#elijah did and still hits that eldest sibling bone for me

[headoverhiddles]

All I Want For Juldagen [Bill Skarsgård x Reader]

Warnings: Nothing! Holiday fluff! 

Bill is a hopeless romantic. 

He tries to tell you he isn’t, but when he takes you out for candlelit dinners “because you look cute”, you beg to differ. Today, he’s got your hand in his, and you’re wrapped around his arm as you stroll by the water together, you in your toque and him with his own new black beanie on (after you made him ditch his grandpa paperboy hat, after much sulking). 

“So did you get what you needed today?” he asks. 

“Yep. I’m fully loaded,” you smile, referring to the shopping trip the two of you had taken today for Christmas– your boyfriend was off for a couple of months right now, as he had finished all the filming he needed to on the latest film he was in. You love that you’ll have him to yourself for a while. 

“My siblings and I are all throwing in to send dad and mum on a trip, and you’ve gotten them matching sweaters, so they’re covered,” Bill says. 

“I got Gustaf a tea set, Valter Far Cry 3, Alex a cactus because he always said he wanted one and I take all of his jokes seriously on purpose, and Elijah a gift card to Le Chateau,” you recount. 

“And I got your mom a honey-scented candle, your dad an Amazon gift card, and your dog a new antler bone,” he smiles, kissing your cheek. You giggle. 

“You know my family and my dog love you more than they love me, right?” you deadpan. 

“And I intend to keep it that way,” Bill nods, and you smack his arm lightly. The unspoken wondering hangs in the air of what each of you got the other person– you had gotten a box of Bill’s favourite Swedish candies, and made him a book of those cheesy coupons with ridiculously kinky favours inside like “you are entitled to watch me do the dishes naked” or “you are entitled to ten minutes of head while you do the vacuuming” which isn’t technically a great or physically practical privilege, but hey… you knew your boyfriend would get a kick out of them. You had mentioned a few things you were looking for this year, like a new tea towel for the stove or a new lampshade that didn’t have a thread hanging off it, but you always felt bad for asking Bill for any real gifty-type gift. 

He always insisted, and you always insisted right back that of course you wanted nothing more than a new toilet seat cover or a nice carpet for the foyer. Before now, Bill had chalked it up to you being really into interior decorating– that is, until he caught you today staring intently through the window of the jewellery store. He saw what you were looking at, but you had quickly assured him you were just browsing, keeping your daydreams to yourself. 

“Still gonna tell me you want a lampshade for Christmas?” Bill asks, finger rubbing circles into your palm as you keep walking. You look out over the water, the stars reflecting beautifully in it. 

“Well… I guess I can be a little naughty, and spring for a sexy pair of panties from Victoria’s Secret.”

He raises his eyebrows. “I don’t know, baby… that’s asking a lot… getting a little greedy there, I think." 

You giggle again, blushing, and he tilts you chin up, smile suddenly fading from his gorgeous lips as he stops you. 

"Hey. I would give you the world if you asked for it, you know that?"  You slowly nod, and stand up on your tippy toes to kiss him.  You two continue walking. 

-                                                                                                        

You roll over and sigh contentedly as Bill joins you in bed. He had just finished brushing his teeth after having his last cigarette of the day, and the two of you were settling in for a movie. 

"What do you wanna watch?” he murmurs, “We’ve got Elf… that old Moomin Christmas movie Alexander was in… The Santa Clause… Rudolph-" 

"Black Christmas,” you say, and he huffs a laugh. 

“I fully blame you if I can’t go to the bathroom tonight in fear of somebody strangling me with Christmas lights." 

"Come on, you know I like to watch this every year,” you pout. 

“If you can put up with my Christmas traditions, I can put up with yours,” he smiles, kissing your forehead, and you both turn to the screen. About halfway through, Bill looks down to find you asleep on his chest. He tries to keep watching just to say he did, but he’s too terrified, and turns it off to snuggle with you. You both fall asleep in each other’s arms.  It’s almost Christmas, and the tree is up. It’s got a combination of your decorations and his, yours being the little bells and snowflakes and Santa ornaments, and his being the traditional apples (fake ones), candles (plastic tea lights, so you didn’t burn the place down like so many Swedish people obviously did in the 16th century) and a few small gnomes that he had taken with him from his childhood home. It was a nice tree, you had to admit, and the decorations made it perfect. 

This year, your respective families were coming to visit you where you both lived (just outside of LA right now, convenient for Bill’s work), and you had already had your family over.

If you didn’t go to Sweden to visit, (which was always fun, especially the particularly appetizing anchovy and egg dish you got to eat with everyone, Gubbröra) Bill’s family usually came a little after Juldagen (Christmas Day) and closer to Annandag Jul (Boxing Day) as it was hard with all of Bill’s brothers to coordinate who was available when, who was shooting what when, etc. etc.. You did love when the Skarsgårds came and visited here though, especially with Stellan dressing up as Jultomten, knocking at the door with his sack of gifts. Every time, Bill insisted you both were way too old for that, and every time Alexander, like the dutiful eldest son he is, always reminded everyone that nobody was too old for Santa Claus. 

Your parents loved the gifts, as did your dog, and once again, Bill had won their hearts. You remember watching him talk to your dad in private, and thought back to when your parents used to tell you how they hoped you would find someone right for you.  Bill feels like that guy. 

- Three days before Juldagen, you both are busy with preparations.

“I’m so glad our families aren’t annoying,” you remark, pouring some eggnog. 

“Well, mine’s annoying. Yours isn’t,” Bill smiles, adjusting the two stockings over the fireplace. 

“I love your family,” you say, sticking your tongue out, and he shrugs.  “Glad one of us does.” He laughs out loud. “No, I agree. I’m glad I don’t have to worry about a mother in law from hell." 

"In law?” you ask in curiosity, and he quickly snaps his gaze up. 

“Uh, hypothetically." 

"Oh,” you nod, and he clears his throat. 

“Hey, um, is that snowman thing on the roof still crooked?” he asks, dashing up the stairs quickly with those freakishly long legs, “I’ll fix it!”

You frown at his weird behaviour, and go back to pouring a little rum into each glass of eggnog. 

“Don’t get strangled with Christmas lights up there!” you call with a grin, and hear him shriek playfully. You take out your phone, sending Merry Christmas texts to all your friends and family, and sigh. 

It never snowed in LA like it did when the two of you visited Sweden, but other than that, it was shaping up to be a perfect Christmas. 

-

Childlike excitement fills you as you wake up earlier than you usually do on Christmas Eve.

“Baby,” you hiss, “Hey! It’s Christmas Eve." 

He blinks awake, and rubs his eyes. "Oh… Merry Christmas,” he smiles, kissing you softly. A few seconds into the kiss, you push lightly on his chest as he starts to deepen it and get handsy. 

“Come on. We can save that for dessert,” you grin, and he smiles too, tugging on a shirt and pyjama pants to go downstairs. You forget when you launch yourself out of bed that you’re still in your candy cane lingerie dress, that wouldn’t be complete without the little panties that read “Dear Santa, Define "Good”. Bill slaps your ass as he walks by, and as you squeal, he picks you up, carrying you bridal style down the stairs. 

“I have to change,” you protest, laughing. 

“Why?” he laughs too, “You look perfect. Don’t ever change." 

"Saying I look perfect and being a cornball won’t get you laid any faster,” you tease, and he shakes his head. 

“Damn. Thought I really had that one in that in the bag.” You two giggle together until you make it to the huge tree in your living room. You hop down from Bill’s arms to turn on the tree lights, and flop down by the TV. An entire day of watching Christmas movies and cuddling with hot chocolate and Creme de Mente later, it’s time for the gifts when it gets dark. In Swedish tradition, gifts were opened Christmas Eve, so you had gotten used to it this way. 

About a half hour later, you’re finally on the last one. Bill loved his candies and had already eaten half the box, and his coupons were a hit too- he had already redeemed ‘you are entitled to an upside down on the floor kiss’. 

“One more,” he says, licking his lips. You watch him… he only really does that when he’s nervous. You reach for the box at the back of the tree skirt, and begin to take the paper off slowly. 

“Bill…” you start, and he envelops your hands as you finally open the gift up. A gasp escapes you. It’s… it’s the rose ring from the front display of the jewellers, the one from that new Beauty and the Beast “Enchanted” line that you couldn’t stop staring at and dreaming about! It was beautiful– the little twists of the silver and diamond made the middle look like a little rose, and oh god, it was everything you wanted and more. 

“Will you be my wife?” he asks simply, very nervously, and you break down, sniffling and rubbing your eyes. 

“Oh my god… yes, Bill! I Iove you so much." 

”(Y/n),“ he smiles, and squeezes your hands, "I know you hate the song, but…”

You look up at him from the ring, tear-brimmed eyes widening.  “D-don’t say it,” you laugh through your happy tears, “Don’t be th-that guy."  "Hey, I’ve got nothing to lose now.” He beams at you. “All I want for Christmas is you.” He slips the ring on your finger, and tugs you closer to him, crashing your lips together. 

“Oh, and the new pair of panties is waiting upstairs under the bed. Along with the lampshade." 

You giggle, resting your forehead against your fiancé’s. By next Christmas, you two would be married… and not a season too soon.

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård imagine #bill skarsgard x reader #reader x bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard smoking #roman godfrey #pennywise #it 2017 #christmas #fluff #christmas fic #reader insert #hemlock grove #castle rock

[cupcakes-canburn-blog]

How to get rid of Writers Block

BY Marie

How to Get Rid of Writer's Block

Hunter sat in her favorite corner of the café, her head resting on the table as she pondered her options on the story she was writing. She was still struggling to get her ideas out on the document. Her best friend Jasmine had been poking her head with a pen for the last five minutes, failing to elicit a response from her. Hunter’s eyes were closed as she looked at the darkness that resided behind her closed eyes. It was becoming impossible for her to remember what she wanted the story to mean.

        “Hey, Hun, Hun!” Jasmine growled, poking Hunters cheek with the back of her pen.

        “You, can’t just ignore me, or your work. Come on WOMAN!” Jasmine shouted making Hunter jump in her seat.

        “Finally!” Jasmine exclaimed throwing her hands in the air.

        “Really! You're trying to scare me to death!” Hunter exclaimed her voice rising into a higher octave than usual. Her heart beating fast, her instinct to run has been awaken. Her eyes searching the room for any sign of danger, the adrenaline rushing in her veins making her heart thunder in her chest.

“No, just wanted to scare some life into you. You might as well have been a corpse, just siting there, unmoving.” Jasmine said getting up, and walking towards the espresso machine, and started to make Hunter a white chocolate hot chocolate.

“You can be cruel, you know that don't you?” Hunter asked sitting up, before stretching her arms, and running her fingers through her thick ebony hair.

“You love me, whether you know why or not, you love me.” Jasmine laughed shaking her red curls at her best friends pouting face.

“Oh shut it you.” Hunter grumbled a smile forming on her lips.

“You’ll be here tomorrow right?” Jasmine asked walking towards her friend with the hot chocolate in her hands.

“You know it, and if I’m not then it's because I got stuck again.”

“Fine, but you better get your butt over here at some point next week got it.” Jasmine grumbled, as if she was chastising a child.

“Yes mam!” Hunter saluted her best friend, before grabbing her hot chocolate and walking out the door.

-----

Dawn sat there looking out the window, the dark circles under her eyes more pronounced the grimace on her lips, turned into a scowl. Her eyebrows drawn together causing wrinkles to form on her forehead. Turning from the windows view, losing the sunshine and light breeze she saw outside the first day of summer was warm and the flowers bright, the trees green or showing of their flowers and glory for the world. Outside was so much different than inside.

“How can you stand it?” Her Brother growled looking at her, his own set of mint green eyes howled and frantic, the dark circles and bags they shared were more pronounced under his eyes, contrasting greatly with his creamy pale complexion. His back was stiff, rigid his shoulders tense, and his body shaking with rage. Barely contained rage. And who could blame him.   

“He’s our brother, we need to have some faith in him Elijah.” Dawn Whispered looking back out the window, her small thin fingers clenching into a fist that could break a grown man's skull.

“That he is, and yet he does this to us? This… this… whatever the hell this is!” Elijah spat out, disgust coloring his now red face.

“No one is saying not to be mad Eli, you have every right to be mad. All I am saying dear brother, is to trust our eldest brother, to trust Lucien! Not the novels or the other members at court, but our brother. The one who taught me my letters and sums. The one who taught you how to sword fight, because I kept betting you. The one who hid us from the enemy when they breached the castle when we were all children. Our brother.” Dawn Snapped, her voice rising and falling. Her own outrage finally surfacing to met that of her third eldest brother.

Elijah stepped back, he knew better than to upset his youngest sibling. The people called her Dawn the just, the kind, the forgiving. She was all that, but not when one crossed her. Dawn was the politician out of the four of them, calm but deadly always weaving webs that would benefit the kingdom and their family. Webs no one noticed until it was too late.

“Look Elijah, he’s blood of our blood, bone of our bone, if we can’t trust in each other then who can we trust?” she sighed, pleading lacing her words. Elijah wanted to believe in their brother she wanted to believe in him too.

-----

        Now she had no idea what to write, her mind drew a blank. She sat there looking at the computer screen, her eyes tired and her body beginning for rest. Still she wouldn't stop letting her fingers dance across the keyboard, not until she finished the story. The story that had be plaguing her dreams for weeks. Still no matter how much she wrote she was no closer to figuring out where the story was going, than she was when she had first started writing it. Hunter was at her wits end. The deadline was close but her fingers refused to sing across the keys and paint pictures with letters on the screen. All she could do was type and hope that something was actually good, not the piece of shit work she had been writing for the last five hours.

Five hours, five hours she had been typing, and in those five hours she couldn’t even pull off decent work. Today was not going as planned. Hunter got up from her bed, grabbed the laptop she had been working on saved the file and shut the damn piece of technology off before she threw it at the wall. She walked to the window and pulled back the blinds; it was already dark outside though it was only five in the afternoon.  Winter was here and the snow had set weeks ago.  Now all that existed was darkness and cold. Two of the things she hated the most in the world, and there wasn’t much she could do about it. When winter came, it took the light and warmth with it. Moving towards her closet, she took off her warm, fluffy, purple pj's with white bunnies on them, slid on some leggings and jeans, then pulled on a turtleneck and sweater. She stepped into her winter boots, and snatched her thick, warm, feathered winter jacket. Waddling towards the living room she stopped in front of her hallway mirror, glancing at her reflection. She yanked her hair up and snatched the rubber band she had left there the night before twisting her hair into a messy bun.

        She made her way towards the front door, grabbing her purse from the couch. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the New York cold. She pushed the door of her apartment open, heading towards the small cafe. Hunter headed northwest from her home on 14th st, her mind wondering on how she was going to pull the story together. She had killed off most of her characters in the first two books and now their children were taking the stage. She felt horrible for putting any of her ‘babies’ through what she had put them through. What could she do? The second her fingers graced the keyboard the characters took over, demanding that things happen this way and that. Instead of letting her take the lead, it was as if they wanted the story to go one way, while she wanted it to go another way. They wanted happy ending, but she still couldn’t give her ‘babies’ that. Not even after what she did in the first to books. Hunter turned left onto University PI, her surroundings fading in and out of reality, as she became absorbed into the worlds she had created.

She hated the cold, even after two years she wondered why, she stayed in the city. Why she didn’t go home, she didn’t know. Maybe just maybe she didn’t want to leave, maybe the city had become home. Ha,... home, home was warm and sunny all year. Sure, sometimes it rained in Florida, but at least she didn’t freeze her ass of when she went out during the winter. No she was warm there, and she knew everyone in the small town she had grown up in.

        Hunter kept going straight onto Washington Square, until she felt someone yank her back by the arm, snapping her out of her thoughts. Panic setting in, she pulled away from the person holding onto her arm, surprisingly not needing to use much force at all.

        “Are you alright?” She heard a deep rich baritone voice say behind her. Hunter stood there staring at the street she had almost attempted to cross. Cars were speeding by, blurring into one another she had almost gotten herself killed. Hunter could feel her heart racing violently in her chest, the adrenaline flooding her system, as her blood pounded in her ears. She had been so close to becoming roadkill.

“I’m fine thank you.” Hunter whispered, still letting the near death experience run through her mind. Her heart finally slowing when the walk sign turned on. She headed towards her favorite bakery. The promise of a red velvet cupcake, and mug of hot chocolate, with whipped cream and sprinkles, and maybe a few chocolate fudge brownies. Yeah, that sounded about right. Reaching out Hunter wrapped her fingers around the handle and pulled the door open, letting the delicious mouthwatering scents of baked goods envelop her in a warm hug. Walking in, she made a beeline for her favorite spot: the window nock with a coffee table by its side, and an electric plug under the seat.

“Finally, I thought someone had killed you.” Jasmine exclaimed, walking over towards, her.

“No, no, I just have to finish the story in time for the deadline, next week. I’m focused.” Hunter sighed taking off her puffy coat, and plopping down on the seat, she had become friends with Jasmine two years ago when she had stumbled on the café on accident.  Since then every day at three she would come to have a snack and hot chocolate and talk with the twenty something year old owner.

“You should know by now, that if you stuff yourself in that apartment of yours, you’ll just keep hitting a wall.” Jasmine hummed getting up, and headed to take Hunters usual order.

“Add sprinkles and two fudge brownies to it please. Oh, and a pizza stuffed pretzel!” Hunter called out, getting an odd look from the rest of the customers.

“The book is on the second shelf,” Jasmine called, from her spot behind the register. Before taking another customer's order. Hunter got up, and turned to face the bookshelf that was directly behind her seat, and grabbed one of her favorite books, it was old and worn by now considering, that ever since she meet Jasmine, and had started going to the cafe, she would read it. Revolution, She had found the book her junior year of high school and had fallen in love with it. Hunter had the copy at home, she knew the book word for word. Hunter turned the pages until she reached her favorite page, her eyes scanning the words, for her favorite line. Her lips tugging into a smirk, a spark of an idea forming in her mind. Hunter reached for her purse and grabbed her tablet, tuning it on she felt her mind hum to life, as if some switch was flipped on. Hunter’s fingers glided across the keys, dancing as she made the worlds paint portraits of the scene running through her mind, as if they were a memory, a movie.

She hummed as she weaved, and threaded her characters and their actions. While she left them space to grow and evolve, synchronizing with them to form a partnership. Hunter's mind was finally going in the direction she need it to go. The click she needed to happen had, and now her mind was focused centered on the task at hand. Writing these beings her mind had created and typing them into her document, slowly fleshing out the world, the chaos that was needed. Hunter hummed along to the song playing in the background. Her mind focusing on the details, painting the scenery as she weaved the path, slowly bring siblings together, just to tear them apart. Hunter let her mind wonder into the world she had created as she slowly, formed the events which would lead to the battle.

“Here you go.” Jasmine said, causing Hunter to jump.

“Thanks,” Hunter mumbled placing her hand over her heart.

“You get scared way too easily, you know that right?” Jasmine asked a worried look decorating her features.

“Yeah tends to happen when you grow up with three older brothers,” Hunter sighed leaning back against her chair.

“Well, then.”

“Yeah, you got lucky you're an only child.” Hunter mumbled, as she stretched her arms and back.

“Not really, I always wanted siblings, preferably an older sibling.” Jasmine, sighed sitting down across from her friend.

“They’ll always be a pain in your ass, no matter how old you all get.” Hunter grumbled as her hands moved to play with her hair. A habit Jasmine noticed she did whenever she was Nervous.

“Still, siblings have to be better than none, I mean it’s another person that can somewhat relate to what you're going through when you grow up.” Jasmine asked stretching her arms across the table, wiggling her fingers in an attempt to take on of Hunters brownies.

“Yeah to an extent, they always have your back, or at least one of them always has your back at some point or another.” Hunter smirked noticing her friend's attempt at taking her food, reaching to the brownie, Hunter grabbed a napkin and placed the napkin with the brownie in front of her friend.

“Why don’t you just ask Jazz?”

“Shhh, I’m trying to be sneaky, Hun bun.”

“Really? Hun bun?”

“What? It's cute and I like it.”

“Fine Jazz, Hun bun it is.”

“Yes!” Jasmine exclaimed  Hunter shook her head looking at her friend, sometimes wondering how her friend had survived all these years. Then again anyone could say that about her as well. Hunter returned her attention to her tablet, sighing when her fingers danced across the keys once more, allowing he to manipulate her characters in a way that would work. She was trying to figure out how to get to the first fight.

-----

Hunter had gone back to her apartment after spending a few hours at the Caffe trying to figure out how to make the battle work out in the protagonist favor. Now she was back at her apartment after finally giving up on the argument with Jazz about the dangers of walking home at night in New York. Jazz had been right, but Hunter had wanted to clear her head with a walk. Still she let her friend call her cab, instead of walking so her mind wasn’t as clear she would have liked it to be.

Hunter opened the window, propping it open with a thin book, before claiming the fire escape up to the roof of the building. Her body protesting about the cold, making her regret her decision, until she reached the top. Her eyes scanning the city, looking at the thousands of lights that were still on at night, looking like glowing crystals, in a city filled with chaos and smug. She sighed letting her mind drift to all the possibilities of what could happen in a city so crowded and still so empty.

Hunter's mind wandered to all the things that could hide in the shadows. It paled compared to what her mind would conjure, for nothing was scarier than the people that walked in the light. For humans where bigger monsters than anything that could lurk in the dark, damp and cold shadows of New York.  Hunter let her mind hum, and wonder to any possibility that it wanted to, letting her reach a certain level of fantasy and reality. Her mind was aware of where she was and still at the same time completely unaware of it. Hunter laughed when she felt the click again, the spark of an idea.

The last step she needed to complete her story. It has finally come, finally, up on the roof of her apartment in the cold. Where every time she would breath she could see her breath. Her body was shaking trying to keep itself warm. While her mind was overworking itself in an attempt to complete the story. Hunter started to climb down the fire escape until she reached her room. The knowing smile that graced her lips, letting anyone who saw it know that she had a secret, that one else had the right to know.

   -Marie

#writers block #stress #glorious #victory