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#depressed-soggy-cardboard
junkartie · 6 months
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Idk if this is a shitty country thing or turkey thing but am i insane or does all the junk food and snacks here taste like NOTHING. Every chocolate bar is dry and tastes the same. All the cakes are soggy AND DRY and taste the same. All cookies taste the same. All ice-creams taste slightly off and artificial. Theres like 3 flavors of chips ever and pringles got taken away because theyre too expensive to buy. We havent had 1 new mcdonalds or burger king item since like 2018. Its driving me insane. Everything is so lackluster. Everything is filled with artificial flavors because the government cant afford milk. Im losing my mind. I remember last year i visited Denmark again and i was gobsmacked that they had so many snacks that actually TASTED like something. Living in a corrupt non developing country makes minuscule things so depressing. I know this is the least of my worries but god i sometimes want to ram my head in the wall because everything tastes like cardboard or pure syrup
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mamabear937 · 1 year
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Mental health, the human psyche...it's like a cardboard box. And if you're neurodivergent, ADHD, ASD, whatever might be going on in your psyche, those things are stones. And you have to carry those stones in your cardboard box without letting it break or fall apart. If it falls apart, that's a mental breakdown at best, or death at worst.
Now add on top of that the typical responsibilities of life. School, work, chores, kids, basic self-care, home maintenance, grocery shopping, running a household, whatever. All of those things are stones, too. They're smaller stones, sure, but they add up quickly.
Now we all know that the neurodivergent are more prone to anxiety and depression. Anxiety and depression are like water, soaking into your cardboard box. The more stones that are in it, the more water soaks into your box. And we all know that cardboard is just glorified paper. What happens to paper when it gets wet? It becomes weak, it begins to fall apart. Eventually it'll disintegrate.
You can't let your box fall apart. Learn to recognize your boundaries and prioritize. Yes, maybe your house won't be the cleanest. Maybe it'll be super disorganized. Maybe your grass will get overgrown or the weeds will take over the garden. But all of those things are meaningless if your box falls apart.
Prioritize. Minimize. And cut yourself some slack. You're not a robot, you're a neurospicy human being and you simply can't carry it all.
And for those who are blessed with a dry box filled with only the small stones, have a little compassion on those of us whose boxes are soggy. We're not lazy, we're just struggling to keep our shit together.
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elirluna · 1 year
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and it's not like im actively suicidal or depressed or anything, im past that point - sort of. this is desperation. this is accepting that those feelings aren't going away and they're living with me. they'll go to work with me and come home with me and go to sleep with me. acceptance doesn't make it any easier though. im stuck in this weird inbetween. teenage rage made me self destructive but at least it felt like i had fuel. i don't have the energy to get all that angry anymore. rebellion doesn't feel as thrilling. ive successfully turned myself into a soggy little cardboard person
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serialchilller · 1 year
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Today's depression level: makes Eeyore look like a party animal. Cheers to feeling like a soggy cardboard box in a rainstorm.
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doctorguilty · 2 years
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insect/pet death cw
really depressed. most of my beetles really didn’t/aren’t going to make it. when I built their new enclosure, I didn’t want to transfer really any of the old, soggy bedding... i painstakingly rummaged through and grabbed what I could, I then set up a piece of cardboard on top of the old stuff, left a rawhide chew on top, and every day I shake off whoever surfaced to eat the cow ear into the new enclosure. there’s less and less every day. 
I see larvae already emerging in the new enclosure, so the good news at least is.. they should keep reproducing and eventually I’ll have what I had. but.. 
I must have had thousands. they’d devour chunks of meat to the bone in less than 24 hours. I spent hundreds of dollars feeding them, caring for them, treating the enclosure with predatory mites when pest mites did outbreak. it must have been almost 2 years worth of care and breeding from a small culture I bought and started with.. 
I loved them so much. it was my successful, thriving colony. and I left home for one month, and came back to it completely decimated. I wish I had more foresight, I wish there were better options, though truthfully, I really don’t know what else I could have done in my situation....... 
I’ve broken down crying about it multiple times, including on the phone with my therapist. I’m breaking down now, after doing my nightly check up on them. 
one month. one month was all it took 
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rpvlix · 1 year
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ramble about Fous
//Ohh he's so underutilized... I am sure I will have some to say tho let's get going
In his original iterations I had a lot more negative feelings about Fous. His story hasn't changed much since the start and neither has his personality, but I have come around a lot more as time went on.
Used to think he was really pathetic and kind of annoying but now I dunno. I do relate to him a little more now, as I've developed him more in my head i realize that we have very similar flavors of depression and anxiety. He is pathetic but in kind of a soggy cardboard way and I like that in a man.
Back in his Prime, he and Braso were actually SUPER alike. I mean Braso hadn't been born yet, but if he had then the similarities would have been almost too strong. Very physically gifted, so much muscle. But he was an upbeat guy with not a lot of brains, loved helping people and loved mortal life.
Honestly all three of the middle siblings are a LOT more alike than they can see for themselves. They are all largely defined by loneliness and have similar attitudes and honestly even goals.
They all strive to enjoy life to the fullest. Fous has decided that this is unattainable and no longer tries. Astathis has an idea of life that makes him annoying to many other people, often prioritizing himself over everyone else as well. Braso wants to experience everything he can, more or less. It is an interesting thing for me to reflect on, at least. The ways that they compare and contrast. The ways that they might not have had the same emotional issues in each others situations. The ways they might have the same issues in each others situations. I think about these three more than I talk about them.
Fous was always rebellious. He realized really really early on into missions on the mortal planets that their lives were so much more fulfilling. Joyful. He's the one that planted seeds in Astathis' mind long before anyone could've seen things going the way they did. Ast doesn't even remember this, but Fous would often speak with his toddler brother about how unfairly Aton treated everyone. About how Astathis must grow up to be strong willed in order to survive. About how he wanted so badly to leave forever, to live and die like any mortal would.
I like Fous a lot now, I really do. I think there's a lot of interesting nooks and crannies to explore now but I just haven't had the time or the motivation to go digging yet. Historically he is one of the least used muses (he and Andras have had probably less than 10 interactions each across all iterations) so I just havent had a lot of time/reason to explore him very much.
I'm sure that someday I will find a muse that works well with him in a fun enough way that he will see some action. Until then he will sit in his room and stew, I suppose.
Its not just moping about a lost love anymore like it was in original iterations. It was a man slowly losing all hope he had, abandoning his life for one that had even a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, and then having that ripped away from him. He is utterly hopeless in a way that could be fun or also intensely depressing to delve into. And I do love that
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saltywithsarcasm · 5 years
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I told him you guys loved him even though he’s a brat. @dadmic @depressed-soggy-cardboard
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8, 1, 3, and 4 gimme that gud distraction im not feelin so gud love ur blog btw
8. what color do you think goes best with your personality?
various shades of gray i guess
1. what’s your favorite way to dress?
black jackets and jeans
3. what movie/game/etc. helps you calm down?
i don’t know if it helps calm me down but i play too much naruto blazing so maybe that LMAO
4. what does your room smell like?
home
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m0nomercy · 5 years
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Omfg i love your art so much i (try to) art too and your art has inspired me so much tHAnK
askljflskjf thank you so much!! that means a lot
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takethisroad · 3 years
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Has anyone made a silverflint fanvid set to Bad Liar by Imagine Dragons yet or do I have to do all the hard work myself?
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trashyreptilian · 2 years
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18th birthday, September 9th 1992.
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Author's Note: So before you read this, keep in mind that this is me in unfamiliar waters when it comes to writing fanfic. Unlike drawing, I am very much a beginner. Also, this one-shot is based off an AU of The Mandela Catalogue that I made, "Best Friend" AU. The basic gist of it is that a human and an alternate are besties, that's it.
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Trigger Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, physical abuse, alcoholic parents and trauma.
Characters: Mark Heathcliff (he/him), Him (it/its) and Sarah Heathcliff (she/her)
Summary: It’s Mark’s 18th birthday, an important day but not in the way you’d expect. Having had enough of his abusive alcoholic mother, he’s ready to leave the house. But something seems to be getting in the way. (Word count: ~2 500)
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Mark woke up to the sound of his alarm clock. He begrudgingly reached over it to turn it off, he could barely lift his arm up. He kept hitting it until it stopped buzzing. It was 3 p.m., he overslept again. Couldn't care less. Contemplating whether he should get up or not, he looked over his calendar hanging across the room.
Saturday, September 9th, his 18th birthday. After so many years, the day had finally come. Today was important. However, it wasn't because it was his birthday. No, his past birthdays were all the same. Boring, uneventful, and honestly, quite sad. As the years went by, his family cared less and less until they all probably forgot about it altogether. Isn't it depressing that the only people who ever gave a damn about my birthday were my two ONLY friends? One of them isn't even human, and yet, it shows more love than any of my family members.
Mark let out a sigh and got up from his bed. He put on the same clothes that he's been wearing for a week, a grey hoodie, and black jeans. He left his bedroom and walked downstairs to the kitchen. The sound of him pouring a bowl of cereal was all he could hear. His mother and sister must have gone somewhere. That was confirmed when he looked through the window to see one of the cars missing. The house was all to him, so he rushed back upstairs, spilling his overdue breakfast along the way. He stopped above the disappearing attic stairs; it was above his bedroom door. Every minute wasted is a minute that his friend had to stay cramped inside that attic. He knocked on the wall, waiting for a response. The silence was broken by the sound of faint knocking coming from the ceiling. He eagerly pulled down the attic stairs and climbed up.
The attic was filled with useless garbage. Stacks of cardboard boxes, old damaged furniture, and other stuff he couldn't make out in the darkness. It was almost impossible for anybody to come up here. The perfect hiding place. Mark tried to get in, despite all of the clutter in the way. He looked around the room but the dim light coming from downstairs was barely enough for him to see anything clearly. As he was about to say something, he suddenly felt something touching his shoulders. Long black fingers were protruding. He could hear familiar heavy breathing behind him. He felt it leaning forward, right up to his left ear.
"Happy Birthday, Mark..." Him whispered.
Mark couldn't help but smile. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack, dude? Come on, the house is empty."
He climbed down the attic stairs and Him followed him soon after. They went downstairs to the living room. Mark sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. Nothing interesting was on until he turned on the news. Another alternate encounter was reported in the Mandela County. Before hearing anything else, he swiftly switched over to a different channel. He really wasn't in the mood to listen to an encounter again, seemed like a weekly occurrence at this point. Mark looked at his bowl that he had been holding and the cereal had become soggy. Completely inedible. He put it down on the coffee table. He glanced over at Him who's been sitting next to him. He noticed that it was holding something. Is that a present?
"Whatcha got there?" Mark pointed at the box.
Him got startled a bit, seemed like it forgot it had that. It quickly gave the box to Mark and tapped on the top of it as a sign to open it. The visible gaps in the wrapping kind of gave away what the gift was. Although with those elongated fingers, Mark was surprised that it even managed to wrap it up in the first place.
"I've said this before and I'll say it again, you don't have to get me anything for my birthday." Mark stated as he was opening the gift. "But I mean...I still appreciate it."
It was a brand new SNES. A game console that he had his eyes on since its announcement last year. "Holy shit, okay." His smile grew wider and he desperately tried to hide it. "Alright." He laughed. "Be honest with me, how do you get these gifts for me every year?"
Before Him could say anything, Mark interrupted. "And you better not say the same bullshit again every time I ask, that "it doesn't matter"."
It donned a shit-eating grin. "I'm sure you've already figured out how I get them..."
Yeah, it stole them. There's was no other way. He didn't care though and brushed it off with a chuckle. "Well, thanks anyway. I love this." He examined the packaged console. "I guess we won't be so bored in our apartment after all."
Him tilted its head and Mark stood up. "That's right, I actually found an apartment for the both of us. It sure as hell wasn't fucking easy with me being seventeen but one landlord was willing to make an exception." His heart started to pound faster. "Can you believe it? After so many years, feeling trapped in this house with that alcoholic cunt, I can finally leave. I have no reason to stay here" His hands began to shake and his throat tightened.
Him could sense Mark's uneasiness, it got up to comfort him. Mark backed away and took a deep breath. "Look I'm fine, it's nothing." Tucking away his hands in his pockets "...Just a little excited, you know?"
It wasn't convinced in the slightest and by the look on its face, he made it more worried. God, I hate it when he looks at me like that. Mark turned away. "The sooner we leave, the better... Tonight, when everyone is asleep, we're getting out of here. I've already packed my stuff yesterday."
Him placed its hand on Mark's shoulder. He looked back. "If there's anything you have to take, you should give it to me so I can pack it. I don't want us making a ruckus while we're leaving."
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.
Nine hours passed; it was pitch black outside. Mark made sure that everyone was sleeping. Any subtle noises could have ruined it all. As he was ready to start up the car, he realized something. "Shit..." He exasperatedly sighed. "I forgot some stuff. Wait here, I'll be quick." He left Him and rushed over to the door.
He made his way to the kitchen to grab some food. Canned and frozen were good enough for now. I don't think they'll mind me stealing some of these. Nobody eats them anyway. Once that was done, sudden footsteps were approaching. Fuck, did somebody hear me? Mark thought before hiding. Goddammit, why did I have to go back in here? It was silent again. He wasn't sure who woke up or where they went, but he had to leave. Taking the risk, he headed for the door.
In the darkness, somebody was blocking him. "What the hell are you doing?" It whispered, bewildered. He recognized that voice. "Sarah?"
"Yeah, it's me, where are you going?!" Sarah's voice raised a bit this time.
"I'm...Uh..." There's was no easy way out of this. "I'm going to a party?" His eyes shifted and he started scratching the back of his head.
"Liar...I saw your room; half of your stuff is gone!" She almost shouted but Mark shushed her. "Are you leaving us?"
Hearing that made his stomach turn. "I don't have time for this, Sarah. Please, we'll talk about it tomorrow." He reached for the door handle but Sarah pushed him away. "No! I just don't understand..." She paused. "Why are you leaving?"
Mark had a good reason to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. "It's not like you'd understand anyway. Just get out of my way."
"Wouldn't understand?! You know, I WOULD understand if you actually talked to me for once!" She said in a frustrated tone.
Mark couldn't help but scoff at her when he heard that. "Yeah? You want to play the innocent one here? Guess what? I TRIED to reach out to you, I tried talking to you but you'd push me aside! Whenever I'd talk to you about our parents and what I was feeling, you'd dismiss it as me overreacting or being crazy!" His breathing got heavier, so many bad memories resurfaced.
A moment of silence had passed before Sarah answered. "Don't tell me this is because of our mother..."
"You have no idea what she's like, you have no fucking idea... Who do you think she lets her anger onto?" Mark felt his eyes watering, his heart pounded out of his chest.
Sarah tried to console Mark but he smacked her hand away. "Don't you dare touch me." Why is she only now trying to comfort me? She's a little too late for that. He glared at her. "Mark..." Sarah stepped back. "I'm...I'm sorry...But please, don't leave me..."
He couldn't bare to look at her. "I can't... I can't keep living like this. Not here. Not with her." His hands began to shake again. "I don't hate you, Sarah. I really don't. But you weren't there for me when I needed you...So what's the point of me staying?"
Sarah's mouth opened but no words came out. "I have to go." Mark reached for the door handle once more, Sarah moved aside this time; he slammed the door behind him.
A cool breeze brushed Mark's face, ruffling his hair. He took a moment to recollect himself before heading to his car. He didn't bother saying what took him longer than expected, instead he started the engine and drove off.
Not a single word was spoken the entire trip. Mark tried to take his mind off what had happened, yet he couldn't. Maybe I should have told her sooner. Was it really a good idea to leave her there? She might not want to see me ever again after this and I didn't even say goodbye. It got harder to keep his eyes on the road. He nearly missed the street he was supposed to turn to.
Once they arrived at their new place, Mark felt some sort of relief. The building was located in one of the sketchier neighborhoods but it was closer to his high school. "Well, here we are." He unfastened his seat belt and turned to look at Him. "Let's carry as much shit that we can, I think I’ll pass out if I don't get some shut-eye soon." Both of them grabbed what they could and Mark led the way. There was no elevator, so they had to use the stairs. They were lucky that nobody had seen them.
Mark unlocked the door to his apartment. Their new home was a cheap single bedroom apartment with a small living room combined with the kitchen. The first thing that stood out was the wallpaper. Him had already begun to examine everything and it noticed how easily tear-able it was. A weird stench came from it, possibly mold. A lot of the furniture left behind there were in pretty bad shape. One window was their only light source.
"This place is a shithole..." Him muttered to itself.
"I heard that." Mark tried to sound offended but he couldn't stop himself from laughing.
"Listen, this is the best that I can afford, okay? If you wanna go back to that attic then be my guest. I'm going to bed." Mark flopped down onto his mattress.
He changed into his usual sleeping attire and buried his face into his pillow, letting out an exhausted sigh. It's done, this is where I live now. He thought. Him doesn't have to hideout days on end anymore. I mean, if I ever call Cesar over, it's gonna have to hide then. He turned over to look at the window. Faint sounds of falling raindrops filled the room. He peeked over at Him, it was laying on the couch and reading something. It occasionally glanced over at Mark; this didn't bother him. He remembered how it used to watch over him in his sleep sometimes. Especially since that really bad nightmare he had when he was a kid. More memories of Him popped up in Mark's head.
He looked back on one particular moment fondly, although it started out horribly. His mother was drunk, extremely drunk one night. He must have walked in on her at the worst possible time, he got yelled at when he entered her bedroom. Her words echoed in his mind; he might not remember everything exactly but it left him petrified. All he could do is stand there and listen. Struggling to choke back his tears. As he was about to leave, she struck him across the face. It wasn't just a slap; he distinctly remembers how painful it felt. He ran off to his room, locked the door and hid under his bed sheets. Mark heard his bedroom closet opening; the sheets were lifted. Him kneeled down to see Mark trembling. It asked what happened but took one look at his bruised face and its suspicions were right. It slowly pulled Mark in an embrace and he clung on. His tears stained its clothes. The way that it held him, has stuck with Mark for years.
This alternate reassured that it would protect him. And it did just that. It was there for him, comforting him, forming a bond with him. Why would such a creature choose to go against his kind to keep him safe, he had no idea. I don't think Him knows why it's like this either. Mark pondered. He rose up from his bed and Him took notice of that. They both starred at each other.
"Hey, uh...This is kinda awkward as fuck but like, could we- no... Wait." Mark hesitated; he knew he was yearning for that hug again. How am I supposed to ask here? “Uh, I don't know if you remember this but-” He gazed at the floor. “Dammit, nevermind... Forget that I even said anything." Completely embarrassed, he gave up asking.
Him put down its book and chuckled a bit. "Alright..." It said in a mocking tone. "I know you want a hug; you don't have to make it weird..."
"Shut up." Mark crossed his arms. "But yeah, I do want a hug."
Both of them opened up their arms and soon, they were locked in a long embrace. Mark sat on its lap and curled up. He struggled to keep his eyes open, all of his worries pretty much disappeared. "You know, you're actually pretty comfy." When he said that, it held him tighter and closer. That feeling of security was just what he needed, so sheltering, so calming, he let himself fall asleep. Finally, he felt at home.
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crystaljins · 3 years
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Finding Christmas again
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Characters: Taehyung x Reader
Word count: 21K
Synopsis:  After a lifetime’s worth of turbulent and miserable Christmases with your family, you finally make the executive decision to spend this year’s Christmas alone. 
However, when you take home a box of old Christmas decorations from your friend’s shop, it seems that this Christmas is set to be different from the others.  
ChristmasScarecrow!Tae x human!Reader
Notes: Here it is!!! My contibution to the @thebtswritersclub​ secret santa (and also their monthly holiday prompt, Holiday/festival)!!!  And my secret santa is.... *drum roll*....
Hi @pars-ley​​, Merry Christmas!!!!! I hope you enjoy your secret santa!! 
Anyway, I know the premise sounds weird but bear with me!!!! It’s kinda cute, I promise!!
Rating: PG13
Genre: Fluff, angst
Warnings: Mentions of divorce, fighting, alcoholism, depression, mean step-siblings (OC’s family). Mentions of house break-ins, some kissing and some ANGST, santa is real, really poorly explained world mechanics that are kind of glossed over because I’m lazy LOL
For you, the start of the Christmas season is always marked by Seokjin unboxing the stock for his December-long Christmas sales. Any stock from the previous year that didn’t get sold gets lined up along the shelves along with a few new trinkets here and there. He pulls out a series of dusty cardboard boxes, soft and collapsing from age and within are numerous fraying, gaudy Christmas decorations he likes to string around the shop to give off a bit of a “festive” atmosphere. Of course, an overstocked, tacky dollar store can only be so “festive” but Seokjin never seems deterred. 
This year, however, marks a change. You sit amidst towering, overflowing shelves whileJin beams at you over the counter of his tacky dollar store and slides the first of the decrepit and infamous cardboard boxes towards you. 
“If you’re being stubborn and insisting on spending Christmas alone this year, at least put up some decorations.” He insists. Hesitantly, you peer inside- the tinsel has lost some of its magnificent sparkly mane, but it’s still passable and there’s a few tangled lights that you know from experience may have a bulb or two blown but are still somewhat useable. 
“I guess I could,” you reluctantly agree. Your small apartment could definitely do with a little apartment sprucing. “You’re not going to decorate this year?” You question. Jin shakes his head and beams, gesturing to a series of brand new cardboard boxes, freshly shipped. They’re crisp and upright in a way that makes the old boxes look even more soggy and pathetic.
“I’ve done a little bit of online shopping this year and thought it would be nice to freshen up my decorations. And I know you could use some decorations so I knew my babies would be going to a good home.” He announces, positively giddy with delight. Christmas always leaves Jin on the edge of manic. Starting the month off with his birthday and then finishing it off with the entire world decked out in festivities is like giving him a month-long sugar rush. Nothing says festive season like the terrifying sparkle to his gaze.
“Well... thank you, I guess.” You say. You’re hesitant but grateful. You’re not the kind of person who hates Christmas or thinks the grinch was a victim, but it’s always been a season that didn’t ring as joyful for you as it seemed to for everyone else. After all, for you, Christmas had consisted of you hiding upstairs while your parents had screaming matches while they were still together, and then it had been a mix of being picked on by your step-siblings the years you were stuck with your father, and nursing your mother after she’d get drunk over eggnog and cry over her broken family when you spent it with your mother. Perhaps this is your chance to reclaim the season. “I can load these up in my car and then we can get started hanging up your new decorations?” You suggest, as Jin finishes balancing the till. 
Jin nods absently, counting under his breath, before leaning against the counter with a smile. 
“That would be absolutely fantastic. Your santa hat is in my office- don’t forget it!” He reminds you. You groan. 
“Do we have to do this every year? It’s demeaning.” You complain. Jin nods and then ignores your grimacing, returning to counting the day’s takings. 
With a heavy sigh, you take your time loading the boxes into your car, parked out the back of the shop, before ducking into his office. Sure enough, two embroidered Santa’s hats sit haphazardly on Jin’s desk. You tug one over your head and grab the other for him. 
You’re not sure when this tradition of helping Seokjin set up his shop for Christmas began. If you’re being honest, you’re not even sure when you started being friends with him, but this has been a yearly tradition since he started the shop, and the closest you’ve ever gotten to Christmas cheer. Your job is to string out the decorations in the least gaudy manner possible while Jin arranges his Christmas stock on his already overflowing shelves.
Back in the shop, Jin has just finished locking up when you come down the stairs at the back. He turns to you and beams, before gesturing to the boxes filled with new decorations. 
“Time to put that interior decorator eye to good use, (Y/N)!” He cries, clapping his hands enthusiastically together. You wince- it would take a lot more than some Christmas lights to fix the mess that is Seokjin’s shop. Even a professional interior decorator couldn’t fix this chaotic mess. His shop is ten years past a clearance sale.
Still, you walk over and begin to open up the boxes, sorting through the decorations until you come across an older box. You thought you’d loaded them all, but it looks like you’ve missed one. 
“What’s this box, Jin?” You ask, peeling back the lid to find a series of old, musty decorations. Jin pauses in his detangling of some dangling star lights to look over your shoulder. 
“Those are the decorations I put up for sale every year that never seem to go. Even the words “clearance” isn’t enough for people to want them.” He sighs, and he’s surprisingly melancholy as he looks upon the unwanted decorations. You’ve never had much to do with the things he chooses to sell- frankly you’re a little afraid with the things you may find should you venture into the labyrinth of his dollar store. Curious, you peel back the cardboard flap and peer inside at the myriad of unwanted decorations. 
Oddly, it makes your heart twinge a little, to see the stock that has been stuck gatherinf dust for eleven months. As dramatic as it sounds, you know a thing or two about being unwanted. 
Not that your parents ever implied you were unwanted! It’s just hard not to feel that way when you’re born to a couple who want nothing to do with each other. The constant back and forth between your two feuding parents had constantly made you feel more like a “pass-the-parcel” package than a human being.
And when your dad had remarried, he’d always insisted that you were welcome, but it’s not difficult to see how happy he is in his new family. How his stepchildren’s achievements made him smile or how he’d finally achieved the noisy, warm household he’d always dreamed of. The household he never had with you. And now even your mother is trying new things- she’d asked you to come with her to meet the family of her new boyfriend, but you couldn’t bring yourself to suffer through the awkwardness. 
That’s why you’d chosen to spend this Christmas alone- because you can’t seem to shake the feeling that you’re an afterthought when it comes to a holiday that involves spending time with your family. You exist, and you share their blood, but they have plans with people they actually chose to be in their lives. You’re welcome along, but not really wanted. 
Jin watches the expression on your face with mild interest. 
“Do you... want any of them?” He questions tentatively. “They’re a bit gaudy, but you could give them a home?”
You grimace at the ugly decorations- it’s not hard to see why no one wanted them. Tacky, corny baubles and cheap little mantle ornaments that a even a seventy year old grandmother would turn her nose up at.
But despite your general distaste, a tuft of red wool at the corner of the box catches your attention. You reach forward and tug it free.
A Christmas-themed scarecrow toy smiles back at you. Tufts of red, woollen hair peak out beneath his little santa’s hat, and two sewed on black buttons make up his eyes. His mouth is a simple stitched black line, a little upwards curve, and a little paint on upside down triangle makes his nose. He’s dress in a flannel shirt and overalls, but the overalls have a little christmas tree embroidered on the front and his flannel shirt has fluffy cuffs like the ends of a santa shirt. He’s sort of charming, if a little strange- why a christmas scarecrow? What an oddly specific decoration. 
“I can kind of see why no one would want these.” You snort, though you don’t put him back. Jin nods sympathetically. 
“This little guy has been with me for years. All the other decorations I bought with him eventually got sold but this guy is still unwanted.” He admits, taking the scarecrow from your hands to examine it fondly. “I even tried giving him away for free once but they didn’t want him.”
You bite your lip at that. The two button eyes stare up at you longingly, and for some reason you feel a sense of camaraderie with this stupid, gaudy christmas scarecrow. 
If you’re taking a bunch of decorations, why not this guy? He clashes with every instinct you have in terms of decoration, but the thought of him sitting on a shelf, unwanted for a month only to go back in this dusty old box at the end of the year is too depressing for you to handle. With a sigh, you take him back from Jin. 
“Might as well, since you dumped all your other old decorations on me.” You sigh.
And you miss the way Jin winks at the little scarecrow when you’re facing away from it. 
++
You actually forget about the decorations for the next few days. They sit in your car, unpacked. You’re busy with work as they rush to wrap up the end of year projects before their deadlines. And it’s not like putting up decorations has a deadline, right? You put them up some time before Christmas and hopefully remember to take them down before February hits. 
It’s when Autumn finally draws to a close and the first of December hits that you’re finally motivated to put them up. You’re in a deep clean kind of mood and when you duck out to your car to chuck out the various wrappers and old papers you’ve built up over autumn, you recall the boxes in your boot. 
The little Christmas Scarecrow is the first thing you pull out once the boxes are unloaded into your home. The little button eyes gaze up at you mournfully, as if scolding you for leaving him unattended in your car for so long. 
“Sorry little guy.” You sigh, straightening and setting him atop your mantle. He looks a little out of place with your decor but it feels right to place him there for some reason. This way he’s in full view of any guests that walk in. “Here. This can be your spot. Front and centre.” You tell him, and from this spot his button eyes look a little less mournful. With a smile, you begin puzzling out how to assemble Jin’s ratty old Christmas tree. 
You’re in the middle of a youtube tutorial on how to make your tree appear fuller when your phone lights up with your mother’s contact image. 
It takes you a few moments to steal yourself to answer her.
You aren’t on bad terms with your mother or anything. It’s just... for a few years after the divorce, when you probably needed her most, she just wasn’t your mother. And she’s done really well and gotten a lot of help and she’s in a really good place right now, but it’s still hard. It’s hard to talk to either of your parents, really. 
“Hey mum.” You finally say as you answer the phone. You can guess what she’s going to ask- every since she found out you wouldn’t be going home for Christmas, she’s been doing her best to convince you otherwise. 
“I was just at the store this morning,” she greets you. “And I saw all the ingredients for that christmas cake we used to make when you were small. Do you remember? And we always made it snowman-shaped and you’d cry when we’d eat it.”
You smile at the memory- it’s one of the very few fond ones you have on Christmas. When you were a very young child, before whatever your parents had between them went sour. Before life transitioned into hiding upstairs and trying to block out the sounds of shouting and being bounced back and forth between opposite sides of the country because your mother and father couldn’t even handle being in the same city together. 
“I do remember.” You say.
“We could make it!” Your mother urges. “Just think- wouldn’t it be so fun? John has a daughter your age, and she loves to bake! She’s so eager to meet you too- we could-“
“Maybe next year, mum.” You say. “I’m just absolutely slammed at work this year. Besides, I’ll be down for your birthday soon. I’d just rather spend Christmas at home, this year.”
Your mother is silent for a moment. You know she didn’t miss the implications of your statement. When you had first moved out for studying, returning to your parent’s place had been “going home”. Even you’re not sure when avoiding your family for the holidays had morphed into “staying home.”
“I... I’m sorry. I know I keep bringing it up, but I heard from your father that you weren’t going to spend it with him either and I... I don’t like the thought of you alone for Christmas.” She finally says. “I know I’ve failed you in a lot of ways, but I don’t want this to be one of them. John’s wonderful and his family would love to have you. We could make room for you.”
You go quiet for a moment. Your mum is trying her very best. You know that- you know that so well and yet you can’t. You just can’t do it. You don’t have it in you to brave through Christmas with either of your parents and play happy families and pretend that the years of misery didn’t happen. You don’t want a Christmas where people are “making room” for you. You want to have a place that is just inherently yours.
“Next year.” You promise. Next year you’ll have steeled yourself. Next year you’ll have it together. Next year you can try again. Next year you’ll be a little stronger and more resilient and then you can face the mess of your broken family.
Your mother sighs on the other end, in a sad, disappointed sort of way. 
“Next year.” She finally says, and there’s a promise in her words. Next year she’ll be better too. She’ll keep trying. 
You stay on the phone a little longer, and when you hang up you just spend a moment in your empty apartment. Boxes are sitting, strewn around you and currently the only decoration is your little Christmas Scarecrow. 
Oddly, he almost looks judgemental as he peers at you through the buttons. 
“Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh, getting to your feet and beginning the process of organising the Christmas decorations. “It’s complicated. You don’t know my mum and I know she loves me and I know she’s trying... but it’s... it’s just complicated, ok?”
You continue to ramble as you finish up your decorations. It’s quite therapeutic, talking to an inanimate object. It almost feels like he’s listening- there’s something warm in the little stitched mouth and button eyes. You and your scarecrow, both unwanted on Christmas day. You tell him about your parent’s divorce, about your past Christmases. About Jin and your friendship with him. About your decision to be alone for Christmas this year because neither of your parent’s offers seemed particularly appealing. 
By the time you’ve finish, your apartment actually looks decent. The Christmas tree sits in the corner, decorated with baubles covered in chipped paint and balding tinsel. There’s lights strung across the ceiling and across your mantle and maybe there’s one or two missing spots, and maybe it’s just a little tacky, but it’s warm. It’s home. You’ve carved out a little home for yourself in this apartment, and maybe it’s not perfect, but you like it. 
When you fall asleep on the couch, exhausted, you dream of ringing sleigh bells and cheerful Christmas tunes. 
++
You awaken suddenly. Your heart is in your throat. 
There’s someone in your apartment. You can hear them rummaging around in the kitchen. You don’t know how they got there, but terror fills you. 
The first thing you do is discreetly reach for your phone. You want to call the emergency number but you don’t want the intruder to know you’re awake in case they retaliate. Instead, you shoot a text to Jin. 
There’s someone in my house. You text. The response is almost immediate. 
I’m on my way. He responds. You resist the urge to groan. You’d told him so that he could call the police, not so that he could play hero. 
You roll off the couch and sneak closely to the wall. A metal bat rests there- a housewarming gift from Namjoon when he first learnt you’d be living alone. You never thought you’d have to use it. You never forget to lock your doors and surely no one has the guts to scale a building and come in through your balcony, right?
Still, you’re grateful for it now as you grip the handle tightly between both fists. 
Hesitantly and quietly, you inch towards the kitchen. The light is on and you can make out a figure bustling inside. 
With a cry, you rush forward, swing the back in a downwards arc. 
Only for your terrified intruder to whip around and catch the bat with the palms of his hands. Ignoring the fact that he just caught the full swing of a metal bat without flinching, you try and pull your bat back to tru for another swing. 
But he merely tightens his grip on the bat and this gives you time to take in his appearance. 
There’s a lot of striking things about the man’s appearance. Bright, brilliantly red hair, the colour of Christmas ribbons and raspberries, a straight, prominent nose. A sharp, well-defined jawline and two warm, dark eyes, almost familiar in their dark shade. 
It’s hard to know what to take in first. His startlingly handsome face, his brightly coloured hair, or his outlandish outfit. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone look cute in tacky, Christmas themed overalls or a flannel shirt that’s an odd mix of a Santa’s hat and a farmer’s uniform. Complete with the Santa’s hat and the bright red hair, the man could almost be twins with your Christmas Scarecrow. 
“Who are you?” You demand. You attempt another futile tug on your bat, but the man’s grip is firm. 
“Don’t panic, (Y/N)!” He urges. His voice is deep and velvety but edged with a little terror. Your eyes widen. 
“How do you know my name?” You demand. If you weren’t afraid before, you are now. 
“Seokjin said it! In the store, a few days ago!” He cries, still pressing firmly against your metal bat. Despite you pressing your whole weight into it, it doesn’t budge a centimetre closer towards him. 
“So you’re a stalker?” You cry. 
“No!” He counters. “It’s me, (Y/N)! The scarecrow!”
That startles you enough to relax your grip on the metal bat. He senses the lapse in your grip and tugs the metal bat free. He holds it away from you and approaches you slowly, cautiously. 
“I was just making you some hot chocolate.” He says slowly. “You seemed sad after your phone call with your mum and I wanted to comfort you.”
He’s crazy- a crazy guy has broken into your house and has been listening to your conversations for who knows how long, and has been stalking you before that. 
“How long have you been stalking me for, you psycho?” You demand. His eyes widen in horror. 
“I’m not a stalker!” He insists. “I’m your scarecrow- turn around and I can prove it!” 
“What? So that you can stab me while my back is turned?” You demand. You make a grab for the bat. “Get out of my house!”
He manages to throw the bat backwards and grab both your shoulders as you lunge for him. With impressive strength he presses on your shoulders and spins you around. In the same motion, he shoves you forward a few steps and you stumble to re-gain your balance. 
Enraged and terrified, you whip around, ready to retaliate.
Only, he’s gone. Where a weird red-haired man previously stood, your kitchen is now empty. 
The counters are scattered with objects- your milk is out, and an open tin of cocoa, a few of your spice jars are laid neatly next to the pile of pots. 
And, sitting neatly where the man had been not a moment before, is your little Christmas Scarecrow. He smiles up at you, button eyes gleaming like he knows something you don’t. 
You can’t help it- you crumble before it. The post-adrenaline crash hits hard and you stare dumbly at the embroidered smile for a moment. 
“It’s a dream.” You finally conclude to yourself. “This is some messed-up nightmare and tomorrrow this haunted scarecrow can go right back to Jin’s store.” 
You grab it and hold it at a distance, your arms outstretched like it smells bad. 
“This is fine.” You assert. “It’s a dream. Just. Just go back here. And I’ll go... run into a wall or something. And this will all be some sort of fever dream.”
You settle the Christmas Scarecrow back into its rightful spot on your mantle, before turning around. You take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself to run full speed at the wall just opposite. 
“‘Haunted’ is a little much, don’t you think?” The same velvety voice from earlier asks, and you turn to find the very same intruder leaping off your mantle onto the ground. “I’m not a ghost, or anything.”
He comes to stand in front of you, arms folded and lips pulled into a frown. Looking upon him now, you see the similarities to the Christmas Scarecrow- even the loose thread in the embroidered tree of his overall pockets is identical. It... it really is your Christmas Scarecrow, standing before you in human form. 
You nod to yourself, a peaceful wave of acceptance washing over you and- 
No wait, never mind. That wave is nausea- you’re blacking out.
++
When you come to, you’re arranged neatly on your couch with your scarecrow hovering over you. You almost want to faint again, but you hold strong. 
“You’re awake!” He cheers, waving a damp towel around. He’s been dipping it in a bowl of cool water and pressing it against your forehead and you flinch as his actions send icy drops over water scattering across your face. 
“And you used to be a scarecrow.” You grumble, sitting up. You squint and lean in closely, taking in every detail. Each mark on his skin, each strand of bright red hair, the smooth curve of his smile... it’s so human. Probably the most ethereal and beautiful human to walk the planet, but still human. One of his eyelids is a monolid and the other is a double lid and one of his front teeth is just slightly longer than the other and yet the effect is that he’s just so charming. Far too beautiful to be sitting in your tacky, poorly decorated apartment and far too beautiful to be spending most of his time as a cringe-y christmas-themed scarecrow that Jin probably fished out of the bottom of a clearance basket at a thrift shop and thought he could get away with re-selling. “You have maybe thirty seconds to explain before I call the police. Or an exorcist. Or both.”
He holds up his both his hands in surrender.
“Wait. Please.” He pleads. The desperate way he says the words makes you pause. Honestly, the sane thing to do would be to kick him out. Leave the weird, haunted scarecrow out on the street to fend for himself and go about your days as if this particular little supernatural incident never occurred. 
You sigh. 
“Just... please tell me what’s going on.” You finally say. “I won’t do anything drastic, but at least explain.”
Relied and gratefulness shines in his eyes and he clasps your hands gratefully between his own. Your attention is momentarily caught by the way his large hands dwarf your own. The bony prominences of his knuckles catch your attention- they shift and glide beneath his skin as his grip around your hand tightens. For some reason, the tiny action seems huge. You lift your gaze slowly to meet his eyes, which are round and warm. 
“My name is Taehyung.” He explains. “And I’m a Christmas Spirit.”
“Christmas Spirit?” You echo in bewilderment. Taehyung nods eagerly and sits forward. He pulls his legs together so that he can sit cross-legged and wraps his hands around his ankles. 
“Yup!” He says, and he’s surprisingly nonchalant despite the supernatural implications of his statement. “We’re beings that come about from the magic of the season. And our job is to spread Christmas cheer to whoever welcomes us into their home.”
As if that’s just a normal thing that someone can spring on you and not expect you to panic! Yet he announces it like he’s a five year old excited to explain the drawing he made of you in school that day. All you can really manage is to nod mutely for a moment. Despite the absurdity of his words, it certainly sounds like what you had done- taken a tacky, unwanted Christmas decoration and welcomed it into your home. 
“And that’s you, (Y/N).” He says warmly, and the way he says your name is so fond. Like you’re his oldest, most valued friend. It startles you- you don’t think you’ve ever had the syllables of your name pronounced with such care, like they are a precious gift. “You are the first human to ever welcome me into your home. All my friends eventually found people to take them, and I’m the last one to remain. I’ve never gotten to fulfil my duty, not even once.”
“Why not?” You croak out. Why was there a random little christmas ornament in Seokjin’s store that held this kind of power? Why did it end up with you? Who was this mysterious man in your house, gazing at you like you’re the best thing to ever happen to him?
“Well, it’s probably not hard to tell.” He admits, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck and then adjusting the santa’s hat atop his head. “Not many people want a Christmas-themed Scarecrow for a decoration. At least not around here.” He sighs. But then he turns to you and his gaze is bright. It’s a little blinding, his mega-watt smile, and it’s certainly overwhelming to have the full force of it directed at you. “But you gave me a chance! You took me home!”
“So... you spread Christmas cheer for me? What does that even mean? What happens when you finish?” You say, leaning back just a little to give yourself room to breath. His scent fills your nostrils and it’s overwhelming. A pleasant mix of christmas scents- gingerbread, cinammon, peppermint. It sits thick in the back of your throat like the pleasant burn of a hot, sweet drink. 
He looks surprised at the line of questioning and a frown replaces the warm, glowing look he’d borne just moments earlier. 
“Well, I’m not sure. I suppose when I finish then you put me away for a year or you pass me on to someone else.” He admits. “This is my first time, so I’m still learning the ropes.” He’s a little sheepish as he admits it. But then his gaze lights up again and he pulls himself up onto the couch so that he can sit shoulder-to-shoulder with you. “But spreading Christmas cheer is just helping you enjoy the season! You haven’t had a great experience with Christmas, right? I can help!”
You stiffen as you recall earlier that day; you had essentially aired all your dirty laundry to what you’d thought was an inanimate object. Taehyung now knew more about you than even some of your closest friends did. You’d unintentionally opened up and made yourself vulnerable to some guy you hardly knew. The thought has you recoiling. You’re not against the idea of opening up- certainly when people ask the right questions, you’ll answer honestly. But people rarely ask and you’ve never volunteered. No one has has access to every dirty detail like Taehyung now does. 
And for some reason that thought has you terrified.
“I’m... I don’t mean to burst your bubble, Taehyung.” You volunteer quietly. Taehyung stiffens at the tone of your voice. “You seem like a nice enough guy. Or spirit. Or scarecrow. Whatever you are. And I hope that one day you’ll find someone you can give lots of Christmas cheer to. But I didn’t sign up for this. I don’t want any of it- the “Christmas cheer” or the festivities, or anything. I’m just...” you inhale deeply. “I’m just trying to make the most of what I have.” 
You get to your feet, your back facing him. 
“You can stay the night, but I’ll take you back to Jin in the morning. I’ll see if I can convince any of my friends to take you, if you like.”
A slight tug on the sleeve of your jumper stops you from leaving. You glance down at your wrist. Taehyung has just the tip of your sleeve, pinched between his fingers. It’s not enough pressure to stop you from leaving. The slightest tug would liberate you from his grasp and you’d be free to go back to your room. 
“No one else will.” He admits quietly. There’s a sort of heart-aching tone to his voice that makes that tiny grip feel like he’s handcuffed to you. “I waited for five years in that store. I’d sit in a box for eleven months of the year, and hope that this year would be the one someone chose me and every day of December that passed I’d watch people walk right past me. And before that, I was passed around from store to store. People would keep me in the store until they realised I’d never sell and then they’d palm me off to someone else. They didn’t even have the guts to get rid of me. And I’d watch as the objects around me got chosen. They got sent to good homes. But never me. I have waited twenty five christmases for someone to let me in. You’re the first.” He quietly admits. He hasn’t changed or adjusted his grip on your sleeve. Just that tenuous, fragile grip, that little bit of hope that can be snapped at any moment keeps you in place. “Please.” He breathes. 
You stare at his fingers, at the tacky cuffs of his sleeve, at his hopeful, pleading expression. 
You don’t have to do this. He’s asking you, but he won’t force you. You can say no and have the bleary, lonely Christmas you’d originally planned. You can keep pushing everyone away and forever allow Christmastime to be a holiday of heartbreak for you. 
Or you could let this random Christmas Scarecrow and his sparkly, bright eyes into your home.
“Ok.” You finally say. “My work hasn’t shut down yet so I’m gonna be super busy for the next few weeks. But in between you can give it a go.”
The answering smile he gives you in turn has your heart fluttering in anticipation. 
Maybe Christmas won’t be so bad this year.
++
Although you had had every intention of welcoming Taehyung into your home and applying yourself to the festivities as best you could, your workplace dials everything up to eleven over the next few days, just as predicted. Taehyung, to his credit, doesn’t whine or complain. He spends most of the day while you are at work in his scarecrow-form or binging netflix on your account and he spends his evenings stretched on the couch, or beaming at you over dinner. It’s kind of like having a loyal golden retriever to come home to, but maybe with better manners.
It’s actually kind of pleasant. You occasionally catch him humming Christmas tunes and he keeps leaving his Santa hat in strange places but otherwise he’s a rather nonintrusive roommate. He even makes you dinner on occasion and he’s not a terrible cook.
 It’s only as the weekend approaches and you’re contemplating how to spend it that it occurs to you that Taehyung hasn’t left the house once. It’s not like he can just wonder down the street in his scarecrow outfit- it’s not exactly designed to withstand subzero temperature. And you’ve been so slammed at work that it never occurred to you that you’d essentially let the poor guy stay with you and then left him to the equivalent of house arrest.
“Do you do much during the week?” You ask Taehyung across dinner that night. You had quickly learned that he does need to eat and shower and sleep like every human but he can stave it off by staying in his scarecrow form, and so dinner time had just become a shared meal most evenings. He had even waited in his scarecrow form for you to get back on the days you had finished late that week. He pauses through a mouthful of pasta and looks up, cheeks bulging. 
“Not much.” He confesses, after a noisy swallow. “I don’t really have anywhere to go.” He reminds you. 
Guilt churns in your stomach and sours your dinner. You had promised him you’d give him a chance, and yet here you were a week later, making him fend for himself in an unfamiliar and empty apartment with nothing to do but watch netflix and raid your pathetic excuse of a pantry.
“Right.” You sigh, thoroughly chastened. “I... forgot. I’m sorry- work just hit me really hard.”
“It’s fine.” Taehyung dismisses. “It’s my job to entertain you, not the other way round!”
You stir awkwardly at your food, still unable to dispel the guilt.
“Even so... we could go somewhere tomorrow, if you want? I have the weekend off.” You offer as nonchalantly as you can. “If you’re here for the rest of the month, you’ll need clothes. And proper bedding. We can pick that stuff up and then do some other things.” 
He positively beams at your offer and it’s jarring. You aren’t used to such joy at such simple things. It’s so easy to win a smile from him, but rather than make his smiles seem meaningless, it just seems to make them brighter. You’re not used to earning such easy affection for so little and it leaves you unsure what to do with yourself.
“Really?” He questions eagerly. “The whole day?”
You duck your head slightly to disguise your fluster. You’re not even sure why your heart seems to race at his smile. Perhaps because you’ve never seen such a beautiful person smile quite like that. 
“The whole day.” You reassure him. “I can make up for this week- I really didn’t mean to ignore you like this.”
Taehyung shakes his head. 
“Don’t be silly!” He scolds you. “You told me that work would be busy. It just means we have to make your weekend even more enjoyable to make up for a missed week.”
He gets abruptly to his feet, wiping pasta sauce from the corner of his mouth. 
“Oh, I have so much to plan! Can I borrow your laptop? I have to plan our day!” He asks. A little startled, you merely nod at him in bewilderment and he grins determinedly to himself. “Ok! My first day on the job. Here I go.”
He storms off and then performs a quick u-turn. 
“After I clean up my dishes.” He recalls sheepishly. 
The next morning you shuffle into your kitchen a bit bleary-eyed and still in your pyjamas. Taehyung never seems to be tired or grumpy no matter what time of day it is, and so it’s not surprise that he’s up and humming to himself as he cooks breakfast for the two of you. 
He hears you shuffle in the kitchen and glances over his shoulder to smile at you and it catches you off-guard for some reason. You’ve gotten used to him cooking meals, to his singing, even to just his general presence, but you can’t seem to get used to the way he seems to just smile so easily. Something about the way the wintery sun streams in through the windows and catches the tips of his hair and gilding the sharp edges of his handsome face is just ethereal. You can believe he’s not a human in that moment- he’s too gorgeous to be one.
“You’re up!” He cheers. You shake your head to try and rid yourself of your strange thoughts and shuffle forward to scrutinise the breakfast he’s preparing. 
“I’m making a Christmas classic.” He informs you when he notices you attempting to peer over his shoulders. “At least, according to her.” He gestures to your ipad on the counter, where he has one of those food blogs run by stay-at-home mums that write essays on their blogs instead of the actual recipes. This one seems to have a picture of tacky santas made from pancakes and whipped cream. 
Looking at Taehyung’s progress so far, it actually looks fairly similar to the picture, but that’s not saying that much considering the quality of the picture. 
“Isn’t that like cannabalism for you? Isn’t eating Santa basically eating your coworker?” You point out. Taehyung laughs, a full-bodied laugh that makes his eyes curl up into little crescent moons. 
“He’s actually my boss more than my coworker. But he loves Santa-themed decorations. He says it makes him feel jolly.” He tells you. 
There’s a lot to unpack there and so you choose to ignore it by occupying yourself with the cleanup. 
“So I was thinking that we can get some clothes for you today and maybe some other necessities if you’re going to be staying here all month.” You inform him. Taehyung nods distractedly, gently nudging one of the santa pancakes onto a plate. He reaches for a bowl of blueberries, arranging them into eyes and then spraying whipped cream in the shape of a beard. It kind of seems like he’s not very interested in your schedule for the day.
“Tadaa!” He exclaims, showing off his creation. He then reaches for a blueberry and pops it in his mouth. “They’re not bad for frozen fruits.” 
“Looks great.” You praise him. “But the plan for today-“
“(Y/N).��� Taehyung cuts you off. He looks a little stern, but there’s still a warmth to his expression that softens the harsh edges. “I told you I’d plan today. It’s my job to make your Christmas season enjoyable. I’m not here for you to babysit- got it?”
Chastened and surprised, you nod meekly. He grins. 
“Good. Now open up.” He says, brandishing a blueberry menacingly between his fingertips at you. Your eyes widen.
“But Tae-“ you protest, and he’s shoved the blueberry into your mouth before you can finish your counterargument. This time, when he smiles, it’s a little smug.
“No “buts”.” He sighs. “Just sit down and enjoy breakfast and trust me. We can pick up some
clothes since the Christmas overalls are a bit weird, but after that, then I take over. Ok?” He demands, and you chew through the blueberry, a little disconcerted.
“Ok.” You finally agree reluctantly. 
Breakfast is a peaceful affair, with the two of you enjoying the pancakes. Cleaning up with Taehyung is almost domestic- there’s something pleasant about having him stand shoulder to shoulder with you, drying the dishes as you wash them. 
Outside is a frigid affair- it hasn’t quite hit the point where it’s snowing outside, but temperatures are definitely creeping lower and lower and Taehyung nearly glows blue in the short sprint to your car. You fix it by blasting the heater the second the two of you are safely secured in the vehicle. 
“So, if you’re planning the agenda for today, what are we doing after we grab you some clothes?” You ask conversationally. Taehyung pauses from where he’s flicking through your phone, scrutinising your spotify playlist like he’s studying it for an exam. He looks up, his eyebrows still furrowed in concentration. 
“Well, I called in a favour from an old friend and booked us a free Christmas bauble painting workshop.” He announces, looking pleased with him. You squint at him and grimace just a little. 
“I don’t know if you know this, Taehyung, but I am terrible at drawing. I’m so bad that in highschool all these kids signed a petition to ban me from it.” You say, completely serious. He stares at you, bewildered for a moment. 
“Surely it can’t be that bad?” He wonders aloud. You just shake your head grimly at him.
One shopping trip later, Taehyung discovers that it is, in fact, that bad. 
“What did Rudolph ever do to deserve this?” He questions in abject horror. You feel your cheeks heat as you curl your hands protectively over your glass bauble. 
“It’s not that bad!” You insist. And then you hesitate. “Is it?”
Taehyung pries your fingers back to expose your masterpiece- splotchy brown paint, sparkles, and a lovely dollop of red paint in the centre. 
“(Y/N).” He says seriously. “It looks like someone walks into Santa’s stable, massacred all the reindeer and then scattered glitter over the scene of the crime.”
You squint at your painting, and, depressingly enough, his description is more accurate than what it’s meant to be. It was meant to be Rudolph, smiling happily through the glass of the bauble. 
“Forget it.” You snap, setting the glass bauble down and moving to get up. “This is stupid, anyway- we still have to pick up a mattress protector for your bed.”
“Wait!” He laughs, grabbing at your sleeve before you can make a hasty retreat. A firm tug from his has you landing back in your seat, face to face with the awful paint spill you call a painting. “I’m sorry! Just relax, ok? This is supposed to be fun.”
“I’m not having fun.” You sniff. “I told you I wasn’t good at painting and now you’re laughing at me.”
Taehyung winces. 
“Well... it’s not totally unsalvageable.” He finally compromises. He picks up the bauble, examining it for a moment. And then he picks up the paintbrush, and with quick, precise strokes of his paintbrush, he morphs the brown splotch formally known as Rudolph into a sort of sleigh-shape, and the red-splotch is rounded into the curve of Santa’s belly. “There.” He says, satisfied. You blink in wonder at the new creation. It’s still a little ugly and a little streaky, but it definitely doesn’t look like someone went on a Christmas-killing spree. “How’s that? Now you just have to decorate the sleigh an add sparkles. Surely you can’t mess that up.”
“You underestimate me.” You deadpan at him, and to your surprise, he snorts with laughter. A couple of the other people painting baubles glare at you, and Taehyung merely offers them a merry grin. 
“There used to be an elf like you at Santa’s workshop. No matter what he did, he’s somehow always mess up painting the toys.” Taehyung recalls, shaking his head fondly. “The two of you would get along.”
It’s the second time he’s mentioned it, and this time you can’t keep your curiosity at bay. 
“So... does that mean you’ve met with Santa? The Northpole and all that is a thing?” You ask. Taehyung nods. 
“It sure is! It’s where all Christmas Spirits grow up. We get raised there and taught about the best ways to spread Christmas cheer and then we get sent out to spread the cheer.” He sighs warmly. “I was top of my class.”
You grimace as you picture it. Dozens of Christmas Scarecrows, sitting at tables, studying books on how to paint the perfect Christmas bauble. 
“And so you just... get kicked out after a certain age? They raise you and send you out to sit on a shelf for eleven months of the year and then follow silly Christmas traditions for the last one?” You question him, and for a moment you’re horrified by the loneliness of such an existence. “Wouldn’t you... just get sick of Christmas? Spending your life only ever being in Christmas mode?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Taeyung reminds you as he sprinkles glitter over his painting of a snowman. He doesn’t seem particularly bothered by the idea, but you feel like he’s slapped you. “This is my first official Christmas on the job, remember? I haven’t had a chance to get sick of it yet.”
That makes you go silent. 
Taehyung seems to pick up on the way the mood has shifted. He stops detailing the buttons of his snowman painting and glances at you. Your eyes are wide and slightly misty.
He’s never felt particularly sorry for himself. Sure, the many years he’s spent gathering dust on a shelf have been lonely. He missed his friends, and all he could ever dream of was getting to sit on a mantle as he watched a family enjoy Christmas. That would be the closest he’d ever get, and that’s been his dream for so long. 
But for some reason, with you looking at him like that, the ache that he’s sought so hard to push down resurfaces. It’s like a damn breaking; it’s soothing. To have someone look at him and actually be acknowledging how hard and lonely and painful what he went through was. 
“I’m ok now.” He reassures you, though his voice is a little hoarse. The sheen to his eyes is a little less brilliant, and your heart aches for him as you process the twenty-five year wait that Taehyung has endured. “After all, someone welcomed me into their home, right?”
You blink- that someone is you. You’ve welcomed Taehyung into your home. Christmas is perhaps even lonelier for Taehyung than it is for you, and yet all he seems to want to do is make it enjoyable for you. 
You duck your head, distracting yourself by stirring the tip of your paintbrush in the bright red paint. 
“I guess so.” You finally say. You offer him a tentative smile. “I guess I have a responsibility to make this your best Christmas ever, then.” You resolve. 
Taehyung is silent for such a prolonged moment that you’re forced to face him again to ensure he hasn’t died. When you do, what you find is him gaping at you like a Christmas tree just sprouted from between your eyebrows. 
“What?” You question, a little defensively. It’s hard to interpret the look on his face. 
He shakes himself, coming back to his senses. 
“Nothing.” He reassures you. “I just realised that you’re a bit rare to smile, is all.”
Something about the look in his eyes has you feeling flustered- your fingers tremble enough that you knock over the glitter and it spills across Taehyung’s newly bought trousers. You get up quickly, horrified, but he laughs it off. 
“I think we’ve done enough damage to these baubles.” He says with a warm smile. “We still have things to buy, right?”
The rest of the day passes in a blur. Taehyung drags you from store to store, excited by the smallest things. He stares at a Christmas-themed hot chocolate for so long that you end up having to buy it for him. The look of gratefulness in his eyes is unparalleled and almost makes up for the fact that you literally have to plead with him to buy actual clothes and not just ridiculous Christmas Sweaters. In the evening, you wonder the shopping district, appreciating the lights that line the main street in brilliant arrays. 
When you slump down on your couch beside Taehyung that night, showered and ready for bed, you’re exhausted to the bones. Oddly, it’s not the same kind of tiredness you feel after a long week at work or after you’ve had a long argument with your mother. Instead, it’s a satisfying fatigue- like you’ll drift off quickly and dream of christmas lights and children’s laughter. 
“How did I do for my first day?” Taehyung yawns from where he is sprawled on the couch in a similar position to you. 
“Good.” You say, turning your head to glance at him. The dim light of your living room softens the slope of his nose, and his dark eyes catch flashes of the light that makes it seem like his irises are tiny little galaxies. There’s something so inherently peaceful about the warmth of his presence beside yours .
“I’m glad.” He says, though his lashes flutter and you too find yourself fighting off the comforting waves of sleep. He shifts and turns his head so that his cheek rests against the couch and he gazes at you. “Hey (Y/N)?” He calls gently. 
Your eyes are closed by this state. 
“Hmm?” You hum, in acknowledgement of his statement. He’s quiet for a moment before he ask.
“Why did you want to spend Christmas alone?” He asks. You blink open your eyes and look back at him. His gaze is steady and unwavering. But it’s not scolding or judgemental- instead he just seems curious. 
“You told me about your parent’s divorce and all their fighting on Christmas... but I heard the way you spoke to your mother on the phone too. You want to spend Christmas with her, don’t you? You just... can’t?” He asks. “You said you didn’t want the Christmas cheer... but you still took me home and decorated for Christmas. You painted the baubles and drank the hot cocoa and did the Christmas shopping... why do you pretend to hate it all?”
If it were anyone else, you would probably stop the conversation there. You have no interest in delving into your long, complex family history only to be met with looks of confusion, or worse, pity. 
But somehow, in the short space of a mere week, Taehyung has become someone you feel safe opening up to. Perhaps it’s because he’s already heard your whole story already. Or maybe because of the way he genuinely just wants to see you smile despite there being no substantial gain for him other than job satisfaction. Or because he’s proven himself trustworthy in the little ways he’s slotted himself into your life, like sharing meals. Whatever the reason, you don’t clam up like you usually do. 
“I don’t pretend to hate it.” You tell him softly. “I just got sick of trying to love it.”
Taehyung is silent for a long period of time. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, exhausted and sleepy. The weight of your confession hangs in the air, and the moment is strangely intimate. 
Then he smiles. 
“Then I’ll keep trying for you.” He promises. 
The two of you don’t manage to stay awake for much longer. Eventually the long day catches up to you- you drift off first, with one of those rare but peaceful smiles on your face, and Taehyung follows suit soon after.
++
The week that follows is one of the worst you’ve had in a while. You’re putting in ridiculous amounts of overtime and everyone is a little on edge from sheer exhaustion and the mounting stress of deadlines. 
And in that time, Taehyung is honestly a lifesaver. It’s remarkable, being able to come home from another hellish day at work to find him with dinner ready and a crappy Christmas movie set up. You spend your evenings laughing and unwinding. It’s not like you don’t have friends who will come rushing if you tell them you’ve had a bad day, but there’s something special about the way Taehyung does it. With bright smiles and easy laughs and an infectious joy that seems to chase the fatigue that plagues you away. 
It’s towards the end of the week that you hit your limit. You’re not really the type to cry much. You’ve always been fiercely independent, and your upbringing meant that you were the kind of child to retire to your room and work things out for yourself when you felt the need to cry. It’s not like crying ever really achieved anything. Maybe the occasional sad scene in a movie would get you, but usually you’re the kind to feel sad internally.
But after this particular day, you’re close to tears. Your boss had yelled at you, one of the major projects you had been working on just hit a major snag, and you found out your favourite coworker was leaving. 
All you can thing about as you walk in the door is spending another peaceful evening with Taehyung. You’ve been thinking that maybe it’s time to expand his taste past cheesy Christmas movies and had even made a list of films he may like during his lunch break. You swing open the door to your home, eagerly rushing in and calling out to Taehyung so that he knows you’re home. 
And that’s when your phone goes off. 
It’s your father, probably the last person you want to talk to right now. 
Unlike your mother, who at least was trying to make up for the ways she’s screwed up in your upbringing, your father has never acknowledged his part in their divorce. It was always what your mother did wrong, how she let him down, how it was because she changed and wanted different things. He was the kind of man who always wanted a big family, and he had adored your mother at first. But her pregnancy with you had been difficult and you had, admittedly, been a sickly child. She’s never outright said the words, but you suspect postpartum depression might have played a part in her downward spiral. Either way, she had resolved to have no further children after you, something your father was heavily against. 
You suppose it can’t have been easy- your father had been in love and the two of them had agreed on the kind of future they wanted together- the kind filled with children, a quiet suburban life not far from either of their parents. And for your mother to change so suddenly and drastically would have been devastating and incomprehensible to your father. 
Still, you can’t help the resentment and hurt you feel towards him. Why did you have to get caught in the crossfire of his heartbreak? And then the icing on the cake was his remarriage. 
His wife is a lovely woman. Coming into the marriage with three children of her own, she had treated you with the same love and kindness she expected of your father towards her children. Her children, however, were not bound to such conduct, and made it their personal mission to make your life a living hell. Perhaps they felt insecure over the fact that your father was related to you by blood and they weren’t.
Either way, it put him in a difficult position- perhaps he felt he couldn’t tell them to back off without it coming across as favouritism. But he could have done something- spoken to his wife, or chosen you before the family he married into. But he didn’t. He ignored it and turned a blind eye and to this day he continues to pretend that things are normal. Especially after the birth of your half-sibling.
“Hi.” You say, as you answer the phone. Taehyung has stepped into the entryway with you, watching curiously as you answer the phone. 
“Hi sweetheart!” Your dad calls on the other side of the line. You wince at the unwelcome nickname.
“To... to what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask. You can hear a loud racket in the background. Its probably your half-sister. She’s always been on the louder side, even as a baby. 
“Nothing! I was just thinking it’s been a while since we last chatted. You haven’t been returning my calls.” You have no doubt the sadness in his voice is genuine, yet somehow it feels insincere. 
“I’ve just been really busy at work.” You lie, rather than admit you had seen the missed calls from him and not even bothered to listen to the messages he left. “I haven’t had a chance to call you back.”
“Right... right. No, that’s fine. I’m sure your very busy.” He rushes to reassure you. “I was just calling because your mother contacted me. She was hoping I could convince you to spend Christmas with us.”
You stiffen at the familiar topic. You had thought it had been a little too quiet on her end. Perhaps she had thought that if she couldn’t convince you to come home, maybe your father could. She’s always had this idea in her head that maybe you aren’t close to her because you prefer your father, and it’s not like she can handle having a long enough conversation with him to find out she’s wrong. It’s surprising she even managed to let him know your plans for Christmas. 
“It’s fine. Like I told mum, I’d really much rather spend it here this year. Besides, I thought you all were going away for Christmas this year? We already spent Christmas together last year.” You say, pointedly trying to remind him that Christmas isn’t even a yearly thing with him. He does the contractual every-second-year with you, and then plans fun events with his family on the years he isn’t stuck babysitting. 
“That’s true. But that’s why I’m calling! It took a bit of convincing, but there’s a spot on this trip with your name on it, if you want it.” He tells you. He almost sounds excited, like he’s really done something thoughtful and kind. Not just made some last-minute attempts to shoehorn you in. The invite hadn’t been there to start with, after all. It’s only as an afterthought that he’s made any attempt to add you in- a chance to pretend like things are good. Like the two of you aren’t on rocky terms the rest of the year. Like you’re close enough to go on holidays with your stepfamily. 
“I think I’m fine dad.” You finally say. Taehyung is watching the expressions play across your face with mild curiosity. He probably can’t hear your father’s voice on the other line, but he can see the anger on your face, and hear the wobble to your tone. “You have fun on your trip. I’ll make do here.”
There’s a beat of silence and you hear your father sigh. You grimace- that’s his pre-scolding sigh. The sigh he gives before any lecture he thinks you’ve earned. As if he has any parental claim to scolding you. 
“(Y/N),” your father begins. “It’s Christmas. Don’t be like this- you should be spending time with your family-“
“I did.” You cut him off, and you surprise yourself with the way tears fill your eyes. You squint, trying to keep them at bay. Taehyung watches with alarm as he registers the way you are on the verge of crying. “I spent every year. With you and mum. And then you and then mum and then you and then mum. I tried for so. damn. long. to do the family Christmas thing, but all it ever ended in was the two of you letting me down. Mum was too drunk or you were too busy. And yeah, maybe you guys were going through your own stuff. But don’t you dare try and tell me that Christmas is about family because if that’s what family is, I don’t want it. At least if I spend Christmas alone, neither of you can let me down.” You snarl into the phone line. 
Your father is silent after your outburst. Taehyung watches you, waiting for your response. 
And the tears finally spill forth, rolling down your cheeks. 
“Well, if that’s how you feel, then I won’t stop you.” Your father finally says. He sounds hurt, as if you’re the one who’s hurt him. “I guess we’ll see you in the new year. Your sister’s birthday is coming up and Rachel wants to have a big party since she’s ten this year.” 
“I’ll see you then.” You say, your throat raspy and your voice small. 
You’ve barely hung up the call before two strong arms have wrapped around your figure. You go stiff in Taehyung’s arms. This is probably the first time he’s hugged you, and it isn’t unpleasant. Instead, the scent of gingerbread and peppermint fills your nose and it’s strangely soothing. You shift and turn your head just slightly so that your face is buried into the soft cream of his jumper, one of the fresh purchases from the other day. 
“You can cry if you like.” He tells you, and you feel the words rumble from deep in his chest. “I won’t look.” He promises. “That was painful for me to hear, and it’s not even my dad- if you want to cry, then cry.” His voice cracks on the end of his sentence, and you abruptly realise that Taehyung is crying. He’s known you for just a short couple of weeks, and the only nice thing you’ve done for him is not drop a tacky Christmas Scarecrow back into a box of junk, and yet he’s crying just from hearing your half of a painful phone call. 
Perhaps it’s the permission you need. For all of the long, lonely years you were stuck in the middle of feuding exes, you never gave yourself permission to cry. Instead, you’d retire to your room, pressing a pillow to your ears to drown out the sounds of screaming. 
For a long time, you just stand there, sobbing into Taehyung’s arms. He runs his hands soothingly over the back of your hair, and eventually the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulls you into a sense of peace. 
Taehyung is quick to act from there- before long, you are forcefully seated on your couch with a mug of hot chocolate and a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Taehyung crouches before you, swiping at the tear trails on your cheeks with his thumbs. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks cautiously. You grimace and shake your head. 
“It’s just the same old stuff.” You reassure him. “Long day at work; daddy issues; the usual standard.”
Taehyung smiles and settles himself beside you on the couch, tugging the blanket from your hands so that he can curl under it. 
“Good thing your personal Christmas Spirit is here to save the season.” He whispers conspiratorially. He leans forward towards the coffee table and grabs your iPad, before pulling it into the safe cocoon of your blanket. “I’ve been researching all day! Tomorrow’s your day off, so it’s week 2 of spreading Christmas cheer.” He announces, unlocking the iPad and scrolling through the internet page he has open. 
You nearly choke on your hot chocolate. 
“Taehyung,” you rasp. Your oesophagus is probably blistering as you speak. “That’s a page for date ideas. This stuff is all for couples.”
“We are a couple.” Taehyung answers, confused. He points to himself and then to you. “A couple of people.” And then he grins at you and you realise he was teasing. 
You snort and can’t hold back your laugh. Taehyung’s smile softens and he leans into your personal space. 
“There it is.” He remarks. Wonder fills his tone. “That lovely smile.” He taps the tip of your nose fondly. 
The smile slips off your face at his words. Lovely? Your smile? He thinks your smile is lovely?
A weird, electric feeling fills you at the thought, and you lean away from him quickly before your stupid heart can get any funny ideas. He didn’t mean anything by that compliment. He’s a Christmas Spirit- it’s literally his job to make you smile. You won’t overthink it and ruin this strange but precious arrangement you have going on. 
Taehyung, to his credit, doesn’t look hurt or uncomfortable at the way you’d blatantly pulled away from him. Instead, his smile widens. 
“Good idea. You gotta rest up those smiling muscles for tomorrow or you’ll get a cramp.” He tells you. He then gets up and and stretches, letting out a tremendous yawn. He glances over his shoulder at you with a wink. “Prepare yourself for the best day ever.”
++
Said “best day ever” begins with you staring listlessly up at your ceiling. Taehyung had talked big the night before, promising you a day of fun and enjoyment. 
But you just can’t picture it. You’ve spoken to coworkers and friends before, about the excitement of Christmas. How they see lights or hear carols or even smelling gingerbread triggers this warm, nostalgic and joyful feeling deep in their hearts. But you’ve always felt nothing. Christmas has always been just another day, to you. 
With a sigh, you roll out of bed. 
Out in your living room, Taehyung is fidgeting with your smart tv, trying to get it to play what looks like Mariah Carey’s rendition of “All I want for Christmas is you”. He’s mumbling to himself, and his santa’s hat droops lower and lower on his head. The little white pompom at the end brushes his nose, and the bright red strands of hair that peak out from beneath the cap stick out in every direction. 
Apart from the santa’s hat, he’s dressed remarkably stylishly. That had been a big surprise on your little outing the week before- his impeccable fashion taste. Today he’s wearing a soft, fuzzy red cardigan over a large white t-shirt and tan trousers. 
“The volume’s off.” You inform him. He starts, glancing at you in surprise, before confirming that he has accidentally managed to turn the volume all the way down. “You operate technology like a grandpa.”
Taehyung grins as you take the remote from him, adjusting the volume and selecting the song so that the familiar opening begins to chime through your speakers. 
“You say that like I didn’t catch you yelling at your printer two nights ago.” He chuckles. “Are you ready for our ultimate Christmas adventure?”
He must catch the way your guard goes up, because his smile softens from something amused into something more gentle and comforting.
“Nervous?” He asks. You hesitate, just a moment, before offering a terse nod. 
“Sorry.” You finally settle on. “I just... I’ve tried the “christmas cheer” thing. And it didn’t work Tae. I just feel like... Christmas is just another day.”
“That’s because it is just another day.” He reminds you. “But if you give it a chance, it can be more.”
 You bite your lip hesitantly, and he shakes his head. 
“What if you didn’t think about it like Christmas?” He asks. “How about, today is a day for me to cheer you up after a long week. We’re gonna do fun things and enjoy ourself because we want to. Does that sound doable?”
It does. It’s strangely reassuring and low pressure, and something about his words and the patient, warm light to his eyes puts you at ease. You don’t know why you feel so much pressure about enjoying Christmas but maybe it’s because you don’t want to let Taehyung down. He has so much riding on this Christmas and you don’t want to be the person who ruins Christmas for him. Who makes its a tedious, miserable event like your parents did for you. 
And maybe a small part of you wants to enjoy the season for you. To claim back the years lost to misery and fighting and to share in the merriment that everyone else holds.
“Ok.” You finally agree. “Lead the way.”
Taehyung beams in response. 
First on the agenda seems to be in the park in the centre of your city. Not every year in this place has a white Christmas- some Christmases are just cold and muddy, with a thin layer of ice over dirty pavements. This particular Christmas has been quite frosty, and quite early on- the first snowfall had been earlier that week and now a thick layer of snow coats the ground and clings to thick winter coats. 
“Tadaa!” Taehyung proclaims, waving a hand out towards your first activity of the day. An open carriage, decked out in sleigh bells, and two gorgeous white horses, standing tall and sleek in their crystalline surroundings. 
You creep closer, and their handler spots you. He’s a cheerful man in a formal suit, offset by the bright red santa hat atop his head. He matches Taehyung, who seems reluctant to part with his beloved accessory no matter the time of day.
“You must be (Y/N),” the old man cheers, crowding closer. His horses snort and stamp their feet at his excitement, but he pays them no mind, instead skittering forward to greet you. “Taehyung has told me all about you! Come, get yourself seated and we’ll begin the tour.”
You glance at Taehyung, who merely shoos you encouragingly towards the carriage. 
“How did you afford this?” You hiss at him. He shrugs and smiles. 
“Christmas spirits have connections.” He whispers, before placing a hand on either side of your waist. You smother a yelp as you feel him practically lift you up the first step, and it doesn’t take you much encouragement to scramble onto your seat from there. It’s a vain attempt to distract yourself from the feeling of his large hands encircling your waist. 
“All seated?” Your guide questions. Taehyung nods as he scoots in close to you and that’s really all the warning you get before the carriage lurches forward. 
You steady yourself with a yelp, and an arm around you from Taehyung keeps you upright. You glance at him in surprise and are momentarily caught off-guard by his profile. A thin, delicate smattering of snowflakes has been caught on the breeze and they catch on his hair and lashes. The tip of his nose has gone endearingly red in the cold. 
He turns his gaze when he feels your stare and he grins. 
“Enjoying the sights?” He wonders innocently. You grimace and look away. He merely laughs. “Let me explain to you the logic behind our first activity of the day. First of all, it came as a package with the activity my friend got me for free. Secondly, I thought that it might help you see how little perspective can make the things you see every day so much more special.” He finishes his explanation by pointing an arm across you to gesture at the scenery of the park. He’s right; you’ve seen this scenery hundreds of times, across all seasons, but there’s something special about it in the moment. The warmth of families, covered in thick, puffy jackets, the flutter of chilly snowflakes against your skin, the sheen of frost over the pond on the far end of the park. It’s all familiar and yet in that moment, surrounded by the glimmering sound of sleigh-bells and the stead thud of horse shoes against the pavement, the park you’ve known since moving to this city is different, magical. 
The carriage pulls to a stop beside a crowded pavillion. On the other side, you can glimpse people taking advantage of the outdoor figure skating rink thats set up in the park over winter. 
“Is this our second stop?” You ask Taehyung, as he helps you alight from the carriage. Oddly, though he grasps your hand as he helps you down, he doesn’t release it once you’re on solid ground. Instead, he keeps his fingers wrapped around yours as he waves farewell to the carriage driver. 
“You guessed it!” He congratulates you. “Stop number two; appreciating the fun of winter! Nothing screams winter wonderland like a figure skating rink.”
“Can you skate?” You ask him as he leads you to the skate rental counter. 
“No?” He asks. “But how hard can it be, right? It looked really easy on all the videos I watched in preparation.”
A short while later, you get to bear witness to Taehyung learning just how hard figure skating can be. 
“It’s just like walking.” You attempt to soothe him, all the while wincing at the vice-like grip he has on your hands. “Just keep standing upright.”
“Have I always been this tall?” Taehyung breathes. He’s gone deathly pale, and you don’t think the cold is the reason behind it. “Why is the ground so far away?”
“You can do it.” You urge, still allowing him to cling onto your forearms like he’s about to plummet off a cliff edge and you are the only thing keeping him from certain death. “Come on, Tae.” 
He shoots up straight, eyes widening at the sudden nickname. Unfortunately, it’s the wrong move, because he topples forward, and the only thing keeping him from lying face-down on the ice is you. You’re toppling backwards before you can stop yourself. 
Taehyung yelps and you brace yourself for your head to impact against the hard ice, but it never comes. Instead your head lands in the firm cushion of Taehyung’s palm. Somehow, in the chaos of slipping, he’s landed on top of you but managed to stop you from banging your head. 
You blink open your eyes and for a moment, your senses are overwhelmed with the scent of peppermint and the warm brown of his eyes. He looks just as startled as you are. You feel your face heat and his breath puffs warm against your cheeks, contrasting the chill of the air.
“Maybe figure skating isn’t for me.” He volunteers sheepishly. 
You can’t help but offer a crooked smile. He’s so silly but it’s strangely endearing. He looks surprised at your smile, and it seems that’s the moment he abruptly realises the position you’re in. Quickly, he scrambles off you and helps you into a sitting position. 
“Sorry.” He says glumly. “I thought it would be fun, but clearly I overestimated myself.”
You get to your feet and offer a hand to help him get up. He looks nervously at your outstretched hand. 
“It is fun.” You reassure him. “And it can still be fun. Just hold on to me, and trust me ok?”
Something in his gaze softens and he accepts your outstretched hand. It takes a bit, but with an arm around his chest, you manage to stabilise him between yourself and the wall of the ice-skating rink. 
He peeks up at you through his bright red fringe. His santa’s hat sits lopsided on his head. The smile he gives you this time is different from all the other ones. It’s not as ecstatic or joy-filled. This one is more reserved, almost shy; you feel a bit like you’ve been punched in the chest for some reason when you see it. 
You stretch out your hands again, your hands flat and palms extended skywards, and he place one hand into each of your palms. Even through your thick gloves, your skin feels oddly warm when he holds you. 
Gently, you take slow, gliding steps backwards, while he follows with much smaller, much more jilted steps. 
“It’s just like walking, but smoother.” You explain, and the words are forced through a tight throat. Perhaps the cold is getting to you- that’s the only explanation you can think of for why you suddenly feel so short of breath. 
Taehyung nods, focussing hard on the ice. He gives a big exhale that releases in a huge, cloudy breath, and presses one foot forward. And then the other. It’s not long before he’s gliding along before you. 
“That’s it!” You cheer. “I’m going to let go of one hand now, ok? I can’t keep skating backwards or I’ll crash into someone.”
Taehyung looks a bit fearful, but then he nods with determination lighting his eyes. Slowly, you release one hand and spin so that you’re standing shoulder to shoulder with him. He still maintains a death grip on the hand that’s still grasping his, but he manages to stay upright and not go tipping forward. 
“Ok, here we go.” You say, and you take one step forward, followed by a second, and then a third and before you know it, you and Taehyung are drifting across the ice, albeit slowly and with lots of breaks to allow Taehyung to steady himself on the wall. 
It’s actually quite fun, and relaxing, gliding across the ice like this. Music crackles through the speakers, and the people around you are all enjoying themselves. Surrounded by the bright flurry of December snow, it’s easy to smile and let loose and enjoy the season. 
Eventually, the cold does manage to catch up with you, but Taehyung’s quick to press on to the next scheduled activity before you can feel too sad that the ice skating is over. 
He crowds you off the ice, eagerly urging you forward with a hand planted on either shoulder.
“Hurry! We’re going to be late!!” He informs you. You deliberately slow down at that and he gets so huffy and impatient at your silliness that you find yourself laughing. 
After warming yourselves up with a hot chocolate and some lunch in the warmth of a well-heated cafe, it’s starting to get a bit dark by the time Taehyung leads you to your final activity. He refuses to say what it is- instead he leads you in an increasingly convoluted route on public transport. He gets more and more amused the more unfamiliar with your destination you become, and by the time you step off the bus on the snowy outskirts of the city, you’re starting to think the whole Christmas Spirit thing was an act designed to murder you in a forest somewhere.
Particularly when he claps a hand over each eye, obscuring your vision. 
“Taehyung,” you sigh. “If this is how you’re going to murder me, can’t you at least let me see the knife coming?”
“I’m not going to murder you.” He scoffs, though with gentle pressure, he leads you forward, his chest pressed protectively to your back. “I just want to surprise you.”
“I’m very easily surprised.” You remind him. “I don’t need to be blind in a forest to be surprised. Just give me a box of chocolates after a long day of work or something.”
“Hush.” He shushes you. “Just walk, and trust me.”
You take a deep, inhaling breath and your lungs fill with what has become the calming, warm scent of peppermint and cinnamon. It’s Taehyung, you remind yourself. He’s had plenty of opportunity to hurt you or scam you or even kill you but instead all he’s done is wait eagerly for you to return home and watch tacky Christmas movies with you. 
“Ok.” He says, against your ear, and you shiver at the heat of his mouth tickling the cold tips of your ears. “Are you ready?”
Words fail you for some mysterious reason, so you settle for nodding mutely. 
Taehyung drops his hands from your eyes and it takes you a few blinks to adjust to the sudden onslaught of light. 
What lies before you is a long, brightly lit pathway. Market stalls line the paths, with vendors brandishing their wares. Fairly lights string across the stalls, in various tones ranging from warm-toned white lights to festive blues, greens, reds. Overhead, brilliant archways decorated with marvellous, intricate arrays of Christmas lights mark the path.
“What... what is this, Tae?” You breathe. Your chest hurts a little and this time you’re willing to admit that it has nothing to do with the cold. 
“This is the Annual Christmas Markets.” He announces proudly. “Brought to you by your local council and sponsored by Subway (sandwiches not included).”
You take hesitant, wondering steps forward. You don’t really have any words for the strange, ballooning feeling in your chest. Like your heart is so full it’s about to burst. You feel on the verge of tears yet at the same time you feel free and light and happy. 
“It’s so... pretty.” You say. Taehyung beams and steps in close so that he’s shoulder to shoulder with you. 
“Pretty magical, huh?” He asks you. “I found it on google! Did you know the city throws this event every year?”  
You shake your head wonderingly. 
“I had no idea.” You admit. He tilts his head towards the festivities.
“Then let’s explore!” He cries, tugging you forward with a hand wrapped around yours.
There’s lots to do around the markets. There’s christmas light sculptures scattered around, like a scavenger hunt of sorts. Taehyung’s favourite is the one of a santa formed from wires twisted together, skiing across the snow on a sleigh, two reindeers are standing tall. Your favourite is probably a tunnel of lights, tightly woven together to create an archway as people weave through it- you like the way it turns Taehyung’s bright red hair into brilliant licks of flames, and how his eyes look like they hold the entire night sky within their depths. 
There’s a mulled wine stall, although Taehyung pulls a face at the taste and you have to buy him a hot chocolate to get him to forgive you. 
“I just don’t understand how anyone can dislike Christmas carols!” Taehyung protests across his hot chocolate as the night progresses. You’re nearing the edge of the market stalls, which open up onto a big open space, paved with asphalt and with the snow scraped off it where various families and groups of people are starting to gather. Most of them are in parked vehicles, all facing towards a central stage that hasn’t been lit up yet. 
“If you talk to anyone who works in retail, they just get repetitive after a while.” You explain. “I mean, “Last Christmas” is a good song in theory, but not after the six repeats that played before your lunch break.” 
Taehyung “tsk”’s and shakes his head. 
“I think you just have the wrong associations with the songs.” He sighs. “If you associate it with work and bad things, of course you won’t like it! You have to make positive memories and think of those when you hear the songs.”
The stage lights up ahead of you and a small band starts to take the stage. You gaze at the performers as they prepare.
“Any suggestions?” You ask softly. You surprise yourself, and when you look at Taehyung, he looks a little stunned to. “To make positive memories. What should I think of instead, when I hear those songs?”
He searches your gaze for a moment, and then the corner of his mouth quirks in a little half smile. 
“Follow me.” He urges, leading you across the asphalt towards the stage. You have to duck between parked cars where people have makeshift little dens to enjoy the show from. He brings you to a stop where there’s a bit of a space just before the stage. A few couples have already taken advantage of what is essentially a dance floor. He spins around and pulls you in close. You stumble a little, not expecting the movement, but it seems he was expecting that. He steadies you with a hand against your waist and tugs one of your free arms up to rest on his shoulder. “When you hear this song... you can think about today.” He tells you with a smile. “And about all the fun we had!”
He begins to sway you back and forth in a slow turn. You wonder why his weird Christmas Spirit school taught him how to slow dance. Up on the stage, the singer begins to croon the opening notes of “have yourself a merry little christmas”. You tell yourself its the cold that urges you to shuffle in closer to Taehyung as he sways you from side to side. He’s so warm, and solid. Unbidden, your heart starts to beat a little faster, and when you raise your eyes to meet his, something about the warmth in those dazzling depths has you feeling light-headed. 
“What do you think about when you hear them?” You ask him, changing the subject in an attempt to overcome the strange, overwhelming emotion you suddenly feel weighted with. He spins you out in a twirl, before tugging you back in. 
“Hmm...” he contemplates. “I think about hot chocolates, and snowball fights, and the smell of Christmas trees. And Christmas lights and Christmas bells.” He lists, his gaze hazy as he thinks through his list. It’s a bit of a scary thought, but you could honestly stay here forever, watching Taehyung list the things he loves, being swayed gently in his arms. And then he glances down at you and there’s something so warm and fond in his expression that you feel your face heat. “And I think about your smile.”
A funny thing happens in that moment, after his confession. Your heart goes on strike for a moment- even she seems shocked at the sudden turn of events. And then suddenly the air is electric, and all your senses are just filled with Taehyung. His smell, his eyes, his hair, his warmth... his lips.
It’s a sudden revelation, like being struck by lightening. The look in his eyes seems to thread into your veins, leaving burning trails in its wake. His scent washes into the very bottom of your lungs. You like him. In a very short amount of time, he’s wiggled past all your defences and now here you are, standing in his arms, and you realise you want to stay there. You want to keep seeing his smile and keep spending time with him and you don’t want this Christmas to end. 
The songs draws to a close and you step away from his embrace. He seems to sense your sudden change in mood. 
“Is everything ok?” He asks you and you nod, smiling in a way you hope is reassuring. 
“Yeah. I just noticed how cold it’s getting, is all. Shall we head back home?” You ask. Taehyung blinks and glances around as if he’s just now realising how cold it is. He shivers and steps in close to you. 
“Yeah, you’re right.” He admits. “Let’s head home.” He wraps his arms around you, rubbing his hands up and down your biceps to try and warm you up. “Did you have fun, though?” He asks eagerly. 
“Yeah.” You say, and this time the smile isn’t forced. “Yeah, I did.”
++
A week later, you’re stressed and bustling around the kitchen like a madwoman. 
“Is it golden brown yet or is it just the oven light?” Taehyung wonders, attempting to peer into your oven without opening the door. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just check now?”
Your realisation of your feelings hadn’t changed too much around the apartment. As work for the year finally drew to a close this week, you hadn’t really had a chance to overthink it, and then you’d been busy planning a pre-Christmas dinner upon learning that Taehyung has always wanted to try a family Christmas dinner. You’d insisted upon throwing one despite his protests that he was the Christmas Spirit, not you. Finally, he had relented, and you were keen to return all the memories he had given you tenfold. 
Only a couple of your friends had still been without plans, this late into December. Jin always manages to make time where food is involved, and Dahyun had had to cancel flights back home for the year. She’s also dragging along an old friend of hers, Jungkook, and then Nayeon had invited Namjoon and Jihyo. They’re all good friends of yours, but there’s something about organising a home-cooked Christmas meal that is just inherently stressful.
“The recipe says another ten minutes.” You remind Taehyung in between your attempts to both whip the cream for dessert and finish placing all the appetisers into sufficiently aesthetic containers. 
Taehyung frowns, and straightens. He watches you dance around in a frazzled manner for a few minutes, before catching you by the shoulders. 
“Hey.” He scolds. “I know I said I wanted a Christmas dinner, but not at the expense of your sanity. I don’t appreciate you undoing all my hard work of making you enjoy Christmas.”
You stiffen at the warmth of his palms against your shoulders before taking a deep breath. 
“You’re right.” You finally say. “I’m sorry. I just... I want you to have a good time. I’ve had so much fun these past few weeks and I want you to feel what I feel. I never thought I could ever look forward to something like Christmas, and yet here I am, throwing an entire Christmas dinner.”
“Seeing you enjoy Christmas and smiling like this makes me feel happier than you can imagine, (Y/N),” Taehyung reassures you. “This dinner is just a bonus. I’m grateful for it, but what would make me feel the best is if you’re having a good time.”
There he goes again. He’s remarkably smooth for a strange mystical being that was raised in the North Pole. He’s just so good at making your stomach feel like it’s filled with butterflies and making your heart forget to beat. With a deep, resigned sigh, you nod to him. 
“Ok. I’ll chill out.” You promise, before returning to your preparations in a far more mellow manner. 
Guests start trickling in. Jin just barely manages to avoid a throttling when you see him, after his stunt where he didn’t show up when there was an intruder in your home. It all worked out fine, but it’s always offensive to learn that your friend would leave you to die because he had “an oven emergency”. Jungkook and Dahyun come in bickering over the intricacies over some meme they’d seen, and Jihyo drags in far too much alcohol for the night. 
The night settles into a comfortable sort of atmosphere- people scatter across the living space of your apartment, catching up and just generally enjoying the vibe. Taehyung gets a few probing questions into the nature of your relationship and Jin seems to develop some sort of facial tic with all the eyebrow wagging he’s doing, but otherwise things go smoothly.
At least until it becomes apparent that Jin had taken the liberty of doing some decorating of his own while you were setting up for dinner. 
Namjoon and Jihyo are the first of the victims to the numerous mistletoes Jin has concealed around your home. Luckily, they are dating and so it’s just a quick peck between them to the sounds of laughter and hooting. 
At least until the other attendees realise that if Jin has hidden multiple mistletoes around your home, at any moment they could fall victim to a dreaded mistletoe kiss, with a completely undesired partner. 
From there, things devolve into a terrified, suspicious sort of scavenger hunt. Jin thinks it’s hilarious, watching you all scour the place like sniffer dogs, comfortably reclined on the couch as he shouts out hints that could be true or could be total lies. It’s always hard to tell with him. 
Of course Taehyung, poor, sweet naive Taehyung, had missed the dramatic revelation of Jin’s prank. He had been in the kitchen, dutifully monitoring dessert as it slowly cooked in the oven, and he had only stepped out to check with you when you thought it would be done. 
You feel him tap your shoulder in the middle of combing through your mantle, making sure Jin hadn’t hidden anything amidst the photo frames and decorations that sat there. You jump, surprised, and turn to face him. 
Only for Jin’s screeching laughter to reach you. 
“Victims number 2!” He calls triumphantly. Taehyung looks confused, and you grimace as you finally spot the offending object. A small bit of mistletoe twisted in amongst the tinsel lining your ceiling. You’re not even sure how the madman actually got it there without anyone noticing. 
“Mistletoe!” Dahyun chants, from where she’d been pressed into a corner and snarling at anyone who dared walk close enough to her lest she too fall victim to the mistletoe. “Mistletoe. Mistletoe. Mistletoe.” Slowly everyone joins the chant until your apartment sounds a bit like a cult. 
“Let’s not be hasty!” You plead. “Think about it. If you let me off, then we can all ignore this silly tradition.”
Taehyung, interestingly, has gone very still upon realising the two of you stand beneath a mistletoe. 
“(Y/N).” he calls, audible only to you beneath the chanting. “We can’t leave. It’s a mistletoe- I have to.”
You squint at him. 
“What do you mean? It’s just a silly tradition, why would you have to-“ you begin, before trailing away as it occurs to your that Taehyung is actually not a human. This isn’t two friends caught beneath a mistletoe and talking their way out of a silly tradition. Taehyung is a Christmas Spirit and thus bound to different rules to you. “Oh.” You breathe. “So I have to... do that?”
With a deep blush that nearly rivals the brilliant red of his hair, Taehyung nods. You wince and let your gaze drop. His mouth is a soft pink- one of the first things you’d bought on that first shopping trip had been lip balm after he’d seen you applying your own. He applies it meticulously and his lips are always faintly glossy and soft looking. This close you can count the tiny moles that sit against his skin like little stars, and you feel a little bit like your heart is in danger when you finally draw your gaze back up to meet his. 
His expression is a little hard to interpret, but you don’t let yourself overthink it. You slide your palms up around the back of his neck and tug his mouth down to press against yours. 
Taehyung makes a little surprised noise when you do, and it makes you blush. The smell of peppermint and cinammon is strong but captivating, and you wish you could stay there. You wish you could keep kissing him, but you know it’s wrong.
With a sigh, you pull back. Taehyung’s eyes are round and mystified and the blush sits high on his cheeks. His tongue darts out to swipe his lips and he clears his throat awkwardly. 
“I...” his gaze flickers down and then he averts his gaze quickly. Around you, your friends let out a few wolf whistles before returning to the panicked search for any other offending items. Taehyung’s breathing seems a little faster and you can’t say you’re in much better state. “I just came out to ask you about the dessert.” He finally manages, though his voice comes out a little raspy. You nod, hoping he doesn’t think much of the way you mirror his fierce blush. 
“Right...” you say awkwardly. “I’ll just... go and check on it.”
You dart around him, heading straight for the kitchen. 
When you are there, you take advantage of the lack of other party guests and bury your face in your hands. It was just a mistletoe kiss, it didn’t mean anything and yet your traitorous heart is rioting in your chest, threatening to go on strike. Your mind can’t help replaying the moment- his lips on yours, his familiar, striking scent, the scratch of his ugly Christmas jumper beneath your fingers. The size of this stupid crush is embarrassingly enormous. 
It takes a few moments, but you manage to regain your composure enough to discover that the dessert is very slightly undercooked, which you know Jin will bitch and moan about, but everyone else won’t mind. It’s nothing copious amounts of ice cream or custard won’t cover up. 
When you step out into your living room, it seems the panic over the mistletoes has settled. Jungkook had smothered Jin until he caved and gave up all the locations and now your living room has devolved into a ridiculous Christmas dance party- Jin and Dahyun belt out the lyrics to Last Christmas with absurd amounts of drama and gravitas, and Jihyo and Namjoon are curled up on the couch, murmuring to each other softly. Jungkook has gotten ahold of Taehyung and is currently trying to teach him ridiculous tiktok dances, and all-in-all it’s kind of a dream vibe for a Christmas party. No pain, or fighting, or tears. Just warmth and laughter, and a shared camraderie of the season. 
You find yourself smiling as you finally admit to yourself that maybe Taehyung was right. 
Christmas isn’t so bad after all. 
++
After everyone goes home, you and Taehyung are left to the cleanup. 
It’s a bit awkward, standing shoulder to shoulder after the kiss. His movements are slow and hesitant, like if you move too quickly he’ll get frightened and bolt. But gradually you settle into a kind of rhythm, tidying things up together and you can’t resist asking him about the party. It had been for his sake, after all.
“Did you have fun?” You ask. Taehyung jumps from where he’d been gently working the sponge into a lather and a clang rings through the kitchen. The silence seems more pressing after the loudness of your party. 
“Um... it was good.” He says, though his voice is a little high and squeaky. “I had a lot of fun- your friends seem nice.”
“It’s not really a family dinner.” You admit sheepishly. He pauses and offers you a smile, and the pleasant expression on his face seems to thaw through the lingering ice in the room. 
“No, don’t be silly.” He tells you. “It was everything I could have hoped for. Except for Jin’s interpretative dance to Santa baby. I feel like I could have gone without that.”
You laugh and shake your head, stepping in close to pluck plates off the drying rack and drying them off. 
“This was nothing. Wait till lizzo comes on and then you’ll see peak Seokjin.” You sigh. But then your expression changes and you offer Taehyung a smile. His eyes drop for just a fraction of a second, so quick you think you’ve imagined it, before raising quickly back to your eyes. “I’m glad you had a good time.”
He nods, and hums, still making his way through the pile of dirty dishes. 
“What about you?” He asks. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
You pause to think about it. The laughter of your friends, the silly Christmas carols, the snap of Christmas bonbons.... you did. You really, truly enjoyed yourself in a way you didn’t think you could and it’s thanks to the man before you. The man who patiently waited for you to come home each evening to eat dinner with you, and who dragged you across the city to places he thought you’d enjoy... he’s truly a magical person. 
“I really did. It’s gotten me so excited for the rest of the year, to be honest. Are there any other Christmas traditions we can do? Christmas is almost here, but what about New Year’s? We could do something fun then too.” You suggest. Suddenly the season seems so bright and exciting, and the fact that there’s a whole week and a half left to December leaves you unbelievably excited. 
Taehyung pauses from where he scrapes at a stubborn crumb on your baking tray. 
“What?” He asks, and his voice goes strangely soft, and tentative. You blink- something about his tone makes you uneasy. 
“For after Christmas.” You clarify. “You’ve already got Christmas planned out for us, right? So I can plan something for New Year’s. Return the favour.”
By now, Taehyung has completely stopped cleaning. He doesn’t look at you, and stares straight ahead. 
“There... there isn’t an “after Christmas”, (Y/N).” He confesses. Your heart drops into your stomach. He turns to face you, and for once, his eyes aren’t bright, and filled with joy. They’re dark and miserable. 
“What?” You breathe, trying to speak past the sudden shattering sensation in your chest. “Why... why not?”
“I’m a Christmas Spirit.” He reminds you. “I bring Christmas Cheer and then I go back in a box for the rest of the year.”
You blink- you feel like you aren’t hearing him right, or just not comprehending things. 
“Why? I can just not put you away. Why can’t there be an “after Christmas”?” You urge. You step in close, fighting past the sudden panic in your chest. “How could I just put you back in a box for the rest of the year? That’s crazy! Just, don’t go in the box.”
“It’s not that simple.” He protests. “There are rules, (Y/N). I can’t just ignore them. My job is to make you happy during Christmas and then that’s it. That’s what I was born and raised to do. That’s what I spent 25 years waiting for.”
Your eyes widen.
“But surely there’s another way? Surely you don’t want to be in the box.” You cry. You step in close and grab his hand, pulling it towards you pleadingly. 
“It doesn’t matter what I want.” He says, and there’s a resigned note of finality to his tone. “After Christmas, that’s it. I lose the strength to turn into a human. You can keep my out of the box, but it doesn’t make a difference. It ends on Christmas night.”
That makes you fall silent as you finally learn the full truth. You’d been so busy having fun that you hadn’t thought about what comes next. You’d stupidly let yourself believe that you could just keep having fun with Taehyung. You hadn’t thought about the logistics or the long term of it. You feel like you’ve been slapped. 
Christmas has an end date. 
Taehyung spots the tears forming in the corners of your eyes before you do, and his expression softens at the sight. 
“It’s not fair.” You rasp. Somehow, he manages to pull a smile from somewhere, though it’s tinged with a deep sadness that makes more tears spill forth. He steps in close and pulls your face into his chest. 
“I know.” He soothes. “It is. It’s unfair. I want to... I want to stay. But I can’t.” 
You can’t keep your composure after that, and the sobs come in in full force. 
“I wanted to keep having fun with you.” You bawl, and he just shushes you with a tighter hug. 
“I did too.” He confesses. “But it just means we have to have even more fun until Christmas. Can you do that for me, (Y/N)?” He breaks the hug so that he can gaze into your eyes, smoothing the tears from your cheeks. “Please.” He begs. And you see the way his own eyes are red and moist. 
You want to tell him you absolutely cannot. That if he’s going to make Christmas fun and then leave you at the end, he can leave right now. Before you fall even harder. Before it’s too hard to say goodbye. 
But you’re a fool. A masochistic, lovestruck, weak fool. You can’t look into his eyes and tell him no. Not when you know what this means to him; you can’t take away his first Christmas for selfish reason. 
“Ok.” You finally rasp. “I’ll do it.”
You’re walking off a cliff face with your eyes wide open.
For once Taehyung’s smile isn’t enough to comfort you.
++
Christmas day dawns cold and subdued. The days following dinner had been warm, but quiet. Reserved. Like you both knew a goodbye was coming and didn’t want to acknowledge it. You spend one night curled up in your car at an outdoor theatre, laughing along to some silly Christmas comedy, and another day is spent going bobsledding. You both go through the motions of merriment, but it’s clear that neither of your hearts are in it. It’s hard to be enthusiastic and merry when each precious moment that passes is one step closer to when he turns back into a scarecrow. 
When you step out in the kitchen, Taehyung is making breakfast already. He sees you and smiles. 
“Good morning.” He calls. “Merry Christmas.”
It triggers a pang in your chest as his words confirm that this is truly your last day with him. 
“Merry Christmas.” You yawn, attempting to conceal the way your heart aches by settling into a chair at your table. 
Taehyung scurries over, a plate in each hand. 
“Breakfast is ready.” He declares. He’s gotten quite creative in his cooking- he can now manage a fairly decent semi-scrambled omelette and his bacon is surprisingly crispy. You’re eager to see what he has prepared for Christmas Day.
When he sets it down in front of you, however, you glimpse the Santa pancakes he made that first day. Your face falls. Two familiar blueberry eyes stare dolefully up at you and even the banana smile seems less curved and cheerful. It’s clear Taehyung had been a little distracted making them, because they’re not as carefully put together as that first meal. But the sentiment behind them still stands; that Taehyung cooks for you. He likes seeing you smile and he goes to absurd lengths to get you to enjoy yourself and he has for the entire month of December. He’s come to mean so much to you in such a short span of time- somehow he’s made a season that previously only meant cold and misery become a time of warmth and laughter. And now you have to say goodbye, before you’ve even started. There’s so many adventures the two of you could go on together, and yet you don’t get to. It’s so cruel. You’re alarmed when the tears come, unbidden. 
Taehyung watches the expressions play out across your face, before wordlessly reaching out with the sleeve of his sweater to wipe the tears that fall away. His touch is gentle and his expression somber. He hasn’t even donned his usual Santa’s hat.
“I’m sorry.” You say, in a small voice. “I know I said I wouldn’t cry.”
He shakes his head and smiles, pulling his chair up so that it’s seated as close as possible to you. 
“It’s ok. Just means I have to work a little harder. I wanna see that pretty smile, before I go.” He reassures you. You sniff and scrub at your eyes before staring determinedly at your pancakes. 
“Ok.” You say. “Let’s do this, then.”
Taehyung searches your expression, and you’re not sure what he sees there, but it seems to satisfy him. You feel that the last few days, his smiles had been duller and decidedly less genuine, but this time he hits you with the full force of his dazzling smile.
“First things first, we have to open presents!” He cheers. You frown. 
“But I don’t have any presents-“ you protest, but Taehyung cuts you off with a sharp rush of air through his teeth. 
“Then what’s that?” He questions innocently, gesturing to your ratty Christmas tree. 
And sure enough, beneath it is laden with presents. You stare at it for a long time. 
“I didn’t get you anything.” You finally admit. Taehyung laughs. 
“You enjoying my gifts is the present.” He says dismissively, before crowding you towards the tree. “Anyway, it’s a universal Christmas tradition to open your presents after breakfast, and I have failed you as a Christmas Spirit if we don’t do that.”
He slides the first gift towards you and eyes you coyly. “Open this one first.” He urges you. 
They’re all small gifts, relatively inexpensive. You’re not expecting Swarovski crystals from Taehyung considering he’s an unemployed Christmas Spirit. But each gift is thoughtful and sweet and bought specifically with you and your tastes in mind. By the time you open the last of the presents, you’re fighting off tears again.
“I didn’t get you anything.” You lament, sniffling slightly as you set the last gift aside. Taehyung’s eyebrows wrinkle together and his mouth pulls into a pout. 
“I already told you. Just being here is a gift for me.” He insists. “Besides, it’s not like I can use anything you give me for eleven months.”
That causes you to fall silent. You bite your lip as you look away. You had been determined not to acknowledge the elephant in the room, but you can’t do it. You can’t spend the day pretending you’re not on the verge of tears.
“I know I said I wouldn’t. But I can’t keep pretending this isn’t going to happen, Tae.” You say, and when he looks at you, you know it’s the first chink in his armour. He’s held it together considerably better than you, and you’d thought maybe it just didn’t bother him. After all, you were the one with feelings, not him. “At least... you can answer questions, right? If I know more, maybe it will hurt less.”
But looking at him now, you realise that he’s been fighting to stay composed to. 
“What do you want to know?” He finally says, and he’s quiet. Defeated. So unlike the optimistic, cheerful being you’d come to adore. 
“Are you trapped? Will it be be uncomfortable?” You question. “Can you still hear me? Will you... will you be lonely?”
“Not exactly.” He reassures you. “I look like a human but I’m also a glorified Christmas ornament. Time and events are different when I’m a scarecrow. It’s hard to explain.... but it’s not so bad. It’s just... how I am. I’m waiting, but I’m not trapped.” He explains vaguely. “I can hear and see what’s going on, but I just process things differently. Time just... feels different.”
You nod, a little comforted that at least you’re not sending your friend to be trapped in a prison of his own body for eleven months.  
“Am I meant to pass you on to someone else?” You ask. “Or do I keep you here?”
“I guess...” He looks uncertain, and tentative. “I guess it depends how your year goes. Eleven months...” his voice cracks and he clears it awkwardly to hide it. “It’s a long time. You can keep me here, and I’ll see you next December, if you need a little extra help enjoying the season... or you can pass me on to someone else if you don’t need me anymore.”
He’s right. Eleven months is such a long time. Long enough to forget Taehyung and his bright smile and cheery disposition. Long enough to spend next Christmas with your family and pretend like things are ok between you. Long enough... long enough to forget just how much your heart aches today, and fool yourself into doing the exact same thing next year. 
“What do you want?” You finally settle on. It’s the last question of the interrogation. After this, you can pretend everything is ok. You can go on like nothing’s wrong. 
Taehyung’s eyes go wide. He points at himself, bewildered by your question. 
“What do... I want?” He echoes, as if he’s never heard the words before. You nod. 
“I want you to spend Christmas happy.” You confess. “So where do you want to be, next Christmas?”
He’s quiet for so long you’re worried that his brain has stopped functioning or that his weird Christmas Spirit voodoo has kicked in. But when he finally looks at you again, his eyes shine with so much emotion that your heart aches in your chest at the sight. 
“I want to be here.” He finally says. “I want to spend Christmas with you again. There’s so many things we still didn’t get to try, and I want to do them all.”
Your throat goes tight, because yet again, you’re signing yourself up for heartbreak. If you do this, you’re the only one who will be hurt. Pining alone for most of the year for a season you used to hate. The irony of the situation is not lost on you.
But you’re helpless to him, to his smile and his sweetness and his warmth, and you can’t say goodbye. 
“Ok.” You agree. “Then you’ll stay with me. Now let’s have some fun.”
++
The day must inevitably draw to a close. Though you and Taehyung linger at every activity, attempting to draw out each moment, the point in the day comes where the two of you are back at the apartment, with the time drawing closer and closer to midnight.
You unlock your apartment door with trembling fingers and inhale a shaking breath. You glance over your shoulder at Taehyung. He’s a broad-shouldered person, tall and imposing were it not for the warmth of his eyes and his puppy-like demeanour and normally he just seems larger than life. But in that moment, he’s so small and uncertain. 
There’s so much you could say. You could plead with him; try and see if there’s a way to bargain out of the inevitable goodbye. Or you could thank him, from the bottom of your heart, for the first enjoyable Christmas you’ve had in your entire life. Crying feels like a viable option too, or getting angry. Your heart can’t seem to settle on a response and so instead it’s settled on numbness. Like it’s cold, lifeless hunk of metal rattling around in your ribcage.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” Is what you finally settle on. He stares searching at your expression, before nodding to himself and squaring his shoulders
“Yeah. That sounds fun. I’ll make us some hot chocolate as well.” He says, stepping past you into the foyer. 
You eventually settle on watching the Polar Express. When you sit on the couch, Taehyung sits far too close and tugs a blanket over both your laps. He hands you a mug of hot chocolate and the two of you settle into a peaceful quiet, opposite from the laughter and activity of the daytime. The evening melancholy seems to have settled in. The whole movie, you don’t really pay attention, instead trying not to think about the way the clock on the wall seems to be moving quickly. 
“(Y/N).” You’re startled when Taehyung calls your name. It’s out of the blue, and you hadn’t noticed the way he’s steadily edged closer until the words are said almost directly into your ear. You’d been watching the clock instead of the movie, and you think for a moment that he intends to reprimand you. You turn to look at him and the proximity startles the breath out of you. “It’s almost midnight.” He tells you, as if you haven’t been glaring the clock down for most of the night. 
It’s true, though- the minute hand is edging closer and closer to the dreaded twelve. It makes you realise that he’s been eyeing the clock as well. 
“So it is.” You acknowledge, and he’s so close that his breath skates against the skin of your cheeks, staring at you with an intensity you don’t understand.
“Did I... Did I do a good job?” He asks you. You press your lips together; in a way he did. You think you may have smiled in this month alone more than you have the entire year. But you also know that the rest of the year will now pale in comparison; the rest of winter will leech by, depressingly dreary, and summer will come and go in muddy heat. The year will both inch and speed by and that whole time you will have the special month of December in mind. The times you spent with Taehyung. 
“You did.” You finally say. “I... Christmas was always so lonely and miserable to me. Where we tried to pretend that things were ok and merry and it would just dissolve into screaming matches. But with you, it wasn’t. You helped me make it into something warm, and beautiful. And even though...” your voice cracks, and it takes you a moment to reclaim your composure. “Even though the ending will be lonely and sad, you gave me all these wonderful memories. I’ll hear a Christmas carol and think of you from now on, Taehyung.” 
When you finally gain the courage to meet his gaze, you’re startled to find tears pouring down his cheeks. He’s been sad and a little misty-eyed ever since he admitted he wouldn’t be around after Christmas, but he’s also been frustratingly composed. 
But in that moment, he’s anything but. He looks devastated as he brings his hands up to press into his eyes in a vain attempt to stem the flow of tears.
“I’m sorry.” He gasps. “I tried so hard but... I never imagined Christmas would be like this. I was only supposed to make you smile and then go back to being a scarecrow and that should have been enough but it’s not.”
He’s full on sobbing now, and you can only stare in bewilderment as tears form in your own eyes. 
“I want to spend New Year’s Eve with you, and start the New Year together. I want to see you on your birthday. I want to see you on happy days and sad days. I want to...” he rubs his eyes clear and stares straight at you. “I want to make you smile the whole year.” He confesses. 
And that’s when your phone goes off. You’d set an alarm, earlier in the morning, so that you’d know the exact moment midnight hit. You glance away, for just a moment, dread hitting you full force like a sledgehammer. 
And when you turn back, it’s too late. The familiar little scarecrow stares up at you from the couch, where Taehyung had been seated just moments before. 
And you finally let yourself break down at the sight of the familiar button eyes.
And just like that, Christmas is over. 
++
“Why does your apartment smell like someone’s been dumped?” Jin sniffs as he steps through the threshold of your home, uninvited as usual. You’re not sure how he got in, but he probably had a copy of your key made somehow without you noticing. He’s prone to doing invasive things like that.
“Being dumped doesn’t have a smell.” You snap, from where you had been curled up on the couch under a mound of blankets. 
“Yes it does.” He insists. “It smells like...” he pauses to take one long, obnoxious sniff to the air before wrinkling his nose. “B.O. and cheetos.” He recites. 
You sigh, still not bothering to shift from your blanket nest. You’d been expecting his visit, to be honest. It’s the day before New Year’s Eve and you haven’t responded to his annual New Year’s Eve Bash invite. He’s very intense about RSVPs.
“What do you want, Jin?” You ask. He picks his way delicately towards you, navigating his way through your semi-dissembled Christmas tree before settling before you in a crouch. You’d made it part-way through the post-Christmas clean up before you’d been too upset to continue.
“Well, you aren’t answering my texts or calls. Zero activity on social media, no RSVP to my party... So I thought I’d make sure you hadn’t choked on a piece of tinsel.” He looks around your apartment with distaste. “I’m actually not sure if I’m relieved that you’re ok if this is what “ok” looks like.”
You ignore him, choosing to focus your attention back to Netflix. His expression softens, just a fraction.
“Tell me what’s going on, (Y/N). And where’s.. where’s Taehyung?” He questions tentatively. 
You’re unable to conceal the way your shoulders stiffen, just slightly, at the mention of his name. You’ve been doing your best in the five days since Christmas to bounce back and return to normal life, but you can’t seem to. It’s easier to lounge around on the couch than to muster up the emotional energy to pretend you’re ok. You’ve spent too long pretending you’re ok. There isn’t a single drop of you left that can even try to do so. 
“He had to go.” You say, hating the way your voice goes abruptly raw with tears. Jin’s eyes widen just slightly, and he shuffles closer. 
“What do you mean he had to go? He’s-“ As he said the words, his eyes had been darting wildly around the apartment, but he abruptly cuts himself off when he spots the scarecrow on your mantle. “Why is Taehyung...” he begins, before his gaze flickers to you. 
“Oh.” He exclaims simply, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Oh, (Y/N).” He says, his voice filled with sympathy and sadness on your behalf.
You’re surprised when Jin engulfs you in a hug. You’ve never had that sort of friendship- he prefers to show his love by nagging you. But it’s weirdly comforting and you melt into his embrace. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t RSVP.” You say glumly. “I didn’t feel like celebrating.”
Jin pulls away and scrutinises your expression. 
“Forgive me if it seems probing, but I don’t understand what happened. You guys seemed like you were going great at dinner the other night.” He says. “Why... why didn’t you use his wish?”
You pull back and blink at him in confusion. 
“His... wish?” You echo. Jin nods. 
“All Christmas Spirit receive one wish for their entire career. It was instituted recently, though, maybe only in the last twenty years or so, so maybe Taehyung didn’t know about it?” Jin wonders. 
Your eyes widen. 
“Christmas Spirit?” You splutter. “You mean you knew?”
For someone who’s dropping a bombshell, Jin looks remarkably deadpan. 
“Of course I knew. You think I wouldn’t notice a Christmas Spirit living in my store for five years?” He questions you with exasperation. 
You stare at him incredulously. 
“And you never thought, just once, that it would be a good idea to tell me what I was bringing home?” You demand. He rolls his eyes. 
“Oh please. Like you would have believed me.” He says dismissively. “Little Miss Grinch, hates Christmas, told her weird Christmas Scarecrow is actually a special Christmas Spirit? I’m a simple man, (Y/N). I see an opportunity for a great Hallmark movie, I take it.”
You stare at him in rage, and then something occurs to you. 
“That’s why you never came when I texted you that night! You knew it was Taehyung!” You realise in horror. “What if you had been wrong?”
At least he has enough sense of propriety to look sheepish. 
“Taehyung would have helped you if I was wrong.” He offers meekly. The change in pace of conversation has you deflating. 
“If you knew... why did you let him go home with me? I could have spent Christmas at home, alone, and not be dealing with any of this.” You confess, and Jin softens just a little bit. 
“Well, because I didn’t want you to spend Christmas alone.” He admits. “Every year, you’re so miserable. And I thought Taehyung could change that. And honestly, I didn’t think it would end up like this and even if I did, I thought Taehyung would use his wish.”
“What wish?” You ask. Jin shrugs. 
“Every Christmas Spirit gets one wish throughout their career. Usually it ends up being that they become human, but I know of some who have wished for other things.” He admits. You brows knit together as you gaze at your friend. Where is all this knowledge coming from?
“Jin... just who are you?” You ask hesitantly. He smiles awkwardly and rubs at the back of his neck.
“I’m Jin. The same Jin you’ve known for years. But before that, I was a little Christmas bear who spent years trying to make people happy on Christmas day.” He admits. “And one year... I’d had enough. So I wished that I could be human. And here I am today.” He smiles at you. “And it’s not too late. Taehyung can still do the same.” He glances over at your mantle, where the motionless Christmas Scarecrow sits. “Anyway, I have to get going. I was just coming to make sure you were alive.” He gets up and dusts off his pants. “Maybe give the apartment a clean, and then you can sit down and have a nice, long chat with that scarecrow over there.” 
He makes to leave, but can’t resist tossing one last comment over his shoulder. 
“I’m just going to assume you’re bringing a plus one. I’ll change your response to “going” on the fb invite.” 
++
One clean apartment later, you stand before your mantle, gazing into the button eyes of the scarecrow. It’s weird to know that behind them, Taehyung watches you. What is he thinking? Is he sad? Lonely? Trapped? Is he listening? 
You’re strangely nervous. Taehyung had told you that he’d wanted to spend the rest of the year with you, but maybe he changed his mind. Maybe watching you lounge around your apartment the past five days made him realise how lame you are. And if he only gets one wish in his entire career, why would he waste it now? He’s only had one Christmas to live out his purpose as a Christmas Spirit- maybe he’s not ready to give it up yet. Maybe you’re asking too much of him. It’s only been a month; to ask him to become human and face the horrors of the human world is maybe the cruelest thing you could do.
But your heart yearns, and ultimately that it what gives you the courage to begin speaking. 
“I... don’t know how much you heard of what Jin said earlier.” You admit. “He pretty loud so you probably heard at least some of it. But the basic gist... is that you get a wish. Only one wish, so once you use it, that’s it. So, you have to use it wisely.”
You look away and squeeze your eyes shut. 
“And, I understand if you want to save it. You’ve only just started out and maybe you want more time. But I was thinking... if all that stuff you said before is true... Maybe you can use it now. To be a human.” You inhale shakily. The offer is out in the open now. 
The scarecrow doesn’t move. 
“I mean, maybe you didn’t. That’s ok. I’ll be ok if you don’t actually want to spend the rest of the year with me. It’s a lot to ask when it’s only been a month. But I want to.” You squint and you feel the hot prick of tears forming at the corner of your eyes. “This has been the best Christmas I’ve ever had. I’ve never smiled so much before, and so easily. Something about you makes it so easy. And I was never brave enough to say it, but I like your smile too. I like it so much. It’s ridiculous that you can say my smile is lovely when you can look in the mirror and see what your smile looks like. And I... I don’t want to only get to see it on Christmas. I don’t want to spend eleven months waiting for you but the ridiculous part is that I will.” You admit. “I’ll just keep comparing things to the time I spent with you. I’ll spend eleven months of the year waiting for you’re smile. And that’s because... I really like you, Tae. So much- no, too much. I like you too much.” You’re full on crying at this point. “So please. Spend it on me. Wish to be a human. Wish to be here the rest of the year.”
You fall silent, and still, the scarecrow stares at you. Unmoving, unchanging. 
You smile helplessly, before scrubbing at your eyes. He doesn’t want to use his wish. That’s ok. He doesn’t have to. It was stupid of you to think that he would.
You sniffle and open your eyes.
Only to be engulfed by two arms around your body.  
“I like you too much as well.” Taehyung gasps. It takes you a moment to process- your face is smushed into his chest and his arms hold you securely. “I didn’t know about the wish. But... I want to keep spending time with you. I’d have spent it on you a hundred times over if I’d known.”
You go to pull away so that you can see his face, but he doesn’t give you the chance to because his lips are meeting yours. 
It’s a sweet kiss but also a little clumsy and eager. Like he’s worried time is running out. 
Gradually, the urgency fades and he pulls away. At this proximity, you can see the way his lashes frame his bright eyes, and the way his eyes crinkle into little tiny half moons. It’s a little surreal, being able to gaze upon him so freely when just last week you’d been prepared for a goodbye. 
“So... you’re a human now? You get to stay?” You ask. He pulls back and squints at himself. 
“I guess so. I can’t seem to turn back into a scarecrow so I guess... that I’m human now.” He says.
You kiss him again, after that. It’s soft and sweet and perfect. When you pull away, his eyes are hazy and his expression is unfocused. He looks adorably dishevelled and distracted, and then he offers you that smile, the one that makes your heart feel like it’s about to burst. His fingers come up to delicately trail over the paths of your face, like he’s trying to memorise what you look like. 
“You’re smiling.” He breathes, his tone filled with wonder. His thumb comes up to reverently trace the curve of your lips. “It was your smile.” He confesses. You blink up at him in confusion and he chuckles in response. “It threw me off guard. At the ornament store. Up until that point I’d been so nervous whether I was in over my head with the whole Christmas spirit thing. And then you smiled at me and it wasn’t even because of anything I’d even done and suddenly I wanted to keep that smile on your face.” 
You flush, a bit flustered by his admission, but he isn’t finished, apparently. 
“It’s so pretty. You’re pretty.” He insists. “When you kissed me under the mistletoe I thought my heart was going to burst and then I remembered what I was. That I’m a Christmas Spirit and that I don’t get to do this. I get your smile at Christmas and then that’s it.” He smiles self-deprecatingly at himself before it shifts into something warmer, and fonder. “But now... now...” he trails away, too emotional to continue and he settles for pulling you into another tight embrace, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. All you can smell is that comforting scent of peppermint and cinnamon, and you melt. “Now I get your smiles the rest of the year too. I can’t wait to spend the rest of the year with you.” He confesses, a soft, whispered confession into the warm crook of your neck. 
And there’s lots to do, and things you need to work out now that Taehyung is by your side as a human. Your relationship with your parents isn’t fixed, and he doesn’t have a job or a source of income, and there’s still some remaining Christmas decorations that need to be placed in storage. 
But that’s ok. You’ll both work all that out together eventually. After all, you have the rest of the year to do so.
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navegandoaciegas · 4 years
Text
I love my baby to death
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 
Warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, tiniest bit of angst but really tiny I promise, 3.5k words, set after Endgame
Summary:  “Say, hypothetically, there’s a 100 year old fossil who’s a bit confused most of the time but he’s got the spirit, right?, and he’s outside with a packed duffle bag, what would you do?”
You were supposed to enjoy a solo roadtrip after years of Avenging, but Bucky invites himself along and you can’t say no to his happy face.
A/N: I haven’t slept in a week because of nightmares and I just needed something to cheer me up, I guess. Reader took Steve’s side in CA:CW and spent two years with him as a nomad. You can choose to see her and Natasha as a platonic relationship or a romantic one, it’s up to you.
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Read the sequel to this here
“They’re just so fuckin’ gross I don’t understand how you can eat them.”
Bucky sends you his best death glare as he continues digging in his soggy cardboard In-N-Out fries.
“We could have literally stopped by Arby’s three miles west of here” you continue, “they have the best fries. We’re missing out, clearly.” you deadpan eyeing his food skeptically. 
“The curly ones? God no, they’re so spicy. I don’t know why you like your food to hurt but I don’t.”
“Okay, first of all they’re not spicy at all, I don’t know where you got that from. And second, they have a taste at least, unlike these.” You reiterate your point by swinging one the fries in his face. Bucky just grabs your hand and bites the fry, almost biting your fingers off too.
“Yeah, like that god-awful spicy chicken you forced on me the other day? No thank you, ma’am, I’ll stand by my own food choices.” 
You snort. “Not my fault your post-Depression ass can’t handle anything other than salt and black pepper. But sure, go ‘head and enjoy your sorry excuse of a meal, Buck.”
“People from your generation sure love complaining, huh? Back in my days you ate what your mama made you and never bitched about it, or else you went to bed hungry.” 
God, he’s such a grampa. You make a show of rolling your eyes and huffing in annoyance. He likes his senior citizen card a bit too much. He tries to stifle a laugh when he sees the look on your face and just shakes his head at you. 
California (and Bucky Barnes) has stolen your heart and you’ve loved this road trip so much you often wonder why it took you being snapped and facing the end of the world twice to retire from the avenging business. 
Fresno is interesting, to say the least. 
He wanted to stop by, saying something about wanting to see “an old pal from the war” ’s hometown for himself, and you’ve been dreaming about exploring Yosemite for as long as you can remember.
-
Online pictures of Yosemite National Park were stunning but the real thing is just breathtaking. 
You never thought camping would become your thing and you never imagined you’d enjoy stargazing so much. In five months you’ve discovered how big of a nerd Bucky really is and he’s been trying to teach you the names of all the stars and constellations. 
He sees Big Dipper, Orion, Ursa Major and Minor; you see pretty twinkling lights and the occasional shooting star. Nevertheless you sit through hours and hours of explanations, because when he speaks of the things he’s passionate about, Bucky is the most beautiful thing in the world.
“You know, the stars are one of the things I missed the most.” he says softy, furrowing his brows as he does when he remembers something from the past. “Stevie and I used to do that as kids sometimes. We’d sneak out of our houses and go on the roof of this abandoned building to watch the stars. Now there’s so much goddamn light everywhere, you can’t even see them anymore.”
Sometimes when you stop and think about it, really think, you can’t imagine how hard it must have been for them, having everything, even the night sky taken away from them. 
“Steve never told me.” 
“He probably missed the stars too.”
You eye him looking for clues on how he might feel, but you only see a sad smile on his face. “You miss him, don’t you?”
“Every damn day.” his voice cracks and you hold him closer.
“I know Buck, I miss him too. I miss him so much that sometimes I feel like my life has no direction without my Captain.” You’re barely holding back your own tears at this point, “But we’ve got Sam if we need orders, yes?” but you still try to make him smile. You’re always going to try for him.
Your attempt works and he snorts. Always bring Sam up to cheer Bucky.
“I hope he was happy, you know.” he says, “I hope he made the right choice and never regretted a thing. I hope that now he looks back and thinks he wouldn’t have had it any other way. His happiness is all I could ever ask for.”
You cling to each other that night and cry until the early morning. It feels good to let it all out, to let Steve go and look at the future. You’ve lost too much but tonight you only have hope.
-----
New York
Five months before
“Words on the street is you’re retiring your crusty old ass from the field.” 
Sam is leaning on the door of your hotel room with his arms folded and a pleased look on his face.
“Rumors travel fast in this post-apocalyptic word, I see.” you say as you continue stuffing a duffle bag with all the clothes you have left.
“How are you?” Sam asks, with his newly found Captain voice. You wonder if it’s something in that damn shield that gives them that stern commanding tone.
“Tryina analize me, Sammy? I’m not one of your guys at the VA.”
It’s not like you’re pissed at Sam, you love him with all your heart, you’re just angry at the world and Sam’s the one standing in your way right now.
You hear him sigh, “I know what you’re feeling right now, I understand why you would think that-” “Don’t” you interrupt him, “Don’t give me that speech, Fury did that for you already. I’m not running away from my problems.”
“I’m not saying that-” you really don’t want him to talk today, so you stop him again “No but you’re thinking it.”
“I know what it’s like.” he says raising his voice “To lose who you care the most in the world. We all lost someone important but you lost Natasha and I know, trust me I know what you feel right now, because it’s what I felt when I lost Riley.” 
You stop and swallow the tight lump in your throat.
Your eyes well up with tears as you turn to look at him. You’ve been so blinded by your own pain and anger you didn’t stop for a moment to think about others. “I’m sorry Sam, I shouldn’t have treated you like that.” you say sobbing.
Why did she have to leave you?
Stupid, stupid Natasha. Why did she have to sacrifice herself for the world?
Why her?
He hugs you tight and rocks you back and forth. “I understand why you’re leaving and I’m not here to stop you, I promise. Just keep in touch, yes? Text me everyday so I’m not tempted to track you down and fly wherever you are to see if you’re good.”
You smile for the first time in a long time.
“Don’t worry Sam, you’ll get tired of all the selfies I’ll send you, eventually.” 
“You know I’ll never get tired of this pretty face.” he says raising his eyebrows suggestively, making you laugh. “Good, that’s my girl. I missed this laugh so much.”
You stay in his arms a while longer until it’s time for you to leave.
“This is not the only reason I’m here.” he says and clears his throat, “Say, hypothetically, there’s a 100 year old fossil who’s a bit confused most of the time but he’s got the spirit, right?, and he’s outside with a packed duffle bag, what would you do?”
“What?” you manage to stammer out. “Bucky just... wants to...tag along?” 
You are now as confused as Bucky is most of the time.
Sam shrugs. “I guess? You know he’s weird like that.”
What he really means is he’s just like you, lost and confused and in desperate need to live a little, but he doesn’t say it out loud. There’s no need to.
“So, would you mind if he came too?”
You see Bucky standing outside, leaning on your SUV. He’s cut his hair short and he looks hotter than you would like to. He turns around and waves at you with a big smile on his face. Like Sam often says, you too like his energy.
“No, I wouldn’t mind at all.”
----
Denver, Colorado
It’s a long way from New York to Colorado and if you’re honest, you’ve loved every minute of it and you’re glad Bucky came along with you. He’s witty, laid back, snarky, smart and overall a fun guy for someone who was a prisoner to nazis for 70 years.
“Look all I’m saying is I think Edward is a fuckin’ creep. Would you like it if someone stood in your room and looked at you while you sleep?”
“But is that someone a hot vampire, Bucky?”
“It literally doesn’t even matter.”
“Stop saying literally Buck, you’re a 100 year old man, not a valley girl.”
-
“Are we there yet?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Lemme check a map.”
“Bucky it’s on the screen there, Google says we have 20 minutes left.”
“But can we trust this Google guy?”
-
“All I’m saying is if you made and enjoyed congealed salads you probably don’t deserve your right to vote for the future of this country.”
“I mean...fair enough?”
-
“Do we count blipped years or not?”
“At this point it, it barely makes a difference in my case, doll.”
“Honestly you’ve got a point, old man.”
-
“How are you so calm right now?”
“My standards are so low it’s practically impossible to piss me off.”
“But you aren’t even a little bothered?”
“Chill, it’s just a flat tire, it’s gonna take 10 minutes to fix.”
“Buck we talked about the things that are unacceptable. ‘Chill’ coming out of your mouth is one of those.”
It’s your second week in Denver already, and you’re having the time of your life. 
Bucky is spooning you like he usually does. You think back to the first time you’ve shared a bed and you almost giggle at the memory. 
“Uh, Buck?”
“Yes?”
“We might have a problem.”
He enters the room after you and his eyes widen when he sees it.
There’s a bed in the room.
A single bed.
You weren’t expecting much from this place that gives you ‘Bates Motel’ vibes, but you thought you’d have two beds, or at least a couch.
“I’ll just sleep on the floor, don’t worry about it.”
“What?” you shriek “Absolutely not, I’m not letting you suffer all night. We’re going to share.”
“But I-”
“No buts, you know how many times I slept with Steve? I’m used to you supersoldier men by now, I’m no longer affected by your kicks.”
He stays silent. “You and Steve used to…?”
Only then you realize you could have phrased it better.
“God no, I meant just, ya know, share bed.”
He smiles and nods. Why does he look relieved?
Now he clings to you every night, and most times he’s the little spoon because he likes to be held. You used to hate sleeping tangled with someone else until you woke up on top of Bucky, his hands caressing your back, and he told you he had the best night of sleep he’s had in decades.
There’s a lot of things you do just because they make him happy, actually.
But how could you not?
There’s no point in denying your feelings.
----
Salt Lake City, Utah
God, you love Utah.
You drive through immense stretches of red desert whilst Bucky blasts Nicki Minaj like his life depends on it; that’s how it always ends up when he rides shotgun.
He insisted on visiting Monument Valley despite it being out of your way, but you can never find it in yourself to refuse him anything, so you drove 9 hours straight from Denver to the southern border of Utah just so he could see a place that looks a lot like the ones in those Western cowboy movies from the 50s and 60s he loves so much.
“Yasha would have hated it here so much.” you say as you pull over the Airbnb you’ve rented for a couple of days in Salt Lake City.
He snorts, “Yeah, I bet she would have.”
You thought time would heal all wounds and that someday you might stop feeling the void in your life when you think of her, but now you know you’ll never stop hurting. She was such a big part of your life for so long that your heart will never stop aching for her. 
Sometimes you think how she never got to see you again after you were snapped. 
You wonder if she ever stopped missing you.
You know you’ll never not miss her.
-
You’ve driven for more than humanly possible in two days, but he’s a supersoldier and you’re really stubborn, and now you can’t wait to sleep in a nice bed for the first time in a long while. Usually you just make do with motels, but tonight you wanted to treat yourselves.
You enter the place and notice immediately the two queen size beds. 
You should be relieved, and if it was 4 months ago when you first shared a bed you would probably be, but now you’re so used to his warm body next to yours, his flesh arm over you and his face resting in the crook of your neck that you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to fall asleep without him.
“I’ll go shower first if you don’t mind.” you say as you mentally berate yourself for your thoughts. 
Your goal to not fall in love with Bucky Barnes flew out the window somewhere in the green fields of Western Iowa, but at this point you’re just treading a dangerous path and you know you’re going to get hurt.
There’s no way Bucky feels the same about you, right?
You get out the shower, put on a t-shirt you’ve stolen from Steve ages ago and get out of the bathroom, only to stop when you see Bucky on the bed you claimed as yours.
“Sorry, I hope you don’t mind but I feel better when I sleep with you.”
Maybe he does.
----
Nevada
Technically it takes roughly 43 hours to get from New York to Sacramento by car. It took you almost five months.
You’ve been covering Interstate 80, stopping and visiting towns, cities and parks along the way as you pleased, sleeping in seedy motels, your SUV or that fancy ass tent Bucky bought somewhere in Ohio. You’ve begged Bucky to drive from Salt Lake City straight to Sacramento, stopping only when it’s absolutely necessary; you’ll be visiting Nevada after California anyways, so for now you’re just enjoying the scenic drive, with the windows rolled down and the air messing up your hair.
“What’s that song called?” Bucky asks and raises the radio’s volume.
“That’s Dani California by Red Hot Chili Peppers.” you answer absentmindedly, distracted by the seemingly endless stretch of black asphalt and yellowish nothingness around it.
She’s lover, baby and a fighter
Shoulda seen it coming when I got a little brighter
Bucky sings along and smiles glancing your way.
“I like this.” he exclaims when the song ends “Can we listen to it again, please?”
You smile softly and play it again. If there’s one thing Bucky is capable of is listening to the same song on repeat multiple times until you’re so sick of it you don’t ever want to hear it again.
 Who knew the other side of you
Who knew what others died to prove
You never thought Bucky would be like this, or that you’d be privileged enought to see this side of him.
There’s a big smile on his face and the orange hues of the sky reflect in his clear eyes. He’s got one hand on the steering wheel and the vibranium one resting on the car’s door and he looks so different from the man haunted by his past and loneliness you met in Budapest all those years ago. He looks so carefree and relaxed now, so happy. 
You are proud of him.
California rest in peace
Simultaneous release
California show your teeth
She’s my priestess and I’m your priest
I love my baby to death
------
San Diego, California 
You’ve hiked the hills of southern Cali and gone parapending in Torrey Pines. You landed on a breathtaking beach with beautiful dark sand and soon found out, much to Bucky’s dismay and utter disgust, that it was a nudist beach.
He grumbled something about ‘hygiene’ and ‘decor’ and you just laughed at his flustered state.
“First time seeing a naked woman, old man?” you asked in between fits of laughter.
You didn’t notice the sea lion swimming next to you in La Jolla and not even Thanos’ creepy gang could have scared you as much when you turned around and looked him dead in the eyes. Bucky got his revenge filming you as you shot out the ocean with a shrill, covered in algae and terrified. 
You are loving the San Diego area so far. Minus the sea lions.
“Hey I- uh- do you mind if I take the car? I wanted to go do some shopping.” Bucky tells you.
He’s really embarrassed for some reason.
You shrug and mumble a ‘sure’ before going back to basking in the sun by the pool of the hotel you’re staying at.
“Okay, I-I guess I’ll g-go then, I’ll come pick you up at 5.30 for dinner.” he stutters out.
Weird, you think, but you don’t give it too much thought. Bucky is like that.
-
Dinner time rolls around and as promised Bucky comes pick you up on time.
You’re wearing a short green dress with white daisies printed on it and a pair of strappy white sandals. You look good and you know it; Bucky knows it too, judging from the glances he tries to sneak your way.
“So, uhm-” he clears his voice, “I know it’s going to sound weird but I promise it’s not. Can I- Can I blindfold you?”
Can he...what? You could split me in half and I’d be glad about it, you’d like to say.
“Kinky. You could at least buy me differ first, tho.” you settle for something safer instead.
He blushes three shades darker than his usual color and you take the black scarf he’s handing you, barely concealing a teasing smile.
He drives around for a while. When you get to your destination the first thing you hear is the waves beating on the shore and the smell of the ocean. He helps you get out and guides you somewhere.
“Wait here.” 
You hear him park the car in reverse, open the trunk and fiddle with something. He comes up behind you and removes the blindfold. You feel his hot breath on your neck and it sends tingles down your spine straight to your pu- “You can look now.”
When you open your eyes you are stunned for a moment. You turn around with a big smile that turns even bigger when you notice the blankets and the little picnic he’s assembled in the trunk.
“Buck, this is- I can’t believe you remembered.”
Somewhere in Colorado you mentioned how romantic you thought Sunset Cliffs were, and how much you wished you could do something like this. It was a fleeting moment, a thought uttered out loud absentmindedly over a couple of drinks in some bar. You were tipsy and you were running your mouth about all the things you’d want in a partner to some random girl who became your best friends for the night.
You realize you’re tearing up when his fingers grace your cheeks.
It feels nice to be cared about so much. It’s been too long since someone took such good care of you.
“I thought I’d do something special for you.” he says with an adorable blush.
“Thank you Bucky, I love this.” you hug him tightly and bury your face in his chest, inhaling his scent.
“Anything for my girl.”
“When did I become your girl, huh?” you ask teasingly.
“Probably when I invited myself on this trip.”
You both laugh at that.
You swallow hard when you see the look on his face. God, how did you miss the signs? You were always a better sniper than a spy, Yasha always told you.
Your heart is beating out of your chest in anticipation as he leans down slowly and your lips brush lightly. His hands are on your waist and yours on his broad shoulders. He kisses you timidly at first, and more passionately as he gains confidence. 
“I wanted to do this since Bucharest.” he confesses after your lips part.
“Took you long enough, Sarge.”
But it was worth the wait.
-
Tonight’s sunset will be burned in the back of your mind permanently. 
You kiss and laugh some more, and feed eachother seedless grapes because they’re the only ones you eat. He’s brought strawberries, white wine because you don’t drink red, hummus and pita and an assortment of cheese and crackers.
You kiss and talk, cuddle, laugh and kiss some more all night.
You’ve accepted long ago that you’ll never fill the gaping hole in your lives, but that night when you make love to eachother the void in your hearts that Steve and Natasha left behind doesn’t seem as encompassing as it usually is.
---
Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please reblog and comment, feedback is always appreciated 🥺🤲 might fuck around and write Bucky’s POV too.
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seraphimluxe · 5 years
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survival × b.b.
SUMMARY: Bucky woke up depressed today and it doesn't show any signs of letting up.
trigger warning
warnings: this is very dark. it's basically a description of depression with mentions of anxiety and winter soldier violent stuff. if that sounds remotely triggering to you, please skip it.
your mental health > being potentially triggered
I care so much about you, and I'm always here to talk 💞
a/n: hi🌻 i wrote this because I was researching ptsd, c-ptsd and the connection between them and depression, and I wanted to portray depression in a way that wasn't romanticizing it, fantasizing it, or making y/n cure it with a cup of hot cocoa. I know you don't just "wake up depressed" but I feel like with buckys trauma it could be triggered and come on quickly? if that makes sense? I hope this helps someone maybe feel not alone or less hopeless.
🌻 I really do love you. keep living babies 🌻
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His mind is loud today.
The world around him is a wet towel that's been washed so many times it's lost its color, and he can't bring himself to care.
He lied in bed staring at the ceiling, watching the cool, midnight filter on his bedroom get cut through with warm sunlight.
It wasn't nice. It wasn't pleasant. It was another day, and today, he just didn't want that.
He felt stupid for sitting in bed– maybe guilty was a better word. He should get up, make himself useful, redeem himself, but the inflamed words in his head ached everytime he tried to think of anything.
What's the point?
He should go get breakfast, but what's the point? Why does it matter if he gets hungry? He should train, he should at least try to act normal, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care if he starves, he doesn't care if the blankets are hot and stuffy and disgusting on his skin.
it doesn't matter
He's just so numb. He truly doesn't have the energy to feel emotions today. His tank is on "E", and now he's empty.
His chest is so heavy. It's so heavy. His brow and lips are stuck in a frown, and his arm hurts so badly. Whenever he has a day like this, his arm aches like the day he got it.
Everything aches. His whole world is heavy and painful and it's suffocating.
The days of numbness and emotionlessness are the ones where he most feels like the soldier. Those are the days where he teeters on the line between Bucky and The Asset.
He doesn't feel like Bucky today. Not today. But then again he doesn't feel anything.
The only emotion he can welcome is guilt. He knows it's only a matter of time before all the avengers start noticing his absence, and start worrying about him. That makes him guilty. He feels guilty that Stark is letting him stay here, giving him food and a bed, and he has the balls to sit in bed and rot.
He feels guilty that he killed people, stole them from their families, loved ones. He stole their lives right away from them, and now he's just sitting here in bed, moping around like he's the one who lost something.
He doesn't understand how he was one of the deadliest assassins, he served in the war, he's a soldier, but today, he can't get out of bed. It's pathetic.
It takes hours for him to get out of bed, the alarm says it's almost noon. His brain runs on autopilot, taking up so much of his already absent energy. He goes to the bathroom, knowing it'll probably be the only time he's up today. He's proud of himself for making the walk there. It's the first taste of a real emotion today, it's almost nice before he's swallowed up by the darkness again.
The mirror in his bathroom told a horrible story and he didn't even recognize the soulless being looking back at him. He knows he should go down and at least get some water, show his face, maybe a snack if he can manage it.
He's forgotten the elevator ride as soon as he steps off. The world is still moving, still bustling outside like nothing's changed, it doesn't feel right. He feels like he's watching a movie, and he's the only one who knows something is wrong. It's so quiet, the walk to the kitchen feels like a walk through a museum, he's grateful he doesn't encounter anybody.
He gets a drink, the water tastes like nothing. He pours himself some cereal, and stares at it until it's soggy. It tastes like nothing too. He manages a few spoonfuls. He feels guilty about throwing away good food, so he just stares at it in hopes that it might disappear.
He wants to be back in bed.
Steve enters. He doesn't look like Steve. A cardboard cutout, or a bad drawing. He's unfamiliar.
Steve seems surprised to see him, Bucky knows that he knows something is wrong.
He gives up on the cereal, a sour taste in his mouth being the only thing that prompted another sip of water. It's silent except for Steve preparing his protein shake. He knows not to talk, he can sense the thickness and dark in the room. He knows his words won't cut through it, so he smiles and doesn't speak.
Bucky nods and abandons his cereal, aiming for bed again. When he occupies himself with walking or eating or just doing something, the screams in his head take over any other thoughts he would have. He sees them all in little flashes in his head. Every single person he's killed, everyone he's hurt, the flashes of blood, a gunshot, a final gurgling gasp, someone hiding under a desk, a neck snapping. He's almost glad he's numb today.
Every now and then there's a scene of him being beaten, him falling off the train, more of him being tortured and abused, insults in Russian, curious and demeaning eyes looking him over like he's a horse at an auction. These scenes hurt less than the others, but make anxiety well up in his chest and his lungs.
He knows he just needs to survive today. That's what Sam's told him, sometimes when it gets bad, you just gotta survive. Bucky forgot how bad it can be.
He's lived through 70 years of torture, beatings and mutilation, and right now, safe in his bed, he doesn't know how he's going to survive the next 24 hours. He knows it's just his mind, he knows things won't be bad forever, he knows there will be a day where he's happy again, he knows all that, but right now he can't see it.
So he survives. He lives through the minutes that last for hours, he lives when it gets dark and the scenes in his head begin to flash behind his eyelids. When he gets tired of breathing, he lives.
Tomorrow comes, and he's not healed. He's not "normal", but he's just a little bit better. He survived. He'll try his hardest to survive again today.
He lives for the moment when he'll be alive again, until then he'll survive.
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themurderburgers · 4 years
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01/12/19 - Last night was insane. Thanks so much for a wonderful time, Dundee.
Over 1000 shows, 6 albums, 1 EP, 10 split releases, 38 different line-ups and just shy of 13 years of terrible luck and IT’S TIME TO GET SOME SLEEP! Thanks a lot for everything, even the absolutely awful parts. Those have made for the best stories, and on nights like when you’re playing for two people somewhere in northern France and the local band steals the depressing amount of door money when you’re on meaning all the venue owner can give you is a plate of soggy Micro Chips between the three of you, the awful story is definitely the real payment. I’m absolutely loaded when it comes to “the real payment”. That soggy Micro Chips thing only happened in 2017, by the way. Obviously managed to do a lot of great stuff with a lot of great people all over the world which I’m extremely thankful for and proud of considering this band used to get barred from venues for being so sonically displeasing, and also made a shitload of wonderful friends along the way, but no one likes an overly sincere bragger on the internet. I’ll pat myself on the back in private. Oh yeah, Noelle, Lars and I signed a “contract” written on a cardboard CD sleeve saying that we'd come out of hibernation to play at our friend Jan’s 40th birthday party in Hamburg in 3 years, so if it turns out that bit of cardboard is legally binding then I guess we’ll either end up doing that or end up in German court. In the meantime, I’m very much looking forward to doing some new musical stuff next year. The rammy never dies. See you all soon. Fraser (Photos by Hannah and No Matter)
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creme-clouds · 5 years
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Sup Cowards
This is going to be a more organized version of my main blog @depressed-soggy-cardboard because sometimes i actually like organization
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