#12daysofchristmas2021

“You’ll be back for New Year’s, right?”

“Of course.” He pulled you closer underneath the throw blanket you’d brought out to the patio couch for warmth. Florida didn’t experience true seasons—something you hated about living there—but it still got chilly enough on winter nights to warrant buying a portable fire pit for your backyard. You watched the flames dance in the dark as he pressed a kiss to your hair. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

You smiled to yourself. New Year’s Eve was a significant, if not bittersweet, date for you and Ben (because even though you were both in the business, that’s who he was to you; not PAC—Ben). You’d been friends for years, but you hadn’t even thought of exploring the possibility of anything more until you’d both signed with AEW. Suddenly, there were feelings there that hadn’t been before… feelings that had unexpectedly culminated on the upper deck of Daily’s Place during the countdown at the AEW New Year’s Eve party in 2019.

And then, the world said fuck your feelings.

Of course, the first three months of 2020 had been great; when Ben was in the States, the two of you had probably spent more time out of your clothes than in them. But then he’d flown back home to Newcastle in March… and didn’t return for eight months. He couldn’t. And so, things had just stopped between the two of you.

But the feelings didn’t go away. In fact, when he’d finally made his long-awaited return last November, those feelings had been even more intense than when he’d left, slowly burning during those eight long months like the logs on the fire. You’d picked up right where you’d left off—clothes flung on your bedroom floor, your fingernails leaving marks on his back. And then he’d gone again, another month away.

But that time, things didn’t stop. You’d made it work, despite living an ocean apart. And as much as you hated these nights before he left, the love you felt when he came back made it worth it.

“It’ll be our two-year anniversary, you know.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Two years?” you asked as you lifted your head from his shoulder to look at him. “How is it two? We weren’t together during most of last year.”

But Ben shook his head. “Maybe not physically. But mentally and emotionally… I was still with you those eight months I was gone.”

𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

The challenge will run from December 13-24, 2021.

Each day will have a theme (listed below); your contribution must relate to the theme for that day in some way, shape, or form, however small.

Tag your contribution with #12daysofChristmas2021 AND tag me (@thunderkiss86) so that I will be notified to reblog your submissions here. (Also, it would be super cool if you followed this blog.)

If your contribution has potential triggers, you must identify/tag them (alcohol, cursing, etc.)

If your contribution is writing, please use a “keep reading” cut and follow the post template below.

Title: Theme: Fandom/Character(s): Warnings: Word Count: (if applicable)

Example:

Title: Santa, Baby Theme: Day 8 - Wrapping/Paper/Presents Fandom/Character(s): AEW/Adam Page x OC Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, sexual situations (explicit) Word Count: 7,290

(and don’t forget to tag #12daysofChristmas2021 and me!)

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬

13 December: Snow

14 December: Bonfire/Fireplace

15 December: Holiday Fair/Carnival

16 December: Cookies/Baking/Gingerbread

17 December: Lights/Decorating

18 December: Letters/Cards

19 December: Family/Home

20 December: Wrapping/Paper/Presents

21 December: Cocoa

22 December: Sweater/Scarf

23 December: Mistletoe

24 December: Holiday Dinner/Party

“Andy, is this big enough?” Cassidy called from where she and her sister were struggling to push a giant ball of snow towards the front of the townhouse.

Turning toward them, Andy looked up from where she’d been rolling a second, slightly smaller piece of the snowman’s body. “Yeah, that should do it!” She replied, moving to help them finish pushing the ball into place. “Caro, why don’t you go grab the middle while Cass makes the head?”

As both girls ran off towards their designated tasks, Andy set about situating the snowman’s bottom into the slight divot in the ground she’d carved out, packing just a little bit of extra snow between the bottom of the ball and the ground for stability.

As she worked, Andy thought back to that morning when they had all woken up to a thick layer of snow coating the ground and reports of icy roads and school and work closures coming from all over the city. There had been a time when Miranda would have instantly been on the phone with her assistant, demanding the impossible clearing and salting of New York City streets, but this morning she had just sighed, wrapped her arm around Andy’s waist, and smiled into her coffee cup.

The girls had been thrilled. It was an early first snow, and the joy of no school combined with a day with their mom and Andy had had them practically bursting at the seams from the minute they had bounced down the stairs.

“Can we build a snowman?” “Pleeeeaaaase Andy??” They had asked, before being promptly interrupted by Miranda, who informed them in no uncertain terms that there would be no snowman building until after everyone had eaten breakfast. Andy had then winked at them, promising to go out with them later before following her wife into the kitchen to try to convince her to make their pancakes in silly shapes.

After a late breakfast, Miranda had bundled them up and shooed them all outside muttering something about getting the overeager bunny rabbit out of her house before they broke anything. Now, Caro was returning with the middle of their snowman’s body as Cass patted the finishing bits of snow into the ball for its head.

“Andy, will you help me put this on?” Caroline gestured to snowball she’d just rolled to their spot near the door of the house.

Andy stood up, brushing the snow off her knees, and helped gently ease the second ball onto the first, encouraging Caroline to help her pat extra snow in the cracks. They were then joined by Cassidy, who stood on her tiptoes to place the head. She held it steady while Andy and Caroline filled in the cracks and made sure it was secure.

“Now what?” Andy asked when they stood back to see their finished structure.

“A face!” “And arms!”

The girls quickly moved to gather up the sticks, carrot, and sunglasses that they had collected earlier. Originally Andy had been dubious of the sunglasses – these were Miranda Priestly’s children, after all – but Miranda had summarily informed her that they had come from “some imbecile dressed as a clown who practically shoved them down Cassidy’s throat” the one and only time the Priestly’s had ever been to the circus, which the girls had insisted on keeping.

Andy stood back and watched as the twins carefully attached the snowman’s arms, and pressed the carrot and small, mouth-shaped twig into its face. Finally, Caroline slid the sunglasses on above the nose and stepped back.

“Perfect,” Caro nodded, also stepping back.

“Almost.”

The soft voice floated up behind Andy as she felt her wife’s hand brush her waist. She smiled and turned to Miranda, who’d appeared from the house with an off-white houndstooth scarf draped over her arm.

“No snowperson in front of my house would appear so entirely undressed,” Miranda continued, moving to wrap the thick scarf artfully around the snowman’s neck. As she stepped back, now equally satisfied with its appearance, Andy noticed the names printed into the bottom of the scarf.

“Mir – Miranda, that’s Dior!”

“Mmm, yes.” Miranda placed a gentle kiss on Andy’s lips. “Christian’s not too happy with me at the moment. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the free advertising.”

Miranda felt a smirk growing on her face as she stared at the half exasperated, half-shocked look on her wife’s face. “Come on now, I want you all inside before the three of you freeze into glaciers. You know how I would hate that, Andrea.” She put an arm around her wife’s waist and began to guide her inside. “I believe there might even be hot chocolate in the house to help ensure that everyone is entirely thawed.”

Andy slowed and turned towards Miranda as the twins took off running towards the door. She reached one hand up behind Miranda’s head and pulled her in for a kiss. “You keep me plenty warm all on your own.”

It had been at least half a hour that Roman Reigns had disappeared somewhere after their match. It was curious to say the least, it never happened before, but there was only one room where Seth and Dean still hadn't searched. It was probably the most obvious one, but why should he have been there the whole time, since they had an interview they had to attend to.

"If he isn't there either, I'll lose my mind!" Snapped Dean as him and Seth were heading there: he wasn't angry... more like he was a bit concerned.

"He'll be there, probably fell asleep, today he seemed a bit sleep deprived."

Seth was concerned too, but he didn't think that something could really have happened to him. Reaching the lockerroom seemed to took too much time, but when they finally got there, it was Seth who opened the door.

"Roman...?" Something was definitely off, the room was too bright, lights were hanging everywhere... "Come on, it's not even Thanksgiving! And we've been searching for you the whole time." Looking at it, it was really fancy, but it was still early.

"I want to get in the Christmas mood, it's always like this." Roman jiggled, appearing behind the tree it was put in the corner and was now fully decorated.

"I don't even want to know how you brought all these things here without us not noticing, but we have an interview waiting for us, come on!" Dean was eager to get done with the interview, after they finally found Roman.

"Don't you like it? I did my best!" Roman pouted at them, receiving some glances and a laugh from both of them.

"It, for sure, is fancy and looks like we already are on vacation." Even though they wanted to fight the injustice, they could even share a laugh, they all couldn't stay always serious.

"I agree with Seth, you did a great job!"

🎅🏻 Jay White → Super sentimental about Christmastime, but doesn’t outwardly show it. Total basic bitch when it comes to decorations. Think rustic, homey, Pinterest-worthy vibes. Likes candles that smell like fresh-cut trees.

🎄 Tama Tonga → Tama wants his house to be the best-looking house in the neighborhood year-round, and that includes at Christmastime. White icicle lights on the trim, beautiful wreaths on all the windows, a Santa sleigh with reindeer on the roof. He’s not very good at tree-decorating, though.

🎅🏻 Chase Owens → Favorite Christmas movie is Die Hard, and will fight anyone who says it isn’t a Christmas movie. Doesn’t bother to put up the tree until two weeks before Christmas, and then takes forever to take it down.

🎄 Tanga Loa → Much better at tree-decorating than his brother, but much less showy and materialistic with his decorations. Both Tama and Tanga care a lot about tradition and family, but Tanga is definitely the more softhearted of the two. 

🎅🏻 Hikuleo → Designated tree-topper. 

🎄 Taiji Ishimori → “Decorating” means dressing up his dog in little holiday outfits. 

🎅🏻 El Phantasmo → Acts like a Grinch, but really isn’t one deep down. Will complain if you ask him to help you decorate, but does it because he knows it makes you happy. And even though he’ll never admit it, it makes him happy, too.

🎄 Kenta → Takes pride in combining Western and Eastern traditions. Always indulges in the Japanese tradition of having KFC for Christmas dinner (although he had to do it on Christmas Eve when he lived in the U.S.). Likes ugly Christmas sweaters.

🎅🏻 House of Torture → Actual Grinches. But EVIL and Sho like The Nightmare Before Christmas because it fits their aesthetic.

Nevertheless, he went.

“What’s up?” he asked.

Chuck put his arm around his shoulders as they walked. “Well, it’s Christmas,” he cut himself off to glance at him in question. “You celebrate Christmas, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay, good,” he breathed. “Jim thought you might’ve been Jewish.”

 “What?” Wheeler returned, completely baffled; but Chuck ignored him.

“Anyway, it’s Christmas, and I feel kinda bad that we’ve been giving you such a hard time, what with the constant ridicule and Kris always choking you out and making you look like a little bitch on the Internet.”

Wheeler rolled his eyes.

“So, we all got together and got you a little something. You know, just to show that we really do consider you to be a valued member of Best Friends and not just a second-rate replacement for Greg.”

Wheeler’s face went flat. “Gee, thanks,” he deadpanned. “I can really feel your sincerity.”

Chuck patted his shoulder. “I’m a sincere guy, Wheeler.”

He led him into a room backstage, Brandon still following with the camera. It was completely empty except for a few chairs and the biggest Christmas present Wheeler had ever seen, wrapped up in bright red paper with a shiny gold bow—and Wheeler immediately knew what was up.

“Alright, come on,” he said as he pulled away from Chuck.

“What?” Chuck asked. He was clearly playing dumb.

“I’m not stupid man. This is obviously a bit for BTE,” he motioned at Brandon, “and Kris is obviously gonna jump out of that present and choke me out again.”

“What?” Chuck looked absolutely aghast at the suggestion. “Why would you think that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?!”

Chuck ran a hand over his jaw. “I can’t believe this,” he said with a shake of his head. “You try to do something nice for a friend—a son, even—and you get accused of– I said we got you something nice. Are you calling me a liar?”

“No, I’m not calling you a liar,” Wheeler breathed. “It’s just obvious that this is a set-up.”

“A set-up? You think I would set you up to get choked out?”

“Not under normal circumstances, but in this case ye-ahh!”

He jumped back in surprise as the lid to the present box suddenly burst open. Wheeler braced himself—but it wasn’t Kris. It was Orange.

“Merry Christmas,” he monotonously said. “Or happy Hanukkah.”

Chuck shook his head as he made a cutting motion with his hand across his throat. “Not Jewish.”

“Whatever,” Orange muttered. He held out a small paper plate with a piece of cake on it, sans fork. Wheeler arched a brow as he took it from him.

“Did you get this from catering?”

It was a few seconds before he answered. “…No.”

Wheeler looked at it again. “Yeah, you did. This is the carrot cake from catering.”

“Are you calling him a liar?” Chuck shot.

“Yes!” Wheeler proclaimed. “This time I am! Because he just, in fact, lied—”

“AHHH!”

The next thing Wheeler knew, someone suddenly grabbed him and started choking him from behind. Kris. She had burst out of a closet behind him at exactly the right moment. But he just let it happen. At this point, he’d learned it was best not to struggle.

Brandon zoomed in on him as he slowly faded to the floor. “Ha! We got you good, Yuta!” Chuck triumphantly proclaimed. 

“Merry Christmas ya filthy animal,” Orange followed up. 

They both left the room; but as Wheeler laid gasping for breath, Kris squatted down next to him.

She’d had no idea he would be there tonight. Sure, he was from Long Island, but he’d had neck surgery less than six months ago; was he already cleared to wrestle? She winced as he hit Brandon Cutler with a spear outside the ring. Apparently so.

He took out Matt Jackson, and then Adam Cole, and then Nick Jackson. Alex’s heart was going a mile a minute in her chest. She’d been nervous enough about this match before Trent had shown up. She wasn’t sure why the Super Kliq had suddenly decided to target Best Friends over the last few weeks, but it was hard for her not to take it personally. Her affiliation with The Elite had been one of circumstance; that circumstance had changed. Going after her former friends was like rubbing salt in a wound.

But it was nothing compared to seeing Kris walk arm-in-arm with Sue to the ring. It made Alex realize: the last time Sue had rolled up to Dynamite, she’d been inside the minivan.

Trent, Sue, Chuck, Orange, Kris, and Rocky Romero all gathered in the ring, arms outstretched, but Alex walked away from the monitor before she could see them hug. She couldn’t watch anymore; she didn’t even want to be there anymore. She’d already wrestled her match for Dark: Elevation. No one would even notice if she just left.

She went back to the women’s locker room and gathered up her things. She was staying at a hotel near the arena and flying back home tomorrow morning. Now, she’d wished she’d booked her flight for tonight.

Especially when she walked out of the locker room and came face-to-face with Trent.

“Alex. Hey.”

It was hard for her not to stare. She was even more taken aback by his appearance now that he was right in front of her. He looked so different.

“Hey. Were you injured or in prison?”

It flew out of her mouth before she realized it, and her cheeks burned pink. But Trent shrugged—perhaps intentionally flexing in the process.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Alex rolled her eyes. But she couldn’t stop the smirk that tugged at her lips. At least it had broken the ice.

For a moment, anyway.

“I didn’t know you’d be here tonight,” she said. It was a pointless thing to say—of course she hadn’t known; they hadn’t spoken in eight months. But she didn’t know what else to say.

“A lot of people didn’t know,” he returned.

Alex looked down at the ground. That didn’t make it any better. In fact, it made it worse. It only reminded her that she didn’t used to be just anyone to Trent.

“I got your get well soon card.”

She looked back up at him in surprise. When she’d found out that he’d had neck fusion surgery, the first thing she’d wanted to do was pick up the phone and call him. But she hadn’t felt like she could. She’d found out about the surgery in the same way and at the same time as the rest of the world: after the fact, on Twitter, as if it were no big deal. Not even Chuck had bothered to tell her about it beforehand. Knowing that hurt. It was yet more proof that their relationship wasn’t what it used to be, and it probably never would be again. But it was hard to just let go of six years of friendship. So, she’d sent Trent a get well soon card in hopes that maybe they could salvage what was left, if there was anything at all. But he hadn’t responded—and thinking about it now hurt all over again.

“That was six months ago,” she returned. “Why are you just saying something now?”

“Because I’m an idiot,” he admitted. “I’m sorry, Alex. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to text you over the last six months.”

Alex’s nose unexpectedly burned. Hearing his apology hit her square in the chest. But it felt too little, too late.

“Do you know how hard it was for me to find out about your surgery after it had already happened, on Twitter?” she charged. “I know things weren’t great between us then, Greg, but that’s a serious fucking procedure, and Dustin didn’t even bother to tell me beforehand. Do you know how much that hurt me?”

“Dustin wanted to tell you.”

She blinked in confusion. “What?”

He sighed and looked away. There was guilt in his dark eyes… regret. “Dustin wanted to tell you, and I told him not to because… I don’t even know why now. We got into a fucking screaming match about it right before I went into surgery. Ask Jim.”

Her eyes blurred and she looked up at the ceiling. She didn’t want to cry in front of him. But maybe she should. This had been bottled up inside her for so many months—maybe he needed to see it, to feel it for himself. Maybe it would help them both let go of all their stubbornness and anger.

And maybe that meant she wouldn’t have to let go of him.

“I wish you would have had said something,” she said, her voice growing thick. “Anything.”

He didn’t look away that time. “I wish I would have, too. But I’m hoping that it’s not too late to say it now. I really fucking miss you, Alex.”

Her bottom lip quivered. “I miss you, too. All of you,” she said, and that time she didn’t fight the tears. They fell faster when Trent rushed over to wrap her up in a tight hug, and she buried her face in his shoulder. Eight months they hadn’t spoken, and even longer since it had felt like they were friends. She hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted to just hug him until that moment.

He pulled back, and she did, too, sniffling. She started to wipe the tears from her cheeks—but he beat her to it, wiping them away with his thumbs. Her stomach fluttered.

“Come get a drink with us,” he said.

Her eyes widened. “What?” She shook her head in hesitation. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

His brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Because,” she breathed. “The way I’ve acted… the things I’ve said. I just feel like it won’t ever be the same between any of us.”

Another tear fell, and he wiped it away again. “I get it. But they miss you, too. You’re part of our stupid little family. That never changed. Trust me.”

Her vision went blurry again. He had no idea how much that meant to her.

“Just one drink,” he said. “To start, at least.”

A corner of his mouth quirked up; Alex bit her lip. There was no denying that just the thought of even one drink with all of Best Friends made her uneasy. The group itself had changed so much since she’d left. She felt like Kris had replaced her; she didn’t even know Wheeler; they were in CHAOS now, for crying out loud. But friends like Chuck and Trent—friends who had become family—they were worth trying for.