❝ my chemical romance, panic! at the disco, fall out boy and twentyonepilots imagines. ❞
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐎𝐖𝐍, 𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐄.
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃:...
Note: Apologies for the late update. I have a cold and I went out and got sunstroke yesterday so, yay me. Anyways, enjoy. x
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Gerard:
You've always loved wrapping Christmas presents. Just the thought of buying someone a gift and wrapping it up, making it look all pretty and festive... it was your absolute favourite. When you were old enough to be let in on the whole Santa secret, your mom would let you help her wrap the gifts, and you immediately took a liking to it – a liking that would carry over into your adult years. By the age of thirteen, you were somewhat of a master gift wrapper, and every year since then, come Christmas time, you would go out and find the best wrapping paper, the best bows and strings, and the best name tags to place on the gifts. It wasn't an obsession, per se, it was more of a talent, and you enjoyed doing it tremendously. Needless to say, gift-wrapping was your specialty. Gerard, on the other hand, was terrible at it.
"You're making a mess."
"Shut up and pass me the tape."
"There's more tape on that present than wrapping paper," you sassed, looking at the hideously wrapped present in disgust as you half-heartedly handed over the tape.
"I think it looks beautiful," Gerard retorted, pulling up his nose at you as he grabbed the tape from your hand.
Making your eyes wide and then rolling them to the side, you decided to try and ignore your boyfriend and his pitiful attempts at gift-wrapping and focus on your pile instead.
"Almost done," Gerard announced, squinting and poking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth the way he always did while concentrating as he pressed the last piece of tape on the paper, "There! Ta-da!" he held the present up in the air.
"Wow," you whispered.
"I know, right?" Gerard marvelled, "Isn't it beautiful?"
"I meant 'wow' as in 'wow, I never knew someone could be that bad at gift-wrapping," you explained, shaking your head and moving next to him, using your shoulder to shove him away, "Move. Let me do this."
"Nah uh," he countered, shoving back, "This is my pile. Go back to your own."
"You're kidding, right? We can't give these to people!" you gestured to the atrociously wrapped presents, "No one will want to open a present wrapped this badly."
"Well, excuuuuse me," he scoffed, "I'm sorry we can't all be perfect gift-wrappers like you!"
"You don't need to be perfect – just okay, at least. But you," you waved a stray piece of paper in his face, "are awful. Let me help you."
