shower. Claire showed him where the bathroom was and made sure he had everything he needed, and got herself ready for bed.

Jamie showered quickly, not bothering to wash his hair, and only cleaning the parts of his body where any stench would be most concentrated, figuring the water would take care of the rest. A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist, ready to collapse into bed, but not before embracing his sorcha. He scooped her into his embrace and she buried her face in his bare, firm chest, warm from the shower. He smelled clean, and fresh and most of like Jamie. “I’m so happy you’re with me, Jamie. You have no idea how much it means to me that you’re here.” the emotions of the day hit her again and her voice caught at the end of her sentence as tears filled her eyes once again. Jamie kissed her forehead softly, down to her nose, and landed on her lips, giving her the firm, passionate kiss they’d both been longing for all day--and for months before that.

“Mo cridhe.” Jamie breathed when they separated. “I’m here. I’ll always be here for you. I’ll no’ leave you alone when ya need me.”

“Oh Jamie” Claire was still crying, “I’ve been so worried. I’ve been trying to stay strong for Lamb, but I feel like this won’t go back to normal--if there ever was a normal with him. I’m scared he’s going to get worse, or--” her sentence dissolved into a fit of sobs, which she tried to stifle on Jamie’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to stay strong when you’re with me. I’ll be here to help you shoulder the burden. I’ll be here to soak up your tears. There’s two of us now, Claire.” He pressed a kiss into her curls. “You can feel your feelings now, mo cridhe. Lay your cares on me. Come now, let’s get ya tae bed. I’m no’ sure how much longer I can stand myself.”

Claire fell asleep wrapped safely in Jamie’s embrace, free to be herself fully. Free to be vulnerable she felt safe, she felt loved, she felt comfortable, and most new to her--she felt she had the hope and strength that she could carry on, no matter what was to come. She slept better than she had in weeks, secure in the embrace of her eternal love.

End Notes: Thanks again for reading!! By the way, the Ingrid Michaelson song Jo mentions is hauntingly beautiful and you should listen to it. Also, I hope you liked Jamie's surprise. This was going to be a lot more angsty of a chapter but Jamie refused to let Claire suffer and had other plans. I know this was full of a lot of emotional ups and downs, and hopefully we can all find some comfort in the fact that just because Christmas/the holidays may look different for a lot of us this year, it can still be special, and there's still light, joy, love, hope, and peace to be found in the midst of the darkness.

[asiancatboy]

2, 3, 19, 24 <3

2. three last songs you listened to

oh this one's easy. i've been listening to the same artist on repeat going a little insane <3

romantic by wens

her by wens

bleed by wens

3. three songs you were recently obsessed with

bone by so below - recently discovered this artist and i am OBSESSED with her whole vibe. also like over, fear, drift and sway from her

admit it (live acoustic) by erika tham - her debut song. i can't wait to see her blow up

autopilot by tiffany day - mood

19. three songs that are your guilty pleasure

i can only think of one bc i don't feel guilty enjoying except it's cry by ashnikko feat. grimes ://

24. three favourite old songs

the roof by mariah carey

rise & fall by craig david feat. sting

white flag by dido

send numbers for three songs

[omahasnakes]

2005: Karaoke Klassics/It’s, um, it’s ‘Dr. Brightside’?

Song of the year: Bisexual National Anthem “Mr. Brightside” The Killers. I could definitely karaoke this. I also feel pretty confident that I could hit “Sugar, We’re Going Down” by Fall Out Boy out of the park. Amy might pick “Hollaback Girl” by Gwen Stefani. I thought about linking that video for this week’s entry, but I had forgotten about the L.A.M.B. girls. Remember? When she hired four Japanese women to be her entourage? Very good, very normal.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gGdGFtwCNBE

Forgotten gem: “1, 2 Step” Ciara, Missy Elliott

Song I had to grit my teeth to get through even once: “Daughters” John Mayer. Sorry, all. Google the lyrics if you must. It’s worse even than 50 Cent’s extremely creepy “Just a Lil Bit.” I decided this week that I really don’t like 50 Cent, and he’s all over this chart.

“Shake It Off” Mariah Carey vs. Taylor Swift. I said at the outset that I wasn’t going to question the Billboard Top 100 playlists I was presented with on Spotify. A few weeks ago, there was a Halsey song from 2018 stuck in there, but otherwise I haven’t noticed too many shenanigans. This week, the playlist purported that Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off” charted, and I had no reason to doubt that. I happen to live with an amateur Taylor Swift scholar, though, who informed me in no uncertain terms that Taylor Swift was 16 in 2005 and only just being discovered in Nashville. I’m guessing the list had meant to include a forgettable Mariah Carey song by the same name. <font=tiny>The Taylor Swift song isn’t bad.</font>

In other potential mix-ups, “Oh” Ciara feat. Ludacris vs. “O” Omarion. This Ciara song is also pretty good. I’m kind of a Ciara fan now? She’s credited on four songs this year.

“Since U Been Gone” Kelly Clarkson: I can’t sing the chorus, so someone else can take this one.

Song I thought was very cool in 2005 and somewhat stand by: “Feel Good Inc.” Gorillaz

“Drop it Like it’s Hot” Snoop Dogg and Pharrell: I really couldn’t put a year on this- I can picture watching it on MTV in my college boyfriend’s apartment, but the timeline says that’s a false memory, implanted by a hostile government agent.

“Play” David Banner. I could not tell you what this song was called or who the artist was, but upon hearing it, I could immediately recall the music video with perfect clarity. Also note that the lyrics in the “clean” version are entirely and completely different from the album version.

“Wait (The Whisper Song)” Ying Yang Twins: “Wait ‘til you see my dick” These two songs existed in 2005, but WAP is too dirty?

“Some Cut” Trillville: “I’d follow that ass in the mall”

Late Registration came out in 2005, so I took a detour to listen through it. Kanye West is still none of my business! Gold digger has an amazing beat, but is entirely unrelated to any of my own experiences.

Country music barometer for 2005: 3% (I’m comfortable with this.)