#they call me mr holly jolly

[accidentallyatekneecaps]

The kmhn server and I have decided to make a month for kmhn Christmas!

It starts the first of December! Feel free to join, even if it is just for one day! This is just for fun

Anything creative is allowed! Just no ai!

[doctorbitchcrxft]

A Very Supernatural Christmas | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: discussions of childhood trauma lol, discussions of religious trauma lololol, canon violence, canon gore, talking about Dean's deal sad face

Word Count: 7223

A/N: One of my favorite episodes of all time ever. I am so excited to share this with you guys. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of the support. I love y’all!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

In the middle of nowhere in Michigan, you and Dean posed as FBI agents investigating a holly jolly potential case. 

“Um, my daughter and I were in our beds,” the woman before you shakily explained.

“Mike was downstairs decorating the tree. I heard a thump on the roof, and then, I heard Mike scream. And now I’m talking to the FBI.”

“And you didn't see any of it?” Dean questioned. 

She shook her head tearfully. “No, he was… he was just gone.”

“The doors were locked? There was no forced entry?” you asked. 

“That’s right,” she replied. 

“Does anybody else have a key?” you suggested. 

“My parents.”

“Where do they live?”

“Florida.”

Sam then walked out of the house. “ Thanks for letting me have a look around, Mrs. Walsh. I think we, uh, got just about everything we need. We’re all set.”

“We’ll be in touch,” Dean told her. 

The three of you started down the steps. 

“Agents?” Mrs. Walsh called.

You turned to face her. 

“The police said my husband might have been kidnapped.”

“Could be,” Dean shrugged. 

“Then… why haven’t the kidnappers called? O-Or demanded a ransom? It’s three days till Christmas. What am I supposed to tell our daughter?” she began to cry.

“We’re very sorry,” you said empathetically. You watched the distressed woman turn to go back inside, and the heavy Christmas wreath on the door clunked against the door when she shut it. 

“Find anything?” Dean asked Sam as the three of you walked away from the house. 

Sam sighed. “Stocking, mistletoe… this.” He took something out of his pocket and dropped it into Dean’s hand. 

You inspected it. “A tooth?” you asked upon seeing the bloody bone. 

“Where was this?” Dean looked up at Sam and away from the tooth. 

“In the chimney,” Sam replied. 

“Chimney? No way a man fits up a chimney. It’s too narrow,” Dean grimaced. 

“At least, not in one piece,” you winced. 

“Alright, so, if dad went up the chimney—”

“We need to find out what dragged him up there,” Sam finished. 

***

Christmas had never been a completely happy time for you. Growing up Catholic, there was always a hint of, perhaps, fear that came with the holiday. The idea that Christ was supposed to come again, and his second coming would mean the end of the world was unsettling to you, even as an incredibly pious child. 

Working jobs around the holidays always managed to recreate that unsettled feeling for you. Something so gruesome like the case you were dealing with now around such a happy holiday always made you nostalgic for a childhood you never had: an innocent one. 

Around your motel room, Sam was pinning pictures of demons up while you researched on your laptop. The door opened, and Dean came inside. 

“So, was I right? Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?” Dean smirked, carrying a brown paper bag.

Sam mirrored Dean’s expression. “Yep. It's, uh, it’s actually Dick Van Dyke.”

Dean looked confused, but you snickered. 

“Who?” Dean asked. 

“Dude,” you said, “Mary Poppins?”

“Who’s that?” 

“Oh, god, you’re hopeless,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“Well, it turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month,” Dean explained. 

“The other guy get dragged up the chimney, too?” Sam asked. 

“Don’t know. Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof,” Dean shrugged. “So, what the hell do you think we're dealing with?”

“Actually, I have an idea,” Sam replied. “Uh, it's gonna sound crazy.”

“What could you possibly say that sounds crazy to me?” Dean deadpanned. 

“How ‘bout evil Santa,” you smirked.

Dean considered a moment before nodding. “Yeah, that’s crazy.”

“Yeah… I mean, I’m just saying that there’s some version of the anti-Claus in every culture,” Sam said while he showed Dean drawings of the creature. “You got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter. Whatever you want to call it, there’s all sorts of lore.”

“Saying what?” Dean looked incredulous. 

“Saying, back in the day, Santa’s brother went rogue and now he shows up around Christmas time, but instead of bringing presents, he punishes the wicked.”

“By hauling their ass up chimneys?” Dean snorted. “So, this is your theory, huh? Santa’s shady brother?”

Sam shrugged. “Well, ah, I’m just saying, that’s what the lore says.”

“Santa doesn’t have a brother. There is no Santa.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re the one who told me that in the first place, remember,” Sam sassed at his brother. 

Dean looked down, seeming to feel a little guilty. 

Finally, Sam sighed. “Yeah, you know what, I could be wrong. I gotta be wrong.”

Dean shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not.”

You and Sam were confused. 

“I did a little digging. Turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched,” Dean explained. 

“Where?” Sam asked. 

***

The place Dean was referring to was a cutesy little craft fair called “Santa’s Village.” Children played and people bustled around wearing Christmas costumes. 

“It does kind of lend credence to the theory, don’t it?” Dean remarked, looking around himself. 

“Yeah, but anti-Claus? Couldn’t be,” Sam replied. 

“It’s a Christmas miracle. Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year,” Dean suggested casually. 

You remained quiet, feeling almost sorrowful at his statement given he’d discussed bringing this up to Sam with you.  

“Have one what?”

“A Christmas.”

Sam scoffed. “No, thanks.”

“Aw, c’mon, Sam,” you said, swallowing your emotions. 

“Yeah, we’ll get a tree, a little Boston market, just like when we were little,” Dean continued. 

“Dean, those weren’t exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know,” Sam reminded his brother. 

“What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases.”

“Whose childhood are you talking about?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Sam.”

“No! Just… no.”

You and Dean were both surprised by Sam’s petulance. “Alright, Grinch,” Dean snarked. He walked ahead, and you remained by his side. 

“What’s Sam talking about?” you asked quietly. 

“Ah, I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I mean, Dad was out all the time, and Sammy and I fought… a lot… as kids, but I didn’t think it’d scar him.” 

You turned back to Sam who still seemed lost in thought. 

“Hey, Scrooge,” you called, which seemed to shake the younger brother out of his own head, “you comin’?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m with you.” He caught back up to you and Dean. 

“What are we looking for, again?” Dean asked him. 

“Um…” Sam trailed off, “lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets.”

“Great. So we’re looking for a pimp Santa,” Dean said dryly. “Why the sweets?” 

“Think about it, Dee,” you replied. “If you smell like candy, the kids will come closer. Which is wrong on just… so many levels.”

Sam chuckled. 

“How does this thing know who’s been naughty and who’s been nice?” Dean questioned. 

Sam shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Dean turned toward a man dressed as Santa taking pictures with a child whose mother stood close by. “Maybe we do,” he noted.

***

Later that night, you and the Winchesters were just about to confront and kill who you thought was your Krampus. Fortunately for the Santa actor from earlier in the day, you realized the man was just a lonely old creep. 

After an uncomfortable rendition of “Silent Night” that Dean led you and Sam in singing in an attempt to explain why you were in the creepy Santa’s house, you slumped down in the backseat of the Impala.

“Well, back to square one, I guess,” you sighed. “Also, Dean, couldn’t you have picked a song you actually knew the words to?”

“Hey, I did know the words,” he replied, beginning to drive off. 

“Yeah, all two of ‘em,” Sam chimed in. 

You giggled. “Hey, Sam?” you asked. 

“Hm?”

“Why do you hate Christmas so much?”

The younger brother sighed. “(Y/N)...”

Dean took the opportunity to jump into the conversation. “I mean, I admit it. Y’know, we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids.”

“ ‘Bumpy’?” Sam scoffed. 

“That was then. We’ll do it right this year,” Dean tried. 

“Look, Dean. If you and (Y/N) want to have Christmas, knock yourselves out. Just don’t involve me.” Sam shifted in his seat to face the dark night that had fallen outside of the car. 

Dean grumbled, “Oh, yeah, that’d be great. Me and (Y/N) making cranberry molds.”

You knew Dean wasn’t actually opposed to just enjoying Christmas with you, but he wanted to involve his brother.

***

“Wanna smoke?” you asked Dean. 

Sam was still wide awake in his bed, and you and Dean had some things to talk about without the younger Winchester present. 

He nodded and followed you out of the room. 

Despite the lack of snow on the ground, you were bundled in one of Dean’s hoodies to protect you from the slight chill in the air.

“I think you’re turnin’ me into a fiend,” Dean commented as you lit your joint. 

“Well, I’d rather you smoke a plant than drown yourself in booze,” you replied, a slight tremble in your voice from the cold. 

“I meant to tell you earlier,” Dean began, taking the joint from you and looking at the ground, “you’ve got a real beautiful voice.”

You laughed softly and hopped up on the trunk of the Impala. “You’re only sayin’ that ‘cause you and Sam are terrible.”

“I’m serious,” he said, blowing the smoke at you playfully. 

You scrunched up your nose and shut your eyes to avoid the puff. When you reopened them, you found Dean staring at you with that confusing expression again. After all this time, you still couldn’t place what that look meant. 

“What?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. 

He shook his head, still admiring you and smirking. “Nothin’.”

“So, do you want me to talk to Sam? About Christmas?” Dean’s intense stare was making you nervous, and you needed to break it up with the conversation you initially wanted to have with him. 

“Nah,” Dean shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll come around.”

You opened your arms to him and gestured for him to come lean against you. He turned his back to the Impala, and you wrapped your arms around him. You kissed his shoulder before placing your chin on top of it. The two of you just sat like that in silence in the cold, enjoying each other’s company while getting lost in thought. 

“What was your Christmas like? As a kid, I mean?” Dean asked, breaking the silence. 

You picked your chin up off his shoulder and stuck your hands in your pockets. “Oh, gosh,” you sighed. “It was always a little less ‘candy canes and Rudolph’ and a little more ‘fear and condemnation’.”

Dean jumped up on the trunk next to you and turned, clearly a little surprised by your answer. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged. “Christmas always kinda felt like a threat to me. Y’know, ‘Jesus is gonna come again’ and all that.”

“That’s… weirdly dirty,” Dean commented. 

You gently nudged his shoulder with yours. “Perv. Meaning Jesus is gonna come back to life and, like… destroy the planet. My mom always said Christmas was a reminder that this is not our true home.”

“This, as in, earth?” he asked, genuine intrigue in his eyes. 

You nodded. “And we’re all gonna end up being judged. And if you don’t believe or follow the commandments, you’re sentenced to Hell.”

“Jesus,” Dean grimaced. “That’s a little dark to be telling a kid.”

“Tell me about it,” you smirked. “But… if that’s the truth, at least we know I’ll be seeing you again.” You turned to him, smiling a little lopsidedly.

He tried to return your smile, but his heart wasn’t in it. “I’m scared, (Y/N).” 

You nodded. “I know. Do you wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head. 

You took a moment to let his mind recover from his anxieties. “What were your Christmases like growing up? You said they were good, but you never told me why they were good.”

“Uh, let’s see,” Dean began, reflecting on something in his memory. “There was this one time when Dad was supposed to make it back from a hunting trip. He’d promised Sammy he’d be home for Christmas. But, uh, Dad never showed.”

You looked at him sadly. 

Dean’s eyes remained focused on his hands in his lap. “I was maybe twelve. Sammy was eight. And on Christmas Eve, while he was asleep, I went out and found this really nice house.”

“You did not!” you scolded playfully, knowing exactly where he was going with this. 

“I did,” Dean chuckled. “Only, I didn’t know they were chick presents. Sam was pissed when he got a Barbie instead of the green army men he’d been asking for.”

“You did the best you could,” you reminded him.

Dean shrugged. “And, uh, since he never made it back, Sam gave me the present he was planning on giving to Dad.” He thumbed the amulet around his neck and showed it to you. 

“That’s so sweet,” you smiled, a tinge of nostalgic sadness behind your smile. “My little brother and I always gave each other what we could. Normally, it was just stupid little things from the gas stations around or something.” You smiled, remembering your brother fondly. “When he was seven, Steven gave me a little bracelet. He stole it out of a girl’s backpack pocket when she was waiting for her parents to finish booking a room in the motel lobby. He was a great pickpocket; you guys would’ve gotten along great.”

Dean chuckled. 

“But anyway, uh, it was a little friendship bracelet. I was so upset when I grew out of it,” you said. “Biggest regret of my life is burning it with his body.”

Dean nodded somberly. “Why’d you do it?”

You shrugged. “I kept telling myself, ‘He doesn’t live in the stuff. Keeping his stuff doesn’t keep him alive.’ And I’d grown out of it, so I figured, I’d never have any use for it again. But, uh, I was an angry teenager. I was so angry at him for so long after he killed himself. I definitely threw the bracelet in the fire in a moment of anger.”

Dean just stared at you, and once again, you couldn’t read his expression. 

“You keep giving me that look,” you said, staring deeply into his beautiful eyes. 

“What look?” he asked. Dean clearly knew what you were talking about, as his face hadn’t really changed from the look in question; there was simply a slight tease behind his eyes on top of it. 

“That look,” you said, giggling. “It frustrates me so much ‘cause it’s, like, the only facial expression on the planet I can’t read.” “Then, I’m definitely not telling you what it means now,” Dean taunted, still smirking. 

You rolled your eyes and hopped off the car. Dean grabbed your arm and spun you back around to face him, putting you back on the trunk and standing between your legs. He kissed you deeply, hands eagerly trying to pull you closer despite there being no more room between the two of you. 

“Dean,” you said between kisses. “Dean—”

“What?” Dean pulled back just long enough to ask you and then returned to kissing you. 

“We have to go to bed now, c’mon,” you replied. 

“Aw, c’mon, not yet,” Dean groaned, trailing his lips down your neck. 

You sighed shakily at the feeling of his soft lips against the sensitive skin, and your eyes closed in content. “C’mon,” you whined. “I’m freezing.”

“Fine,” he groaned. 

***

The next day, another poor soul had gone missing. According to the son of the man who was abducted, Santa had dragged his father up the chimney. As you left the house, Sam noticed a wreath on the hearth he’d felt noteworthy enough to ask the grieving wife about. 

“Wreaths, huh?” Dean taunted, sauntering away from the woman’s house. “Sure you didn’t want to ask her about her shoes? I saw some nice handbags in the foyer.”

“We’ve seen that wreath before, Dean,” Sam said, ignoring his brother’s flippance.

“Where?” you and Dean asked in unison. 

“The Walshes’. Yesterday.”

Dean eyed Sam curiously. “I know. I was just testing you.”

You rolled your eyes, ducking down into the Impala. 

***

“I’m an idiot,” you groaned, dropping your head back.

Sam sat up from behind his laptop. “What, why?”

Dean turned to you from his spot on your shared bed as well. 

“That smell,” you said. “Guys, we’re not dealing with Krampus.” You laughed at your own stupidity. “I should’ve known it from the wreath on the door at the Walshes’ house!”

“(Y/N), would you cut to the chase?” Dean asked dryly. 

“It’s meadowsweet,” you revealed. 

Dean whistled mockingly. “Wow! Amazing. What the hell is meadowsweet?”

“It’s pretty rare, and it’s probably the most powerful plant in pagan lore,” Sam replied. 

“Pagan lore?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Meadowsweet’s for human sacrifice. It’s kinda like chum for the gods. The gods are drawn to it, and they’d stop by and snack on the nearest human.”

“Why would somebody be using that for Christmas wreaths?” Dean wondered. 

“Almost every Christmas tradition is pagan, Dee,” you replied. 

“Okay, Ms. Catholic, I thought it was Jesus’s birthday,” Dean snarked, a smile playing on his lips.

“No, uh, I had to unlearn that when I left the Church. Jesus’s birthday was probably in the fall. Yule was the winter solstice festival the church stole and renamed ‘Christmas.’ ‘Cause, y’know, eurocentrism. Hooray,” you explained. 

Sam added, “The Yule log, the tree, even Santa’s red suit; that’s all remnants of pagan worship.”

“How do you know that? What are you two freaks gonna tell me next? Easter bunny’s Jewish?” Dean remarked. 

Both of you rolled your eyes. 

“So, you really think we’re gonna be dealing with a pagan god?” The older brother quirked a brow. 

“Yeah, probably Hold Nickar, god of the winter solstice,” Sam noted, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Dean huffed, “And all these Martha Stewart wannabes, buying these fancy wreaths…” 

“Yeah, it’s pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying ‘Come kill us’.”

Dean deadpanned, “Great.”

“Wait, Hold Nickar makes sense, though,” you chimed in, something dawning on you. “Guess what he gives you in return?”

“Lap dances, hopefully,” Dean smirked. 

You gave him a look. “Mild weather.”

Dean looked out of the window. “Like no snow in the middle of December in the middle of Michigan.”

“For instance,” shrugged Sam. 

“Do we know how to kill it yet?” Dean asked. 

“Have you met me? That’s all I’ve been looking for the past hour.”

“While you work on that—” Sam turned to his brother, “we got to figure out where they’re selling those wreaths.”

“You think they’re selling them on purpose?” Dean questioned, sitting up on his bed.

“Feeding the victims to this thing?”

Sam sighed. “Let’s find out.”

“You keep workin’ your pagan-god-killin’ angle, (Y/N),” Dean told you, moving over to you. “Sam and I ’ll be back soon.” He gave you a quick kiss on your forehead, and your cheeks heated at the brief contact.

***

“How ‘re you supposed to kill a god, (Y/N)?” Bobby droned through the phone.

“I don’t know, dude, that’s what I’m asking you,” you sighed. “I mean, I’ve been pouring through this shit online for hours. I’m ready to pull my fucking hair out.”

“Lemme make a few calls, kid, and I’ll see what I can do,” Bobby said. 

“Thanks, Bobby. You’re the best.” You sat back in your chair and clicked your phone off. 

Almost as if on cue, Dean burst through the door with Sam trailing behind him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” the older one drawled. “Got somethin’ for me?”

“I wish. Just sent Bobby lookin’,” you replied. “Got anything for me?”

“Actually, yeah,” Dean said. “That store we went to? Turns out, lady named Madge Carrigan gave ‘em to the store for free. How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would cost?” 

“A couple hundred dollars, at least,” Sam answered while you clacked away at your computer looking for Madge Carrigan’s home address. 

“Sounds pretty suspicious,” you said absentmindedly. 

“Remember that wreath Dad brought home that one year?” Dean laughed while he took his jacket off.

“You mean, the one he stole from, like, a liquor store?” Sam responded, an unimpressed expression crossing his features. 

“Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great. I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it.” He sat on the bed closest to you and went to lean over and look at your computer. 

Despite the fact that you were still on the phone, Sam asked Dean, “Alright, dude… What’s going on with you?”

You stopped typing, and both you and Dean sat up to face Sam. 

“I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden?” continued the brunet. “Why do you want Christmas so bad?”

“Why are you so against it?” Dean challenged. “I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic?”

Sam’s voice became heavy with emotion. “No, that has nothing to do with it. I-I mean, I-I just… I don’t get it. You haven’t talked about Christmas in years.”

“Well, yeah.” Dean’s voice had less of an edge. “This is my last year.”

Sam huffed out a quick breath. “I know. That’s why I can’t.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I can’t just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending everything’s okay, when I know next Christmas, you’ll be dead.” The near-casualness Sam spoke about Dean’s almost-five-month-out deadline with made your breath catch in your throat. “I just can’t,” Sam finished, voice almost too quiet for you to hear. 

The three of you went silent. To distract yourself from the heaviness in the room, you went back to typing on your laptop to find Madge Carrigan’s address and any information on her that suggested she really was your bad guy. 

You could feel Dean staring at you, though, and you knew he needed you at that moment. So you shut your laptop and got into bed with him. He laid against your chest, and you kept your arms around him tightly. Soon, you drifted off to a dreamless sleep. 

***

The next day, you and Dean headed to the Carrigan’s home. Sam stayed behind to research and see if you had missed anything in your search the night before. The house you arrived at was decorated with cutesy Christmas decorations and screamed the 1950s “American dream.”

“This is where Mrs. Wreath lives, huh?” Dean remarked, looking around. “Can’t you just feel the evil pagan vibe?” He rapped his knuckles against the door. 

A blonde, middle-aged woman in a sweater opened it. “Yes?” she answered sweetly. 

“Please tell me you’re the Madge Carrigan who makes the meadowsweet wreaths,” Dean said. 

“Why, yes I am,” she smiled widely. 

“Ha! Bingo.” Dean turned to you with a grin. 

“We just moved into the neighborhood,” you lied, gesturing between yourself and Dean, “and we were mingling with the Sylars the other day. They had one of your beautiful wreaths on their fireplace. He and I were immediately in love with it.”

“You were? Well, isn't that meadowsweet just the finest-smelling thing you ever smelled?” Mrs. Carrigan’s smile had not lessened since she opened the front door; it was creeping you out. 

“It is; it sure is,” you replied. “But the problem is that all your wreaths had sold out before we got the chance to buy one.”

“Oh, fudge!” she pouted. 

“You wouldn’t have another one that we could buy from you, would you?” Dean questioned.

“Oh, no, I’m afraid those were the only ones I had for this season.”

“Aww…” you whined, deflating. 

“Tell me something, why did you decide to make them out of meadowsweet?” your partner asked. 

A man who you assumed was Mr. Carrigan came down the staircase behind the woman as she answered, “Why, the smell, of course! I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything finer.”

‘She… already said that,’ you thought, but you kept the smile plastered on your face.

“What's going on, honey?” Mr. Carrigan asked his wife. You noticed his outfit of choice was a cardigan and slacks, and he held an old-fashioned pipe. The two reminded you very much of “Leave it to Beaver.”

“Well, just this nice couple asking about my wreaths, dear.”

“Oh, the wreaths are fine,” Mr. Carrigan affirmed. “Fine wreaths. Oh, care for some peanut brittle?” He held out a tin, and Dean took a piece. 

You gave him a harsh glare, preventing him from raising the brittle to his lips. Politely, you bid the couple goodbye and kept Dean from snacking while he started to drive.

As soon as you got out of the line of the Carrigans’ sights, you took the peanut brittle and chucked it out of the window. 

“What was that for? I’m hungry,” Dean whined. 

“Evil pagans, Dean,” you reminded him. “I don’t want you to get magical food poisoning.” You kissed his cheek and sat back in your chair.

He considered for a moment but finally seemed to admit defeat when he hung his head, a small smile and a blush rising to his cheeks. 

***

That night, you and the Winchesters headed back to the Carrigan’s home. “ ‘O Come All Ye Faithful” played from somewhere down the street, and the soft glow of Christmas lights on strings shining through the dark night almost made you feel like a child again; falling asleep in the back of your family’s station wagon while your mother hummed along to the Christmas tunes on the radio. 

An evergreen stake was hidden in your jacket’s inside pocket; Bobby was becoming your favorite person with his seemingly endless amounts of contacts and information. Sam had informed you and his brother that the last place the Carrigans had lived, three people disappeared, too. 

You followed Dean into the living room of the dark home after he picked the lock. He turned around and whispered, “See? Plastic.” He gestured to the couch and other furniture  still covered in sheets of it.

You headed down the hallway where ornaments and snow globes rested on shelves on the wall. You made your way into the kitchen where Sam and Dean were looking at a lock on the basement door. Dean picked it, and you followed him down the stairs. You did your best to avoid making the stairs creak as you did so. 

You shined your flashlight around and realized the basement was less of a storage room and more of Hannibal Lector’s playroom; a bowl of blood and bone sat at the end of a bloodstained wooden table just big enough to fit a human on that had shackles outfitted to each of its corners. You backed up along the wall, only to bump into something that moved. You yelped in surprise and wheeled around to see a leather bag wriggling around, as if a person was inside it. 

Suddenly, you felt a hand on the back of your shirt, lifting you up, and you screamed. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean yelled. 

You wriggled and kicked with all your might, but Mr. Carrigan was too strong. He turned you around and held you to the wall by your throat, and you clawed at his hand to get away from him. However, slowly losing air, you were unsure whether the best strategy was to fight or to conserve your oxygen. 

“Gosh, I wish you kids hadn’t come down here,” Madge smiled sweetly.

***

Slowly, your mind began to awaken. Your limbs and head felt heavy, and the light seeping in through your closed eyes felt painful. You blinked a few times, soon able to fully open your eyes and look around. 

You jerked a little in your seat but soon realized your hands were bound to the chair. You turned your head to the left to see Dean tied up shoulders slumped, and on the right, Sam. You supposed the two boys were tied back to back and your chair was tied sort of in between the two. However, you couldn’t see anything going on behind you. 

“Dean? You okay?” you asked frantically when you heard him groan. 

“Yeah, I think so,” he grumbled. 

“How ‘bout you, Sam?” 

Sam just hummed in response. “So, I guess we’re dealing with Mr. and Mrs. God. Nice to know.”

“Yeah,” Dean murmured, breathing deeply. 

You heard approaching footsteps coming from behind you. 

“Ooh, and here we thought you two lazybones were gonna sleep straight through all the fun stuff,” you heard Madge giggle. 

“Miss all this? Nah, we’re partiers,” Dean snarked. 

You heard Mr. Carrigan take a puff from his pipe. “Isn’t he a kick in the pants, honey? You’re hunters, is what you are.”

“And you’re pagan gods. So, why don't we just call it even, and go our separate ways?” the older brother suggested. 

“What, so you can bring more hunters and kill us?” Madge laughed, voice still sugary sweet. “I don’t think so.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you went snacking on humans, now, huh?” Sam shot back.

“Oh now, don’t get all wet,” Mr. Carrigan scolded gently. 

“Oh, why, we used to take over a hundred tributes a year and that’s a fact.” You turned to the left to see Madge put a napkin on Dean’s lap. “Now what do we take?” She did the same to you. “What, two? Three?” And then did the same to Sam.

“Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew here make six.” Mr. Carrigan took another drag from his pipe. Funnily enough, you hadn’t seen him light the thing once yet. 

“Now, that’s not so bad, is it?” Madge crooned. 

“Well, you say it like that,” Dean sassed, “I guess you guys are the Cunninghams.”

“You, mister, better show us a little respect,” Madge instructed, and you could see her leaning down to try and intimidate Dean.

“Or what?” you remarked, trying to crane your neck around to look at the Carrigans. “You gonna eat us?”

“Not so fast,” Mr. Carrigan responded. “There’s rituals to be followed first.”

You turned to Madge, who looked excited. “Oh, we’re just sticklers for ritual.”

“And you know what kicks off the whole shebang?” Mr. Carrigan taunted, walking around in front of you.

“Let me guess.” The glare you delivered was challenging. “Meadowsweet.”

Mr. Carrigan nodded. 

“Oh shucks,” you mockingly pouted, “you’re all out of wreaths. I guess we’ll just have to cancel the sacrifice, huh?”

“Oh, don’t be such a gloomy Gus.” You could hear Madge rustling around as she spoke. Suddenly, a wreath was put around your neck. You attempted to bite Mrs. Carrigan’s fingers to no avail, and she just tapped your nose in response. “There. Oh, don’t they just look darling?

Mr. Carrigan smacked his lips. “Good enough to eat. Alrighty-roo. Step number two.” You heard the sound of a knife being released from its sheath. 

Sam started mumbling, “No, no—” to which you and Dean cried his name. 

“D-Don’t!” Sam wailed. 

“Leave him alone, you son of a bitch!” Dean shouted. 

You struggled even harder against your binds.

“Hear how they talk to us?” Mr. Carrigan tsked. “To gods? Listen, pal, back in the day, we were worshiped by millions.”

Mr. Carrigan walked around to you holding the bowl, and you started to panic just a little. 

“Times have changed!” Dean growled. 

“Tell me about it. All of a sudden, this Jesus character is the hot new thing in town. All of a sudden, our– our altars are being burned down, and we’re being hunted down like common monsters.” Mr. Carrigan walked back behind what you assumed was the kitchen counter.

“But did we say a peep? Oh ho ho, no, no, no, we did not. Two millennia,” Madge continued for her husband. “We kept a low profile; we got jobs, a mortgage. Wh- What was that word, dear?”

“We assimilated.”

“Yeah, we assimilated. Why, we play bridge on Tuesday and Fridays.” The woman walked over to you holding the bowl with Sam’s blood in it. “We’re just like everybody else.”

“You’re not blending in as smooth as you think, lady,” Dean snarked. Madge ignored your partner’s comment. “This might pinch a bit, dear.” With that, she sliced into your arm deeply. 

“F-Fuck!” you screamed. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean yelled. “Get your hands off her!”

“Oh, my goodness me! Somebody owes a nickel to the swear jar. Oh, do you know what I say when I feel like swearing?” Madge waved the knife around in your face as you panted in pain. “ ‘Fudge’.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” you sassed. 

“Oh, god, you son of a bitch!” Dean howled, and you assumed Madge had cut him up, too. 

“Get away from him!” you yelled, creating brush burns on your arms from how hard you were pulling on your binds.

“You kids have no idea how lucky you are,” Mr. Carrigan said. “There was a time when kids came from miles around, just to be sitting where you are.” He came to a stop in front of you holding a pair of pliers.

“What do you think you’re doing with those?” you asked, chest heaving in panic. 

All he did was smile in response. 

“You fudging touch her again, and I’ll fudging kill you!” Dean growled. 

“Very good!” Madge praised just before you heard your love groan in pain again. 

You had no time to focus on Dean because Mr. Carrigan grabbed your hand. 

“No, no, don’t!” Sam begged from beside you. 

“Get off me!” you cried, and your cry soon turned into a scream as the god painfully pulled your index fingernail off. 

“Oh, we got a winner!” Mr. Carrigan exclaimed happily. He disappeared from your line of sight again, and you dropped your head back on your chair. Your finger and arm were throbbing, and you couldn’t help but cry. 

“I swear to god, (Y/N), I’ll fucking kill them,” you heard Dean mutter through the white hot pain roaring in your ears.

“What else, dear?” Madge cooed. 

“Well, let’s see. Uh, fingernails, blood. Oh! Sweet Peter on a popsicle stick,” the man laughed. “I forgot the tooth.”

“Oh, dear!”

“Merry Christmas, guys,” Dean said, out of breath. 

You turned your head to see Madge and Mr. Carrigan advancing on Dean. The man held the pliers up and grabbed Dean’s chin harshly. “Open wide… and say, ‘Aah’.”

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. 

“Somebody gonna get that?” Dean asked around the tool in his mouth. “You should get that.”

“Come on,” Mr. Carrigan finally said. 

You knew you had to act fast, and you started working the knife out of your sleeve as soon as the doors shut behind the Carrigans. Silently, all three of you got out of your binds. You hid with Dean behind one of the kitchen doors. 

“Now, where were we?” you heard Madge say. 

You pulled a drawer out to hold the door closed and trapped the Carrigans in the kitchen. Almost immediately, the couple was attempting to open them. 

You made your way over to Sam at the other end of the kitchen and leaned on the door beside him.

“What do we do now? The evergreen stakes are in the basement!” Dean whispered. 

“Well, we need more evergreen, Dean!” Sam replied. 

You looked over at the tree in the corner of the living room. “Guys. Bingo.”

Dean smirked excitedly. “Sam, help me get this.” He had his brother assist him in moving the large cabinet next to the door in front of it.

While the boys worked, you pushed the Christmas tree over and broke three large branches off it. You tossed one to both boys who caught them with ease. 

Gripping your stake tightly, you waited with bated breath as the house went silent. Suddenly, Mr. Carrigan tackled Dean to the ground. Madge grabbed your shoulder before you could help Dean and wheeled you around. “You little thing,” she chastised. “I loved that tree.”

You raised your stake, but she hit you hard and threw you back onto the plastic-covered couch. The woman stalked toward you, and you whacked her to the ground with the branches of your stake. You scrambled to your feet before she could recover and stabbed her through the chest with your stake.

“Madge!” Mr. Carrigan screamed just before Sam stabbed him with his own makeshift stake.

You moved to stand beside the two boys, chest heaving from the effort. “Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals,” you breathed out at the dead bodies at your feet. The two boys huffed out labored laughs before Dean slung his arm around your shoulder and began leading you out of the house. 

***

“How’d you keep Dean from finding this stuff?” Sam asked.

You pulled a few plastic bags out from under the bed you shared with the older Winchester. “He doesn’t look under here unless it’s for his shoes. I’ve been making sure they’re next to mine by the door every night,” you explained with a smile. You handed one of the bags to Sam. “It’s not much, but I found a crappy dollar store down the road. I was hoping you’d change your mind.”

Sam looked down sheepishly. “You do get why I was… hesitant, though, right?”

You stood up and nodded. “Absolutely, I do.”

He gave you a lopsided smile. 

“C’mon,” you said. “Oh! I almost forgot!”

“What?”

You stooped to pull out the little plastic Christmas tree from under Sam’s bed and held it up with a wide grin.

***

Dean returned almost an hour later holding a six pack. “What’s all this?” he asked, almost in a sort of daze as he looked around the decorated room.

You continued to busy yourself with making eggnog while the brothers talked.

“What do you think it is? It’s– it’s Christmas,” Sam replied.

You walked over to Sam with a cup of your concoction.

“What made you change your mind?” Dean asked him.

“Oh, thanks,” Sam told you without answering his brother.

“Lemme know if it needs more of a kick,” you said. 

Sam took a swig and coughed. “Nope, all good.”

“Yeah?” you grinned.

Sam nodded and smiled. 

Dean came up behind you and slipped an arm around your waist, his hand landing just above your ass. He smirked down at you and took the other cup of eggnog from your left hand. He gulped almost half of it down, unfazed by the strong whiskey taste. 

“Well, uh, have a seat. Let’s do… Christmas stuff, or whatever,” Sam awkwardly said. 

You sat beside Dean on the couch next to the small Christmas tree decorated with car air fresheners. Sam pulled up a chair across from you. 

“All right, first things first,” Dean nodded, and you handed him the two packages he’d wrapped shoddily in brown paper bags. “Merry Christmas, Sam.” Dean handed him one of the two bags.

Sam smiled widely. “Where’d you get these?”

“Someplace special,” Dean smirked. At Sam’s deadpan expression, Dean continued, “The gas mart down the street. Open them up.”

“Well, great minds think alike, Dean.” Sam brought out two packages wrapped in newspaper. He gave the first to Dean. 

“Really?” Dean asked, eyes shining with surprise. 

You left Dean’s arms momentarily to reach under the couch and brought out two packages daintily wrapped in brown paper. You handed one to each of the boys, and they handed their gifts to you. “You didn’t have to get me anything, guys,” you said. 

“Yeah, we did. Shuddup,” Dean remarked, smirking. 

You relaxed back against him while Sam opened his gift from Dean. “Skin mags!” he laughed. “And shaving cream.”

“You like?” Dean questioned.

Sam smiled and nodded. He then opened the gift from you. “Oh, no way!” He held up the Staind cassette tapes you’d gotten for him to add to Dean’s collection for long drives; especially for when Dean was gone. 

You grinned widely as he admired the tapes. “Okay, Dee, your turn,” you told him. 

He chuckled and unwrapped Sam’s gift to him. “Look at this! Fuel for me and fuel for my baby.” He held up a candy bar and a bottle of oil, and you laughed. “These are awesome,” the older brother said. “Thanks, Sammy.” 

“Okay, now mine,” you beamed. 

“Oh, holy shit,” Dean breathed out while he opened the Bowie knife you’d gotten engraved for him. On the hilt of the blade were his initials, and the handle was engraved to look just like the side of his prized Taurus pistol. “Jesus, (Y/N), this is—” he couldn’t seem to find the words, instead opting to place a long kiss on the side of your forehead. 

At last, you opened yours. Sam gave you the second book in a series you’d been reading on Greek myths, for which you were eternally grateful, but Dean’s gift truly floored you.

“Where’d you get this?” you asked, fingering the small beaded bracelet Dean had given you. 

“Off some kid in the lobby,” he smirked.

Tears filled your eyes at how close of attention he paid to you and your stories. 

“There’s something else in there, too.” 

You looked up to Dean with complete admiration before rummaging around in the bag once more. You pulled out a ripped piece of paper from the notepad at a motel you’d recently stayed at with the words, “Redeem on Dean’s expiration date.” You looked up to him in confusion.

“It’s, uh, for this,” Dean revealed, thumbing the amulet around his neck. “I want you to have it.” 

You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He returned your fierce embrace, pulling you impossibly closer across his lap. 

“Merry Christmas, Deano,” you whispered into his shoulder.

Dean pulled away from you and kissed your forehead. He then held his eggnog up to cheers you and Sam. “Merry Christmas, guys.”

The three of you sat in silence sipping your drinks before Sam broke the quiet. 

He looked quite sad as he began, “Hey, Dean, y—” but Sam cut himself off, sighing and shaking his head. “Do you feel like watching the game?” he finally asked.

Dean grinned in relief. “Absolutely.”

You clicked on the television before settling into Dean’s side. He lazily thumbed your hip and sighed in content. Sam turned his chair to face the television.

***

Later that night, long after Dean and Sam had gone to bed, you were still wide awake. Snow had begun softly falling outside the motel room window, and the moonlight reflected off the white blanket over the Impala beautifully. Wrapped in a blanket, you made your way over to your duffel bag. You hadn’t taken the bracelet that Dean gave you off, and you were still holding the piece of paper to “redeem” when Dean was gone. 

You took your wallet out and slipped the piece of paper into the see-through pocket where your ID sat, and there it would stay until this was all over. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[silentglassbreak]

Fragmented

Noah Sebastian x OFC

I had far too much fun writing this chapter.

Warnings: Threats of violence.

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Taglist: @flowery-mess @lma1986 @myownthoughts12 @poisongirl616 @missduffsblog @reidsblessing @malerieee @jilliemiw86 @thisbicc @xx-like-a-villian-xx @diabolicdiatonics

Part 10 - Take Me Under

“She’s actually fucking suing us?!”

“Mr. Sebastian, I understand you’re upset, but I’m going to have to ask that you lower your voice.”

I tightened my jaw, and squeezed my eyes shut. Elizabeth was sat across the table, her eyes stern on all of us.

After I got the paperwork last night, I called Jolly, who immediately called Alec. The rest of the guys were all served the same lawsuit this morning, and we were told to meet down at Rourke, Mansfield, and Jones, Elizabeth’s office.

I was breathing heavily, massaging my temple with one hand.

“Ms. Hollis has filed for wrongful termination, emotional distress, and sexual harassment.” Her eyes looked up at us, Alec’s mouth hanging open wide. “She’s seeking two million in damages.”

I felt the air leave my lungs.

Two million dollars?

“We have thirty days to respond to the suit, so we need to discuss if we want to counter sue.”

“Wait…what does that mean?” Folio looked absolutely puzzled.

“It means that we can sue her back, for damages.” Jolly chimed in, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers on the table.

“How the fuck can she even do this?” I was working overtime to keep my voice even, tugging at my turtleneck.

“She can do whatever she wants. Whether she wins or not is the real question.” Elizabeth and her co-counsel were sitting, flipping through the complaint paperwork. The man sat next to her, who was introduced as Richard Rourke, head of the firm, had his eyes scanning the paperwork at lightning speed.

“Her case is fairly weak, but it’s hard to tell how much ground she can get until we take depositions.” His voice was impossibly deep, serious as a heart attack.

“Depositions?” Nick spoke up.

“Statements. About all of the events.” Elizabeth clarified.

Alec, who had a copy of the complaint in front of him, was reading through it. My eyes glanced over.

“This references the night at the club and the hotel, and then an incident in San Diego where you intimidated her?”

He looked at me sideways, and I rolled my eyes.

“I didn’t fucking intimidate her. I went to her room to give her a piece of my fucking mind.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “In what way?”

“I banged on her God damn door, and yelled at her. She had manipulated me!”

She closed her eyes and set her pen down. “Noah, she says in the suit you lunged at her, and she had to hide behind the door. And that you had to be restrained by Mr. Ruffilo and Mr. Karlsson. That’s not true, right?”

I sat back and scoffed, eyes falling to the table. “This is insane.”

“Mr. Sebastian? Is it true?” Richard asked, baritone voice vibrating through me.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed hard. “It may be.”

The two lawyers exchanged glances, eyes solemn.

“Alright, look,” Elizabeth took her glasses off and set them on the table, her demeanor relaxing for a moment. “I’m going to level with you. I don’t know that we get out of this without some kind of offer.”

I clenched my teeth, staring intently at her.

“I’ve spoken to the insurance, and they’ve assured that if we can get the sexual harassment piece dropped, they will cover this. But if we can’t? This would be out of pocket.”

“To who?” Jolly asked. “To Sumerian?”

Elizabeth shrugged, eyes softening. “It would be joint liability between Sumerian, and Bad Omens, which means all of you may be liable.”

My mouth fell open. “It’ll bankrupt us! We’re successful, but not two million dollars successful!”

“Okay, let’s just take a step back.” Richard placed his palm on the table. “We’re not there yet. For now, let’s just decide if we intend to counter sue, or attempt to settle.” He raised an eyebrow at us. “Either we fight, or we fold. Ultimately it’s up to the insurance, but if they don’t cover it, you guys need to be all in.”

“We’ll give you all a few minutes to discuss it.” Elizabeth stated before she stood from the table with Richard, them both making way toward the door.

Once they left, we all turned toward each other, eyes on Alec.

“What do we do?” Nick asked, Alec looking stressed.

“My gut tells me to take a stand. Who knows what kind of message we’re sending this girl if we just offer to settle?”

I shrugged. “Dude, what is this going to do to our reputations?”

Jolly voiced his opinion. “Well, if it goes our way, it could show a lot of integrity on our end. Not allowing someone to take advantage?”

“Fuck man, I don’t know about you guys, but I ain’t got a million fucking dollars to pay this chick.” Folio was rubbing his face.

“None of us do. But do we really want to let her win?” Nick shrugged.

“Okay, but does that mean we go as far as counter suing her?” I asked.

“I think we should. Emotional distress? Defamation?” Jolly’s voice was concerned.

Folio chuckled. “Realistically, Noah could sue for sexual harassment.”

I eyed him in disbelief. “You think?”

“Fuck yeah, man.” Nick piped up. “She threw herself at you, told people she was going to fuck you, made passes at you. Followed you to your hotel room in the middle of the night? Sounds like harassment to me.”

My chest rose and fell, trying to maintain a sense of calm. “Okay. So let’s do it.”

“That means the insurance won’t back us. It’s a big gamble. Are you sure?” Alec looked directly at me.

“Will Sumerian support us?”

With a sincere grin, Alec clapped my shoulder. “One hundred percent. You guys are family.”

Jolly snorted. “We’ve made the label a lot of money, is what he means.”

Alec pointed at Jolly. “That too.”

This made us all start laughing, like a band of fucking hyenas.

At that moment, Elizabeth and Richard re-entered the room.

“Sounds like we’ve made a decision?” Richard stood with his hands in the pockets of his perfectly ironed slacks.

I pushed my chest out, giving everyone at the table one last look for assurance.

“We’re all in.”

-

The next month was a whirlwind. The album release was on hold until the lawsuit was dealt with, which was entirely up in the air. Rachel’s lawyers were surprised at our decision to file a counter to their suit, and we received the official denial from the insurance company.

Sumerian hired separate lawyers for each of us upon Elizabeth’s request, to forego any conflicts of interest. I got to stick with Elizabeth specifically, as we filed as separate plaintiffs for the sexual harassment suit. It was all so official, so litigate, that I barely understood any of it.

I had several different meetings with Elizabeth, who insisted I refer to her as Liz, in preparation for my deposition. She told me essentially what I could and couldn’t say, and what would build our case better.

She had me email her the texts threads between Rachel and I, and had gone over each event in disgusting detail so many times. Down to the color of Rachel’s fucking panties. It was grotesque, but I had hoped it was a means to an end. I was exhausted by it all.

Aside from that, I had barely spoken to Mileena since Knott’s, not feeling the same level of affection I did previously. Something about her attitude toward our situation, and the fact that she had reacted the way she did, sat heavy on my heart, keeping the feelings of want and missing her at a good distance, being replaced with resentment and frustration.

When I saw her each week to exchange Addison and Angel, I kept our contact brief, most times not even letting her in. I knew she was hurt by it, now clearly over our argument, but I didn’t feel bad. In fact, I felt satisfied. Some part of me, a sick, enraged part, wanted her to hurt. Maybe then she’d feel how I had been over the last four and a half fucking months.

I was paying a price for all of this that I didn’t fucking deserve, and after a lot of careful consideration, I finally recognized that. Maybe it wasn’t her who deserved better. Maybe it was me.

Most times when she called, I let it go to voicemail. Most texts were left unanswered. I spoke to her as much as I had to, and not a breath more.

Today, she was due to drop Addison off, but she was late. That was becoming more and more of a trend. Had I not been such a tolerant human, I may be annoyed with her. But given all of my other circumstances, I elected not to be, and just enjoy the small bits of extra time I had to be alone.

When my doorbell chimed, I jogged down the stairs, shirtless, having been folding laundry upstairs.

I answered the door and was surprised to find Laura on the other side, Addison standing at her side and holding her hand.

As always, I greeted my daughter first, then Angel, bringing them in, and then swung the door open to let Laura inside, but she politely declined.

“Sorry, I can’t stay. I need to get home.”

I just raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

She shrugged, an impatient look behind her smile. “Do you care?”

This struck me, making me double take before responding. “What?”

“Noah, you’ve avoided her for weeks. And then you don’t even ask why she’s not here? Do you care if everything is okay?”

I smiled, now annoyed but trying not to show it. “Uhm, I wasn’t asking about Leena specifically, but alright.”

She huffed. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a rough day.”

“You’re good. Just making sure you guys are alright.”

Laura nodded. “I am. Just tired. Leena’s…” She sighed. “She’s dealing.”

“With?”

“Everything? Her and Justin broke up, which wasn’t pretty. You’re not talking to her. She didn’t get the job she wanted. And the lawsuit.”

I raised a hand to stop her. “The lawsuit? That has nothing to do with her.”

She raised her brows, eyes popping open. “No one told you?”

I just shook my head.

“Leena was subpoenaed by Rachel’s lawyer to give a statement. We both were.”

I deadpanned, my brain not processing the information.

“What?!”

“Yeah. We don’t know why, but we can’t get out of it, apparently.”

My hand clenched the doorknob, threatening to break it off. “What the fuck do they want your statements for?”

She shook her head. “No clue.”

I groaned. “Let me call my lawyer. I’ll see what I can find out.”

Laura smiled. “Thanks. I know she’ll appreciate that.”

My jaw clicked. “Not doing it for her.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “Noah, she’s really struggling. I caught her trying to buy vodka.”

“Oh,” I crossed my arms over my chest, glancing back in the house to see Addison sat in front of the TV, toys in hand. “so she’s about where I was four months ago? Sounds about right.”

Her eyes narrowed at me. “You have no empathy for her? She’s supposed to be your soulmate, isn’t she?”

I laughed at that. What a joke. “Yeah, I fucking thought so. But instead she toyed with my emotions so she could fuck me whenever she felt like it.” I leaned back on the doorframe, crossing one leg over the other. “So pardon me if I don’t feel bad. Her being butthurt over her and her boyfriend breaking up sounds like a her problem.”

Laura was staring at me, clearly taken back by my attitude. “You’ve changed, Noah.”

Nodding, I smiled with no joy. “You’re right. I have. It happens when someone is pushed to their breaking point.”

She began to take a step back toward her car. “She loves you.”

Considering this, I resolved to just stating what I considered the obvious. “She doesn’t love me, Laura. She loves the idea. She loves that I love her. That she can do whatever she wants, and I would be here waiting. Too bad that’s over.”

And with that, I shut the door.

I waited an hour until Addison was settled down for her nap before I dialed Elizabeth.

She answered on the second ring. “Hey Noah, how you doing?”

“I’m alright, I just needed to ask you something.”

“What up?”

“Did you know Mileena Richards and Laura Perry were subpoenaed to be deposed?”

The line went silent for a few beats.

“By who?”

“Rachel’s attorney.”

I could hear her breathe on the other end. “Why? Do you know?”

“No. I saw Laura today and she told me. They don’t know why either.”

“Mm,” I could hear a pen clicking on the other end. “Isn’t Mileena your daughter’s mother?”

“She is.”

“And you two aren’t together, correct?”

“Right.”

She sighed. “I’ll call the other attorney. Realistically, this could work out for us.”

I furrowed my brow. “How is that?”

“Well, what's the likelihood that the mother of your child is going to badmouth you?”

I chewed my thumbnail. “Erm,”

I hesitated, and I could hear her voice become apprehensive.

“What?”

“We’re not exactly on good terms.”

“How bad?”

“I mean, it could be worse, I guess? We’re not exactly speaking?”

“Well,” She had a light laugh in her words. “who does she hate more? You, or Rachel?”

I snorted. “Valid point.”

“Exactly. I wouldn’t worry. But probably best you smooth things over a little bit with her.”

Groaning, I sat back on the couch. “It’s complicated.”

“So un-complicate it. Be nice.” She chuckled. “I get that’s hard for you.” I rolled my eyes.

“I can try.”

“Just don’t discuss the case.”

I affirmed, and ended the call.

Staring at my screen, I pulled up our text thread, eyes scanning over the ignored texts from the last few weeks. They came less frequently as time had gone on.

Leena: Noah, we should talk about this.

The night of the fight.

Leena: So, we’re not talking now? Can you answer the phone?

Leena: I don’t want to fight, Noah. I just want to talk.

The next day.

Leena: Well, for what it’s worth, I broke up with Justin. Hope you’re happy.

Three days later.

Leena: Could use a friend. Can I call you, please?

Two weeks later.

Leena: I’ll drop Addie off about 11 today. I’ve got to get her bathed first.

Three weeks.

Leena: I miss you.

Yesterday.

I sighed hard, nearly regretting my decision, but typing the message anyway.

Me: Got a few?

The message was read, but the typing bubble didn’t pop up for four minutes.

Leena: For?

Rolling my eyes, I fired back a message.

Me: To talk.

Leena: Is Addie okay?

Me: Napping.

Leena: So what’s there to talk about?

Frustrated, I set my phone down. She wasn’t going to make this easy.

Me: Just…talk?

Leena: We haven’t talked in weeks. You haven’t wanted to.

Me: Now I do.

The message was read, but no type bubble appeared. I sat, staring at the screen, surprised when I saw her name flashing, a call coming through.

I swiped it open.

“Hey.” I kept my voice calm, trying to sound casual.

“What’s up?” Her voice sounded so tired, despondent. A pang of guilt hit me, but I swallowed it.

“How are you?”

She was quiet, which made me fidget in anticipation.

“You want to know how I am? Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

A hard sigh came through the receiver, and I stood up, needing to pace to keep my nerves in place.

“You’re kidding, right?” She should sound annoyed, exasperated. Instead, she sounded depressed.

“Nope.”

“Noah, what’s going on? What do you want to talk about?”

I stopped pacing, scrubbing a hand over my face and hair. “I just…” Lying to her was harder than I remember. “Laura mentioned you were going through it.”

“So?”

“I wanted to check in.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I do still care about you.”

A weak, tired laugh came through. “Sure you do.” I didn’t respond, not knowing what to even say. “This has nothing to do with the lawsuit, right?”

I sat back down on the couch, leaning my elbows on my knees.

“No. We’re not even supposed to talk about it.”

She scoffed. “So it is about the lawsuit. You talked to your lawyer, and she’s afraid I’m going to shit talk you?”

Was she fucking psychic?

“It’s not about that, Leena.”

“So what’s it about then?” There was a little more fire now, and it made my own spark ever so slightly.

“It’s about wanting to know if you’re okay.”

“Define ‘okay’.” The seriousness in her tone was unmistakable.

“Well, why don’t you tell me how you are, and I’ll tell you if that’s okay?”

This made her laugh, a dark, angry sound. “Let’s see. I’m breathing. I’ve eaten some in the last couple days. I showered today, I guess that’s good. How’s that?”

Sarcasm dripping from her words, I cringed.

“Sounds okay, I suppose.”

“So glad you think so.”

“Leena,” I closed my eyes, trying not to give in to the argument building inside of me. “can you blame me for distancing myself?”

She didn’t answer, so I continued.

“You got so mad at me, and I kept being made out to be this villain. The fucking bad guy. Every time. I can only take so much.”

Still no answer, so I checked the phone to make sure the call was still connected. I heard a breath on the other end, but I kept talking.

“The way you feel now? That’s how I felt for months. Just sitting. Waiting. Hurting. Maybe it’s fair that you feel it for a little while, too.”

Her voice was strained. “You don’t think I was hurting?”

Biting my lip, I answered carefully. “Didn’t seem like it.”

“Noah, breaking up with you was so painful, I thought it may fucking kill me.”

“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”

The sound that came through was something like a gasp.

“Did you call me just to mock me? Tell me I deserve this?”

“No.”

“So why did you call?”

“I don’t know.” I let my head fall forward. “Just wanted to.”

“Yeah? Well maybe you should just leave me to fucking wallow, then.”

“Mileena, Jesus fucking Christ, stop!” I finally snapped.

Going silent again, I took my chance.

“Despite the fact that I’m angry at you, and am not entirely sure what I want anymore from you, I still fucking care! I still love you.”

“Do you?”

Letting my breath go, I squeezed the phone. “Yes. Don’t ever fucking doubt that.”

There was a moment, a fleeting second, where I felt the pain. Where her hurt was pouring out. It came out as a choked sob.

“Noah?” Her voice was thick with tears.

“Hmm?” Was all I could muster.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I pushed back my own tears, not willing to let them fall.

“For what I did to you. I shouldn’t have done it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Done what?”

“Left you.” Her voice was cracked clean in half, now becoming hysterical. “I fucked up. I fucked everything up and now I’ve lost you. I should have just fought harder. Talked to you. I never should’ve done any of this.”

It was too much. It was too hard, threatening to rip my heartstrings right out and worm its way back in past my walls.

“I’ve got to go.”

She stopped her words short, hearing me.

“Oh.” She sniffled. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

“I’ll call you later.”

I hung up the phone, tossing it onto the couch. Letting my face fall into my hands, I allowed myself only a moment of weakness, where I cried, with no restraint, alone in my living room.

-

The room we sat in was so fucking cold. Who manages the fucking temperatures in these legal buildings?! It was at least sixty degrees, making a chill run up my spine, beneath my black blazer. Liz sat next to me, typing on her cell.

“How long is it supposed to be?”

She didn’t look up at me to respond. “Should be anytime now. I know they can’t start without us.”

“Leena’s late.”

She sighed. “They can wait. They want her statement? They can wait for her.”

I nodded, hearing the doors to the lobby open, and seeing two bodies walk in.

I hadn’t seen Mileena in two weeks since we spoke on the phone. Laura had done all hand-offs since then. We hadn’t spoken, and I nearly regretted it.

I’m not sure what I expected. Leena to walk in, hair a mess? Makeup running? Wearing sweats?

Instead, she tapped in her favorite black short heels, pencil skirt that hugged her hips, white button-up blouse tucked in, top button undone. Her black hair was pin-straight, lips painted a deep crimson, and black eyeliner sharpening around her brown irises, she looked…unbelievable.

I should be bummed, but instead, I was delighted. I could be angry with her, and still appreciate how stunning she was.

Her and Laura approached Liz and I, stopping in front of us. My lawyer and I stood, her taking their hands one at a time and shaking them. “Nice to meet you both. I’m Elizabeth Jones, Mr. Sebastian’s attorney.”

Mileena smiled at her, but I noticed her eyes remained cold, not looking at me.

“Good to meet you. Are they ready?”

Before Liz could respond, the door opened, a young woman beckoning us in the room.

We all sat around a long table, Rachel at one end, and I at the other. The tension in the room was so gelatinous, it could be cut with a plastic spork. My stomach made an uncomfortable turn when Rachel’s lawyer took Laura’s statement first, Liz objecting to, what felt like, random questions, and told her very brief knowledge of the events.

“Do we need a recess before we proceed with Ms. Richards?”

All eyes turned to Mileena, who had sat still as a statue the entire time, three seats away from me.

She shook her head. “I’m good if you are. I’d like to be done. I have my daughter with a sitter.”

Rachel’s audacity was showing as she rolled her eyes to Mileena’s statement. I bit down hard on my tongue.

“Alright, Ms. Richards. Let’s get started.” The tall, skinny man who represented Rachel walked Mileena through her oath, and began asking questions right away.

“How long have you known Ms. Hollis?”

“Since about September 2023, when Noah was on tour.”

“And what was your relationship with Ms. Hollis?”

“Friendly. We were acquaintances. She worked for the band, who I spend a lot of time with, so we saw each other often.”

“Had you and Mr. Sebastian ever discussed Ms. Hollis, or her employment, prior to the incidents in question?”

“Objection, hearsay.” Liz eyed the lawyer.

“Mr. Sebastian is here to corroborate, is he not?” His attitude was sharp.

“He’s not testifying right now, is he?”

The lawyer rolled his eyes, moving on to the next question.

“Had you ever had any indication that Mr. Sebastian and Ms. Hollis were involved, prior to the incident?”

“No.”

It was firm, and something in me smiled.

“So, he was a good liar?”

“Objection, argumentative. Come on, Drew.” Liz lectured the attorney.

He held up a hand.

“Okay. Let me move on.” He narrowed his eyes. “When were you first made aware of the night of the incident in Manhattan?”

Mileena kept her poker face even. “In San Diego.”

“That would’ve been May 26th, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And did Mr. Sebastian make you aware of that event?”

“Clarify?” She was so calm. With no preparation, even.

“Did he tell you he was with Ms. Hollis that night?”

“Objection.” Liz smirked. “Hearsay.”

Her and Mileena exchanged glances. She was baiting the attorney, and Liz knew it.

I was so turned on.

“How did you come to find out about the night in question?”

“I knew Noah was going to the club. I encouraged him to.”

“Were you aware Ms. Hollis would be there?”

“I assumed. She was a member of their staff.”

“And you had no problem with it?”

“No. As I mentioned, I had no reason to have a problem with it. Noah wasn’t interested.”

“You were sure of that?”

“Yes.”

My chest swelled with pride, but I hid my smile.

“Can you please, in your own words, walk me through the events in San Diego?”

“Which parts? The entire day?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I woke up. I usually pee first thing, but that day, I may have brushed my teeth first. It was about 7:30-“

“Ms. Richards, I’m asking about the events including Ms. Hollis and Mr. Sebastian.”

“Oh. You said the entire day.”

Liz and I both turned our heads, hiding our laughs. Rachel narrowed her eyes.

“Ms. Perry and I arrived at the hotel in San Diego about noon. We met with the group and greeted them. I hugged Ms. Hollis, even. Then. Mr. Sebastian and I went up to his room, where we engaged in about forty-five minutes of rigorous sex.”

I bit down on my fingers, stifling my laughter. Rachel glared at me.

“He then left for the venue to do sound check. I went to the venue for the concert at about 4:30PM with Laura, didn’t see Ms. Hollis at all. Then, after the show, Noah and I went back to his hotel room.”

She paused, her eyes glazing over slightly.

“And?” The attorney edged on.

“I took a shower, and Noah left to get snacks from the lobby. When I got out of the shower, I heard screaming from the hallway. I checked the peephole and saw Noah and Ms. Hollis engaged in some form of argument.”

“And what did that entail?”

“I can’t tell you that verbatim.” She sighed. “All I know is Ms. Hollis was upset with Noah, and I heard her claim that she had feelings for him. She left, and he came back in the room.”

“I see.” He was taking notes on his notepad. “And then you and Mr. Sebastian argued?”

Leena’s face fell, her eyes turning on the attorney, shooting daggers.

“With all due respect, Mr. Riley, but that’s not pertinent to this case.”

He pursed his lips. “No? You didn’t leave that night due to the argument between Mr. Sebastian and Ms. Hollis?”

I watched her intently, seeing the wave of emotions wash over her face. Sadness, pain, anger, and, eventually, exhaustion. She closed her eyes for a moment, but shot him, and then Rachel a warning glance.

“That, sir, is none of yours,” Her index finger pointed down the table to Rachel. “or her business.”

Mileena took a breath, and then stood from the table.

“Now, that is all I witnessed. I have nothing else to add.”

“We’re not done, Ms. Richards.” He motioned to Liz. “She still gets to cross-examine.”

Liz had a triumphant smile on her face, leaned back in her office chair.

“I’m good. I’ve got all I need.”

Mileena just nodded curtly, hooking her bag on her shoulder.

“I guess, then, thank you for your time Ms. Richards.” Mr. Riley stood from the table, an uneasy expression on his face, and held his hand out for Mileena. She shook it uncomfortably.

"I think that's all for the day, gentlemen." Liz stood with the rest of the group, gathering her notes. "Mr. Sebastian and Ms. Hollis' depositions are set for the 2nd of September. Are we still on board?"

Rachel's attorney stole a glance toward his client and his co-counsel, faces stern, before looking back at Liz. "I believe so, but we'll reach out if anything changes."

Liz bid them goodbye, and I noticed Mileena had already made her exit.

I slipped out of the room, noticing her and Laura already halfway out of the door to the building. I jogged after them, opening the door and the sun nearly blinding me.

"Wait up!" I called after them before they climbed into Laura's Altima.

Leena turned around, exchanging a look with Laura, who sat down into the driver's seat, and closed the door.

I was only about ten feet away, and Leena stepped forward, closing the gap until we were face to face.

"What's up?" I could still see the hurt on her features, and I felt all of my insides turn to marshmallow fluff, nearly bursting from my chest.

"That was," I took a long breath. "incredible."

Her lips upturned slightly as she tucked a stray piece of hair out of her face behind her ear.

"It was the truth."

"It was hilarious. You made that jackass earn his paycheck today."

She gave me a full smile now. "Thanks, Noah."

"Listen, I'm sorry I didn't call you back."

She shook her head, waving me off. "No, I get it. You need space, I respect that."

My eyes searched her face, but she was looking at her shoes, kicking at the asphalt. "I want to talk. Maybe we can make some time?"

Mileena peered up at me, and opened her mouth to speak, but we were interrupted.

"Hey!"

Both of our heads snapped to the right, seeing the red-blonde hair and bright green blouse stalking toward us, a look of fury on her face.

"What the fuck was that?!" Her question was targeted at me, which made me straighten and my face harden.

"What do you mean?"

She held her hand up, motioning between Leena and I. "You practiced that, right? Her testimony? That's acting in fucking concert. We can get her entire statement thrown out."

I scoffed, turning toward her. "You fucking asked for it, Rachel. Now you're mad it didn't go your way? Shocking."

I had my body in front of Mileena, shielding her.

"She can't fucking protect you, Noah. I don't know why she fucking would anyway." She smirked at us. "You two aren't even together anymore, I've heard."

I felt my throat tighten, the horrific things I wanted to say balling up in my windpipe.

Something was going to spill out, but before it could, Leena took a step in front of me, the scariest, most threatening smile painted on her face.

"Rachel?" The other woman glared at her, eyes full of fire. "We haven't had a chance to talk since all of this happened."

Rachel crossed her arms, looking amused. "No, we haven't."

"In fact, we haven't talked since before I knew how much of a psychotic bitch you were, so I should probably make a few things clear."

The redhead looked like she may explode, her face turning an unhealthy shade of maroon.

Leena's voice was crisp, each word falling off of her tongue so vividly clear.

"You don't know much about me, but you may already know that, like Noah, I'm a recovering alcoholic."

Rachel snorted. "So?"

"So, you clearly aren't aware of what I'm capable of."

"Capable of what? Drinking me under the table?" Rachel chuckled at her own joke, and I clenched my jaw.

But Mileena laughed with her, a sickening sweet sound.

"No, no, probably not anymore." She took a fraction of a step closer, and I imagined Rachel could feel her cool breath on her face. "But, I do, however have a bit of experience I bet you don't have."

Quirking an eyebrow, Rachel put all of her weight on one hip. "Like?"

"Like, I've been in bar fights, jail fights, hell, I even socked a girl in rehab once." She let her smile fall, her eyes becoming a new shade of black. "And that was over some drinks and a pack of smokes. Imagine what I would do to someone who threatens my family."

Mileena then stepped nose to nose with Rachel, who now had her eyes blown wide.

"Whether you like it or not, babydoll, that guy is my family. Together or not, he's mine. So, I sincerely recommend that you head back inside, and leave him alone." Leena stepped back, replacing her smile. "Before I knock your teeth down your fucking throat."

I could see the bravado fading on Rachel, but she was still stood, trying to remain confident.

"Is that a threat?"

Mileena turned back toward me, moving to walk to the car. She threw a glance over her shoulder.

"It's a guarantee."

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

CHAPTER 3: HOLLY, JOLLY

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

a/n: We love a heart to heart between friends. Virginity is such a controversial and nuanced topic and I wanted to dive into Nancy losing her virginity and not feeling the sparks and butterflies or like a new person. Having sex does not make you a slut.

Warnings: Violence.

Word Count: 2189

Masterlist

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

CHERRY OAK AND CORNWALLIS 

“Nancy, what’s going on?” I ask for the fourth time. We are walking down the street towards the Motel 6 on the side of the road. 

“We need to go back to Steve’s house.” Nancy finally answers. 

I frown, shrugging off Nancy’s hold. “No.”  

“Diana,” I shake my head not wanting to hear anything Nancy has to say. There was no reason to go to Steve’s house and I’m not going. 

“I’m not going.” I say turning back towards Hawkins High. 

“Diana, please!” Nancy shouts, pulling my arm again. 

“Wha—” 

“I think something happened to Barb!” she exclaims, tears brimming her eyes. I flinch as if she flicked me on the forehead. Nancy looks around and says more quietly. “I think something happened to Barb, and the last place we both saw her was at Steve’s house.” Nancy bites her lip to keep from crying. “I need you to come with me, Diana. Help me find Barb.” 

“I called Mrs. Holland after lunch today and she said she hasn’t heard from Barb either.” She continues.

“Barb was supposed to be sleeping over at your house, remember?” 

Nancy stands rigid, squeezing her eyes shut. She does this when she’s overwhelmed. After a brief second, Nancy opens her eyes, visibly relaxing but not enough. “I-I know,” she agrees. “I had to lie to Mrs. Holland.” 

“If Barb isn’t at school and she isn’t at home—” 

“She must be at Steve’s…” Nancy interjects, her expression strained and tight. “Somewhere.” 

I frown shaking my head. “That doesn’t make any sense—” 

“I know it doesn’t!” she shouts in panic. “But we have to check. It’s the last place we both saw her.” 

I don’t say anything for a moment, trying to make sense of everything. Barb wouldn’t just disappear like that. Sure, she was upset with Nancy, we both were. But nothing a small conversation couldn’t fix. If something did happen to Barb, I can’t leave Nancy to find her on her own. It’s too dangerous. I puff out my cheeks blowing a breath that is strong enough to shift my bangs. The stubborn part of me wants to be mad at Nancy for putting us through this in the first place, but whatever happened in the past doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is finding Barb and I pray we do. 

“Okay. Okay.” I respond. “But before we go to Steve’s we need to find Barb’s car. She wouldn’t leave without it.” 

KERLEY AND MIRKWOOD

I think something happened to Barb. It’s enough to snap me out of whatever resentment I have been feeling towards Nancy…towards Barb. It’s been about half an hour since Nancy’s small outburst and we have been walking in silence since. I try not to panic but with each step, it gets worse and worse. The last time I saw Barb, I hugged her goodbye and told her to put a bandage on her finger to stop the bleeding. I remember the hug feeling like a…farewell. The thought sends a shiver down my spine. No. No. Barb is fine. She has to be. 

“Diana!” Nancy says, holding my arm. She points ahead of her at a car parked on the side of the road. Barb’s car. 

“Oh my god,” I gasp. We both rush to the car peering through the window.

It looks the same as when we left it last night. Nancy’s sweater is still on the passenger seat. Which means…Nancy and I exchange anxious glances. 

“Barb?” Nancy shouts, looking around. 

“Barb!” I shout right after. 

Barb hasn’t been to her car since. 

Neither Nancy nor I speak to one another as we walk to Steve’s house. I am consumed in paranoia at the thought of where Barbara could be. This morning, I assumed she was sick because we were outside for a long time in the cold and the way her finger was bleeding when I left, maybe she went to the hospital to get stitches. But when Nancy called it seemed as though Mrs. Holland hadn’t heard from her and it was unlike Barb to not call her parents. The feeling of dread formed then, but I pushed it down to be with Eddie and Ronnie. Then the mix up with Jonathan happened with Steve in the parking lot—

“Diana?” Nancy asks, touching my arm. “Are you okay?” 

I move my arm away. “No, I’m not okay!” I exclaim. “We can’t find Barb! None of this would’ve happened if she just left with me.” 

Nancy is quiet, blue eyes waiting for me to lash out. I sigh shaking my head, clenching my jaw. Walking back to Steve’s house felt like walking back to the scene of the crime. The scene of my emotional turmoil. It isn’t fair. Now with Barb’s car being abandoned in the same spot we left it last night. I can’t anymore. 

“Nancy, what happened last night?”

“What do you mean?”   

“By the pool.” Nancy cocks her head. “The way you were treating me and Barb…you weren’t you.”

“I was me. I was just having fun.”

“At the expense of Barb and I. You weren’t being a good friend to us, Nance. You forced Barb to drink, embarrassed me in front of everyone. We told you multiple times we don’t want to go to Steve’s house, but because you are our best friend, we stayed to support you and the way you treated us…” 

“It wasn’t my intention to embarrass you guys.” 

I’m sure she seen how uncomfortable you looked. Eddie’s voice said in my mind. I shake my head. “You didn’t see our discomfort because you were too drunk to notice and you pushed Barb and I away. Now she’s missing!” I can’t stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth. “Since when do you know how to shot gun beer? Do you even like beer?” 

“I just wanted to make sure you were having as much fun as possible considering you and Barb didn’t want to be there.” Nancy answers. 

“I felt like you didn’t want us there and when you told us to leave, it solidified that feeling. When Barb decided to stay, I had to walk home in the middle of the night!” I exclaim. “I just…These past few days have been so scary with Will missing and now Barb, I can’t!” 

“We’re going to find Barb!” Nancy shouts, holding my shoulders. “We are going to find Barb.” She repeats. “We are going to find her.” I think she’s trying to convince herself more than me. Nancy lets go of me, running her hands through her hair. She wrings her hands out, pacing back and forth. “I feel like I’ve been messing everything up these past few days. I just feel like…I don’t know.” 

I stare at Nancy, giving her a moment to compose herself. For as long as I’ve known Nancy, she has never been…fidgety or uncomfortable. I’m the fidgety one who is often uncomfortable in situations where I have to talk to people I don’t know. It makes me wonder what happened when she went up to Steve’s room. I touch her arm willing her to stand still. 

“What’s wrong?” I genuinely want to know. “Did you walk home from Steve’s house too?” 

“Yes! I got home at like 12am and then my mom started yelling at me and I was just so overwhelmed and we got into an argument.” 

“About?” 

“Well, the time I got home for one and then, I forgot I was wearing Steve’s hoodie and that became a whole thing.” We stroll down the hill. Nancy doesn’t speak for a long while and I give her the space to form her thoughts. “She asked if Steve and I were dating. And I don’t know why, but I felt…angry. Because why does it have to be labelled? I’m just having fun. What’s wrong with having fun with a boy?” 

I don’t have to ask what “it” was, to know what “it” she’s referring to. “There’s nothing wrong with having fun with a boy. Just be mindful of how you treat your friends.” 

“I’m so sorry, Diana. I swear it wasn’t my intention.” 

“I believe you. I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to be involved. I just feel so out of place sometimes.” 

“Me too. I didn’t get much sleep last night. I kept tossing and turning, thinking about…what happens now.” 

“What do you mean?” I know what she means, but I want her to say it. 

“I mean there’s so much talk about it being a life changing thing…but I feel everything and nothing. I don’t feel any different than I did before. I don’t feel attached either.” Nancy shrugs her shoulders. “When I was walking down the halls this morning, I felt like everyone was staring at me like they knew what I did. Steve came to my locker and he was really sweet. He didn’t tell anyone and I trust him. Then I realized. It’s okay. It was my choice. I feel happy and safe and I’m glad I shared that moment with him.” 

I smile feeling at ease with how Nancy’s night went with Steve. I would hate to have to find my brother’s wrist-rocket to use on him. I nudge her softly and she nudges me back. 

“It’s what I told you in the car. I won’t look at you any differently. I’m glad you enjoyed your time with him and it was on your terms.”

Nancy’s eyebrows rise along with her smile. “Me too.” 

I link my arms between hers. This is the Nancy I know. I sigh deeply debating on if I should tell her or not. I decide I might as well. “I’ll admit, Steve’s not as bad as I thought he was.” I ignore Nancy’s surprised stare. “I can tell he really likes you, Nancy.” Her cheeks turn pink. 

“Shut up.” 

“It’s true! I see the way he looks at you.”

“How does he look at me?” 

Like he’s in love. I shrug my shoulders. That’s for Nancy to figure out on her own. “I don’t know…like he really likes you. I can’t explain it.” 

Nancy seems satisfied with my answer or she’s too embarrassed to push. Either way, I’m glad things are back how it used to be at least for now. When the breeze blew past, the heaviness in my stomach crept back up my chest. I look at the empty spot beside me. The spot for Barb. Hoping we’ll find her soon. 

HARRINGTON RESIDENCE

We approach Steve’s house. It looks much bigger and intimidating in the daytime. I follow Nancy to the side of the house where there is a wooden door leading to the backyard. Nancy reaches for the handle and my eyes widen. 

“Nancy!” I hiss, pulling her back. “We can’t just walk around Steve’s backyard without permission! It’s trespassing.” 

“We have to. It’s the last time either of us saw Barb.”  

“Nancy, we can be arrested if someone catches us.” 

“If you don’t want to come, then stay here and keep watch. I’ll look around and see if I find anything.”

I shift from side to side watching Nancy carefully open the door. I hold it open for her as she looks around before stepping through. My body is vibrating with anxiety as I keep look out. Nancy peruses the concrete edge of the pool.  

“Barb?” Nancy calls out. 

There’s nothing but silence for a moment until I hear rustling in the trees. I whip my head to the side, searching through the underbrush for the source of the sound. My stomach flips when Nancy walks toward the same place I thought I heard the sound. Is she out of her mind?

“Nancy!” I whisper out loud, letting go of the door. It creaks shut behind me. “Nancy!” She can’t hear me. Worry gnaws at me; I can’t leave her to walk inside the woods by herself. 

I scurry after her, grabbing her arm. She jumps, looking back at me with wide eyes. Nancy relaxes for a moment; thankful I am with her. I swallow thickly, keeping close as we walk deeper into the woods. Remnants of my dream comes back to me. I can almost feel the branches scratching my cheeks and ripping my hair out of its ponytail. My screams for help. A sense of deep uneasiness holds me rigid. What if something happened to Barb and she was screaming, but Nancy and I can’t hear her? 

“Barb?” Nancy calls out. 

The same rustling sound happens again. Nancy and I gasp snapping our heads to the left. I draw a sharp breath, blinking back tears. Nancy and I share nervous glances. 

“Barb?” Nancy calls again. 

From the corner of my eye, I see something whip past us a few yards down. It’s huge and—I scream letting go of Nancy. I don’t see her fall until I trip over her legs falling on top of her. We are a tangle of limbs scrambling up to our feet. Nancy grabs my hand and we both take off sprinting out of Steve’s backyard. 

NEXT -> PART V

[fandoms-in-law]

Ted Wheeler Knows Parenting

Summary: When Ted and Holly run into Steve and his father in Melvalds Ted has a few things to say about the other's parenting style. It ends up with Steve becoming a Wheeler and a lot of changes in that household.

Authors Notes: I've been working on this for a while, but between my days of recovery fic last month and some bad news I got this morning, I just want to post it, leave it where it is and focus on other stories that interest me. I'm going to make it a small series as while most of what I've written is post season 2 there's some bits for season 3 and 4 written too which I'm adding as oneshots.

I'm only posting this first bit here. If you want to read the rest of the series it'll be on AO3 here

/\/\

According to Nancy, nobody's dad's asked as much as he did about school, so Ted accepted that she wanted him to stop.

Mike asserted it was weird that his dad spoke about his hobbies with so much pride so he reduced that amount within his kids hearing.

Then there was Holly just wanting someone to play dolls with and thrilled he'd keep playing when her friends were around because she said he kept the games fun.

He wasn't and wouldn't claim to be the perfect father but hearing Mike's friends claim he was absent in all but body was hurtful. This was how his eldest and middle child asked him to be, and he would be there for his kids friends too, as much as they let him or realised given their own father situations.

Then there was Steve Harrington. Ted didn't know how to react so acted how Karen's dad had, tried to look after Nancy. Even he was able to see Steve would be lost when he was faced with Karen mothering him, as if it was a foreign concept to him.

That reaction made a lot more sense considering the scene Ted and Holly were witnessing now, just outside the supermarket.

"Think about the mud you're putting our name through, Steven. Your mother has been asked multiple times if she should be looking after you at home and can't argue her cases without allusions being made. I thought you knew better than to cause this trouble." Richard was lecturing, gesturing over Steve's body as if to highlight flaws he wasn't stating.

Whatever Mr Harrington was continuing to say Ted ignored, leaning down to Holly who had also noticed Steve and was already looking for permission to go and say hi. For a while she never thought about it but after a few outings with Karen when others weren't so happy to be interrupted he'd made sure to explain to her to check with them if her friends looked busy. Steve however looked like Holly would be a welcome escape from his father so Ted gestured over, encouraging.

"Steve!" She called, excited and hurrying over.

Ted watched as his face lit up and his focus was set on Holly now, as well as the anger that darkened his father's face.

"Holly Jolly, Mr Wheeler, How are you? You been having an adventure?" Steve asked, focusing on the kid as Ted had known he would. Every time he was around it was the easiest way to get him away from Nancy for a bit to suggest Holly asks to play. That'd been how he'd given the 'don't hurt my daughter' talk months back.

"Dad's getting me sweets but sssshhhhh, Mum said I can't have them so we have to hide them when we're home." Holly explained, ignoring Richard clearing his throat since he was a stranger. "Are you getting sweets too?"

"My father says I can't. You're so lucky with yours, Holly Jolly. I've got to get bread and cheese and that's all I'm allowed." Steve's words were joking for Holly but there was something genuine under them that had Ted wondering just what restrictions the boy was facing aside from being criticised and yelled at in public.

He stepped forward, also ignoring Richard for the moment. "I'm sure we can share ours. It's been a while since you came over and I'm sure Karen would love to have you for dinner."

"That'd be-"

"Unacceptable." Richard Harrington interrupts. "Who are you to undermine my sons life?"

Ted looked at the man in judgement. He'd lived in Hawkins for all his life and everyone knew the Harrington's by name and school memories. This was one of the first times he'd encountered the man since school however and what he saw was lacking, both in appearance and impression from Steve's reactions. "Theodore Wheeler. Unlike you I actually know that inviting someone to dinner doesn't undermine them at all. You standing criticising him in front of Melvalds does however, undermines whatever good reputation the Harrington's have thanks entirely to Steve. I see he raised himself rather than you doing any actual work parenting."

Richard scoffed at that, "Good reputation? You call getting into fights good for our name?"

"My son was one of the kids he was protecting as you would know if you were ever home or paid any attention to the newspapers of Hawkins." Ted countered immediately. "Something I can see you'd never do. How about we go and greet Mrs Byers, ask if there are any remaining papers that include that report as well as the invitations for the esteemed Harrington's to make a comment. I doubt the reporters meant yelling in front of a supermarket about their son failing to what? Avoid getting bruises?"

"You have no right to judge me when you're leaving your child in irresponsible hands." Richard snarled, never noticing Steve's step away and attempting to distract Holly.

"Looks pretty responsible to me even if Steve hasn't more than proven himself to me and multiple families including the Chief of Police if I'm not mistaken." Ted replied coolly, turning to lead the way into the store, subtly gesturing for Steve to head down the candy aisle. This wasn't the argument for kids to have or listen to no matter how grown Steve acted.

Almost twenty minutes later, and after the discovery Joyce Byers wasn't working that shift, Ted went to find his kids, ears ringing with some of the words Richard used about his son and reeling with the knowledge that legally or not, for the moment, he had 4 kids.

Steve was watching the end of the aisle with anxious eyes, but had Holly happily holding a couple of toys and talking about a game she was playing. "Sorry for whatever my father said, Mr Wheeler. I hope he's not hurt you." he immediately began, giving the impression that if he wasn't still looking after Holly he'd have already been hurrying off.

"Don't apologise and since you're living with us now you can just call me Ted." He waved the apologies off, bending to his daughter. "Would you like that, Hols? Like Steve to be your big brother as well as Mike?"

"Living with-" Steve cut himself off from asking with a shake of his head. "Can you explain that to me more later?"

Ted nodded, "On the way home I will. Let's get the rest of this list and head off."

[princesssarisa]

Types of songs in "A Christmas Carol" musical adaptations

When a story has been adapted into so many musicals, it's easy to notice patterns in the songs that usually feature. These are the song types from all the musical adaptations of A Christmas Carol I know.

In chronological order, the musicals are: the 1954 Bernard Hermann operetta for CBS TV, the 1956 NBC TV musical The Stingiest Man in Town (later remade in animation by Rankin/Bass in 1978), Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol, the 1970 film Scrooge, The Muppet Christmas Carol, the 1997 Nickelodeon animated film, Alan Menken's A Christmas Carol: The Musical, and 2022's animated Scrooge: A Christmas Carol.

*Fourth wall-breaking chorus invites the audience to celebrate Christmas/hear the story ("Holly-Ho," "Sing a Christmas Carol," or "Tell Me a Tale About Christmas")

*Londoners sing happily about celebrating Christmas Eve (e.g. "On This Darkest Day of Winter," "Santa Claus," "Jolly Good Time")

**Subtype: Happy Christmas Eve solo for Fred, with chorus (e.g. "An Old-Fashioned Christmas," or "I Love Christmas")

*Bitter and greedy Scrooge song (e.g. "Ringle, Ringle," "I Hate People," "Nothing to Do with Me," or "Tell Me")

*Londoners sing about Scrooge's meanness (e.g. "The Stingiest Man in Town," "Father Christmas," or "Scrooge")

*Happy Christmas Eve song for Bob Cratchit, sometimes with Tiny Tim too (e.g. "Christmas Children," "One More Sleep Till Christmas," or "You Mean More to Me Than Anything")

*Jacob Marley lament/warning song (e.g. "I Wear a Chain," "Marley and Marley," or "Link By Link")

*Lonely solo for Scrooge as a child (e.g. "Alone in the World," "When Shadows Fall," or "A Place Called Home")

*Festive Fezziwig party song (e.g. "December the Twenty-Fifth," "Mr. Fezziwig's Annual Christmas Ball")

*Happy love song for Belle and Young Scrooge – either a duet or a solo for Belle (e.g. "What Shall I Get My Lad for Christmas?" "Golden Dreams," "Happiness," or "A Place Called Home")

*Sad breakup song for Belle and Young Scrooge – either a Belle solo, a Scrooge solo, or a duet (e.g. "It Might Have Been," "Winter Was Warm," "You," "When Love is Gone," "Cross This Bridge," or "Later Never Comes")

*Ghost of Christmas Present song (e.g. "A Very Merry Christmas," "The Song of the Christmas Spirit," "I Like Life," "It Feels Like Christmas," or "Abundance and Charity")

**Subtype: Londoners sing of celebrating Christmas Day, joined by the Ghost of Christmas Present (e.g. again, "It Feels Like Christmas," or "Christmas Together")

*Heartwarming Christmas song for the Cratchits and/or Tiny Tim (e.g. "And Bless Us Every One," "Yes, There Is A Santa Claus," "The Lord's Bright Blessing," "The Beautiful Day," or "Bless Us All")

*Ensemble for people in the Future disrespecting Scrooge in death (e.g. "Thank You Very Much," or "Dancing On Your Grave")

*Scrooge sings of his resolve to be a better man (e.g. "Mankind Shall Be My Business," "I'll Begin Again," "A Thankful Heart," "Yesterday, Tomorrow, and Today/God Bless Us Everyone")

*Happy reprises of earlier songs in the final scene (virtually every version does this)

Songs where I can only think of one example each

*Duet for Scrooge and Fred of contrasting world views ("Humbug" from The Stingiest Man in Town)

*Ghost of Christmas Past song ("The Lights of Long Ago" from the Alan Menken musical)

*Tender song for Scrooge's mother in the past ("God Bless Us Every One" from the Alan Menken musical – one of the only versions of the story where Scrooge's mother even appears)

*Tender song for Scrooge's sister Fan ("Christmas Wishes" from Scrooge: A Christmas Carol)

*Duet for Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Present about Tiny Tim ("One Little Boy" from The Stingiest Man in Town)

*Festive song for Fred and his party guests ("Santa's Sooty Suit" from the 1997 animated film)

*Solo for Fred about the birth of Jesus ("Birthday Party of the King" from The Stingiest Man in Town)

*Reprise by Scrooge of his lonely childhood song at his own grave in the Future ("Alone in the World (Reprise)" from Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol)

[pichupie]

so as part of that big fun christmas stream, I had to write some Chat picked fanfics in under 5 minutes!! Here are these wonderful stories!!

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JOHN CENA X HOMER SIMPSON! 

The snow was starting to pile up, John ( John Cena that is ) was warm by his fire but his soul, was yearning for more. He felt so empty after his break up with Homer Simpson but he knew that at the end of the day, if they were really meant to be, Homer would finally accept the Christmas spirit of things and get in that holly jolly mood gosh darn it! 

John sighed as his sipped his hot coco, if only he could see that sexy hunk of man just one more time, its his only christmas wish!! 

John sighed again, it was late. He finished his hot coco and decided to go to sleep for the night, in his now empty bed, just like his heart. 

As he drifted off to sleep he thought he had heard something almost like the familiar sound of reindeer hooves. 

“It’s probably nothing” he said as he turned to the side that once belonged to his lover. 

Later during the night he heard a loud nut.

Cena jumped out of the bed, 

“ WHOS NUTTING IN MY HOUSE?!” He said as he rushed down the stairs, down to the fireplace where his christmas socks hung!! 

However it wasn’t his socks that were there!! 

It was!!! HOMER!!?!? “H-Hommie?! What are you??” John said as he felt his heart sting

“ Dwaaww, John I can’t stay mad at you, The holidays are all about coming together, and I can think of another thing thats in need of coming as well! “ Homer said with a sly smile on his face. 

John blushed, Homer was standing at his fireplace dressed as a giant Christmas sock! 

“ You know” Homer continued “ Socks are great for warming up in the cold weather!” He flirted, and winked! 

John smiled at him and approached, welcoming him back in a loving hug and a passionate kiss. 

It’s looking to be a white christmas after all.

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

ZIM & GIR!!!

“GIR!!!” Zim shouted at his robot companion. 

“ It’s that strange season again! When the earth monkeys put all of their lights outside their home and bring trees inside of them!! The time of year when that damned FAT man breaks into homes and gives gifts. But I wont forget last year, no, he came in here to I THE GREAT ZIM!!! 

And left nothing but empty disappointment!! Not again!! This time, Gir, WE KILL THIS STANTY CLAWS!!!” 

“ Hot dog :D “ Gir replied gleefully at his overlord! 

“COOOMPUTER!! Show me the fastest way to the north pole!! No human will make a mockery of I ZIM!!! Ever again!! And then I, ZIM!! Will have all of the treats, and I’ll make sure all the humans are on this so called “naughty” list!! And I’ll make extra sure DIBBB!!! Stays on the ULTRA AWFUL STINKY NAUGHTY LIST!! ForEEEVVVVEEEERRRRRR!!!!!!!!” 

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

PICHU & BUNNY!! (@pb-romance)

It was December 24th the clock had just struck midnight, it was go time! Bunny and Pichu were on a mission and that mission? Steal the sacred Naughty and Nice list. Santa had it on high security after last years failed mission! But this year, these two were ready and determined to get exactly what they wished for this year! And they’ll be damned if Mr. Santa Clause tries to stop them! It was easy for them to get past all the elves working on the toys, all such kid lil guys, they just wanna talk about Christmas. They’re really nice like I love the toy elves man, but fuck that one that wanted to be a dentist! Like for real, dude its cool that you have a passion and you should pursue it but like, you made your whole personality that, oh shit I was so distracted that I forgot to narrate the rest of the story, The girls are already at the Naughty and nice list !! holy shit!! Look!! Plot Bunny is grabbing it!! Omg ! SHES TAKING A RED PEN!! Shes made an edit!! To the list!!! Omg omg!! Omg the edit was— oop ran out of time haha uwu

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

GRINCH X MIRROR GRINCH

“MAX NO ONE IN THE WORLD IS AS DISGUSTINGLY AMAZING AS MYSELF WHATEVER WILL I DO!! “ The grinch exclaimed dramatically as he laid upon his lazy boy seat. Max looked up at his owner, sad that he would have to spend another christmas without the warm embrace of another grinch! No one to rub his stinky feet or play with his Yak like hair! Max whimpered as he went to fetch the Grinch a christmas present! 

“Hmm? Whats this you have here?” The Grinch grabbed the wrapped gift from Max’s mouth!

As he unwrapped this sussy pressie, his eyes were met with the most beautiful vomit yellow eyes he ever saw!! Breath taking rancite green skin and fur! He could almost smell him!! 

“ My my!~ now what do we have here?” The Grinch said all horny like! 

“ Why, your the most stunning creature I have ever had the displeasure of laying my eyes on!~” He continued as he played with his own hair. 

“ you really are quite the looker, hows about a smooch big boy~” he said has he leaned in to plant his lips on the cold hard glass. His tongue slid around the reflective material, leaving spit trails behind.

“ If he couldn’t love anyone” Max thought to himself happily, “ Then im happy he can at least love himself”

THE END!

[zibiscusloon]

{-_All I Really Want_-}

(Set during A Very Devil Christmas)

“NICHOLAS!” The Devil roared, throwing the holly-jolly lune’s door open, cracking the poor wall behind. Henchman tried to tug his boss away by the tail, he honestly thought they’d left their North Pole troubles behind- until Devil had caught a glance of the Naught List, and a certain name had caught his fury.

The old man sighed, he thought he had an idea of what this was about. “Lucifer of this is about the train-“ but he was quickly cut off by a pitchfork pointing directly at his throat, as he stumbled back on his desk.

“No it is not about the choo-choo!” Although the Devil made a mental note to add it to the reasons to fry the old man. “You dropped this on our way out!” He screamed, shoving the crinkled list that seemed to be crumbling from his grip at old Nick.

Santa looked to see his Naughty List. Ok, he was genuinely confused, he’d managed, against his own better judgement might he add, to move literal Satan onto the Nice List. He sees no reason for the Devil to still be hung up over his lists. Until the Devil pointed a sharped claw at one name in particular.

“Do you know this girl? Nwseouth Sinphony. Or! As I- her father would call her- Newsie!” The Devil’s fire flared up, Henchmen quickly pulled his hands away, lest he get burned.

“Boss please-“ he pled

“No!!” Great. Boss seemed to be even more furious.

“As if it wasn’t insulting enough to put me on this damned list- Nicholas- you had the audacity to put my child on the Naughty list! Why? Why them?! That lil imp is kind to a fault! Cause believe me! I’ve tried to get them to be evil! And you know what? It doesn’t work!!” The Devil continued on his tangent.

“So give me one good reason why my little Newsie is on this list or I will rip out whatever phony excuse you have for a soul!!” The pitchfork flared with every shout. Henchman was certain they’d earned themselves a life’s ban from the North Pole..

Oh.

Oh.

That’s what this is about!

“She asked to be moved there.” He stated simply, his gently smile resting back on his rose red cheeks.

“…what?…” the Devil asked, dumbfounded. His pitchfork lowered.

“Yes! I believe..” Santa rustled around through his pocket. “This will explain it.” He handed a small note, covered in doodles of stars. (or pentagrams? Santa really couldn’t tell with demons..)

The Devil snatched the note with a huff.

“Dear Mr. St. Nicholas. (I’m sorry? Is that your full name? You have so many..)

My name is Newsie Sinphony. I am the daughter of the Devil. That’s probably not a note you’ve ever gotten before right? I honestly don’t know where I fall on your lists as a demon, I mean I’ve gotten gifts for years, so I guess you consider me good?

I couldn’t think of anything to ask for this year, I’m bad at gift ideas.. but I finally though of one! I want to be on the Naughty List! Now I know that’s weird- but please hear me out- like I said, the Devil is my dad, and as such, I feel a need to be.. I dunno.. a lil.. evil..?

But I don’t know how.. I wanna impress my dad, I mean- I’m the heir to Hell! Please, could you help me out? Just a bit of coal? It would make my dad so happy to know I can be a bit of a.. y’know, Devil? (Pleas laugh I thought up that one for five minutes..)

-Sincerely, Newsie Sinphony”

“….”

“Boss?” Henchmen tugged at his fur lightly.

“B-Boss are you crying?”

Santa smirked as the Devil huffed at Henchman, his eyes puffy with tears.

“NO I’M NOT SHUT UP!!-“ he yelled as he gripped the note close to the spot he thinks his heart would be, storming out of the office.

—

“Aw, that’s so sweet Mister Clause.. that’s all lil Newsie wanted.. thank you for helping her..” Henchman could feel tears building up in his own eyes.

“Well.. that.. and-“ Santa handed Henchman a piece of paper he had ripped from the note, he simply didn’t want Devil to see.

“P.S- pleas give my boyfriend Cuphead a toy train. He’s really not confident that he’ll end up on the Nice List so I’m asking you to at least give him a little something. He means the world to me. Thank you!”

Henchman chuckled. He could get why the boss shouldn’t see this.

[tgon]

Ghosts of Fear Street, Fright Christmas | Review

Title: Ghosts of Fear Street #15 – Fright Christmas Author: Stephen Roos (as by R.L. Stine) Cover Artist: John Youssi

INTRODUCTION

The cover artwork got my hopes up. Never before has Silent Night looked so loud loud loud! Unfortunately the plot is less interesting. The ghostwriter must have organized a White Elephant Plot Exchange, because the entire story is lifted from A Christmas Carol. It’s safe to assume R.L. Stine forgot this book exists, too, because he penned his own adaptation of the Dickens classic in 2017 entitled Young Scrooge.

I was fully prepared to skip this book. Bah humbug. But last night I was visited by The Ghost Of Christmas Past. The spectre said unto me, “Fright Christmas had an audiobook adaptation in 1997 starring Kieran Culkin. This wasn’t the most successful Christmas project for the Culkins, but skipping it could be seen as an insult. If they have the power to put a star in Hollywood Boulevard for Macaulay, think about how easily they could put you in the ground!”

Well, I’ve had a sudden change of heart. Let’s give this book a chance! One last toast to has-been ghosts, the review will be soon.

STORY REVIEW

Kenny Frobisher is less of a “peace on earth” guy and more of a “piece of work” guy. When his sister visits Santa in the mall, Kenny spoils the occasion by calling it all fake. He even rips Mall Santa’s beard off! Maybe Kenny is banking on the resale value of coal. Anyways, Kenny wisely dips out after the beard stunt sparks a child riot. He sneaks into a secret control room, pushing past a big sign that says DANGER! KEEP OUT! So maybe Kenny is also banking on the resale value of Darwin Awards.

Kenny decides to flip some random switches, which was quality entertainment in a pre-internet America. This great plan backfires when Kenny locks himself in. Kenny fears that the ghostwriter is copying another story from the 1840s ⁠— until the door mysteriously creaks open. He emerges to discover an abandoned mall. He must have stayed past closing time. Or maybe he timetraveled to the early 2020s.

Santa rises from the shadows, but this fella ain’t holly-jolly. He looks ticked. Truly chilling. If that doesn’t scare you, have you considered SANTA is an anagram for SATAN? Truly chilling. Kenny yanks down on Santa’s beard, but this one doesn’t detach. Uh oh. Santa reprimands Kenny for his naughtiness and warns that the boy will be visited by three spirits. Kenny flees to Dalby’s Department Store, which is a cute bit of continuity, as this store is an important location in the main Fear Street series. Kenny decides it’s a super good time to nap on one of the luxury beds. Yes he’s trapped in a mall and haunted by ghosts, but it’s 8:59 (PM!!) and he’s sleepy, dagnabbit.

Kenny wakes up to the revving of a motorcycle. He meets an intimidating biker named Night Watchman. The guy claims he’s been watching Kenny all the time, but I guess “All Hours Watchman” doesn’t sound cool. This dude shows Kenny a flashback, a day when Kenny bullied some kid named “Tiny Timmy” in front of the whole school. Of course, Kenny enjoys revisiting this memory. To keep his grip on the situation, Night Watchman simply rams Kenny with his bike. Truly an underrated rhetorical strategy.

Eyes snapping open, Kenny finds himself back in the department store. The bed has been torn to shreds. He meets a wintery ghost named Ice Man. This fixes a huge problem in the original Dickens story: the total lack of wrestler-style character names. Ice Man whisks Kenny away to show him how the Frobishers are handling Christmas Eve without their son. Kenny’s sister seems pretty upset, but Mr. Frobisher offers helpful advice such as

“These things happen, honey.”

Think that sounds cold? Turns out, the family is only sad because their dog is lost. They haven’t even noticed Kenny is gone. I guess if you live on Fear Street, you develop an Oregon Trail mindset. Sometimes we have two kids, sometimes we have one kid, oh well what can you do.

Kenny is woken once more, this time by techno lights and crazy music, and he finds himself in an open grave. After all, you can’t spell GRAVE without RAVE. There’s also an unknown figure skulking around above him. Kenny pleas for help, but the figure turns out to be a hooded ghost. The spooky dude points a skeleton-finger at Kenny, and a hoard of ghost kids descend on our protagonist. Oh my God, they killed Kenny!

Back in the mall again, an electrician shakes Kenny awake. The boy fell asleep in the control room. Feeling a sudden change of heart, he buys a gift for his sister. When Kenny gets home, the family dog has indeed gone missing, just like in his dream. Luckily, Tiny Timmy happened to catch the dog and returns it, upgrading him to Regular Timmy. But then Timmy reveals a spooky skeleton-finger, signifying that he was the mysterious ghost from Kenny’s dream. I made a visual aid to convey the terror.

THE VERDICT

If you’d like to create your own adaptation of A Christmas Carol, it might be beneficial to follow this simple set of rules: Don’t.

So concludes our third Biennial Holiday Special. Maybe by 2025, Elon Musk will buy this blog for billions of dollars and replace me with an AI. If you don’t want me replaced by a robot (or maybe you chuckled while reading this entry), feel free to leave a like or drop a message.

BEST QUOTE

“Sorry, Kenny,” Dad said softly. “We were reading A Christmas Carol. I know how you hate it.” “Not anymore, Dad,” I said, […] “I love it! It’s one of my favorite stories now!”

Why? At what point was that experience anything other than traumatizing?

[writingramblesandrandomness]

Chapter 1.3 Holly Jolly

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"We just tell our parents we have AV Club after school. That'll give us at least a few hours for Operation Mirkwood."

"You seriously think that the weirdo knows where Will is?" Lucas was gathered around the table with Dustin and Mike. You were sitting next to El on the couch as she played with Mike's super-comm.

"Just trust me on this, okay?"

"Okay."

"Did you get the supplies?"

"Yeah." Lucas put his backpack on the table. Binoculars... from 'Nam. Army knife... also from 'Nam. Hammer, camouflage bandana...and the wrist rocket."

You giggled as El leaned into you, as she continued to play with the super-comm. Dustin raised an eyebrow at Lucas. "You're gonna take out the Demogorgon with a slingshot?"

"First of all, it's a wrist rocket and second of all, the Demogorgon's not real. It's made up. But if there is something out there, I'm gonna shoot it in the eye and blind it."

"Well, I say that we definitely can't rule out the Demogorgon existing. I mean, El has powers."

Mike nodded at you, giving you a small smile. "Dustin, what did you get?"

"Well, alrighty. So, we've got...Nutty Bars, Bazooka, Pez, Smarties, Pringles, Nilla Wafers, apple, banana, and trail mix." You let out a laugh at Mike and Lucas's expression, wrapping an arm around El as your laughter brought a smile to her face.

"Seriously?"

"We need energy for our travels. For stamina. And besides, why do we even need weapons anyway? We have her." Dustin gestured to El.

"She shut one door!"

"With her mind! Are you kidding me? That's insane! Imagine all the other cool stuff she could do. Like..." Dustin picked up the toy Millenium Falcon and held it out towards El. You stifled a giggle. "I bet... that she could make this fly! Hey, hey. Okay, concentrate, Okay?" Dustin dropped the toy and it fell to the ground. You giggled. El looked at you and smiled again. Dustin picked up the Millenium Falcon again. "Okay, one more time. Okay? Use your powers." He dropped it again. You laughed again.

"Idiot."

"She's not a dog." Mike turned to you. "What did you bring?"

You reached for the other backpack you brought, but Mrs. Wheeler called down first. "Y/n and boys! Time for school!"

You got up from the couch. El's hand reached for yours and she grabbed it, looking up at you. You turned back to her. "I'll be back, I promise." Mike joined you at your side.

"Just stay down here. Don't make any noise, and don't leave. If you get hungry, eat Dustin's snacks, okay?"

"Michael!"

"Coming." He yelled at his mom before turning back to El. "You know those power lines?"

"Power lines?"

You squeezed her hands. "The ones that are behind Mike's house."

"Yes."

"Meet us there, after school."

"After school."

"Yeah, 3:15." El looked confused. You gave Mike a look. "Ah." He took his watch off and handed it to El. She looked at it confusedly before you put it on her wrist. "When the numbers read three-one-five, meet us there."

"Three-one-five."

You squeezed El's hand again. "Yep, three-one-five. That's when we'll see you again. Ok?"

She held tightly to your hand before letting go. "Ok." You smiled at her before following Mike up the stairs.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You and the boys were looking for rocks for Lucas's wrist rocket. Mike picked one up. "How about this one?"

"Too big for the sling?"

"So, do you think Eleven was born with her powers, like the X-Men, or do you think she acquired them, like... like Green Lantern?"

"Wait, that's a good question, how did she get them?" You started to think about Dustin's question.

"She's not a superhero. She's a weirdo."

"Why does that matter? The X-men are weirdos."

"Yeah," You agreed with Mike. "And so are we."

"Of course you two agree, why don't you just get married already?" You narrowed your eyes at Lucas.

"Nope, definitely not." You looked gratefully at Dustin before he continued. "Haven't you seen Y/n and Will? Those two are definitely made for each other. Now, Mike and El." Lucas and Dustin looked at each other while nodding.

"Just shut up, you two." You groaned, face burning.

"What are you talking about?" You gave Mike a 'seriously?' look as Lucas voiced your thoughts.

"Mike, seriously?"

"What?"

"Well first off, you and Y/n are pretty close, but she and Will are closer; so that's out." You glared at Dustin and he gulped. Lucas continued.

"Anyway, you look at El all, like 'Hi El! El! El! El! I love you so much! Would you marry me?"

Mike had an unreadable look on his face. "Shut up, Lucas."

"Yeah, shut up, Lucas." It was Troy, you stiffened as he approached with James. "What are you losers doing back here?"

"Probably looking for their missing friend." James laughed.

"That's not funny. It's serious, he's in danger." Dustin tried to stand up to them.

"I hate to break it to you, Toothless, but he's not in danger. He's dead. That's what my dad says. He said he was probably killed by some other queer." Troy and James laughed.

"Hey, at least show some respect." They both turned to look at you. "Whether or not you like Will, at least-" Troy stepped forward and you tried to step back, but he grabbed your arm.

"I think that you should shut up. You don't tell me what to do, understand." You glared at him and he tightened his grip. "Understand?" You nodded in pain and he let go. You rubbed your arm as you glared at Troy.

"Come on, just ignore them." You reluctantly listened to Mike and stepped back. Mike started to walk away; but Troy tripped him, making him fall and hit his chin. Troy and James laughed.

"Watch where you're going, Frogface." They laughed and walked away. You flipped them off as you went to help Mike up.

"You all right?"

Mike sighed. "Yeah."

Dustin picked up a rock. "Hey, how about this one?"

Mike chuckled. "Yeah."

You helped him stand up as Lucas took the rock from Dustin. "Yeah, this is the monster killer!" Mike laughed as you all cheered.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You left your last class and you went to get your bike and saw Jonathan by his car. You ran up to him. "Jonathan!" He turned at your voice and gave you a small smile as you barreled into him for a hug. The Byers had always been like family to you.

"Y/n!" He hugged you for a bit before you pulled back. "Hey, how are you holding up with Will's disappearance?"

You shrugged. "Not too well, but the rest of the party has been helping me. We've been helping each other."

Jonathan ruffled your hair. "Stay strong, kiddo, and stay safe." You gave him a small smile and he returned it. You fiddled with your bracelet again.

"Hey, man." You turned to see Steve and his friends walking up with Nancy.

Jonathan pushed you behind him. "What's going on?"

Steve tilted his head towards a girl. "Nicole here was, uh, telling us about your work." You eyed Steve and he seemed to finally notice you. His eyes narrowed as the girl, Carol you assumed, continued the conversation.

"We've heard great things."

"Yeah, sounds cool." The other boy smirked.

"And we'd just love to take a look. You know, as... connoisseurs of art." Steve still had his eye on you and the way Jonathan stood in front of you protectively.

Jonathan sighed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, no? Oh..." Steve grabbed Jonathan's bag.

"Hey." Jonathan reached for it, but Steve held it out of his reach.

"Steve, give it back!" You tried to get the bag as well but Steve shoved you aside.

"Stay out of this, Y/n." He turned back to Jonathan. "So, you're corrupting my sister as well?"

Jonathan looked at you. "Y/n/n, go. I'll be fine." You glared at Steve before leaving. "Please, give me my bag."

You walked back to the middle school and grabbed your bike. You wheeled it over to where the rest of the party was.

"Hey, where were you?" Dustin tried to get your attention as you all got on your bikes and started biking to Mike's.

"Trying to stop my brother from being an asshole. Looks like it's terminal." That made the boys laugh and you chuckled along with them, worry for Jonathan in the back of your mind.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"El!" Mike called out as you all neared to see El crouching down. You jumped off your bike before it had fully stopped and pushed it to the ground as you hurried to El's side.

"Hey, El." She gasped and grabbed your hand. You squeezed it. "Are you ok?" She nodded as the boys pulled up.

"Hop on. We only have a few hours." Mike gestured to the seat behind him. You helped El onto the bike and then you got onto your own.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You had been walking for a long time before you started to recognize the forest. You couldn't place it until you all came to the Byers's house.

"Here." El stopped you all.

"Yeah, this is where Will lives."

"Hiding."

You turned to El and placed a hand on her shoulder. "No, this is where he lives. He's missing from here. Understand?"

"What are we doing here?" Lucas came up.

Mike sighed. "She said he's hiding here."

"Um... no!"

Dustin groaned. "I swear, if we walked all the way out here for nothing-"

"That's exactly what we did." Lucas interrupted. "I told you she didn't know what the hell she was talking about!"

Mike turned to El who was looking scared. "Why did you bring us here?"

El tried to stammer out an answer, but nothing came out. She grabbed your hand and looked to you for help. "Didn't she flip the board around?"

"Will you two stop wasting your time with her?" Lucas yelled, making El's grip on your hand tighten.

"What do you want to do then?" Mike yelled right back at Lucas.

"Call the cops, like we should have done yesterday."

"We are not calling the cops!" Mike argued.

"Hey, guys?" You turned to Dustin and saw what he was pointing to, flashing lights. You gasped as the sirens grew closer and Dustin finally got Mike and Lucas' attention.

You ignored the guys and let go of El's hand after you squeezed it. You got onto your bike and heard the boys following suit.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You hid behind a truck with the boys. The police sirens made your stomach drop as you saw the police pull out a body.

It was Will.

Your vision blurred as you stumbled backwards, hand to your mouth as your stomach turned. Ignoring the rest of the party, you grabbed your bike and peddled away furiously. It couldn't be true, there was no way that it was true. Will had to be alive, he had to be. There was no way that he was dead.

You could barely see the road you were biking down as tears streamed down your face.

[realhousewives-fan]

Not a Holly Jolly Christmas Party

The women downplayed how Brynn Whitfield was flirting with Erin Lichy’s husband.

Jessel Taank said that she was in no way trying to steal Erin’s husband, and Jenna Lyons said that Brynn flirts while ordering steak.

It’s understandable that flirting is just in Brynn’s nature.

She’s a happy-go-lucky girl who got bored at a boring party. She just wanted to have some fun.

While she meant no harm, she must understand that not everybody will take jokes about divorce as lightly as she does.

And Erin and Abe Lichy clearly didn’t appreciate the joke.

After Erin stormed out of Brynn’s Christmas workshop, she called her sister to vent.

The way they were speaking about Brynn was not nice. They were calling her a bitch and ridiculed her for wearing shades as if she was a celebrity.

It seemed like Erin’s father was glaring at Jenna for grabbing Erin’s ass, and Erin’s sister was upset with the women during the endless speeches.

Brynn got mad when Erin accused her of flirting with her husband, because she was not seriously flirting with him.

Brynn reminds me of a merged version between Brandi Glanville and Carrie Bradshaw. Overly flirtatious, and she’s got her Mr. Big.

I could say that Brynn has a good guy wrapped around her finger with Gideon, but if it’s not right for her, it’s not right.

The good are never easy and the easy never good, as Marina said in her song “Homewrecker”.

Jenna had also told the women about her breakup, and while she appears to be doing okay, her vulnerability becomes clear when someone address it directly.

She keeps on dropping interesting details about herself though.

We’re seven episodes in and we’ve now learned that her real name was Judith! Jessel’s reaction to the name is probably why Jenna changed it.

While growing up her brother had called her Jenna-Jenna-talia!

The women were having fun at the workshop, but Erin wanted to ruin Brynn’s day.

I’m starting to agree with Jessel. Erin has had an issue with everybody so far, and maybe the women isn’t the problem.

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 4/5

Book Blurb:

An actress and a perpetually single former boy-band member are reunited as costars on a steamy holiday film in this all new spicy rom-com by Julie Murphy and Sierra Simone, bestselling coauthors of A Merry Little Meet Cute.

Kallum Lieberman is the funny one™. As the arguably lesser of the three former members of the boy band INK, he enjoyed his fifteen minutes of fame and then moved home where he opened a regional pizza chain called Slice, Slice, Baby! He’s living his best dad bod life, hooking up with bridesmaids at all his friends’ weddings. But after an old one-off sex tape is leaked and quickly goes viral, Kallum decides he’s ready to step into the spotlight again, starring in a sexy Santa biopic for the Hope Channel. 

Winnie Baker did everything right. She married her childhood sweetheart, avoided the downfalls of adolescent stardom, and transitioned into a stable adult acting career. Hell, she even waited until marriage to have sex. But after her perfect life falls apart, Winnie is ready to redefine herself—and what better way than a steamier-than-a-steaming-hot-mug-of-cider Christmas movie?

With decade old Hollywood history between them, Winnie and Kallum are both feeling hesitant about their new situation as costars…especially Winnie who can’t seem to fake on screen pleasure she’s never experienced in real life. She’s willing to do the pleasure research—for science and artistic authenticity, of course. And there’s no better research partner than her bridesmaid sex tape hall of fame costar, Kallum. But suddenly, Kallum’s teenage crush on Winnie is bubbling to the surface and Winnie might be catching feelings herself. 

They say opposites attract, but is this holly jolly ever after really ready for its close-up?

Review:

An actress used to scandal has to restart her career and a former boy band member are reunited years after a scandalous night that left them both in the media and years later they are about to work together on a spicy Christmas romcom! Kallum Lieberman used to be a boy band member but then his sex tape got leaked and now he owns a pizza chain and is also known as the guy that bridesmaids sleep with before they find the one. Kallum wants nothing more than to find The One, but no matter how many bridesmaids he sleeps with he is always going to. be the guy before The One. When his old sex tape gets leaked and goes viral and he is offered the role of sexy Santa for the Hope Chanel he can't say no. Winnie Baker was the good girl, she did everything right from marrying her childhood sweetheart to being the girl in all the home movies. Yet after one disastrous photo of her get wasted is leaked (by none other than Kallum) her image fell, and then her husband cheated on her, and now Winnie has to find a way to pay back the Hope Channel for her lost role in the movie. Yet Winnie is offered the role of Mrs. Claus and it would help get her back in the media and help her tell her side of the story that her ex-husband had created and bashed her. The only problem with staring in this sexy movie is that Winnie herself has never orgasmed or felt true pleasure.... but thankfully there is Kallum there to help her. Kallum's little secret is that Winnie Baker was his teenage crush, the one person whom he absolutely adored and watched all of her movies. Yet what started as just lessons soon blooms into something more but can these two make it work or will it be a complete flop? This was a pretty fun spicy Christmas rom com. Winnie is dealing with a lot, from dealing with religious guilt. to trying to live her new life and just trying to learn to open herself up again. Kallum had a lot of growing up to do in this movie but one thing is for sure, he was in love with Winnie for a long time and it was cute. Overall definitely add this to your Christmas tbr!

*Thanks Netgalley and Avon and Harper Voyager, Avon for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[wagner-fell]

I posted 3,790 times in 2022

That's 3,099 more posts than 2021!

448 posts created (12%)

3,342 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sandersgrey

@the-wckd-powers

@hahahax30

@thechangeling

@noah-herondale-lightwood

I tagged 722 of my posts in 2022

#ck’s ask - 107 posts

#ck💙 - 106 posts

#riley! - 80 posts

#riley’s ask - 80 posts

#ly’s ask - 45 posts

#ly! - 42 posts

#zia!!! - 25 posts

#zia’s ask - 24 posts

#heart of stone - 19 posts

#hos - 19 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#you were like ‘i have jamon for lunch :)’ and me thinking jamon was the word for regular ham said ‘oh yeah me too!!’ and you were like ‘no

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

wagnerthedragon>>>wagner-fell

moots rb?

@styxdrawings @hahahax30 @littlx-songbxrd @thepictureofsdr @writeordie-4 @life-through-the-eyes-of @lifewouldbebetteronmars @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @melanielocke @noah-herondale-lightwood @sirens-and-elves @jesse-is-spiralling @thechangeling @the-blackdale @have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas

23 notes - Posted February 6, 2022

#4

One of my favorite things about DA is that Anna always calls her husband Mr. Bates

26 notes - Posted February 17, 2022

#3

Sapphics/WLWs 🤝 Horror Fans

Mike Flanagan Shows

46 notes - Posted February 6, 2022

#2

As much as I love Kit and Dru THEY HAVE A FUCKING TRILOGY COMING

GIVE US TLH CONTENT PLEASE CC

47 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

My friend who just finished the show: so what do you think of Vegas??

Me internally: he’s such a poor little meow-meow he’s a whore in the most pathetic way he’s the human equivalent of a soaking wet car if that cat had a gun and daddy issues i want to medically inject him into my veins

Me out loud: oh he’s cool ig

53 notes - Posted August 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[spongebobanddaddypig]

S1E2 - A Very, Merry, Holly, Jolly Daddy Pig Christmas

[Establishing shot of the Krusty Krab. It is snowing outside and the restaurant has been decorated for Christmas. SpongeBob is on his lunch break and is eating with Patrick.]

Patrick: SpongeBob, do you think Santa’s a pedophile?

SpongeBob: Patrick what the fuck-

Patrick: No, no, hear me out. Listen, he spies on children, right? And he knows where they all live. And he breaks into all their houses every year and leaves them presents!

SpongeBob: Patrick I really don’t think-

Patrick: I’m just saying it seems kinda sus, don’t you think?

[Mr. Krabs walks over.]

Mr. Krabs: SpongeBob! Yer’ve got five moar minits until yer break’s up!

SpongeBob: Yes, Mr. Krabs, we’re just finishing up!

[Patrick looks over to someone walking in the restaurant.]

Patrick: Hey, isn’t that the big fat guy that’s been living at your place, SpongeBob?

[Daddy Pig walks over.]

Daddy Pig: Hello everyone!

Narrator: Daddy Pig has come to eat at The Krusty Krab.

Patrick: Hey, it’s the funny invisible guy that follows him around too!

Narrator: The SpongeBob characters aren’t used to have a narrator around saying the obvious every five seconds.

Mr. Krabs: SpongeBob, you didn’t tell me ye found yerself a boyfriend!

SpongeBob: (laughs) Oh, he’s not my boyfriend, Mr. Krabs, that’s Daddy Pig from the hit television series Peppa Pig! He’s living with me while he, uh… sorts some issues out.

Mr. Krabs: Well, it’s very nice to meet ya, Daddy Pig.

[Mr. Krabs and Daddy Pig shake hands.]

Daddy Pig: Well, it’s nice to meet you too I guess.

SpongeBob: Oh, Daddy Pig, that’s my boss Mr. Krabs. …hey, shouldn’t you be at work too?

Daddy Pig: Oh, I clogged the toilet so I called a sick day before anyone could find out it was me.

SpongeBob: Ew…

Daddy Pig: I don’t have this big tummy for nothing! (laughs)

Mr. Krabs: Say… you ‘’do’’ have a big tummy!

Daddy Pig: Well, it’s not ‘’that’’ big…

Patrick: It is ‘’quite’’ big.

Daddy Pig: My tummy is ‘’not’’ big!

[Mr. Bull walks by.]

Mr. Bull: No offence mate, but your tummy’s so big you could see it from out of space! (walks off laughing)

Narrator: Daddy Pig doesn’t like it when people make fun of his big tummy.

Daddy Pig: ‘’’’’I DON’T HAVE A BIG TUMMY!!!’’’’’

Mr. Krabs: Hey! Sorry Mr. Pig, I only brought it up because I just thought we could, you know… make some “business” out of it.

Daddy Pig: What do you mean?

Mr. Krabs: Well, I was just thinking, with that, um… small, regular sized tummy of yours you could be a valuable member of The Krusty Krab team.

Daddy Pig: Hm… I don’t know. I mean I work harder than Grandad Dog five days a week at the office.

Mr. Krabs: Oh no! We’d only need you on weekends. You see, Christmas is coming up and we’re still looking for someone to play Santa Claus. You know, for the kids.

Daddy Pig: Who’s Santa Claus?

Mr. Krabs: (laughs) Oh, that’s a good one, Mr. Pig!

Daddy Pig: No, I’m serious!

SpongeBob: Wait… you don’t know who Santa is?!

Patrick: You are missing out, dude.

Mr. Krabs: You know, he’s the big fat- I mean, slim guy who flies around the world on Christmas Eve bringing presents to everyone in the world!

Daddy Pig: ‘’OH!’’ You mean Father Christmas!

Patrick: Who the fuck is Father Christmas? Some kind of priest?!

Daddy Pig: You know, Mr. Krabs, I would ‘’love’’ to play Father Christmas!

Mr. Krabs: Great!

Daddy Pig: I mean, now that I’m not looking after my children I don’t have anything better to do and I could use the extra money! How much you paying per hour?

Mr. Krabs: Um… we’ll talk about that later. But now this is settled, I just need ya to come into me office and… ‘’sign a few contracts’’.

Daddy Pig: (gulp)

[Cut to The Krusty Krab on Saturday. There is a huge line stretching across town of people waiting to meet “Santa”.]

Scott the Woz: Hey all, Scott here… and I’m in the queue to meet Santa! No reason, just felt like it.

Miss Rabbit: Oh my God, I so can’t wait to meet Father Christmas! I’m such a big stan, you know?! We’ve all been making sure to stream Jingle Bells this year, right? Right?

[Cut to Mr. Krabs and SpongeBob waiting outside a toilet stall for Daddy Pig to finish changing.]

Daddy Pig: Um… I don’t think the costume quite fits, Mr. Krabs.

Mr. Krabs: Of course it fits! I bought the biggest size they had! Just hurry up already! Have you seen how big the line is? I’m gonna make a killing off of this!

SpongeBob: (worried) Mr. Krabs, are you really sure it’s a good idea to lie to everyone about Daddy Pig being the real Santa Claus? I mean… it’s kinda sorta fraud we’re doing here.

Mr. Krabs: Aw, don’t worry SpongeBob. I’m sure Santa doesn’t mind.

SpongeBob: …really?

Mr. Krabs: Of course! Why would he mind? He’s a busy man, he doesn’t have time for this sort of thing. Everyone knows that!

SpongeBob: (smiles) Oh, okay!

[Daddy walks out of the stall dressed as Santa.]

Daddy Pig: Okay, I think I’m ready now.

Narrator: Daddy Pig is dressed just like Father Christmas!

Mr. Krabs: Great! Now, what about you, Mr. Squidward? Are ‘’you’’ ready?

[Squidward walks out of the stall next to Daddy Pig’s dressed as an elf.]

Squidward: (frowning) Ho ho ho. Merry Christmas one and all.

Mr. Krabs: (gasps) Mr. Squidward! Do you not have ‘‘any’’ Christmas spirit?!

[Pause. Squidward sighs.]

Squidward: (pretending to be happy) Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!

[Pause.]

Mr. Krabs: Eh, the kids’ll buy it.

[Cut to the line of parents and children waiting outside the restaurant for Mr. Krabs to open the doors.]

Nat Peterson: Hey! What’s the hold up? We’ve been waiting in line for hours!

Peter Griffin: Yeah, gee Lois we’ve been waiting here longer than CrazySponge’s dick when he sees Roxa-

[Mr. Krabs kicks the doors open. In the background Daddy Pig (dressed as Santa) is seen moving over to sit on a Christmas-themed throne where Squidward’s boat should be.]

Mr. Krabs: Heh-heh. Sorry for the hold-up, folks! Santy Claus was stuck in a bit of a traffic jam coming all the way here from the North Pole!

Danny Dog: Hey doesn’t his magic reindeer pull him on his sleigh through the sky?

Mr. Krabs: His reindeer, um… died. But never mind that, it’s time to meet Santa Claus!

[Everyone cheers as they rush into the restaurant to meet Santa. There is a roped queue across the restaurant all the way to Santa’s throne. Cut to SpongeBob and Squidward at the back of the queue with Daddy Pig. Squidward is talking to the first customer.]

Squidward: Alright, so it’s twenty dollars to meet Santa, an extra fifty if you want to get the big man’s autograph, and an extra ten if you want to take a photo. For fifteen dollars we do do quote unquote “professional photos” with a camera Mr. Krabs bought from the dollar store… if you’re interested in that.

Mummy Pony: Um… I think we’ll just meet Santa.

Squidward: You’re really blowing the banks today, aren’t you?

[Mummy Pony pays Squidward and Pedro Pony, in a cowboy costume, runs over to Daddy Pig.]

Daddy Pig: Ho, ho, ho! I’m Father Christmas!

Pedro Pony: Bullshit

Daddy Pig: Eh, what?

Pedro Pony: I know you’re just some fat fucker in a costume.

Daddy Pig: I am ‘’’’’NOT’’’’’ a fat fucker!

Pedro Pony: Hey… aren’t you Peppa’s dad?

Daddy Pig: Er… I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m Father Christmas! Ho ho- (his fake beard falls off) oh shit.

Narrator: Oh dear. Daddy Pig has been outed as a fat liar.

Daddy Pig: ‘’’’’I AM NOT A FAT LIAR!!!’’’’’

[Daddy Pig puts his fake beard back on.]

Daddy Pig: I mean, merry Christmas everyone!

[Pause.]

Daddy Pig: (sighs) What would you like for Christmas, kid?

[Pedro sits on Daddy Pig’s lap.]

Pedro Pony: Well… “Father Christmas”, I would like an AK-47 to go with my cowboy costume! I already asked my mum, but she said it wasn’t very child friendly.

Daddy Pig: Um… well, I’m not sure about tha-

Pedro Pony: Do it or I’ll leak your nudes all over Twitter dot com!

Daddy Pig: Alright, alright! I’ll get you the AK-47!

Pedro Pony: (giggles) Thanks, Santa! You’re the best!

Mummy Pony: Smile for the camera now, Pedro!

[Daddy Pig and Pedro smile as Mummy Pony takes a photo with her phone.]

Squidward: That’ll be an extra ten dollars, ma’am.

[Mummy Pony groans as she hands over the money. Pedro Pony happily skips off with her.]

Squidward: Alright, who’s next?

[Cut to SpongeBob talking with Mr. Krabs.]

SpongeBob: Aw, it just warms my heart to see all the joy we’re bringing to the children of Bikini Bottom! …and Peppa Pig World, apparently.

Mr. Krabs: Well we are neighboring towns now. And you know, this warms my heart too, boy-o. And my wallet!

[Mr. Krabs starts laughing, SpongeBob half-confusingly joins in. Cut to Scott the Woz sitting on Daddy Pig’s lap.]

Scott the Woz: -and I’d like another copy of Flingsmash, one this isn’t wet this time, and one of those Chia Pet things, I broke all my other ones, and some more Madden 08, but please for the love of all that’s holy please don’t get me Madden 09 because I d-

Squidward: Alright, your time’s up. Can we move it along please people?

Scott the Woz: Ugh, fine…

[Scott sulks as he walks off.]

Squidward: Next!

[Mummy Pig approaches with Peppa and George.]

Narrator: Peppa and George have come to meet Father Christmas.

Squidward: Two children? That’ll be forty dollars, ma’am.

Mummy Pig: (handing over the money) Now, George here has autism so please be kind to him.

Narrator: George has autism.

Squidward: …whatever.

[Peppa and George skip over to Daddy Pig.]

Peppa: (giggles) Hi, Father Christmas!

Daddy Pig: Er… hi Peppa and George!

Peppa: (gasp) He knows our names, Mummy!

Daddy Pig: I- well- of course I do! I’m Father Christmas!

Narrator: Peppa and George think Daddy Pig is Father Christmas!

Peppa: What did he just say?

Daddy Pig: Er- nothing! Nothing! Now, what would you two like for Christmas this year?

George: Dinosaur! Grrr!

Peppa: Oh George! You always say dinosaur for ‘’everything’’!

Daddy Pig: Ho-ho! Well, Santa will see what he can do. And Peppa, what would ‘’you’’ like for Christmas this year?

Peppa: Well… all I ‘’really’’ want for Christmas this year is for Suzy to come back.

Narrator: Suzy Sheep is dead.

Peppa: It’s just not the same without her, and I’m missing her every day!

Narrator: Peppa and Suzy were in lesbians with each other.

Peppa: I just… I just don’t know why they had to murder her like that.

[Peppa starts crying on Daddy Pig’s lap.]

Narrator: Peppa has started to cry on Daddy Pig’s lap.

Daddy Pig: It’s… it’s okay, Peppa. Father Christmas can’t make Suzy to come back… but everything is going to be okay…

[Pause.]

Peppa: You really think so?

Daddy Pig: Of course, Peppa…

[Pause.]

Peppa: Oh yeah, I’d also like my daddy back.

Daddy Pig: Wait, what?

Peppa: Yeah! A few weeks ago they had this BIG argument and mummy kicked him out of the house! She was saying things like “you know exactly what you’ve fucking done, you fucking fucker”, and “one-time thing my ass, you bloody git! Nothing you do can unfuck the Christmas turkey now, you twat!”

Narrator: Oh dear. Daddy Pig won’t be able to spend Christmas with his family this year.

Peppa: You can bring daddy back, can’t you Santa?

[Pause.]

Daddy Pig: Hm… I’ll see what I can do.

[Bubble transition to an exterior shot of SpongeBob’s pineapple decorated for Christmas. It is heavily snowing. Cut to the inside, where a large cast of characters have gathered around the table for Christmas dinner.]

Narrator: It is Christmas Day. All of SpongeBob’s friends have come to celebrate.

Patrick: Ugh, when is the food gonna be ready? I’m starving!

SpongeBob: (yelling from the kitchen) I’m almost done, Patrick! This Tesco Turkey doesn’t fuck itself, you know.

Mr. Krabs: Nothing you do can un-Tesco the Tesco Turkey.

Mr. Bull: Hey guys, calm down! They’re just about to announce this year’s Christmas number one!

[Everyone shuts up as Mr. Bull turns the radio up.]

Peter Griffin: (on radio) Hey Lois, remember that time I hosted the Christmas charts radio show? Heheheheheheh… anyway, I am very happy to announce that this year’s Christmas number one is… Boris Johnson Is A Sausage Roll by the K**ts!

[Everyone cheers, except Daddy Pig.]

Mr. Bull: WHOOOO! FUCK YEAH!

Scott the Woz: God, I love free speech.

Squidward: Boris Johnson really is a sausage roll!

Mr. Krabs: I just knew we could do it!

Daddy Pig: Meh.

Mr. Bull: What’s the matter, Daddy Pig? You’re not saying you actually ‘’like’’ the Tories, do you?

Daddy Pig: No, no, they stink. It’s just that… something just feels weird about Christmas this year.

Mr. Krabs: (sigh) I know mate, this must be hard for you. I mean, it’s the first Christmas without your family.

Pearl: Oh my God, having Christmas without your family is like so super duper lame guys.

Narrator: Even though this show is written by a female, it apparently does not know how to write female characters.

[SpongeBob walks in.]

SpongeBob: Hey, what’s the matter Daddy Pig?

Patrick: He’s missing his family or something, I don’t fucking know.

Daddy Pig: It’s just… you know, I thought Mummy Pig and I might have made up by now.

[Pause.]

SpongeBob: Well… maybe Mummy Pig and you haven’t made up yet… but I’d say you’re not missing Christmas with your family at all!

Daddy Pig: What do you mean? My entire extended family are having Christmas dinner at my house without me, you bastard!

SpongeBob: No, no, I just mean… don’t you think you’ve got a new family right here?

[Pause. Daddy Pig looks across the table. He looks at SpongeBob, and Patrick, and Squidward, and Mr. Krabs, and Scott the Woz…]

Daddy Pig: You know what, SpongeBob, I think you’re right! I’ve got my family right here!

SpongeBob: You bet you have, pal!

Daddy Pig: And you know what else, SpongeBob?

[Daddy Pig stands up.]

Daddy Pig: I think I’ve finally figured out the true meaning of Christmas! It’s not about the presents, or the snow, or Santa Claus…

SpongeBob: …it’s about the friends and family you share it with!

Daddy Pig: What? Hell no! It’s about realising that I’m better off without that filthy cheating bitch Mummy Pig and that I’ve got everything I need right here!

SpongeBob: Um, I don’t think that’s-

Daddy Pig: Yeah! You what, everyone? I think this might have just been the best Christmas ever!

SpongeBob: …well, um. I’m glad you feel that way, Daddy Pig! Now, who’s hungry?!

[Everyone raises their hands and cheers as the camera pans out of the house and into the night sky. Santa flies by on his sleigh or some shit I don't fucking know. The end.]

[weirdo09]

byler<3

one afternoon, will was bored and decided to call mike for a little ‘hang out’.(more like a make out sess;) ) he dials the wheeler number and holly(she’s like 9) asks the phone. “hi, holly jolly, can i talk to mike, real quick?” will says. “oh, yea, just a minute.” holly replied. she puts the phone down and shouts “MICHAEL, YOUR BOYFRIEND’S ON THE PHONE!”

“COMIN!” mike shouts back. will snickered at holly’s words and waited for mike. “hey, baby doll.” mike answered the phone in a deep tone. “really, michael?” will said with a little chuckle. “sorry, what’s up?” mike said in his normal tone. “wanna come over?” will asked while twisting of the phone cord.(ifykyk)”you know i could never turn down that offer, hold up!” mike said excitedly “HEY, MA CAN I GO TO WILL’S?” he shouts away from the phone. “SURE, YA GONNA SLEEP OVER?” karen yells back. “YEA!” mike says “OK, HAVE FUN!” karen replies. mike then says in the phone “ya still there?”

“yup, heard every word.” will said playfully while rolling his eyes. mike laughs and says “see ya in a bit.” “see ya.” will replies with a smile. “was that mike?” el says suddenly appearing behind will. will jumped and replied “jesus christ, el! yes, that was mike.” el chuckled and said “sorry, you seemed in to the conversation so i wanted to scare you.” will rolled his eyes at his twin and said “whatever, he’s coming in half an hour, i gotta get pretty.” el guffaws and walks away to her room.

“what is this i hear? mike’s coming over?” hopper bellows “yup.” el chimes in “oh, ok, will, three inch minimum.” hopper points at will as he says this. “yea, yea, sure, dad.” will chuckled and goes to his room.

mike biking to the byers house while he sees a flower stand and thinks ‘maybe i’ll get some flowers for him?’ he goes over and buys some lilies.(I feel like will likes lilies :) ) when he arrives, he gets the flowers and knocks on the door. “I’LL GET IT!” mike hears will say then, he opens the door and mike is shocked. will has a little eyeliner and shadow on with some lip gloss. will smirks and says teasingly “like what ya see?” “uh, oh, yea-.” mike stutters. will chuckles and notices the flowers in mike’s hand “are those for me?”

mike looks down at his hand and exclaims “oh, yea, here.” will takes them and says “thank you, wanna come in?” “yea-.” mike walks in and gives will a little peck in the cheek. will slightly smiles at that and leads him to his room. mike sees hopper staring him down and gets a little afraid. will sees this and says “it’s fine as long as my doors open three inches.” will gets a vase with water for the lilies and places it on his bedside table.

in will’s room, they cuddled and looked through will’s recent drawings.(mike’s such a lover for will’s art, it’s insane) el stops by to annoy the peaceful couple but, they barely notice her. after a while, mike starts to kiss all over will’s face playfully, will laughs and smiles cutely. “my god, you’re so cute.” mike says in between each kiss then, he stops at will’s beauty mark. he kisses that and finally, kisses will’s lips. will hums in the kiss and turns to get on top of mike’s lap. they part and mike whispers against will’s lips ‘i love you.’ ‘i love you too, mike.’

will buried his head in the crook of mike’s neck and wraps his arms around mike’s neck. mike has his arms wrapped around will’s waist and slightly rocks the both of them. “i’m hungry.” will suddenly mumbles, mike turns his head to will and asks “what do you want to eat?” “i don’t know.” will says in mike’s neck. “i’ll go get you somethin’, gorgeous.” mike says as he places a kiss on will’s cheek and gets out of will’s hold to get up. he walks to the kitchen and grabs two bags of chips, he turns and there is joyce “oh, hi mike.” she says “hi, mrs. byers.” mike replies and walks back to will’s room.

he walks in to see will sketching something. “whatcha drawing?” mike says as he gives will a little peck on the forehead and tosses him his chips. “you.” will says still in his artist feel, mike smirks at this and says “am i your best muse?” “definitely” will replies as he throws his head back, signaling mike to kiss him. mike kisses him softly and quickly breaks apart the kiss. “cuddle me?” will whispers sweetly. “yea.” mike replies as he picks will up and sits down on will’s bed.

jonathan passes by(he’s home for the weekend) and peeks in to see the couple, he smiles and goes back to his room. “i’m bored~.” will groans “whatcha wanna do?” mike says. will thinks and says “let’s sleeeep.” mike chuckles, wrapping his arms tightly around will’s waist and lightly kisses the moles on will’s neck. will laughs and turns around to kiss mike’s freckles “i. love. your. freckles!!!” will says over and over while kissing every one. mike scrunches his face while laughing.

after dinner, they get ready for bed. will puts on his famous shorts and a crop top as his pajamas “what-.” mike begins to ask then, will shoves a hoodie and shorts on his chest “they’re yours, by the way.” will smiles as he says this. mike wasn’t even gonna question where he got these from and went to the bathroom to change.

after that,(cuz I wanna finish this NOW) mike and will cuddle in will’s bed.(cuz i love cuddling) will starts to get a little drowsy and mike whispers teasingly “aww, my baby’s so sleepy~.” “shut up!” will pouts but yawns shortly after. he starts to snuggle mike and pulls his body closer to his. “warm.” will mumbles “i love you, baby doll.” mike whispers, thinking he won’t get one back cuz will’s so ‘sleepy’. “love you too-.” will mumbles in reply and starts to snore softly. ‘such a cutie.’ mike thinks as he starts to drift off too.

@adorewillbyers @adoremaxmayfield @forever-augustine @forevereternally-janedoe @feelin-a-bit-frazzled @foodiewithdahoodie @l0v3c0r3e @lumaxer @willbyerswithagun @butterflies-for-michael @tinylittle-superfan @verashalurks @valiantallie @crazytogether4l @cloudycleric @cloudyhall @delusional-dingus @yelenapines @yelenbelovas @mjmayfield(have you checked this one out?)

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Title from Sorry by Halsey (aka the biggest Alastair song of all time)

And Christopher’s first sentence is taken directly from the snippet btw

Totally not based on my theory about the new snippet-

Tagging @have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas @wagnerthedragon @life-through-the-eyes-of

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And Someone Will Love You (But Someone Isn’t Me)

“Oh, hullo, Alastair, you must be here to see Charles. I think he’s upstairs in his study.” Christopher said when he let Alastair inside the Fairchild house.

“Oh, yes. I am here to see him, how did you know?”

“You’ve been coming here a lot lately, I noticed. And it was rather obvious that you weren’t coming to see me.” Christopher looked a little embarrassed to have said that, his cheeks faintly pink.

Alastair quite liked Christopher, probably more than any of the Merry Thieves, and he’d always been nice to him and vice-versa. He hadn’t known where Christophe would get the idea that Alastair wouldn’t want to see him.

“I do find your lab work interesting, I wanted to ask you about some scientific theory I read about recently. I can’t recall the title of the article at the moment, but I would be happy to bring it to you.”

Christopher brightened at that. “I think we could be good friends, Alastair.”

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t had many of those.”

He could tell Christopher was about to respond when they were interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Kit? Who’s at the door?” The voice belonged to Thomas Lightwood. Tolerably handsome Thomas Lightwood.

Thomas Lightwood that he kissed in the Sanctuary.

Shit.

This couldn’t be worse.

“Oh. Alastair. Hello.” His tone was an obvious attempt at being neutral. But Alastair could see right through him.

“Hello, Mr. Lightwood.”

It was better to be more formal with him now since their…intimacy. Or whatever it was that they had. It certainly wasn’t a relationship and Alastair won’t call it what it wasn’t.

Alastair turned to Christopher with a tense smile. “I’ll talk to you about the article later, I’m sure Charles is expecting me.”

After some hesitation, he turned to Thomas as well. “Good day, Mr. Lightwood. I’m sure that we’ll see each other around.”

“See you around, Mr. Carstairs.”

Alastair couldn’t really hear his words, they were just barely mumbled under his breath.

He was glad that he had turned away before Thomas had spoken, he didn’t think he would’ve been able to live with seeing the heartbreak on Thomas’s face.

He didn’t know his feelings for Thomas Lightwood. He didn’t know if he loved him or how Thomas even really felt.

You were always my secret, Thomas had said to him in the Sanctuary.

Alastair wouldn’t be Thomas’s secret anymore, he couldn’t be. He couldn’t let Thomas lose his friends, his family, over a relationship that might not even last.

He didn’t deserve someone as amazingly sweet as Thomas. And Thomas didn’t deserve someone as broken and horrible as him.

Maybe that was why he went back to Charles after the battle with Leviathan.

Because he thought that was what he deserved.

No matter how he felt he knew two things:

He didn’t deserve Thomas Lightwood.

And he wouldn’t let Thomas Lightwood follow him around like a little schoolboy anymore.

It wasn’t fair to either of them.

He walked into Charles’s study without hesitation.

“Hello, darling.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🎶On the second day of Angstmas, Riley gives to you 🎶

🎶Two broken hearts🎶

🎶And one Charles dying🎶