#mc lives on coffee and spite

[zetadraconis11]

HL Incorrect Quote #100

*in the Room of Requirement*

MC, bursting in: I finally did it!

Sebastian from the sofa: Did what?

MC, holding up the Field Guide: I finally found all the pages!

Natty, looking up from her book: THAT'S why you've been casting Revelio everywhere?

MC: Yep! And not only that, but I also found all of those Demiguise statues!

Poppy, while petting Highwing: ...is that why you've been taking cat naps all around Hogwarts?

MC: Yep.

Ominis, from a lounge chair: For the record, sleeping on the floors of Hogwarts are not as bad as you would think.

MC: Oh, and I found ALL of the Astronomy tables!

Amit, by a telescope: You did?! I hope it wasn't too dangerous...

MC: Nonsense! I've dealt with a whole lot worse than some mongrels and spiders. This was a piece of cake.

The group:

MC: And don't get me started on those bloody Merlin trials... But I did all 95 of them!

Sebastian, horrified: 95???

MC: Yes! It was not worth the pints of coffee and tea I downed, but I have done it all!

The group:

MC: I need to sleep. *keels over onto lounge*

The group:

Ominis: The more I hear about what MC does, the more concerned I get.

#As much as I want to 100% the game there's just so much #I wonder how worried the group would be if they did hear all these tasks the mc had to do #mc lives on coffee and spite #mc spite-completed the game lol #Hundredth quote yayyy #That's quite the milestone! #Thanks for reading my incorrect quotes guys #hogwarts mc #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #poppy sweeting #natsai onai #amit thakkar #hogwarts legacy headcanons #hogwarts legacy incorrect quotes #hogwarts legacy

[honkthehenry]

unnamed slime game - part 1

Masterlist

The way you suddenly snapped into awareness without realizing you drifted off at all was something akin to having a bucket of ice-cold water thrown into your face.

You... dozed off in class again. In hindsight, it was inevitable – the last time you got hours of sleep instead of something in-between nothing at all and a 2-hour-nap was last Saturday. You've been running on nothing but bitter, cheap coffee and sheer spite for almost a week now, it was high time you finally crashed.

Still, you should have woken up at Uni. You should have woken up to your professor huffing and puffing and glowering in your face about your terrible conduct, about how your generation had no respect for his generation, about how such a complicated and beautiful science like Robotics was not a place for slackers like you (which, fair, you had no idea what you were doing in Robotics either), not... alone and certaintly not in the middle of a forest.

You ran through a bunch of scenarios quickly, but none stuck.

Kidnapping? Far-fetched at best. You lived alone, only barely making ends meet by running yourself into the ground as you tried to marry working retail with being a full-time student, so ransom was out of the question and being kidnapped for the sake of doing bad things to you... Why bother? You didn't know anyone nearly well enough to be kidnapped due to personal feelings and you were neither good-looking enough (perpetually tired goblin that you were) nor famous-, connected- or skilled enough to be kidnapped randomly.

Besides, you were at the University, on the 5th floor, in the middle of the city that had no forests for miles! You were surrounded by 20-odd other people, there was no way someone would be able to kidnap you with so many witnesses around.

So, not kidnapping.

Dream then?

Also unlikely. Your dreams were few and far-between and when they did happen, it was either you being surrounded by characters from the show you happened to be fixated on at the time or it was you getting repeatedly chased and swallowed whole by a dinosaur on a loop, until the dream finally ended (probably Jurasic Park childhood trauma, now that you thought about it).

Still.

This was so weird, because you knew for a fact you were much too aware of everything to be dreaming and yet the things you saw didn't makes sense at all!

You didn't have any arms for one!

And your body was purple!

You could feel electricity zapping at your body and it didn't hurt, it was more like being swallowed in a blanket burrito and nursing a comforting mug of hot chocolate, while watching your favourite show with no worry for deadlines or money!

You weren't supposed to feel like that, you were supposed to be tired and grumpy and irritable and not nice and not toasty and certaintly not so comfortable!

Drugs? Hallucinations? You never partaked, you didn't drink alcohol either, so that was a no—

—A purple crystal you were under zapped at you again and you positively melted on the spot, basking in the feeling and letting the troublesome train of thought go like the wind, before it inevitably derailed and caused you undue anxiety as it always did.

...it was very nice actually.

Maybe losing opposable thumbs wasn't so bad if you got this in exchange.

You could live like this.

×•×•×•× Honk!!! Corner ווו×

You know that one post lurking on Tumblr where OP is turned into a frog by a witch as revenge? And just vibes? Basks in the sun without worrying about life? This is MC now.

I don't care how long or how short chapters are, they're just gonna vibe as they are because I am a goblin with a short attention span and no actual ability to write.

Something to get you thinking - MC is an electro slime for a reason and that reason is electro immunity.

I wonder why?

*smiling like a particularly smug cat*

Did I mention I can't draw lightning/electricity? Because I can't, so I didn't.

Also fvck me, my tags didn't saveeeeee 😭

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #except sagau part is slow burn #isekai #genshin isekai #x reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #x gn y/n #x y/n #x you #electro slime mc #slime mc #unnamed slime game

[miss-celestia13]

Begin Again

Jake x MC Fluffy One Shot

Words: 2.8k

It’s Jake’s first day at his new job. His nerves are getting the best of him, but MC knows just what to say and do to get him out of his head. A new beginning, the promise of peace and safety.

The ending of my story made me want to return to these two. While I prepare for my sequel, it was fun and peaceful to write something fluffy again! It’s more tooth rotting fluff and romance! I hope you enjoy it 🥰❤️

Jake

His inner critic was very loud that morning. It was desperately trying to save him from making mistakes, but all it gave him was anxiety, doubt, and misplaced shame. The man looking back at him in the mirror was not the one he was accustomed to. Gaunt, grey and terrified was how he used to look. A specter in human skin who lived in the shadows. Now, a glaze to his eyes spoke of a kinder life and peace, but the harsh line of his tensed jaw and the frown between his brows gave away his fear. He could hear her padding around the kitchen as he finished brushing his teeth and rinsed his mouth, ensuring his hair wasn’t too unkempt before he left the sanctuary of the bathroom to gather his things. Today was no ordinary day. He was starting his new job, the first in five years and one he was semi-confident he would excel at, but his social battery worried him. Would it hold enough charge for an eight-hour workday? He wasn’t entirely sure.

She insisted he spend the night so she could see him off on his first day, and she woke him with his preferred black coffee and two slices of buttered toast. His stomach was a nest of snakes, and she seemed to know he couldn’t stomach anything else. It had settled him somewhat, and her tender, loving touches and smiles helped more. Still, there was a definite tremble in his hands as he packed the forms he had filled in with his shiny new bank details and hunted for his favorite pen, which he found tucked behind her ear as she entered the bedroom to see how he was getting on. She gave it to him with a sheepish smile, and he chuckled at the pink flush on her cheeks.

“You look like a professional.” She teased, eyeing his freshly pressed shirt and black trousers.

“I don’t think they’d appreciate me turning up in a hoodie and jeans,” He said.

“Hmm, they don’t know what they’re missing.” She laughed but quickly stopped as she sensed the tension in him.

“Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re about to be sick.”

Jake swallowed hard, head shaking as he drew in a tight breath, “I’m... terrified. What if I fuck it up? What if they find out what I did? What if-”

“Jake. Breathe,” Her hands were on his shoulders as she looked him in the eye, “Let’s try something different. What if none of that happens, and you love it? What if this is what you need to finally feel safe? You won’t know for sure until you’re there. Don’t ruin it before you get started.”

He knew she was right, but there was an iron band around his chest and a dead weight in his feet that kept him rooted to the floor. He didn’t want to let her down. Wanted to build a life with her, and to do it, he needed a job, and he was very aware of all the ways it could go wrong. Taking a steadying breath, he shook out his tingling hands and nodded, hoping he looked braver than he felt.

“I just hate being scared of everything. It makes me feel useless, weak,” He admitted in a whisper, watching as her brows furrowed. That spark ignited in her eyes, the one that always appeared when he was being too hard on himself.

“I’d be more concerned if you weren’t anxious or nervous. It’s normal to be afraid of something new, especially after what you went through. But Jake, the only time you can ever be brave is when you’re afraid. It doesn’t make you useless. It makes you strong and courageous because you’ll do it in spite of your fear.”

There was nothing but stolid belief and conviction in her tone as she stared up at him, a soft smile on her plush mouth, and he knew she was right and he would adapt like he always did.

“How do you always know the right thing to say?” He wondered aloud and she winked, pushing up on her toes to kiss his cheek before turning to leave the bedroom. Her response was tossed over her shoulder before she walked out the door.

“I just say what I wish people told me whenever I was afraid or anxious. And I know you better than anyone. You just needed someone to remind you who you are.”

Shaking his head, Jake didn’t question it or the calmness she left behind as he zipped his work bag shut and carried it through to the living room. She was waiting for him, a coy smile on her lips as she handed him a lunch bag and ducked her head. His heart swelled and warmed, touched that someone wanted to take care of him. Her quiet care for those she loved was the most beautiful thing about her. He tried to open it, but she stopped him, a note of alarm in her voice that made him arch a brow.

“Wait until lunchtime to open it. I could barely close it; it’ll explode all over the place, and you’ll be late if you don’t hurry.” She rambled, not meeting his eye, and though he wanted to question her, she was right. He had to leave.

“Thank you. I’ll let you know how it goes when I get home. I love you.” He murmured and kissed her softly, smiling into it as she sighed happily.

Parting with the promise of spending another night together, Jake grabbed his car keys and belongings and headed out the door. She stood in the doorway waving and grinning as he backed out of her driveway and onto the main road, beeping the horn before he steeled his spine and followed the GPS to his new workplace. The drive seemed to pass almost instantly. Like he blinked and he was there, he hoped the day went by just as quickly. The parking lot was already filling up, and he had to circle it a few times, his heart rate climbing higher with every turn. Once he found a parking space, he double-checked he had all he needed and got out of the car, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket as he walked toward the building. Pulling it out, he saw her name and smiled as he opened it.

MC: Good luck, love. You’ll smash it. I’ll help you forget all about it tonight ;-)

Jake: Thank you. Enjoy your day, and I’ll hold you to that. :-)

He turned it off as he entered the building, schooling his features into what he hoped was a welcoming smile as he approached the front desk and gave the receptionist his name. The kindly older woman grinned at him and directed him to his floor, handing him a passkey with his photo, name, and title already on it. Security analyst. It sounded very official, and he couldn’t help his wry chuckle as he took the elevator to meet with his boss. If Jake from two years ago could see him now… He’d barely left the elevator when his name was called. He recognized the man’s baritone voice and whirled to face his new employer. His name was Harvey. He was a sauve and perfectly put-together man in his mid-forties. His suit must’ve cost at least a couple month's wages. Jake felt like a boy around him but knew it was in his head as the man gestured for him to follow him inside his office.

Once he was seated, Harvey gave him a lengthy rundown of all that was expected of him and how desperately they needed his help and expertise. It was overwhelming, but he managed to stay on track and digest the urgency of the situation. Jake nodded and asked a few questions, mainly listening as Harvey explained the flaws in their systems and the temporary patches they had in place. It would not hold forever, and Jake’s job was to close all holes and ensure everything ran smoothly. He was being paid handsomely for it and knew he could do it. It was the human aspect of the job he worried over, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. There was no point in borrowing problems from the future when the present held more than enough to keep him occupied. His boss seemed to deflate with relief when Jake told him the ideas he’d already had. Still, he wanted to get familiar with the systems before implementing anything. Harvey was amenable to that, and soon, they were on their way to Jake’s new office. An office. His time spent in dingy motels while searching for Hannah felt like another life as he surveyed the room. 

“I’ll let you set yourself up and get a feel for it. If you have any problems or questions, call my office. We’re glad to have you here.” Harvey said with a smile.

Jake thanked him again and returned his goodbye as Harvey closed the door and left him to it. He slumped into his new chair and blew out a breath as he turned his computer on and signed into his work account. He soon forgot to be nervous as the familiar feel of the keys under his fingers and their comforting clacking filled the quiet room, reminding him of being at home. Working on his laptop while she flitted around the house or kept him company. The morning passed in a blur of very little in the way of progress, but he learned a lot more than he thought he would take in on his first day. The size of the company was an issue. As was the fact employees took work laptops home. That wasn’t his problem yet, and he soon began compiling a list of the most glaring, dangerous issues. He sent an email containing his findings to his boss, checked the time, and was surprised to see it was already lunchtime. He didn’t want to leave the safety of his office and decided to eat there for the day at least. Socializing could wait until he got his feet under him.

Signing off for the hour, he reached under his desk for his lunch bag. He set it on his desk, carefully opening it as he remembered her strange demeanor earlier that day. He was smiling as he saw the effort she went to. Along with his well-filled sandwiches were a bag of chips, three energy drinks, and a bunch of his favorite snacks. His chest felt tight and pleasantly warm as he sent her a quick text to let her know how much he appreciated her. He was happily eating a sandwich when he pulled the bag of chips out to add some to it and saw the note at the bottom of the bag. His heart kicked up as he picked it up and read it.

No matter what your silly brain tells you,

you are excellent at everything you do and can do this.

I am so proud of you I could cry.

You have strengthened me in my weakest moments.

I plan to always do the same for you.

Don’t forget how happy you make me.

Enjoy your lunch.

I love you.

His vision swam as he read it again and again. She was always surprising him. He never knew what was next with her, and he liked it, no, he loved it. She shook him out of his rigid numbness and convinced him he could have and be more. She was a balm to his every wound, and he knew she felt the same about him. He saw it in the way she went soft around him, all smiles and gentle kisses. Even when they disagreed, she was never cruel or harsh. She stood her ground, made her argument, and always listened to his side. They were a team, and he was doing this job to make sure that the life they dreamed of came true and she never had to worry about him again. He barely tasted his lunch after that, time passing swiftly as he thought of everything he would say when he got home.

The rest of the work day went as quickly as the morning had, and Jake felt lighter and more sure of himself as he closed everything down and left his office. Harvey wished him a pleasant evening as Jake poked his head into his office to say goodbye and thanked him for the opportunity. He was in his car and on the road home within minutes, music blaring, and the window rolled down as the sun made the tarmac shimmer. Fresh air filled his lungs, and he breathed much easier now the day was behind him. She would already be finished work, and he knew where she would be as he neared her house and slowed to turn into the driveway. Seeing the side gate was unlocked, he knew his hunch was correct and hurried out of the car to find her. Her garden was half-wild and half-tamed. Long grass and tidy borders filled with carefully selected plants and flowers. Birds chittered in the trees lining the back of it, and she was on her knees before a flower bed, hair tied back in a messy bun as she pruned the rose bushes. Their sweet scent hung heavy in the summer air as he approached and admired her in her element. 

Bees buzzed around the flowers as he announced his presence so he didn’t frighten her; their fuzzy jackets were weighed down with pollen as they jumped from bloom to bloom. As she turned to him and saw him smiling, her shoulders relaxed, and her eyes softened as she got to her feet and took off her gloves, tossing them on the ground as she came to him. No hesitation, no second guessing, she invaded his personal space and gave a satisfied little sigh. Her arms wound around his waist. She smelled like earth, grass, and roses, a fragrant perfume he wished he could bottle. 

“Well, how was it? Was anyone mean to you?” She laughed as he wrapped his arms around her and shook his head.

“It was... good. I think I’ll like it there. And no, cheeky, they were nice.” 

“See, I knew you would do great.” She said, watching his face for any sign of discontent and finding none.

“I especially enjoyed the food you packed for me,” He hedged, delighted to see a blush creeping up her neck as she avoided his eye.

“Did you now?” 

“I did. Someone left me a really encouraging note. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” 

She shrugged, eyes twinkling as she said, “I haven’t the slightest inkling. What did it say?” 

“That you are proud of me and love me. Some other things too, but I don’t want you to get any redder than you already are,” he teased, kissing her forehead as she hummed and cleared her throat.

“I suppose it’s all true... Tell me, did it help?” She asked, and he nodded.

“It did. Thank you, you’re far too good to me.”

She shook her head vehemently, “Nope. None of that. You’re more than enough for me. If I have to tell you -”

He laughed as he cut her off with a kiss that made her melt into him and clutch his shirt in two tight fists. He would never tire of kissing her. That he was able to whenever he wanted felt like a gift, and he would not waste it, not for a second. He’d already spent years of his life as a ghost, he refused to do so again. The feel and scent of her were all he knew as he possessed her mouth and knew this was where he was meant to be. They were only at the beginning. There were so many years and opportunities ahead of them, and he could choose the things that made him happy, not what kept him free of his pursuers. That was the most exciting thing of all, and he couldn’t wait to make mistakes that wouldn’t end his life or put him in jail. Just wanted to make those normal mess-ups that one could learn from. He hadn’t been able to do that in so long. It felt silly to look forward to such a thing, but he knew what life was like without it, and it wasn’t worth it. The world was theirs for the taking, and he knew they would make it to whatever end they wanted. Together, always together. And whether the weather be frost, rain, or sunshine, they would be each other’s shelter. It was a vow he was only too happy to keep.

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

Thank you for reading! And if you reblog or comment, thank you so much for that, too! I am so grateful to you. I hope you enjoyed it 🥰❤️

#duskwood fanfiction #fanfic #duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fandom #fanfiction #duskwood everbyte #duskwood game #fluff and romance #duskwood hacker #duskwood family #duskwoodlover #fluff and love #fluff #romance fanfiction #fanfiction writer #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #love and romance #nervous #words of encouragement #cute #duskwood oneshot #duskood one shot #one shot #duskwood community #female writers #creative writing

[blanketorghost]

Now that FictIf and The Arcana have been bought out by Dorian, I feel the need to remind y'all as the only person who's spoken out about this but;

Heir To Love And Lies is an extremely racist story to its core.

The love inrerests are either harmful stereotypes or key players on the violence and corruption here in Colombia.

Even if Nathalie has a Colombian father, she has failed to accurately represent the country, the spanglish abhorrent and the treatment of rural Colombia is one of the worst I've seen.

The MC is a white saviour stereotype and is such an awful character whom barely cares about the town; especially when their decisions will affect the livelihoods of workers.

Chava and his whole family are a huge stereotype of low income workers and farmers in the perifery. Their relationship with the drug cartel was unnecessary and insulting— especially when Colombian people already struggle with discrimination about being poor coca and marijuana farmers.

Sergio is literally the epitome of everything wrong with Colombia and shouldn't be romantisized as a love interest— especially as he is related to an assasination which happen in Colombia on the daily .

Val is part of the most corrupt, homophobic and racist institutions and attempting to make her a love interest makes me want to barf as an lgbt Colombian. Especially when I receive news on the daily of lgbt people getting abused by police. I'm glad her route never got released.

The whole story glorifies the foreign colonization of Colombia's economy; which have affected our country gravely— even leaving entire regions of ours in extreme poverty.

'La Dama Roja' is such an awfully constructed character; both character design and story-wise. Her dress is mexican right out of the bat. Her whole character crumbles apart once you actually learn about Colombian politics and culture.

The whole story is a complete regression for Colombian representation and a slap on the face for me, and many other latino users whom have shared their concerns privately to me. It perpetrates so many harmful stereotypes and completely misunderstands the intricacies of Colombia and its people. It ignores our pleas for positive rep after being thrown and dragged through the mud as a druggie country for upwards of fourty years and refuses to acknowledge that Colombia is more than just drugs and coffee.

If you want 'good' Colombian representation, you are much better off watching Encanto in spite of its issues.

If you want Colombian rep that is more mature leaning I would recommend;

Los Viajes Del Viento for a culturally accurate depiction of the north of Colombia

Señorita María: La Falda De La Montaña for a documentary about being lgbtq+ trans in rural Colombia

Los Colores De La Montaña for a depiction of how the drug war has affected innocent farmers in rural Colombia

These are all critically acclaimed movies that all tackle living in the small towns that HTLAL is supposed to be based upon and do a much better job at it.

Also, I've said this many times but I think it's worth mentioning that if you want a more in-depth representation of all the issues HTLAL fails to tackle respectfully, y'all should read The Rebellion of The Rats by Fernando Soto Aparicio

#fictif #the arcana #heir to love and lies #htlal #htlal sergio #htll #fictif sergio #fictif chava #fictif val #htlal chava #htlal val

[hekaates]

open letter to ems — @emdrabbles

Hey bitch. Happy birthday.

It’s 02:30 when I’m writing this, obviously, it’s not like I could write you this another time, and I was wondering if you like coffee.

I know. I’m just as genuinely confused as you are. Part of me tells me you probably do but another part, deep in my soul, tells me ur only drink earl grey tea. Do you like coffee? We’ve known each other for years, I feel like I should know if u like coffee or not.

It’s weird. To think that we’ve known each other for years. Makes it sounds like we met in a sandbox during kindergarten recess, you stepped on my sand castle so I threw sand into ur eyes. We’d spend the rest of the school year flipping each other and sticking our tongues to one another.

Instead we met the way we did. Each on their own hemisphere, the other side of the world. I never thought send an ask would save my life so much. (A/N:: trying to sound pretty while talking ab tumblr antics if fucking pathetic)

I remember sending you that ask, I suppose. Vacation on the beach side, sleeping in a mattress on the floor while my family sleeps on the single beds. It’s 1AM, I check ur blog and think that, maybe, saying something nice won’t be the death of me.

I don’t remember what I said. But everyday since then I’m glad I’ve said it.

I’ve just watched Set It Up with my grandmother, that film where the MCs try to set Lucy Liu with some guy. The entire film they present the idea of loving in-spite of…loving someone independent of their flaws, their mistakes, their imbalances.

I wish I could saying I loved you despite of you…but I can’t think of anything to despise you for, anything that would make me disregard the sisterhood we created through conversations of writing, books and everything else we’ve talked about.

All I can think of saying is

I love you despite of you being a head shorter than me.

I love you despite you not writing anything for weeks

I love you despite you not updating our collab playlist for months

I love you despite you living in the other side of the world

I love you despite never having truly seen you

I love you despite knowing I might never see you.

I love you because I know I almost never knew you.

In return what I could say is thank you. for loving me back. Loving me back despite of all things…despite of myself.

Despite my bad grammar, my main character complex, despite being unable to shut up about Brazilian trivia, my disgusting taste in men, despite not being able to shut the fuck up sometimes, despite sending you twenty audios of a random subject you didn’t ask to be spoken to about, sending you unnecessary updates on reality shows you don’t watch and despite everything telling you not to.

Thank you for not giving up on me when I gave up on myself.

My aunt used to tell me the story about the time she went hiking with her friends. The trail connect one city to another, and in the dark night she and her friends meet three boys standing on the road looking through the woods. They greet each other shortly and ask if any of them has seen a dog. She says no and the three warn them about the bad things they can see on a trail on their own. She takes no mind to it.

Two hours later, they reach the city and order a beer on the first bar they see. The waiter is friendly enough to ask them their story and when they mention they had just left the trail he asks them if they knew about the three boys that died mysteriously after searching for their dog.

I hope when I die I can haunt trails next to you, whatever trails it might be.

You’re the Tolkien to my Lewis, hopefully without its tragic ending.

Eu te amo. E você sempre será minha irmã. Mesmo que eu nunca te encontre.

[agape-bakery]

Hey! Congrats on the new blog, is it alright if I request a reader with they/them pronouns pranking Lucifer with Satan? Have a nice day! ^-^ -Oli

Hi Oli!! Of course, it's fine! I assume that the relationship with MC is platonic so hopefully that's what you wanted it to be! Have a nice day as well! ^^

GN! MC pranking Lucifer with Satan

You didn't hate Lucifer, you love him and every brother equally! But come on, who didn't want to see Lucifer getting worked up over a small prank? (The rest of the brothers, that's who-)

Sure, pranking Lucifer sounds like an awful idea it is but you only live once, right?

Satan was the mastermind behind the 'Lucifer getting salt in his coffee during breakfast' 'Lucifer needing to wear a pink blouse after Laundry Day' and the most infamous 'Flying Cockroach in Lucifer's Office' although the last part pranked Mammon and Asmo more than the target really.

Satan knew that Lucifer wouldn't even do something to hurt you. You were one of Diavolo's chosen candidates for the exchange program and he was going to use that to his advantage.

Hearing you agree to help with his pranks practically made his week. So long as you didn't ruin his plans and snitch on Lucifer, he was happy having you at his side.

The two of you were at his room, mainly because the rest of his brothers barge in yours without knocking and they were scared of entering his.

"I have an idea."

"A good one, I hope."

"Rude."

You lean towards him in your seat as he tapped his hand against his cheek, reading, "How about putting glitter on all of his socks and shoes?"

You watch with a smirk as he stopped tapping, looking at you.

"That's quite an evil idea...Let's do it."

The easiest part was buying glitter, unsurprisingly.

Lucifer was never the type to just put his socks and shoes everywhere.

Trying many times and failing, you grew doubtful and wondered if this really was an awful idea after all.

"How do you think I managed to prank Lucifer?"

"Spite??"

"That too, but it's courage. Even if it's difficult, if it makes Lucifer irritated like a teapot over a small harmless thing like this, I might as well be the happiest and proudest person alive. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear. Remember that.”

It was really difficult trying to make Lucifer think that you were not in his room for any ulterior motives, and it took a rough scolding for you to even enter his room.

And you failed.

You failed to put the glitter because it was in his closet, something that you couldn't open and reach without grabbing his attention.

"Satan...I failed..."

Watching you look so disappointed somehow made the cynical fourth brother grew sympathetic.

"You did well, MC. You did something that I could never do."

He grabbed your hand and grinned. "You're quite impressive for someone who's only done this for 2 days."

The next day, Lucifer was going to get his polished shoes from a shoe polisher and as you and the brothers were sharing snacks in the living room, he stormed in with an irritated look and holds up a pair of glittering polished shoes, causing everyone to laugh loudly at the sight of it.

"Who did this??"

"Luci, I didn't think that you would be a glitters guy!! Would you like me to give you more?" Asmodeus teased the eldest, and Mammon and Leviathan were dying and pointing at him.

You took one look at a smirking Satan and realized that he might have done that while you were distracting Lucifer.

He looked at you with a shrug, "I don't know, Lucifer. Don't you always have your shoes polished somewhere?"

"Maybe you requested it and forgot."

Satan was right. Seeing Lucifer look this annoyed made you the happiest and proudest person for doing it.

You and Satan only grinned as Lucifer resisted the urge of hanging all of you upside down.

#kinda cheesy but oh well #satan being a mischievous big bro who influences the younger sibling #i honestly don't know how to write #especially satan but i hope this was decent #obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #om x reader #obey me x mc #platonic #obey me fanfiction #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #platonic reader #obey me x platonic reader

[paradisoperdita]

Waking Up at The Angel's Halo

A Simeon X MC drabble

Genre: fluff

The wind howled through the ash trees outside the window. Branches surrendered their leaves to the summer storm; plucked violently in their prime, the wind toyed with each vibrant speckle of green against a silver sky. Shots of rain collided with the glass and rolled down the pane in miniature streams. Ethereal light crept into the modestly furnished apartment. Situated above the coffee shop, the cosy box room was far cry from the lavish interior of Purgatory Hall. Despite only recently moving in, it was clear who lived here. A mahogany writing desk was squeezed by the window, next to the radiator, with a matching high back chair. The rocking chair rested in the corner of the room, a crocheted cushion in its seat. At the foot of the small double-bed was a large walnut chest, fastened by a visible lock and an invisible charm. The familiar scent of freshly ground coffee, vanilla sponge, and baked bread wafted through the crack under the door.

You groaned as your stomach forced you awake. Your face was nestled into something warm and soft, Simeon’s heartbeat barely audible against the muffled storm outside. His nightshirt had been tossed carelessly onto the floor. Simeon had abandoned it during the night in favour of keeping you close in spite of the oppressive heat. When you are close to him like this it’s easy to forget that you belong to different worlds. The only indication of your differences being the papery fragility of an angel’s skin; a stark contrast to the sturdy musculature underneath. You allowed your hands to roam along the vales and knolls of Simeon’s body. A landscape you loved dearly. Fingers tracing slowly and delicately lest you wake the sleeping angel. Each journey of your touch transcribed a new meaning of ‘devotion’.

You pecked his lips. He pretended to stay asleep. You smiled into your next kiss, lingering teasingly until he playfully reciprocated. The duet of your lips moved in harmony, reaching a conclusion that was tantalisingly gentle. He fluttered awake and gazed at you with an honesty only the haze of sleep can provide.

“Mm...I have never known a more divine pleasure than being roused by the sunshine saved behind your eyes, or to slumber with the waning crescent of your smile.” His voice rasped as he broke into a yawn. He tucked you closer and nestled into your form. A contented moan rumbled in his throat. “My beloved...” his voice trailed off into a series of kisses.

The relaxed tangle of your limbs were buried under fresh cotton sheets. Sounds of movement and conversation from downstairs crept into the room.

“You should be out of bed.” You looked into his eyes, attempting to sharpen your tongue to nudge him into action. He smiled wryly.

“You’re right, I should be out of bed.” He pulled the duvet up to his eyes and shuffled in deeper.

“Then why aren’t you moving?”

“I thought you were simply stating a fact, my sweet, not giving me an instruction.” His eyes smiled tauntingly. Words were his weapons and his playthings. Even first thing in the morning, his wit was razor sharp. You sighed and sat up.

“Stop equivocating and move your butt.”

He chuckled and followed you as you rolled out of bed. Bookended by laughter, impromptu slow-dancing, and strings of kisses, the two of you eventually got dressed and made your way into the café’s kitchen.

Luke had already been busy preparing the shop for the morning customers. The counter nearly full of still warm loaves and unconstructed cakes. His expression was a mixture of frustration and relief. Frustration because Simeon had joined him much later than usual and left most of the preparation for the day to Luke. Relief because...

“Good morning!” Solomon chirped as he stopped in front of Luke, who was discreetly trying to move him away from the ingredients. Simeon smiled, but not with his eyes.

“Solomon, I wasn’t expecting you! I cannot describe how good it is to see you in my kitchen.” His tone dangerously friendly.

Solomon’s expression brightened, seemingly unaware of the true meaning behind his words. There was a universe of things that Simeon could describe: the sound of a honeybee disturbing a dewdrop, the despair of falling into an eternal oblivion, or the transcendental power of true love. However, Simeon could not describe how 'good' it is to have Solomon in his kitchen, because Solomon in any kitchen is never 'good'. You delicately pried the frying pan from Solomon’s hands.

“It’s probably best you wait out front before Simeon tells you what he really thinks.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me simeon #obey me Solomon #obey me x reader #om Simeon X MC #om Simeon X reader #om gn! mc #perdita writes #I just wanted to try something different and I was in a Simeon mood #credit to the talented writers who have done this idea far better than I could

[obeiii-mee]

———————————-

To celebrate his birthday, I’ve done a few HCs for Satan because I’ve got nothing else planned for him at the moment and I’m still spending most of my time editing my last self sacrificing MC being saved post which should be out before Halloween. And I’m salty I missed Mammon’s bday event too but I do have something in regards to that waiting around in my inbox so I probably just need to start being more motivated lol-

———————————-

Satan, the Avatar of Wrath:

>The demon that has tried to sneak strays into the House of Lamentation on multiple occasions. Whether they’d be cats from DevilDom or the Human Realm, he would whisk them off the streets and let them loose around the house on a daily basis. It was living hell for you and the rest of the brothers because even the smallest of the kittens wreaked absolute havoc everywhere they went; vases and plates were broken, there were paw prints all over the place (including the ceiling somehow), most of Asmo’s make up was left in ruins after a particularly bad incident. Lucifer had to put his foot down after he found cat hair in his coffee one morning.

>His book addiction is also getting almost as taxing as Beel’s midnight raids. Most of his purchases on Akuzon are expensive, ancient, leather-bound books and scrolls and not only are they not cheap-he also buys heaps of them at a time which started taking a toll on the bills Lucifer has to pay. It’s unclear whether he’s doing it on purpose to spite his brother or if it’s because he’s genuinely interested in such old literature. Everyone else guesses that it’s a mixture of both.

>You let him drive one time when he was visiting you in the Human Realm. Thank fuck you had such a good car warranty because the road rage he feels when behind the wheel is real. Bro probably broke your pedals and gearstick with how aggressive he was being and that was BEFORE some asshole decided to cut him off really abruptly in the middle of a traffic jam. Mf lost it after that-almost forgot you were in there with him, he was about ready to turn people’s bones into mashed potatoes with how many times he intended to run them over once he had the chance. Never again💀

>Satan volunteers to be his brothers’ tutor from time to time, with the exception of Lucifer since the eldest doesn’t really need it and he would not offer his services to him in the first place lol. He figured it wouldn’t do him any good to allow his siblings to drag his perfect scores down with their disgusting, averagely low grades so he decided they would all need a helping hand. Mammon especially, who are we kidding? Ah, turns out he’s pretty good at it too, even if studying with him is a little scary every now and then (both him and Lucifer give off ‘doing homework with your dad at the kitchen table and crying while doing it because he’s yelling’ vibes, but them and their brothers-)

>He’s responsible for most of the paintings in the house. Ngl, he shows up every few weeks with some really fancy masterpiece that just got released and proceeds to hang it randomly around the halls. Most of his siblings haven’t noticed. Neither have you. And he hasn’t said anything. Every once in a while, you look up and notice some dramatic ass painting that you swear you’ve never laid eyes on before, and then you shrug it off and assume it’s always been there and that your memory is just failing you. Mammon has stolen a few and sold them online because it’s Mammon. They were always back by the second day or so though (can imagine Satan buying all that shit back from the black market Mammon was selling it on, lmao)

>I said this before, but he smells really nice. Like…firewood….and books…and just homely stuff in general. That’s it. That’s the headcanon.

>Secretly loves hanging out with his family. He makes it seem like he always has better things to do but he doesn’t want to admit he enjoys spending time with any of his brothers, and this especially applies to Lucifer because who’d want to be around that prideful prick, huh? But the fourth born is usually the first to start planning out things like movies nights and family gatherings and he seems so excited to do it as well. By that I mean that he gets proper into it and works really hard on a family date for weeks! Is not very outwards with his feelings but he’s really happy to see everyone having a good time when he knows that he put so much effort into it. Bonus points if you decide to help him sort everything out-

>(Mammon made him a cat-shaped cake for his birthday and it didn’t come out the best-at least not compared to everyone else’s-but Satan proceeded to eat the whole thing and didn’t even say anything about it besides a ‘thank you’. Mammon bawled his eyes out in your room afterwards but don’t tell a soul. Also, you found out Satan knew his brother spend like 8 hours in the kitchen trying to make the damn thing and that’s why he barely even touched the rest of the desserts just so he could eat his even if the cake itself looked pretty dreadful. Ahhhhhhhh-)

-K, I’m done now. I need more brotherly headcanons between the bros cuz it’s adorable——

——————————-

#obey me #obey me satan #📚 #📚 satan supremacy #om! satan HCs #HCs #happy birthday satan #a bit late but oh well #there’s not even that many haha #I liked making these tho

[lunarflux]

hwang hyunjin x reader

genre — angst!au

hookup to lover

suggested background music: (click the x)

note: i am so so sorry idk what happened with this one. i was listening to one song, and as my playlist changed, the storyline changed so i did a lot of tweaking to keep with the mood. i did my best to characterize a backstory for the mc x hyunjin lol i like to write about these "moments" that let the reader continue the story on their own, so i hope this is okay??

x

.

.

.

Hot water hit the back of your neck before trickling down the curves of your back.

No music, no distractions, but here in the steam, enveloped in a warmth akin to his, these were the only thoughts, combing through the air like water under lily pads.

Watching the remnants of bubbles sliding down your legs and onto the porcelain, you sighed through the fog.

He seemed to be all you could think of lately.

You two had known each other for years. Childhood dreams came and went, and the years spent apart from the other seemed like nothing. It was like you two always found your way back. Between the heartbreaks, he'd be there. After the storm was over, he'd be there like a flower waiting for sunlight.

After your first breakup, he appeared like the first night of pleasant dreams after a year of nightmares. Hyunjin was just always there until he wasn't. The spaces in between the time you shared were always spent with other people, almost like you two didn't know how to talk when someone else was around. The world you built was only made for him.

How many more days until your little daydream flitted away like the memories of yesterday morning? You couldn't remember lunch, but you remembered dinner and the after, sitting beside him as his eyes slowly closed, his temple hitting your shoulder.

You didn't dare remind him that he fell asleep intertwined with you in his sheets before slipping out in the morning.

The routine of falling in love with a romantic who wasn't yet ready for you became your weeknights, and it crept into the weekend. Sleeping next to your faux lover, using Monday mornings to figure out what exactly you two were - these were your weeks, and it continued throughout the years.

He wasn't your boyfriend - no, you coiled together, you spoke in a language made for your tongues alone, and when the night fell, all you could see were stars and the moonlight resting on his pillow, ever so intimately resting on his cheeks.

It was always a dreaded question.

What are we?

You never wanted to ask. The question frightened you - you couldn't imagine how much it terrified him. The thought of solidifying what you were to him seemed all too intimidating.

Although.

Maybe I do love him.

And again.

Do I love him?

Saying it out loud was the scariest part. Once it was said out loud, you couldn't take it back. It was there. It was truth. It was matter floating through the air, and it drifted away like a kite to the clouds.

Stepping out of the shower, the moments slowly came back.

Quietly locking his door with the spare key he left under the mat. Catching a taxi back to your small apartment. Falling asleep again on the couch before waking up just as the sun hit the horizon. Washing away the remnants of his scent - though, you could swear it was everywhere - in your hair, on your clothes, forever dancing over your skin like he could never be scrubbed away.

(1 new message - Hyunjin)

Why'd you leave?

You hated it when he did this. You hated him. And you loved him. You hated how he would call, and you couldn't resist saying yes. You hated how he'd say he could only fall asleep when it was next to you. You hated the way he looked at you.

You swore he looked at you like he loved you.

Tossing your phone back onto you bed, you went through the rest of your morning, hoping your next cup of coffee would bring the life back into your face.

Hyunjin always managed to reappear in your life whenever you finally forgot about him. It was like he was waiting. He only wanted you when you didn't belong to anyone else, and yet he never did enough to make you his.

Annoyed.

Aggravated.

Every heated emotion you could feel would course through your veins when you thought about him, yet you couldn't bring yourself to say no.

And you were only ever like that with him.

**

x

He knocked on your door at 3pm.

"Why'd you leave?" He recited straight from his text message, still left with no response on your phone.

You shrugged, letting him walk into your apartment without giving him an answer.

"Did I do something?" He grabbed your hand.

It was like something snapped. The button no one dared to press was suddenly slammed into, and everything came spilling out.

"Why do we only do this when you know I've moved on?" You said, spite glossing over your words almost like you wanted it to hurt. "You knew - you knew I'd finally gotten over my ex, and you called, like it was a routine, you knew I wasn't attached anymore. Why do we still do this?"

Hyunjin's grip on your hand was still steady. "I don't know what you want."

"Honestly, I don't either. Something... not this."

He always pulled you in so effortlessly. When Hyunjin hugged you, he would hold your face in his chest like he wanted you to hear his heart beating. He would nuzzle his face into your neck. It was never forceful, but it kept you still.

You leaned way, keeping him at a small distance. This was the first time he'd ever really seen you bare - no makeup, no filter, no effort to prove you were okay being his "maybe".

How many times can you fall in love with one person?

"Tell me what you want." Hyunjin spoke quietly.

He'd never had problems telling you how he felt about the others, girls who came and went. Superficial relationships that would be dedicated for a month and then no more.

"Tell me what to do - just talk to me."

"That's not something we do." You hissed. "We don't talk - we fuck, and you talk. About your hookups, your relationships, you just go on like it doesn't bother me." Backing away to the wall, you could feel your cheeks burn. "I hate it."

"Do you hate me?"

"Maybe I do." You nodded, you head hanging down. "I hate being this - this thing - this space you use when you need someone. I don't want to be the space between moments - I don't want to be the 'pause' between the girls you fall in love with"

Hyunjin almost looked satisfied with your response. This was the first time you'd gotten angry with him, and he knew it. He knew you held your tongue around him. He wasn't blind. He just wanted you to expose yourself to him. The intimacy was a step through the door, but it wasn't enough to make it home.

"I just - I want -"

Grabbing your shoulders firmly, Hyunjin made you look up at him, tears gripping your eyelashes.

"What do you want?"

The look in his eyes was the look of clarity. He asked this same question, but he had his own answer.

A small pur of a sigh, the motion letting the tears fall one by one. "I don't want to see you with anyone else."

He let you cry for a moment until your breaths were steady again. Stroking your cheek with his thumb, he kissed your forehead. His breath moved through your hair.

"I just want you to stay here." You whispered.

"Okay." He leaned into you, his hands on either side of the wall behind you. "I'll stay."

"But -"

"Whatever you want." Hyunjin's eyes were so close. "I'll stay here forever if you want me to."

"I don't understand."

"If I asked you to be with me when we first met, I thought you'd feel unfulfilled. We were so young, and we hadn't lived our lives yet. I would've been content to be with you until you said you didn't want me anymore. I wanted you to live and be done wandering until you were ready to just be mine and no one else's. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed."

The vague childhood jokes Hyunjin used to play on you began to replay themselves behind his words. The times he'd laugh and say "you should date him" - you hated it, but you understood.

"I had to learn how to love other people before I could love you - properly."

He loves me?

"That was the only kind of love you deserved - a proper, complete love. I've done what I needed to do. I made my mistakes, and I took the hard way out of my problems." Hyunjin kissed you sweetly, his lips moving slowly and carefully before pulling away. "I wanted to grow up, so I could love you properly." He rested his forehead on yours, his nose brushing against yours.

His hands gripped your hips firmly before he backed away, letting you see his face clearly.

"Are you ready for me?"

#skz #skz x reader #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin skz #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x oc #hyunjin x o/c #hyunjin angst #skz angst #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #romance #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #x reader #angst #kpop scenarios #kpop stray kids #skz imagines

[zetadraconis11]

HL Incorrect Quote #42

Ominis: MC, are...you okay? You sound a little tired.

MC: Oh, I've just been spending all night looking for some demiguise statues. Those little buggers only light up then, and I'm trying to get rid of them.

Poppy: You're getting plenty of sleep, though, right?

MC: Let's see...what's today?

Sebastian: ...Tuesday.

MC: Okay, so, yeah, I haven't slept since Wednesday.

The group:

MC: Oh, and I can smell color! Isn't that cool? Who would have thought the color yellow would smell like cinnamon?

Natty: Alright, I'm getting Garreth. We need someone to brew a Sleeping Draught.

Sebastian: Wait, now I'm curious why yellow smells like cinnamon-

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy incorrect quotes #I headcanon so hard that mc was sleep deprived during the fifth year #all those side quests and errands including that demiguise hunting one #mc was living on coffee and spite #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #poppy sweeting #natsai onai

[qrowesque]

Obey me! brothers reacting to a MC with Tourettes syndrome

Including brothers Mammon, Levi, Satan and Belphegor

stole some of the headcanons in here from @nanamiharuka-1 who also requested this to be done

Mammon

first impression? he thought there was something wrong with MC or some kind of creature had possessed them

he complained to Lucifer of course

insert the face palm cuz lucifer told him to 'deal with it'

after teaming up with Levi to make the pact

Mammon stopped reacting as much to the MC's tics and got used to them

lmao rude ass bitch

he of course began to tease MC since he was forced into spending time with them

MC told him they would be absolutely perfect with a tic that kicks him

when Mammon started warming up to MC every time a demon would make a rude comment or talk behind their back about the tics or anything in general he'd beat their ass the severity depending on the comment

he would pat MC's head or show them affection when they felt insecure about their TS

and he would do his best to comfort and help MC even tho he probably wouldn't know what to do during an anxiety attack a tic had caused

"Don't worry about those other shitty demons, the Great Mammon is here to protect you!"

Levi

he wasn't too sure how to go about with MC's tics at first but since he's always been judged about being a 'disgusting otaku' he thought he'd just let them be instead of doing what he hates

sometimes he did go and purposely trigger the tics MC has to spite them

he was worried about the tics was because he didn't want to be caught 'hanging with a normie'

MC and him spent time together playing games or watching TSL

he loved every second cuz ~~he finally had a friend~~ he could make the normies understand why TSL is better than live action shows

Levi found it adorable how MC could sometimes pick up tics from the animes they'd watch together

"UWWWAAHHH THAT'S WHAT RURI-CHAN SAID ON EPISODE 24 OF *long ass anime title*"

tho he did really hate it when MC's vocal tics would happen during the animes he'd watch

because Levi has social anxiety he knew a good deal with how to help with anxiety and panic attacks

he would get MC to play games and watch animes they liked to help them calm down

of course MC got cuddles with Levi while binging animes

"Even if you can't stop your motor tics sometimes, it's fine. Lucifer has hit me 100 times harder."

Satan

ok at first Satan was a bitch about this

of course he knew about TS before MC had popped up

he's got a room made of books so nobody was surprised when he blurted "Oh, you have Tourettes syndrome." during introductions

but he's an angy boi so what did he do?

yeah he triggered MC's tics sometimes if he was in a bad mood or they got on his nerves

he wouldn't go out of his way to know what triggered which tic

but if he found out he'd make a mental note of it

he absolutely hated the motor tics

"Go take your tics to Lucifer and let me read in peace"

haha he wouldn't allow MC in his room for weeks after a tic caused a whole pile of books to fall

He got used to the tics since the two were forced to stay at the same home

the only time Satan was probably ok with them was when they managed to spill the tea Lucifer was drinking by accident

MC managed to fluster Satan from a 'nya' tic they had developed from watching too much anime with Levi

he's able to help with the anxiety attacks since he knows how to keep his emotions in check

he always made sure to comfort MC after and bought them a kitty coffee

he's always excited for the next time you cause trouble for Lucifer

"Wow Lucifer, that's a shame you can't hurt MC. Hopefully, they don't spill your tea on you again."

Belphegor

jesus fucking christ this bitch boy ran off of pure spITE from MC's tics

Belphegor would actively look for the causes and trigger MC's tics whenever he could

bonus points for him if it caused Lucifer trouble

at first he wanted to punt MC into the sun for many reasons

sometimes MC's tics would wake him up

"You have 3 seconds, start running."

Mc had to be saved from Belphie multiple times throughout their stay

when he learned how to cause MC to develop tics he would go out of his way to give them tics directed at Lucifer

one time while the brothers were having a seemingly too peaceful time during a meal Belphegor triggered one of the tics he gave MC

"Fuck you, Lucifer!"

"Belphegor, wHAT did you dO!?"

he and MC became partners in crime along with satan

Lucifer hate squad trio (but MC doesn't hate Luci they just do it for kicks)

Belphie tho would literally just either sit there while MC had an anxiety attack and say "cool" and leave or another real-life scenario of "Saving MC" would happen

tho once he started warming up to MC he wouldn't know what to do during the anxiety or panic attacks

but he would offer naptime cuddles after since MC must have been exhausted after

"Wipe your tears and come nap with me, MC. It's happened before and you live each time. Nothing bad will happen to you while I'm here."

-

If anybody wants to add any criticism to that, that'd be great since i dont deal with TS myself

#i feel like i butchered this whole headcanons series #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me belphegor #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan

[final-servamp-banter]

White Day Event: Mikuni

This man is way too cocky I love him

Mikuni: [Your name]-san? Ahh, it’s me. …Huh? Could it be that you’re outside right now? Was it okay that I called you?

Mikuni: Yeah, about tomorrow. Of course you have time, right?

You: (…… Tomorrow……)

Player Choices:

1. I have time

2. I don’t have time

Option 1:

Mikuni: Yeah, I know. You’ve kept it free.

Option 2:

Mikuni: Eh? Ahaha, well, setting that joke aside.

[Rest is the same]

Mikuni: Exactly, tomorrow is White Day. There’s a store I want to go to, would you come with me?

Mikuni: All right, see you tomorrow.

(He hangs up)

You: (It’s rare to meet Mikuni outside of the Land of Nod…)

~ 3/14 ~

Mikuni: Hmm, maybe this one… Or maybe this…

Mikuni: Which one would be good as new spring clothes… Hey, [Your name]-san, what do you think of this yellow green one?

You: (… Hmmm…?)

Player Choices:

1. I think they suit you well, Mikuni-san

2. They’re a bit too flashy for me…

3. Who do you plan to give it to?

Option 1:

Mikuni: Eh? Me?

Mikuni: Oh, no~~ no, you’re accompanying me to choose Abel’s new spring clothes~!

Mikuni: Really, what kind of criteria have you been nodding along with until now? I’m asking if this would suit Abel.

Option 2:

Mikuni: Eh? You?

Mikuni: Oh, no~~ no, you’re accompanying me to choose Abel’s new spring clothes~!

Mikuni: Really, what kind of criteria have you been nodding along with until now? I’m asking if this would suit Abel.

Option 3:

Mikuni: Eh? You’re asking………… who I’ll give it to?

Mikuni: Isn’t it obvious that they’re for Abel~? Really, what kind of criteria have you been nodding along with until now?

[Rest is the same]

Mikuni: After a~ll, it can’t be helped, can it? Abel wasn’t feeling well today, so they couldn’t come, you know~

You: (Abel-chan was… not feeling well…?)

Player Choices:

1. It’s right at the change of the season, so… they have a cold, right?

2. Did someone break their heart?

Option 1:

Mikuni: A cold? ………… What are you saying? Abel’s a doll, you know? There’s no way they could catch a cold… Maybe you’re the one who’s gotten sick…?

Option 2:

Mikuni: Heartbeak? ………… What are you saying? Abel’s a doll, you know? They can’t get their heart broken or anything like that… Maybe you’re the one who’s gotten sick…?

[Rest is the same]

Mikuni: Well, that’s why Abel couldn’t come, so I asked you instead.

Mikuni: All right, come here for a moment, to look at the accessories.

Mikuni: I’ll hold them up to you, so stay still over there. Maybe this one~… No, this one…

Mikuni: Ah, these ones might be the best. It seems like there are real flower in these earrings. What do you think? Put them on and look in the mirror.

Mikuni: ………… They’re cute? All right, then I’ll take these. (to the cashier) Excuse me, I’d like these. Could you wrap them, please?

You: (Wrapping them…)

Player Choices:

1. (I don’t think Abel-chan’s interested in their gift being wrapped…)

2. (Won’t he have to open them himself when he gets home…?)

3. (I wonder if he always does things like this on his own…)

Option 1 & Option 2:

Mikuni: ………… All right, here, for you.

Option 3:

Mikuni: …… What’s with that look~? You look like you want to say something~?

Mikuni: ………… All right, here, for you.

[Rest is the same]

Mikuni: …… Ahaha, you’re asking if they weren’t meant for Abel? That was obviously a joke, don’t you think~?

Mikuni: As a thank you for coming along with me today… Well,

Mikuni: Yeah, they look good on you.

[End]

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

T/N: So, when you ask what’s wrong with poor little Abel, the second choice gave me some trouble; literally it would be “Did someone fall out of love with them?” or “Did someone commit spiteful words or acts showing that they are disgusted with them?”; figured that’d most likely mean in this case broken-hearted. Theoretically, it could also be interpreted as asking whether either Abel has stopped wanting anything to do with Mikuni or vice versa - we can be pretty sure Mikuni is still very attached to his Abel, at least, but yeah, there is a chance we’re not asking if Abel’s broken-hearted but whether Abel broke up with Mikuni, kinda lmao. (Well, whether Mikuni has been broken up with by Abel, but that’s very clunky in English).

When you and Mikuni are looking at earrings, the word he uses is a little unclear - It could just mean “I’ll give them to you”, which is possible, but the rest doesn’t sound like he’s just handing them to you. So I’m assuming he’s basically using you as a living manequin and e.g. holding the earrings up to your ears to see if they suit you :3

Why does the MC use the word for “peel” or “flay” when it comes to unwrapping the earrings. Why didn’t I find just “unwrap” as a translation for the word the MC does use. What kind of skeletons are in the MC’s closet??

So, Mikuni’s second to last line. Is a pain. Now, I think I have figured out the meaning, but please know that translating has taken away a lot of interesting things about his choice of words:“Konna atodashi no kanshuu ni odorasareru”. Not too interesting here are “konna” (this) and “kanshuu” (tradition, custom); but atodashi and odorasaseru are. “Atodashi” means a move in rock-paper-scissors when you wait for your opponent to show what they picked before you pick your own. (The kanji themselves read “koushutsu” and just mean “later” or “following”, but there’s no verb with that reading that ends with -su). Now, “odorasaseru”. “Odoru” means dance; “odorasu”, however, means “manipulate” (In German there’s the idiom “Jemandem nach der Pfeife tanzen”, idk if “To dance after somebody’s pipe” or “To dance to somebody’s tune” is a saying in English, too). However, it’s passive, so, “was manipulated by” (the atodashi custom = White Day). So, what Mikuni means is that, in addition to it being a thanks for accompanying him, today being White Day also played a part in it. But both opting to call it “being manipulated” and using terms from what’s kinda a children’s game feel kinda relevant to Mikuni as a character, so, have this knowledge.

Imagine you’re on a date with a dude and he goes “Well, I wanted to bring my doll, but I’ll have to make do with you :/”. I can’t even be mad though because he looks so cute in this Event. Please look at this, that’s just not fair!

[ID: A picture of Mikuni from Servamp, holding a cup of coffee and wearing a green scarf and a white sweatshirt. He’s lacking his usual cowboy hat, and looks almost bashful, as he has a slight smile and is looking to the bottom-right of the picture instead of straight ahead.]

#Servamp #mikuni alicein #alicein mikuni #Servamp Mikuni #Mikuni Servamp #Tanaka Box #Translation #White Day Event #Servamp White Day Event #... okay so logically Mikuni WOULD usually go shopping alone with Abel and MAYBE Jeje around his neck in snek form #But imagine him actually going shopping with human form Jeje #And just talking the whole time while Jeje is just. there. Wondering when they can finally go home again ashdjkasdhkja

[bangtan-madi]

noel on ice — kim namjoon

Pairing — Namjoon x Reader, feat. minor mention of Jungkook x OC

Genre — fluff, holiday, minor angst, mental health

Tags — strangers to lovers, figure skater!Namjoon, barista!MC, non-idol au, figure skater au, café au, holiday au

Word Count — 16k

Summary —  After sustaining a crushing defeat at the World Figure Skating Championships, falling from his perfect gold standard to his long-time rival, Kim Namjoon returns to South Korea with an unsure heart and accompanying injury. At the same time, Y/N is as far from home as she has ever been due to a falling out with her family, working as a barista at a café in Seoul while trying to finish her degree. As if by fate, the two meet, and Namjoon makes it his goal to make Y/N see the magic of the holidays -- one Christmas adventure across Seoul at a time. 

Warnings — minor language, brief anxiety attack, mentions of ptsd related symptoms

A/N — This year has been a very difficult one for us all. For my fic in this Christmas collab, I wanted to acknowledge all of that and give a little mental health break for everyone. All of our experiences have been different, but one thing we all have in common is that 2020 was unexpected, painful, and heavy. Please, no matter what holiday you celebrate, let yourself have as much rest and healing as you need. If this little, probably-needs-more-editing-than-I-had-time-for fic can help you get there — even just for the twenty minutes it takes to read — then my job is done ❤️ I love you all, and I know I speak for the others when I say I hope 2021 treats us all so much kinder, and I hope we learn to love ourselves in spite of our worlds around us.

Playlist — Link here.

Christmas Collaboration — this fic is a part of the Christmas Collab by @kooala (link coming soon!)

"Hey—Hey, are you even listening to me?"

Raising your head slightly, your eyes widening as you realize you've zoned out again, focusing on the snowfall outside instead of the next customer in line. The woman waving her hand in front of you is as foreign to South Korea as you are, but her expression is entirely that of an angry American. Her scowl has etched deep lines into her skin, where smile lines should be.

Unfortunately, her face is all too familiar. Usually it pays to be one of the only native English-speakers at your café; however, when Americans come in, you're the one pushes to take their orders and serve them.

Even the most difficult ones.

"S—Sorry, Ma'am," you mutter. Shaking your head, you force a customer-service smile. "I was just admiring the snowfall. Isn't it beautiful?"

"Oh, yeah," she retorts sarcastically. "So beautiful that it's making travel home nearly impossible. Can you please just make my drink so I can leave?"

"I—I didn't hear it, Ma'am. Can you repeat it please?"

While the woman rolls her eyes, she repeats her order swiftly, muttering something along the lines of, "Baristas these days, I swear to god," under her breath. "Make sure to get it right this time. Every time I come in and order a blended cappuccino, you guys end up giving me a latte, which is not what I ordered."

"And every time, we have to explain that all a latte is, is a blended cappuccin—"

"—I don't want to hear it!"

With a sigh, you ring up the total for the "blended cappuccino, not latte" and let the woman pay. From the sidelines, your co-worker Lisa stands with a glare and a tin of heated milk ready to go for your order.

"Ms. Blended cappuccino again?" she asks as you turn towards her with a note written in perfect Hangul.

You nod, running  a hand over your hair in frustration. "I hate being the only native bi-lingual person here. Means I get to deal with her every damn time."

Sensing your downtrodden spirit, Lisa pushes you out of the way, giving you a gentle shove towards the back room. "I got this one. Go take a breather in the back, okay?"

"But—"

"—Ah! No buts. I know enough English to get by."

From the front desk, the woman pipes up again, demanding her drink be made faster. Lisa marches past your, arms herself with the imaginary drink, and says in perfect English, "You're in Seoul now. Speak Korean."

Knowing Lisa can handle the absolute hell-spawn that is an angry American Karen, you turn your back to the drama and shuffle to the break room behind the "employees only" door. An exasperated breath escapes as you revel in the silence, pushing away the muffled café sounds on the other side of the door. Being the only one in the break room, you spot your favorite white chocolate mocha on the side table, with a smiley face sticky note indicating it's from Lisa beside it.

You smile gently at the sweet gesture, and shove the sticky note into your pocket as a reminder to yourself to thank her later.

Taking the mug between your overworked hands, you settle down on the window seat and watch the December sky slowly shift from violet to navy. The mocha is just slightly sweet with a hint of peppermint, just like you like it. It's almost enough to illicit the Christmas spirit lying dormant inside you.

There's something incredibly painful about this particular holiday season, you think to yourself as the cars pass swiftly on the street outside. The glittering lights, the beautiful carols, the crystalline snow — none of it feels the same as last year.  The holidays are supposed to be a time of comfort and renewal, but this year — after moving halfway around the world by yourself — your heart is starting to wonder if that part of you has died.

Maybe it's the loneliness you're feeling, or maybe it's the fact that you're so far away from home. Or maybe it's the fresh-in-your-mind arguments and falling out with your family over the summer. That bitter taste lingers still in the back of your throat, not unlike a dark espresso.  A Christmas season without your parents and siblings; you never thought living your own life and following your happiness could hurt so much. For better or worse, that nostalgic feeling family and friends bring is long gone. And now you're nostalgic for nostalgia itself; what kind of messed up feeling is that?

You've had twenty-four wondrous, magical holiday seasons. Is it part of growing up that your allotment of joyful Christmas days is limited?

Is twenty-five the year that the magic just...stops?

When the night sky becomes unchanging, the door to the café kitchen opens. Lisa peeks her head inside, side-bangs falling in her face. "How's the mocha? Did I get it right?"

You take the last sip with a grateful smile, then place the mug onto the coffee table. "You nailed it. Thank you, I needed that."

Pride swells in Lisa's chest, and her shoulders straighten as she enters the room. "Well, good news. Karen's gone," she announces, "and your favorite customer is here!"

"Who?"

Lisa places her hand horizontally at her hip-level. "About this tall? Loves peppermint hot choco?

Bolting from your seat, all your concerns are momentarily gone. Your co-worker doesn't have to utter another word to get you to exit the back room and reenter the kitchen.

Across the counter, a mop of black hair is barely visible. Dark brown eyes peer over the granite surface; they twinkle and shine at the sight of you. Tiny hands splay on the surface in an attempt to make the small child taller. He's around seven to eight years, you estimate. Nine or ten at the very most. Definitely not out of primary school. And he's your very favorite customer, because unlike most, this child comes in with a toothy grin almost every single day with enough money for a peppermint hot chocolate. He's never late, and he's never unhappy. If the Sun were to bless the world with a ray of sunshine in human form, this kid would be it.

"Ahjumma!" the little boy shouts, a grin plastered on his face.

Instead of having him crane his neck, you walk around the counter, bend down on one knee, and ignore the other customers behind him. Pulling one of the tiny baked goods from your apron pocket, you offer the sweet to the child with a wink.

"You're here awfully late, Yeongu. You're usually here right after school lets out. It's already after dark."

Yeongu digs through his pocket and pulls out several crumpled won, enough for his beverage of choice. "Tomorrow is the last day before Christmas break, so dad picked me up and took me skating. I'm with mom and her boyfriend for the rest of the month 'cause Dad's going to Busan with his new wife. I don't like her that much. She frowns too much. And she smells like soju and taffy."

You exchange the won for the baked treat, laughing softly as you invite the boy onto the corner table nearest the hot chocolate machines. "You don't like taffy, do you?"

He makes a face and takes a big bite of the delicacy. "My teacher tells us that if we eat taffy, it will help us remember things. I ate too much of it last year, and now I hate it. Dad's new wife must always be forgetting things, because she always smells like it!"

After finishing the simple drink, you slide the mug across the table and plop down in the seat across from the small boy. "So does this mean I won't get to see you until after Christmas?"

Yeongu shakes his head. "I'll be by tomorrow after. Mom wanted to visit my cousin before we left. He's back in town for Christmas, and we haven't seen him in a long time."

"Oh? What does he do?"

"Sports."

At that, the boy changes the conversation. "What are you doing for Christmas, Ahjumma?"

"Yeah, Ahjumma," Lisa pipes up after serving the final to-go customer for the night. She flips the sign on the front door and turns back to the two of you, hand on her hip. "What are you doing for your first Christmas in Korea?"

Shrugging slightly, you turn your attention back to the small child across from you. "I'll probably spend the day with Mochi — my cat — probably studying so I'll be ahead in the new year for my next classes." Lisa gives an empathetic look at the mention of your kitten, which causes you to roll your eyes playfully. "Don't give me that look! I'll be fine. Probably best for me to have a relaxed, non-hectic couple of days. This year has been a rough one."

"That sounds sad," Yeongu states bluntly, earning a snicker from Lisa.

"Kid's right. Absolutely dreadful, [Y/n]. What a lame Christmas."

"What about you, then? Do you have any plans for Christmas?"

At the question, Lisa's smirk drops and she perks up. "Well, I'm sure you know, but Christmas in Korea is pretty different from America," Lisa reminds you, and you nod your acknowledgement. "It's more of a couple holiday, so my boyfriend Jungkook and I are planning to take the week off and do a ton of holiday activities together. Mostly outdoors stuff. Y'know, snowboarding, skiing, snowball fights — the usual."

"Sounds like a blast," you laugh.

"Oh, it will be." She gives a wink, then nods to Yeongu. "Are we about done here? I need to head out if you're okay with locking up for the night."

You give a wave of approval as the child nears the end of his glass. "I got this. Say hello to Jungkookie for me."

Lisa flashes a set of extravagant finger hearts before disappearing into the back, where she gathers her personal items and exits out the rear entrance. In her absence, Yeongu tugs on your sleeve and holds up an empty mug.

"Thank you for the hot choco, Ahjumma," he grins, showing the dark stain on his upper lip.

Taking the mug, you use the edge of your apron to clean the mess from his face. "If you come by tomorrow before you leave with your Eomma, I'll make you another with extra peppermint, okay?"

The boy's smile grows, and he hops up from the table with a swift bow. "I'll be here!" He heads for the door with a skip in his step.

"Will you get home all right?" you call after him.

Yeongu turns and grins. "I will, don't worry, Ahjumma!"

And then he's gone, out the door in a rush of energy and giggles towards his home nearby. You merely shake your head; there's no point in going after him now.

Soon after, you're following in his step. It doesn't take you long to clean up. By the time you lock up and exit out the back, snow has begun to fall. You brave the cold, tugging your coat tighter around you, burying your face into your scarf. The journey to the subway is short, and your feet take you quickly. Even still, you stare upward at the snowy clouds in hope that they might spark a semblance of Christmas joy in your heart.

Tonight, like every other night, nothing changes.

You heave a sigh, and the breath billows out as a visible fog as you enter the station. Going through the motions to get to your apartment is easy. A swipe of a card, a short ride to the edge of the neighborhood, and a trek up the set of stairs. Once through the door, you're greeted by a mewing shadow of a cat.

"Hi, my baby girl," you greet with a soft smile, bending down to scratch the tiny fur ball behind the ears. The black cat rubs her chin against your palm and follows you when you waltz to the kitchen. "You hungry?"

As if responding, "Yes!" Mochi speeds up and meows a bit louder than last time.

Her antics bring a smile to your face as you turn on the television for background noise. You find the nearest Korean news station, finding the program in the middle of a report on Korea's favorite rap duo and their upcoming tour: Suga and J-Hope. Your intention with the selection is two-fold — first, to continue to enhance your skills of the Korean language, and two, to continue learning about the culture and world of your new home. While you had extensive knowledge of both before moving to Seoul — despite the process being rather quick due to the fallout with your family — nothing compares to being immersed in the country itself.

As the musical entertainment section ends, you begin pulling ingredients out of the fridge and cupboard. "What do you think sounds good, Mochi? How about teokbokki?" The black cat perches her paws on your right leg, purring pleasantly. "I agree, sounds great after a long day."

You toss a bag of rice cakes onto the counter as the news changes to sports. Even as you prepare the sauce for the meal, you actively listen to the voices in the background.

"Unfortunately, RM Nam's ice skating season has been cut short due to an unforeseen injury he sustained during practice this summer. At the time, the damage to his shoulder seemed unnoticed by the athlete and his coach. However, as we saw earlier this October at the Grant Prix Series: Skate America, Mr. Nam's mishap on the ice turned out to be far more damaging than originally thought. Thus, the position representing South Korea at the next in the series, Skate Canada, was shifted to his rival, Kim Seokjin, and RM Nam returned home to Seoul to recover."

You can't but help a glance up at the screen. The skater in question has his back turned to the cameras as he heads into the airport. Behind his sunglasses, mask, and beanie, he offers a polite smile and wave to the reporters. Moments later, his coach guides him into the building, out of sight.

"That doesn't sound fun," you mutter to yourself as the report moves onto politics.

After you finish cooking, you plate yourself a portion and move into the living room. Besides the tiny tan sofa and the television propped up on a box, most of the room is bare. There are a handful of boxes strewn across the apartment of the few things you either had shipped from the States or that you bought in your six months since then, but for the most part, you've been putting off all of it. Most of your time is spent at work or at school; you haven't had the time, energy, or motivation to do any of it. Even at Christmas, despite Lisa gifting you with your very own tiny tree and twinkle lights to spread across the home, you've yet to unpack any of it. The tree remains in the slender box beside the TV, and you doubt it will go up this year at all.

Heaving a sigh at the thought, you turn the channel to VIKI put on your favorite drama. This particular one is a reincarnation plot with two male leads played by Korea's golden boys: Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung. Paired with the bowl of teokkboki in your lap and the kitten curled to your side, it's enough to drag you thoughts out of homesickness and back to the present.

This might just have to be the Christmas you forget and hope that the next year is a kinder one.

A lot changed in your life this year. In some ways, the changes were good. In others, not so much. Most of the turbulent times were in the heat of the summer, but things began slowing down once you moved to South Korea in September. You were now away from toxic family members, away from a life you never wanted, and looking ahead to an uncertain but certainly hopeful future.

In late October, the seasons began changing for the better — and not just in the physical sense of the falling leaves and cooler breeze. Lisa was right about your favorite customer; it truly was little Yeongu. However, there was another that you looked forward to seeing, just as much as the elementary school boy.

This person was older, around your age, with a deeply dimpled smile that made your stomach flutter. Eyes as slender as his body proportions, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't an attractive man. Hair the color of the snowflakes he walked through, eyes the color of the beverage he'd always order, skin the color of warmth in a cozy fireplace. Even his voice was warm and deep; at every conversation, while you are completely fluent in Korean, you find yourself just wanting to listen to the soft timbre.

Over time, this man — whose name you'd quickly learn was Kim Namjoon — became a regular at your little coffee shop. He'd come in at the oddest hours, either super early or super late. Hours you often worked alone, when there were fewer customers. Every time, he'd strike up a conversation as you took his order and crafted his beverage of choice (a heavy coffee brewed dark and bitter, with just a splash of cream and almond whip.) He was sweet, and eventually you opened up. He'd hang around the counter long after the transaction was completed, sometimes until another customer stole your attention away. It didn't take long for you to realize that he was far more than merely a pretty face.

In those weeks leading up to December, you found yourself smiling a bit more. Joking a bit more. Shoulders lightening a bit more. You looked forward to the increasingly insistent days where he'd waltz in — sometimes covered in raindrops, sometimes in crisp leaves, sometimes in snowflakes — always a crystal blue umbrella under his arm and a charcoal grey scarf around his neck.

It's the same person standing at the entrance now, the man currently shaking the rain from his umbrella and platinum locks. Lisa gives you a smirk as she nods her head towards the register and steps away from the counter, as if silently saying, "You're up, m'lady. Holler if you need me; I'll be doing an order in the back."

You brush your hair back into proper place, display a genuine smile, and take your stance behind the register. When Namjoon's eyes meet yours, his smile deepens and creates dimples on either side of his mouth.

After the customer in front of him pays and leaves with his order in hand, you greet him with a simple, "You haven't been in, in over a week. Finally trying to break your caffeine addiction?"

Namjoon gives a deep laugh and shakes his head. "Not in the slightest. I like being able to function as an adult in society, thank you very much." He pulls out several won from his wallet. "I'll have..."

"The usual?"

He cocks an eyebrow. "You remember?"

"Of course," you grin, and type his drink of choice into the register. Taking his money, you add, "How could I forget your order after the hilarious reaction when I suggested a mint mocha?"

The boy thinks back to the first day he walked into the café, and recalls that conversation with a groan. "Oh god, was I that bad?"

Handing him his change, you tap your chin and reply, "Well, maybe a bit. I'd never seen someone so horrified at the idea of mint chocolate."

Namjoon rubs the back of his neck with an awkward smile. "Sorry about that. Pretty terrible at hiding my disdain for that flavor combo."

"No worries! Made me laugh."

Seeing that there are no other customers behind him, you turn to the brewing station and usher Namjoon to take a seat on the bar stool across the counter. It's a position you've taken several times before. When the customers are low, as they are at this hour of evening, the platinum-haired man tends to linger and converse far after his drink is finished.

"What brings you in today? Just wanted a pick-me-up or?"

Namjoon heaves a sigh. He watches you closely but casually, silently admiring the skillful way you begin to brew the dark beverage. "I've had a lot on my mind lately, and coming here always helps me de-stress."

"Coffee helps you relax?" You can't help but chuckle at the sentiment.

"And the company."

Heat rushes to your face, and when you glance up to meet his gaze, the warmth only increases. "You're smooth, Kim Namjoon. Very smooth."

Brown eyes widen, and he bows his head so that his bangs cover his eyes. "That's not what I meant at all!"

"Calm down, you're fine. Wanna talk about what's on your mind, though?"

In all your conversations, the two of you have only ever talked on the shallow surface of various topics. You don't know much about Namjoon, and he doesn't know much about you — despite having shared extremely vague information about your year, your jobs, and your education. You feel very open with him, but most of the time, those conversations can't be had in a fifteen minute discussion at a café.

"It's a long, complicated story. I'm not sure you'd wanna hear it." He raises his hands defensively as he realizes how his words might be construed. "Not that you wouldn't understand! I just wouldn't want to be a downer."

You select the cold brew setting on the machine and let the device begin to whir to life. "Well, I've got at least the time it takes to make your drink. I'm all ears."

Namjoon shakes his head as he settles his elbows on the counter. "You're persistent."

"Honey, I've been called far worse."

Seeing your eagerness, your companion heaves a sigh and shifts his gaze from you to the window at his right. As be begins to speak, his demeanor falls a bit. He's not as happy-go-lucky; there's an err of anxiety about him that you can't quite nail down. "I've been thinking about a change in career recently. Things haven't been unfolding this year like I wanted...and I'm starting to think I'm not meant to do what I'm doing now. Maybe I need to retire — from this industry, I mean, and move on to another."

Even with that small confession, you can't help but mirror his emotions. "I hear you. I've felt similar feelings this year."

His gaze shifts back to yours, and he tilts his head in surprise. "Really? How so?"

"I told you I moved to Seoul in September, right?" Namjoon nods. "That's because I wanted a...a fresh start. I enrolled in Yonsei University, got a job here, and just...moved."

"That's pretty brave, and that's really awesome you're at Yonsei. They're a fantastic school."

"Thanks," you grin whilst popping the canister of cold brew out from under the brewing machine. "I needed to get away from certain people in my life that weren't letting me move forward, so moving was the best choice." You pour the dark beverage into a small mixer and pull out the vanilla creamer. "Sure you don't want mint this time? Last chance."

Namjoon cocks an eyebrow as a silent challenge; the expression makes you giggle to yourself as you pour the very non-mint add-ins. "Hilarious."

"Hey! Just offering." After giving the mixture a whisk, your smile falters.

Nothing gets by the observant person across the counter. "I feel like your story has a 'but' after what you ended with."

"You're good," you reply, gesturing to him with the handheld whisk. "I'm not talking too much, am I?"

Namjoon shakes his head adamantly and flourishes with his hand for you to continue. "I mean, we're practically friends now. Please, go on."

Reassured by both his calming nature and genuine interest, you continue talking. "But after getting here...let's just say it's hard to make friends and get out there in a country where you look so different, where your language isn't native, and where you know literally no one. So...ah, this year's been a pretty lonely one, and I know I still made the right choice, but now that the holidays are here..." You trail off and offer a small smile. "All that to say, I know what it's like to second-guess yourself and not have things go the way you thought."

"Seems we have a lot in common," he chuckles, leaning his chin on his hand.

The comment causes the mood to lighten, and you let a laugh slip out. "Yeah, seems so."

Before the conversation can continue, the front door opens. Yeongu enters, a couple of other customers behind him. As if on cue, Lisa enters from the back room and greets the adults with a smile and a swift, "Hi, welcome! What can I get you this evening?"

As the child approaches the adjacent counter where you stand, his grin widens. You perch your elbows on the counter and lean over. "How's my favorite customer?"

"I'm finally free from school, Ahjumma!" Yeongu cheers loudly.

"Congrats! I'm sure you're relieved." He nods affirmatively. "t's freezing outside. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, I promise. But can I get a mint hot choco?" He holds up a crumpled bill with a toothy grin.

"Of course, you can. Extra mint, just like I promised." You nod towards the seat closest to the window. "Sit in your usual spot, okay? After I get this nice man his coffee, I'll get your hot chocolate."

As Namjoon turns to look at the child, Yeongu's eyes widen in surprise. "Namjoon-hyung! I didn't know you were here."

Much to your shock, Namjoon reciprocates the affection and hops down from his chair to bend down to Yeongu's level. "Yeon-ie!" He teases the boy by ruffling up his hair, which Yeongu scowls at him for.

"Um... You two know each other?"

"Yep!" Yeongu grins. "He's my cousin, the one I told you about yesterday."

"Oooh, that makes sense. Didn't realize my two favorite customers were related."

Yeongu laughs at the comment and hops into the chair beside Namjoon. "But I'm your favorite customer, right?"

"Of course," you tease, flashing him a playful wink.

"Oh! I almost forgot. Ahjumma, can I please have mine in a to-go cup? Mom told me to come right home so we can finish packing for our trip."

"Of course, give me just a second to get you a lid." You turn to your first customer with an apologetic smile. "Namjoon, I'm almost done with yours. Just give me a moment."

"Actually, do you mind putting mine in a to-go cup as well?" He jerks his thumb towards Yeongu. "I should probably walk him home. He lives just around the corner from me. I'd feel better if I did."

"Oh, sure, I can do that."

"Would you walk with us, Ahjumma? Pleeeease?"

Your gaze moves to Namjoon. "Do you mind?"

The elder cousin hops up from his chair, shaking his head adamantly. "Not at all! Can you?"

"Sure, I'm about at the end of my shift anyway! Let me grab my coat. I'll come with." You turn quickly to Lisa, murmuring, "Can you watch—?"

She cuts you off with a wave of her hand. "—Go! I can close up for the night. But if you don't come back with a date planned, the invitation to spend New Years with Jungkookie and me is rescinded."

With a playful eye-roll, you peck her on the cheek and run to the back for your coat. Once you return, you find Namjoon scuffling Yeongu's dark locks with a dimpled smile. Looking back up as you return, the expression doesn't falter.

"Ready?"

You nod and follow behind through the exit, trying to ignore the wink and dual thumbs-ups Lisa flashes you as you pass.

Once on the street, Yeongu walks ahead of you and Namjoon. The first few minutes are silent between you two. From ahead, you can hear the small child talking to himself, or perhaps his hot chocolate, and then occasionally to the adults.

As you cross the busy street, Namjoon clears his throat. "So...you have any plans for Christmas?"

You scoff under your breath and shake your head. "Why does this topic keep coming up?"

"Hope I didn't offend," he laughs. "Yeongu said something about a café girl not having plans last night. I figured it was you."

"Trust me, you're good. But yeaaah. Kinda new to Korea. I spent the fall settling in and trying to start over. Between work and school, didn't expect much. Holidays sneaked up on me, I guess."

There's a pause as the trio rounds the corner. Yeongu finishes his hot cocoa along the way and hands the empty cup to Namjoon. The elder doesn't even hesitate to take it, and the boy rushes ahead to what you assume is his home. Over his shoulder, he shouts, "Thank you for the choco, Ahjumma!"

You grin widely and wave. "You're welcome!"

Yeongu turns to Namjoon, sticks out his tongue in a playful manner, then disappears into his house.

"Aaand that's the thanks I get." Namjoon rolls his eyes and turns his body towards you, giving you his full attention as the sun sets behind Seoul Tower. "I have a crazy idea."

"Oh, really?" You cross your arms over your chest and cock an eyebrow. "Those are my favorite kind of ideas."

"Cheesy," he grins. "Well...I don't have any plans either. Maybe we spend it together?"

"No plans, huh? Do I look that pitiful?"

"No! No, it's not that at all, god." Namjoon's smirk falls from his face as a horrified expression drowns out any humor. "Sorry if that's how it came off. I just—You seem really nice, and it's been a while since either of us just enjoyed someone else's company. No strings. No pressure."

Tugging your lower lip between your teeth, you shuffle in your step. "I don't know, Namjoon..."

"Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. I hate to see anyone's shoulders so heavy in December. How about this — give me three days to prove the magic isn't lost."

"Three days? That's it?"

"That's it."

"Okay then, Mr. Kim." You offer a hand in his direction. "Three days."

Namjoon's eyes lock with yours, as does his hand. "It's a deal."

The following weekend you wake to a phone call coming in from your recently-added number. Rolling out from under the covers to grab the device from the nightstand, you answer with voice still groggy with sleep. "Hello?"

"Are you still sleeping?" the caller laughs in a deep timbre.

"Shuddup." Peaking an eye open, the time on the screen reads just after eleven a.m. "It's not that late."

"Really?"

"Did you call me just to make fun of my lack of healthy sleep schedule, or did you have a point?"

"Ouch!” Namjoon exclaims playfully. “I actually did call, and it's actually perfect because I don't need you ready to go until around three this afternoon. So you can totally just go back to sleep."

You curl back under your heated blanket and revel in the warmth it provides. Beside you, Mochi curls closer, nearly sitting on your head. "Mmm sounds perfect. Wait—what?"

"You heard me." There's a hint of teasing in Namjoon's words. "It's Day 1. Be ready for an outdoor adventure by three. I'll pick you up then, okay sleepyhead?"

The butterflies rumble in your stomach at the nickname, and you clear your throat before replying. "Yep, got it. Three p.m. Outdoor adventure. Can't you tell me what it is or where we're going?"

"And ruin the surprise? No way. Just trust me, Jagi."

A squeak slips out, and you throw your hand over your mouth to hide it. "Okay, see you there—I mean then!"

You can almost hear Namjoon shaking his head as he says his goodbyes and ends the call. Despite still being sleepy and warm and cozy in your nest, you lie wide awake in bed for the next half-hour, replaying his voice over and over in your head like a well-loved record.

The day flies by, and eventually it's approaching three. You've dressed to impress while still trying to keep it casual. Despite this being a date, it's still casual. You like Namjoon a lot, and you hope he likes you as well. However, outside of conversations at the café, you haven't spent a lot of time together yet. This is as good a second-first impression as any, and you intend to make the most of it.

Grabbing your winter coat and scarf, you scurry down the stairs and spot Namjoon lingering by the entrance with two cups in his hands. He's dressed in jeans and a sweater with a dark grey jacket over top, his usual scarf looped twice around his neck. A beanie covers his head, but bits of his platinum hair still stick out in places. Slung across his shoulder is a brown leather backpack. He always looks nice, that much you know, but the fact that today he looks nice for you makes you sickly happy.

He flashes a smile as you bound out the door. "You look rested," he teases, then offers you one of the cups.

Taking it with a nose scrunch, you look down at the order on the side, seeing that it's your usual order. "How did you know!"

He shrugs. "I have my ways."

"Was it Lisa?"

"Maybe..." He straightens up and nods his chin towards the nearby station. "Follow me for our first adventure!"

After boarding the train to Itaewon, you can't help but wonder where he might be taking you. Your mind goes through all of the things to do in Itaewon, but the list is lengthy. From his excited and proud expression, you know Namjoon has been looking forward to this all day, just as you have.

After exiting fifteen minutes down the line, Namjoon reaches for your free hand. "May I...?"

Your fingers close the distance, glove-covered palm clasping his. "Lead the way."

Namjoon grins, then tugs on your hand as you exit the station. Once outside in the frigid air, you see your breath come out in puffs of fog. You tighten your scarf around your neck and allow your companion to usher you down the sidewalk, towards a clearing in the colorful buildings of Itaewon-do.

Another block or so, and you see the direction in which he's heading. A large sign along the way reads, "Grant Hyatt Seoul Ice Rink" in bold Hangul. Your eyes widen as the realization hits you, and the excitement inside you grows. "How did you know I've wanted to go ice skating!"

Namjoon shuffles up to the ticket counter, replying over his shoulder, "Um...lucky guess?"

As he purchases your tickets, you take a moment to absorb your surroundings.  The trees are glowing from the lights covering every branch and trunk. They surround the rink and give a glow from within that is so much softer and more intimate than the harsh lighting of the city. The Hyatt Hotel stands as a black silhouette against the horizon. In the opposite direction, you can see N. Seoul Tower already lit up as the afternoon lighting shifts to evening. Projectors shine shapes of glittering snowflakes across the ice, giving another layer of ambient lighting to the rink.

"I haven't been since I was a kid," you add, staring at the exterior of the open-air rink with awe. Namjoon hands you the ticket, which you use for entrance and skates before shoving it into your jacket pocket. "Have you ever been before?"

"Yeah, a...few times. Hey, what size shoe are you?" When you tell him, Namjoon grabs a pair of skates from the shelf beside the ticket booth and gestures for you to sit on the bench across from it. "It can be tricky to lace your skates properly," he commentates as he kneels down in front of you and begins to untie your boots. "It's really something you have to adjust yourself, so let me know when I'm close?"

Not having any words to respond at his sudden closeness, you nod the affirmative and watch in silence as he puts one boot to the side, slips the skate on with ease, and begins to adjust the laces like a professional. After repeating the movements with your other skate, he taps your knee and looks up at you.

"Too loose? You want them to be as tight as you can handle to keep your ankles steady."

Moving your feet, you shake your head from side to side. "A bit more. I'd hate to have Day 1 turn into a trip to the E.R."

"Definitely, nothing says ‘Christmas magic’ like an emergency room visit," he laughs, adjusting your laces as you requested. "How's that?"

"Much better, thank you."

After lacing up your skates as tight as you can handle, Namjoon stands and offers you an arm. He helps you waddle over to the entrance, gently sliding you onto the ice despite your shaky knees and flailing arms. You soon realize that it might be best to hold tight to the barrier and stick only to the periphery.

He doesn't follow you on at first. When you turn and look back for him, he waves you on. "You go ahead. I need to grab my skates first."

"Mmm fine, but if I break my neck trying to catch your ass, you're paying for ramen after. Got it?"

Namjoon gives you two thumbs ups as he lets you go onto the ice. "Loud and clear."

Eventually, you begin tugging yourself along, trying but failing to keep up with the traffic of more experienced skaters. Even compared to those half your age, or even less, you're the child on this rink.

About half-way around the rink, you spot Namjoon making his way towards the entrance. Waving your hand, your smile widens when he sees you. He waves back, nearly bumps into the person ahead of him at the gate, and you murmur to yourself, "This should be good."

Namjoon hits the ice. He's not like the barreling disaster you are, but like a graceful swan. It catches you off-guard; if anything, you expected him to fall flat on his face or tumble over a child on his way over to you on the opposite side. He needs no assistance from the railing, nor does he struggle to cross the center and come to a full stop in front of you. His skates make a graceful scraping sound, and his stance is one of a professional. Even his skates are different than yours; they're custom, and you realize that must've been what he was carrying in his backpack.

You assume the awestruck look on your face is the reason for his smirk and laughter. He does a spin for dramatic affect as he closes the distance between you. "Surprised?"

"For starters! How the hell are you so graceful? You're literally twirling around on one foot on a frictionless surface, and I can barely make a left turn!"

The platinum blond gives you a look like you're still missing the point, then extends his hand. "C'mon, I can help you more than the railing can."

"Promise not to sue me if I break your face by crashing into you?"

"Promise, now grab my hand and skate!"

Your hands in his, you take the leap of faith and separate from the barrier around the oblong rink. Namjoon slowly skates backwards, carrying you the whole way. Your eyes remain glued to your trembling feet, careful not to have the blades deviate too far out to one side or the other.

"Look at you!" he cheers, ever the positive one. "A whole two minutes on your feet."

"Shut up."

You won't deny that your progress surprises even you. Despite having to hold both his hands for the first ten minutes, then eventually one as you skate side-by-side for the following half-hour, you're more adept at skating than you thought you would be.

"You think you can try on your own for a lap?" he inquires.

Giving a hesitant nod, you let go of Namjoon's hand, saying, "Don't leave my side, okay?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Taking a deep breath in, you push one skate out in front of the other and move yourself forward. The other follows after, and you get about twenty feet before you stumble and nearly fall face-first. Luckily, Namjoon keeps his promise and wraps his arms around your waist before you crash.

"Good try!" he exclaims, keeping his arms around your middle even after you regain your balance. "You got pretty far, actually."

You give an awkward chuckle and lay your nervous hands over his at your hip. "Maybe I'm not quite ready for a free-skate yet."

"No worries." He lets his arms drop and retakes your hand to steady you. The dimples appear next to his smile as he adjusts your beanie on your head, which had nearly fallen off in your almost-fall. "But I gotta say, you didn't have to fall for me on Day 1."

"So smooth!" You roll your eyes and give his shoulder a playful shove, only to gasp and reach back for him when he naturally skates backwards at the push. "Nevermind, I take it back. Please don't leave me in the middle of the rink."

Namjoon lets out a loud laugh, nearly doubling over as you cling to him. "You're so cute."

As you skate together, you keep getting the feeling that Namjoon has spent far more time on the ice than you previously assumed. After you get the hang of it yourself and are able to wobble along beside him without a constant hand to hold, he smiles a proud, wide smile.

"See? I knew you could do it!"

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Still nowhere near close to you."

"That's what a lot of people say," he brushes it off.

"Way to brag there, Joon," you snort, then immediately freeze in place so suddenly that you nearly fall over again. "Wait—you don't mind if I call you that, do you?"

Namjoon's smile shows his dimples, and they deepen with his reply. "Not a bit." The song changes, playing the symphonic piece "Noel on Ice." Namjoon's face lights up, and he turns back to you with a wink. "Watch me?"

Nodding affirmatively, you release his hand and let him skate towards the center of the rink. His gaze remains on you as he spins to a stop in the middle, then turns his gaze downwards. Arms still at his sides, and his shoulders straighten. You await with bated breath for the next note.

The melody lifts, and Namjoon's arms follow suit. Piano notes drip across the chilled air, and the violin prompts an extension of his hands upwards. Then he moves, gracefully flowing from one movement to the next, as if this has been an ice dance built into his very being. The harp and cello urge him to move faster, spinning like a dancer across their stage.

Namjoon spins into the air, fully coming off the ice. Your hands fly up to cover your mouth out of fear, but he lands it with ease, shifting into his next series of steps like a professional. Flawless and practiced, he's caught the attention of everyone at the rink. As you look around, you see everyone else focused intently on the skater. Some even have their phones out to record. Not just one or two people, either; you see at least a half dozen with their cameras trained on Namjoon.

That in particular has you perplexed. Brows pulling together, you shift your eyes back to Namjoon. The piece is nearing its close, and he's moved back to the center of the ice. Twirling in place, he's moving like a spinning top. Always in a single place, so fast you can barely see, gracefully shaving ice under him so that snowflakes fall around him. He lowers, nearly sitting as he continues to twirl on one foot. The music grows to its crescendo. Slowly, he rises up and extends his hands towards the sky.

And then it hits you.

There's a reason why his face, his voice, and his presence is so familiar to you. You couldn't put your finger on it until just now, but the way he moves on the ice like he's the only one in the room — like it's a second home — brings you back to one of the first days you had in Seoul. That first day, at the Incheon Airport, the man you saw being bombarded with press and fans. Then again on the screens in the lobby of the immigration center. And again a few nights ago on the news.

RM Nam. South Korea's pride and joy, their greatest skater, the man bound for the Winter Olympics until a training injury earlier in the year put him out for the season. You're not into sports, but even you knew him by name and the tragedy that had occurred.

That legendary skater was the one in front of you now. He hadn't mentioned it, and you didn't suspect a thing until today. While definitely a shock, you can't help but be in awe of him even more. He isn't just good on the ice — he's like nothing you've ever seen.

As the music comes to a close, Namjoon skates to a halt. His spin finishes, and he ends with a ending pose bow. Clearly out of breath and shoulders heaving, his gaze shifts to you once again. Your smile widens, and you throw your hands up as you cheer. The others around you begin to clap, but you're by far the most enthusiastic one there.

Suddenly, Namjoon's persona returns to that of a shy and humble one. He bows again in the directions of the viewers, then scurries out from the center and back to you. Eventually, those around you begin to skate once more, ignoring the fact that one of the biggest sports icons in all of Korea is among them.

Namjoon runs a hand over his bleached hair, his smile sweet and his eyes a little nervous as he approaches. You shake your head in awe, letting a surprised laugh slip out.

"Okay, I see exactly what you're doing now. You suggested ice skating because you're Olympic-level! That's totally cheating, by the way."

Namjoon skids to a stop in front of you, as graceful as his takeoff. Without thinking, you reach your hand for his, which he gladly takes. "Figured it out finally, did you?"

"Call me stupid, but I honestly didn't see it until just now." You shove his shoulder with your free hand, only encouraging his teasing reaction. "RM: Guessing that's a stage name?"

He adjusts the beanie over his hair and gives an affirmative gesture. "Yeah, mainly to protect my privacy. Skating world can get pretty intense, sometimes."

You move your chin towards his shoulder, recalling that's where the injury occurred over the summer. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, totally okay. I go to PT a couple times a week. Mostly healed up, just can't compete for another few months. My coach has made me swear off skating until the New Year, but I figured it was worth throwing a little extra into trying to impress a pretty girl." He tilts his head to the side, rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand. "Did it work?"

Instead of responding verbally, you curl your finger towards you, a mischievous smile on your face. Namjoon lowers his head and skates closer to you. When he's within arm's reach, you lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. A giggle slips out as his eyes widen and his cheeks flush.

"So... Is that a yes?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, throwing your arms in the air and nearly falling over for the hundredth time that night.

Namjoon returns the chaste gesture to your temple as he helps you recover your balance. "Skate with me some more then?" he murmurs, adjusting your scarf around your neck with gentle fingers.

Your face hot and your stomach fluttery, you nod your response and loop your arm around his. "Only if you show me how to do that fancy twirl there at the end."

The idea has Namjoon laughing loudly. "That's my variation on the basic Scratch Spin, which took me about three months to nail perfectly in a routine."

"Then you'd better prepare to be here 'til February!"

After skating for hours, until both of you are exhausted and ready for food, Namjoon takes you to a nearby ramen shop that's close to the train station. It's a hole-in-the-wall, with less than five tables, but with ramen you're able to find a park bench and settle down there with your backs to the city lights and your eyes on the stars overhead. You each mostly in silence, just enjoying each other's company and the delicious food. You make sure to tell your companion how great the choice was, and you insist on coming back again soon.

After wrapping up the meal and seeing the late hour on your phone, Namjoon suggests you both start heading home. "Hate to have to take a bus at this hour instead of the last train," he snickers.

Fully in agreement, you let him take your hand again as the pair of you begin to walk back home. First on the train, then on the sidewalk the short distance to your apartment building.

As you turn the corner onto your short street, your apartment in sight, you rest your head against Namjoon's shoulder and sigh happily. "Thank you for today. It was just...magical."

"Christmas magic?"

You nod against his jacket, wistful and content. "Definitely."

Stopping outside your apartment, you turn towards him, not letting go of his hand. Namjoon gives you a content smile as he looks at you, one where his eyes glisten at his coming words. "Then I have a chance."

"At what?"

He reaches yet again for your scarf, moving it from around your lower face so he can cradle it in his hands. "Restoring your hope in the holidays, and your hope in yourself and your choices."

"Ooof, that's getting ahead of it, I think." You bite the inside of your cheek as a small tug of anxiety and sense of being lost pulls at the back of your mind.

But Namjoon is relentless in his pursuit, and for that you're grateful. "That's why I have two more days planned."

"Already?" you laugh.

"You bet!" he exclaims. "In fact, I'll pick you up at nine on Saturday, but don't wear a dress or skirt. Are you free then?"

"For you, absolutely."

His teeth show through his grin, and he leans forward to press a kiss between your eyebrows. The gesture is gentle and sweet, made even more so by the warmth of his hands on your cheeks through his gloves. Nevertheless, it leaves you breathless.

After a moment of silence, he pulls away and lowers his grasp, but you crave the contact as soon as he relinquishes it. He nods towards your apartment, as if saying, "I'm not leaving until you're home safe."

You take the hint and give a tiny wave as you enter your building. "Have a great night, Joonie," you whisper through the cracked door. "And thanks again."

Namjoon waves back. "Goodnight, [Y/n]. Sleep well."

Saturday can't come quickly enough. You find yourself smiling more often, a joyful feeling in your heart as you go about your work shift and college classes. Even the smallest and insignificant things feel a little easier. The weather wasn't just cold anymore; it was full of beauty and hope and Christmas spirit.

Maybe Namjoon was right. Maybe he was helping you turn a corner.

Right before you're ready to head downstairs to meet Namjoon at the entrance, your phone begins to buzz. Lit up on the screen is an international number, but the area code is that of your old home. The butterflies of excitement die almost instantly, shriveling up into tiny balls of anxiety in your stomach.

Even though you ignore the call, you can't resist listening to the voicemail left behind. Putting your phone on speaker, you're shocked to hear your mother's voice wishing you a Merry Christmas, saying that she and the family miss you, and that they wished you would visit so you could clear up everything that went wrong over the summer. Your throat constricts at the sickly sweet tone; her voice always did drip in honey when she wanted something, she she was trying to manipulate her child. Between her conniving control and your father's lack of respect for privacy and personal boundaries, you remember all over again why you left.

You jump as your apartment bell rings, and the small screen by the door shows Namjoon at the entrance. "[Y/n], are you up there? I texted twice...not sure if you got those."

Looking down at your screen, you see that he's right. You have two unread texts from the last five minutes that you missed due to the unexpected caller. Shaking yourself out of it, you shoot him a quick response, close everything out, and head for the ground level.

"There you are!" Namjoon greets with a grin that almost makes you forget your mother's call.

Almost.

Forcing a smile and reply, "Sorry, I don't know why I didn't see your texts."

"No worries." He waves his hand as if to say it's nothing to worry about. "Are you okay? You seem bothered about something."

You glance up at him, unable to deny he looks slightly concerned. You mirror his laissez-faire attitude and brush it off. "Totally good. Heading to the station?"

"Not this time." Namjoon gestures towards the bike parked by the corner of the building. "You ready to go?"

"Both of us, on that? Are you sure that's safe?"

"Oh yeah! Trust me." He kicks the stand down and mounts the bike, patting the extended seat behind him. "I once rode up Namsan Mountain with Seokjin on the back of this thing, and let me tell you, he's a hell of a lot bigger than you."

Knowing he's probably right, you settle yourself on the seat behind him and wrap your arms tightly around his middle. It's probably not the most well-balanced thing in the world, but you trust Namjoon more than you buy into your fear of falling. "No skirts or dresses, huh?"

"Now you get it," he laughs, pulling out onto the bike lane on the street headed into towards the older side of the city. "Unless you'd like a wardrobe malfunction."

He picks up speed and gets to an easy pace down the street. It's fast enough to get to your location speedily but slow enough that you're able to stare at the beautiful buildings and wondrous landscape around you. Even the people have an aura of happiness caused by Christmas. Had it always been this stunning? Or had you been blind to it until just now?

"Seokjin, as in Kim Seokjin, your rival?"

"So you do watch the news," he sighs. "They aren’t portraying us as friends these days, are they?"

You shake your head and rest your chin on his shoulder. "Not really. I didn't know you were friends."

Namjoon shrugs his shoulders slightly, his voice monotone. "Yeah, well, we've known each other since we were seven, got into skating together around that time, and have been friends ever since. While I wish I didn't have to sit this one out, I couldn't be happier to have him representing South Korea at the Worlds — sorry, that's what we call the World Figure Skating Championships."

"Yeah, they're kind of painting you as opposites."

"That's just what the news does, I guess. Gossip and tabloids and fan-wars. I fell on the ice and hit my shoulder pretty hard; it had nothing to do with Seokjin. He and I talked before I left, too. We're on good terms. Most of us from South Korea are friends, actually. We only get represented as enemies because it's a competition. But a lot of times we're on the same flights, in the same hotels, in the same training areas, you get the idea."

Namjoon pulls up to a stoplight at a near empty intersection, waiting silently for it to shift colors. "Is that what you meant by change of career?" you inquire.

"You're observant," he chuckles.

You turn to rest your cheek on his back. "For what it's worth, and keep in mind that I don't know the first thing about figure skating or your injury or anything like that, but as someone on the outside looking in, you're still so talented. Last week, when you were skating alone, I couldn't tell at all you were injured, and you looked like you were really enjoying it. I don't know if that means anything to you coming from a novice, but if you're still in love with skating and want to get back out there, I think you should go for it. You're still spectacular to watch, Joonie."

There's a beat of silence, but then Namjoon glances over his shoulder and winks at you. "Would you come see me perform live if I did?"

Shrugging your shoulders, you state, "Why not?"

He laughs at your silly expression, then begins to move the bike again as the light finally shifts. "That actually means a lot, [Y/n]. Thank you."

The rest of the ride is quiet, at least until you begin to hear the sounds of a bustling outdoor market. Namjoon turns the final corner, and you're elated with the stone street in an older part of Seoul. Vendors in various booths stretch out in every direction. Some sell food or drink, some sell trinkets or clothing, some even sell vintage books or vinyls or movies. Every nook and cranny has something special to offer. The sights, smells and sounds bring an enormous smile to your face as Namjoon steadies the bike to a stop beside the bicycle rack.

You hop off with his help, nearly bouncing up and down from excitement as he parks and locks his bike on the stand. "This is amazing!" Turning to him, you catch him off-guard with a tight embrace, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him down to you.

Namjoon seems amused by your eager reaction, and he pulls you closer to him. "I thought you would like it. There's nothing quite like Christmas than a market."

After letting him go, you press a kiss to his cheek as you lower back down to your level. Namjoon's hands tenderly cradle your face, just like last time, only today he's glancing away from  your eyes and down to your lips. As your heartbeat quickens, you pull him back to you, fingers grasping at his winter jacket.

His voice is deep and soft as he asks, "May I...?"

Your cheeks flush as you nod your approval. Namjoon's dimples deepen as he lowers his face to yours, barely brushing his lips against yours in the gentlest kiss you've ever had. You close the distance, tugging at his jacket so he moves closer. He gives a tiny laugh against your mouth, then follows your guidance to deepen the kiss. One hand slips back to your hair; he gently plays with the strands.

A moment later, and you're sighing as he pulls away, both light-headed and light-hearted. Namjoon smiles down at you, gives you a surprising second peck, then pulls back with a chuckle. "You're a really cute kisser, y'know that?"

You drop your head and hide your face in the front of his coat. "Shut up."

Your companion's laughter echoes in the air around you as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and places his lips briefly on the top of your head. "Are you hungry? I know where we can get the absolute best Tteok-kkochi."

Eventually you lift your head and nod, feeling your stomach rumble at the thought of rice cake skewers. Namjoon moves his arm from around your shoulders, taking your hand instead, and ushers you into the first aisle of the Christmas market.

If it was magical from the outside, it's even more so from within. Somewhere in the distance, you hear holiday music playing. Not the commercial Christmas songs you're used to, but instrumental music that plays perfectly with the sounds of the market crowds. You're awestruck by every single booth you pass, and Namjoon promises to take you back to all of them after you grab a bite to eat.

Which are well worth the walk into the interior of the market. The Tteok-kkochi are cooked to perfection, drowned in a sauce, and by far the best you've ever had. Even after circling back to the booths you missed on the way, you beg Namjoon to lead you back to get another set.

"I've found heaven," you exclaim dramatically, taking the next two from the cook behind the counter and hanging one to your companion. "I'll never have rice cake skewers this good again."

After paying, you spot a section of the market decorated with lights and colorful orbs, much like the decorations you're used to seeing in the West. "Can we go over there next?"

Namjoon spots where you're pointing and eagerly agrees. The pair of you make your way towards the greenery and decor, amazed at the giant Christmas trees decorated to perfection on the periphery of the market.

"That's a massive tree," he gasps, staring upwards. "Are those normal in America?"

"Maybe at a mall or outside a hotel or something," you reply, equally as taken back. "I've never seen one that big in person in a long time."

As you peruse the Christmas section of the market, slipping from booth to booth as the clock strikes Noon, Namjoon asks, "Have you decorated your apartment at all? I know it can be kinda hard to find stuff in Korea like you're used to."

"Not really," you admit in passing. "Between work and school and, y'know, starting a new life in a foreign country, the holidays kinda fell on the back-burner."

Namjoon taps your shoulder, ushering your attention towards the old, American Christmas movies booth a few spots away. You gasp and rush over with renewed excitement, eyes scanning eagerly over the shelves. They have just about everything, from the classics like "It's A Wonderful Life" and "A Christmas Carol" to movies you grew up on like "Home Alone" and "Elf." The more you sort through the outdated DVDs, the bigger your smile gets.

"What's your favorite Christmas movie?" Namjoon asks, casually looking through the Christmas vinyls on the booth next to the movies.

"Without a doubt, Ron Howard's 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas.'"

"The one with Jim Carrey?"

"You know it!"

He laughs. "Yeah, my little sister and I watched it a lot when we were kids."

Your head perks up at the mention of a sister. "I didn't know you had siblings, either."

Namjoon nods. "Yeah, she's in college, too. Studying to be a psychologist."

"She sounds amazing."

"Yeah, the family is very proud. I know I am." He pulls out a vinyl for one of Frank Sinatra's Christmas records. "Do you have siblings?"

At the question, your gaze shifts back to the movies, hands preoccupied with finding the perfect one. "I do. A brother and a sister."

"Older?"

"Yeah..."

"What are they like?"

"A lot like my parents," you sigh, moving on to another shelf, turning your back to your companion. "Which is part of the reason I left, so..."

Namjoon senses your anxiety around the topic and rests a hand on your shoulder as he passes by. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize--"

You cut him off with a casual wave of your hand. "It's no worries, really." Spotting the record under his arm, you ask, "Find one you like?"

While he doesn't seem to buy your act, he lets the conversation go and holds up the vinyl for "Tales of Noel on Ice" by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, as performed by the Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra.

"You don't already have that one?" you gawk in surprise.

"I don't actually," he admits bashfully. "The title composition is one of my best free skate performances, and I have a record player at home, so why not?" He gestures to the movies. "Did you find one?"

"Oh, I don't need one! I was just looking. I don't even have a DVD player anymore."

"I do, so pick one out and maybe we can watch it sometime."

You shake your head at him, trying to subdue a chuckle. "A record player and a DVD player? You're so odd."

"But to your benefit," he reminds you with a wink, pulling out a single movie nearest him. It happens to be your favorite with Jim Carrey in all his hilarious glory on the front.

Cocking an eyebrow, you give a tiny round of applause at the luck of pulling that film out of all the others. "Well, you're going to have to invite me over sometime then."

"You can count on it."

For the next couple hours, Namjoon and you make your way through the entire market, hitting all the shops that interest and intrigue you. All the while, you talk about a plethora of things and get to know each other letter. For instance, you find out that he was born in Ilsan, not too far from where you are now, and that he hates seafood just about as much as mint chocolate. You also find out that he looks like his mother, who was the one that got him into skating to begin with. And to no one's surprise, Namjoon is actually very funny. Not only is he smart, athletic, and good looking — which alone would have caught your attention — he's got a wicked sense of humor to top it all off.

Likewise, he learns more about you. You tell him about the city you grew up in, the friends you had in high school, what you studied before you came to Korea. You tell him that along with your studies, you're really invested in writing and try to make time for that as well. It hasn't been so easy since the move, but you're hoping to get back to it in the new year.

As you approach mid-afternoon, and the final leg of the market, your phone begins to buzz. Your screen lights up with the same foreign number as before. Instantly, both your feet and your heart stop. Your shoulders tense up, and you turn to a blissfully unaware Namjoon, saying, "Hey, I gotta take this. You go on ahead."

"Are you sure?" he asks, the person in front of him not the same happy-go-lucky one as before.

You give him a nod of reassurance. "I'll catch up."

Before he can reply, you've turned and moved towards the massive Christmas trees, where there's an opening and the crowds are quieter. Despite what you told him, you don't intend on answering. Whoever is on the other end of that line, be it your mother or father or siblings, you want nothing to do with them. You do, however, want this to be over. You promise yourself to hear the message, block them, and then go run an errand after the holidays to get a new number.

After the call drops, you wait with an anxious feeling building in your stomach. Maybe they didn't leave a message. Maybe it wasn't your family after all. Maybe — 

A soft ping alerts you that you have a new message. Selecting it, you raise your phone to your ear and hear your father this time. He repeats all of what your mother said, only with a layer of frustration and authority that she didn't use. He's borderline cruel as he spouts the same old lies that you're trying to unlearn; it's your fault, it's because of you, you're the cause of it. What it is, depends on the day. This time is has to do with your family not being the same and their world falling to pieces. He uses colorful sentences, well-crafted insults, but all you hear is blame, blame, blame. 

Tears prick your eyes as the voicemail ends, and you realize you should've just deleted the message when you had the chance. A small part of you still hoped they would change, even after all this time, but you see now that it's not possible.

They will never change, and neither will you.

The pit of depression weighs down in your stomach, and loneliness tingles at the back of your throat. Why now? Out of all the times, out of all the days, why are you feeling these things now? You're out having an adventure with a man who you really like, and who you know likes you, in a city you now call home. You're far from any sadness or trauma or family or friends that once brought you down. You've left your past behind. You'd started to feel like there was hope in the holidays and in the future again, like the last year was worth the pain, like everything was starting to turn around.

But suddenly, that snake is wrapped around you again, pulling you back into old habits and old ways of thinking. It's grabbed on tight and is pulling you back into the dark, away from people you care about, away from people who care about you.

Even as you glance up at Namjoon a few stalls away, completely naïve to the painful flickers going through your mind, you feel the need to draw back. Pull away. Stay away. Go back to the security of the known, of the sad, of the lonely. It's warm and comfy, even if it hurts.

Clenching your fists, you try to silence the noise in your brain by shaking your head. The thoughts only grow louder, and the pit in your stomach gets heavier. You haven't felt a depressive episode like this in a long time. You thought they were long gone, especially now, especially with him...

"[Y/n]? Are you okay?"

Looking up, you see Namjoon's approaching you in the clearing. One hand carries the movie and vinyl he purchased for you both, but the other is outstretched towards you. While you don't pull away from his touch, you taste bile in the back of your throat.

"I—I need to go home," you mutter. "I'm starting to feel sick."

"Oh, okay, hold up I'll go get my bike and I'll take you home."

Feeling your breath quicken, you pull your gaze from Namjoon and nod shakily. The walk back to the bike rack is silent, even the crowd outside fades to a low background murmur. Namjoon places the purchased items in his bicycle carrier, then mounts it.

You follow suit, regret beginning to pile up inside you. Running isn't going to help anything, and you know he must be hurt and confused. But to you, the only thing you can do right now to protect yourself is get away from it all and go back to the place where you feel safest.

Tears burn your eyes as you curl up against him. Namjoon pedals speedily to your apartment, making the trip faster than last time. When he pulls up to the curb, you hop off without a word.

"Do you need me to walk you up?" he offers, worry causing his brows to pull together.

You shake your head and put distance between you both. "No, I'm fine. I'll...text you later, okay?"

Without another word, you turn and enter through the front, leaving Namjoon behind on the other side. Trekking up the stairs, through the door, past a mewling Mochi, you curl up on your bed and let yourself finally feel all the sadness piled up inside.

Fifteen minutes later, the waterworks flow when your phone lights up from an incoming text. Knowing exactly who it is, you grab it and text a swift message to Namjoon.

"I'm so sorry I left so suddenly. And that I ruined our day. Not feeling like myself."

"That's okay. I just got home, so I wanted to check up on you. I'm sorry you're not feeling well. Do you need anything?"

"No, but thank you."

"Okay... Maybe we can try again some other time? I'd hate to let you down on Day 2."

Unable to reply, the phone turns black and you let it fall onto the duvet.

The days leading up until Christmas Eve were long and full of guilt. You closed the café for the final time the Monday before the holiday, and with no classes to attend, you mainly stayed inside and watched the snow fall outside your tiny apartment window. Mochi kept you company, but even the small fur ball could sense that something had changed for the worse. Even she had gotten used to you being happier this December; you'd taken two steps back while attempting to take a single step forward.

Every morning, you'd spot Namjoon riding his bike past your apartment on his way to the rink where he trains. Every day, he'd stop and gaze up at the building, never sure which frosty window you were behind but melancholy just the same. He'd call and text; the former, you would never answer, but the latter, you did sporadically. Mainly at night when you thought he wouldn't be up.

He usually was.

"Was it something I did?" he asked that Tuesday before Christmas. "Did I move too fast? Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

"No. It's not you."

"Then tell me what it is. I don't want to come across as pushy, but I thought we were getting closer...and then you pull back and hide from me. From everyone. I know I don't know everything about your past or what happened before you came to Seoul, but I promised you three adventures. I still have one to make good on before Christmas."

"Joonie..."

You couldn't bring yourself to write more. The tiny part of your brain that told you that maybe this can work, maybe it's worth trying, maybe things can be different now, it was silenced by the overwhelming majority of your mind. It remembered everything from your past, from the hurt and pain, from the loneliness and fear. Despite your wish to make things right again, it was drowned out by the pure terror of being wronged again.

"Don't shut me out. Please. Let me show you things can be different now. You don't have to go at this alone, [Y/n]. Not anymore."

Pushing down the urge to cry yet again, you move your fingers to type a swift and cold reply. "I'm so sorry I wasted your time, Namjoon. I really am. I thought I was ready, but it's clear that I'm not. Please, spend Christmas with your family. Don't waste any more time on me."

And that was the end of it. You muted his notifications, ignored his calls and texts, and eventually he went silent. The day before Christmas Eve was the first you didn't hear from him, and it was the first day you felt like you'd truly fucked things up for good.

On Christmas Eve, you got an unexpected call from Lisa. Deciding to take a break from staring at an empty Word document with ever-growing frustration, you answered the call, only to be bombarded by Lisa's rambling.

"Oh, thank god! I didn't think you'd answer! I need a huge favor, and I hate to bother on such short notice on Christmas Eve, but this really cannot wait and I'll love you forever if you—!"

"—Okay, okay," you chuckle, shaking your head at her antics.

"I need you to run back to the café and grab something for me. Jungkook is on his way there, but he doesn't have a key."

"What could you possibly have left that's this important?"

"My fucking credit card."

"You've been out of town for two weeks and only just now realized you left your card?"

She heaves a frustrated sigh. "Please, just, do me this favor?"

Rolling your eyes, you pull yourself from the sofa and grab your keys on the counter. "Fine, but you owe me."

"Yes, yes, I know."

You leave the apartment in a hurry, taking the next train to the café. In less than fifteen minutes, you're at the front door. Lisa assures you that Jungkook is on his way, only twenty minutes away. After unlocking it, you make yourself at home in the lobby with a fresh white chocolate mocha. It reminds you of Yeongu, and you smile at the thought.

After about a half hour, your phone begins to buzz in your pocket. Lisa's text has you halting in place.

"I'm sorry to do this. You didn't really give me another choice. I crossed a line, but I think you'll thank me in the end."

Your fingers are swift typing a response. "What did you do?"

"You remember how you gave me a spare key in case you ever got locked out? Or in case you were kept at school too long and needed someone to feed Mochi?" A pause, then she adds, "He came to Busan, [Y/n]. He asked me in person what to do. Do you know how out of the way that was for him? Give him another chance. Please."

"You didn't."

"I did. I'm sorry, but you've talked about how you pull away when you get close to people. It's gone on for almost a week. It's Christmas Eve. You can hate me all you want later, but please. Go home, kiss and make up, then try to salvage Christmas."

A huff of air exits your nostrils as it hits you. Lisa's given the spare to Namjoon. Jungkook was never on his way; this was all a rouse to get you out of your apartment long enough for him to get inside. But to what end?

"He's good for you; I can tell that much already. If you ever were to give someone the benefit of the doubt and place your broken pieces in someone's hands, he's the best you're gonna find."

A pang of truth rocks through you, and while you have still a semblance of willpower, you shoot her a swift text and rush back for the station. "I'm still mad at you, but we'll talk later. I need to get home."

"Go get him!"

The series of stairs up to your apartment never felt so long. Out of breath and winded from rushing home, you find the door unlocked. Pushing through, the place you left less than an hour ago isn't the same as it was before.

The entrance hallway is glittering, multi-colored strands of twinkle lights hanging along the periphery. Fake snow lines the trim, and paper snowflakes are tossed across the furniture. Each one is unique and hand-crafted.

As you venture further, a rainbow array aurora covers your living room and kitchen. There must be at least a dozen lengthy strands of Christmas lights hung across the few items you've unpacked, circled around the sealed boxes, and framing every window and door.  Fake icicles hang on the windowsill, fake greenery lays where curtains should be, and a small Christmas tree stands at your height in the corner.

Jovial, English holiday music plays softly in the background. And humming along to the tune of The First Noel, Namjoon stands with bent-back facing you. He's finishing his final touches on the tree, ensuring that each sparkling orb and shimmering tinsel is perfect. He adjusts the star on the top with a smile to himself, oblivious still to your entrance.

For a moment, you stand in silence and watch him. Your heart is heavy but still beating. If anything, seeing him in the midst of such a sweet and selfless act makes it flutter. Even after cutting his well-planned adventure short, ignoring him for over a week, and telling him to stop speaking to you, he's still here. He came back, and he's trying to prove to you the truth he's been spouting all along.

Eventually, you blink out of your stupor and clear your throat to alert him to your presence. Namjoon turns on his heel, elbow grazing the tree just enough to send it toppling backward. He curses and lunges for it, grabbing it by the star just in time to keep it upright. His characteristic clumsiness prompts a snicker from you, one that you attempt to hide with your hand over your mouth.

Namjoon adjusts the tree and turns back to you with a bashful expression. His lips pull into a side-smile, a single dimple popping out in the process. "H—Hi..."

"Hi," you repeat back to him, letting your hand fall. Your eyes follow suit and drift to your damp, snow-covered shoes.

A beat of silence passes where neither of you knows what to say next. Then the both of you break it at once, words tumbling over each others several times in a row. You laugh to yourself and look back up at him; Namjoon smiles down at you, shaking his head at the awkward reunion.

He gestures silently to you. "Go ahead."

You clear your throat, then say, "I...I wanted to say that I owe you an apology."

He shakes his head firmly, extending his hands in a olive-branch manner. "No, you don't—"

Your feet move back, putting space between you both. "—Can I explain and finish, please? Just...hold your forgiveness until then." At your request, your companion falls silent, letting his hands fall respectfully at his side. Taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment, you re-calibrate your mind and prepare for your admission.

"There's a lot you don't know about me yet," you begin softly. "Ah, shit — That came out super mean. I mean, you know a lot about me. You kinda know why I moved to Korea, the situation with my family back in America, that whole thing. You know where I work and what I'm studying. You know my favorite drink of all time is a white chocolate mocha, and that my favorite customer is barely four feet tall. You know Lisa is my shield at work, and that we've become pretty close in less than a year. You know I'm a homebody and that my favorite thing to do by myself is play with Mochi and watch dramas."

You release a huff of air and raise your eyes to meet his, a wistful smile tugging the corners of your lips. "But there's a lot I haven't told you — or anyone for that matter. I've gone through...a lot of shit this year. When I moved to Seoul, my mental health was in the trash, and my self worth was in shambles. I'd just been shoved from everything I'd ever known into a foreign place."

When you pause for a moment, Namjoon's small and steady voice pipes up with a single inquiry. "I thought you left willingly?"

"I did," you state. "I've wanted to move to South Korea for a long, long time. Since I can remember. But I never thought I'd lose everything before then." Tears prick your eyes, and you lift your sleeve to wipe your nose. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Namjoon gestures towards the small sofa, and you follow his lead. You perch on a single cushion, legs folded underneath you. He takes the adjacent one, far enough to for personal space but still close enough to rest a hand on your knee. This time, you don't push him away as you catch your breath. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"No, I do, but maybe not now." You take another breath in and focus your thoughts. "I didn't mean to start all that with the intention of being the victim and making you feel bad for me. I...I told you that because I wanted you to know that there are reasons why I push people away. I've been on a journey to heal that trauma all year, but it doesn't happen overnight. But even with that, I never should have just left like that. I never should have ignored your calls and texts. I shouldn't have made you feel like you were the bad guy, or that any of this was your fault, or that you did anything wrong. You were—"

You struggle to find a word that fits what you're truly feeling, one that doesn't feel overwhelming, but the only one that comes to mind is... "You are perfect, Joonie. You're sweet and kind. You treat me like a normal person that's worth something, and I think part of me was scared of that. Especially around the holidays, I feel very fragile, and I run from things I think might hurt me."

"I would never, ever hurt you." Namjoon flashes a soft and empathetic smile. "Can I ask why you got spooked so suddenly? You looked off when I picked you up, and I know you said it was nothing, but..."

You pull your phone from your pocket and play the message for him, the one from your mother. And when he remains silent, you play the second from your father. While he listens, you watch him. The hand on your knee turns to a fist, and his jaw clenches. Part of you is relieved that someone else is reacting negatively to the messages, yet another signal to you that your choice is validated.

"I got the first that morning, but the second right before I left," you murmur. "I didn't respond, and I've blocked the numbers, but I've felt unstable since then. That's why I shut down, and why I left."

He nods, then turns off the phone. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. That's emotional abuse and manipulation. No one should have to go through that."

"I know, but I was wrong. I'm sorry for doing that and for hurting you. It was wrong, and I don't deserve you coming back again and again...even if you concocted this up with Lisa."

At your light-hearted comment, he chuckles and bites the inside of his cheek. The fist on your knee loosens back, his fingers tapping gently against your skin. "She told you, did she?"

"Yep," you chirp. "I'll thank her later."

After a moment, Namjoon's eyes flicker back up to yours. For a moment, he almost looks worried. "Are you mad?"

"Meh." For a moment, you're able to hold your composure long enough for your companion's eyes to widen in horror. "I'm just kidding," you relent, and Namjoon looks visibly relieved. "How could I be mad? Look at all this!" You gesture to the magical space around you. "It looks like a wonderland in here."

A crimson hue fills his face, and he's all of a sudden very shy about the accomplishment. "I wanted you to feel like you had a Christmas, even if it was just for one night."

Leaning your head against the back cushion of the sofa, you stare at him with a bittersweet smile on your face. "Are you mad at me?"

He shakes his head, expression more adamant about that than anything he's said so far. "Not a bit. I was worried, yes, and maybe a little disappointed. I think most of that was tied to the fact that I thought we were on the up-and-up. I saw you slowly opening up and having a good time."

"Gahhh," you groan, eyes fluttering shut with frustration at your past self. "I really fucked it up, didn't I?"

"Not really." His hand slips up your knee, and he weaves his fingers through yours. The squeeze he gives and the gaze he locks gives emphasis to his next words. "I know I don't know everything about you, just like you don't know everything about me, but I'd be lying if I said you aren't the most joyful thing I've experienced in a while. Being around you makes me happy, and the fact that this has you so down makes me want to be there for you — if you want me to. I don't blame you for anything you've done, so you have nothing to be sorry for. Honestly, after hearing those messages and some of what you've been dealing with this year, I know I would've reacted the same way. But, if it helps your peace of mind, then I forgive it all."

"Thank you," you whisper, trying to blink away the tears pricking your eyes.

Namjoon's gaze softens, and he tugs on your hand. "C'mere." You scoot closer, and he pulls you the rest of the way onto his lap and into his arms. Your legs dangle off the side of his thighs, and your head nestles in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. One hand holds tightly to yours while the other circles your waist, dipping under your sweater to rub soothing circles on your skin. Your free arm wraps around his waist, pulling him even closer than before.

"Sometimes terrible, inexplicable things happen to us and it takes us months — even years — to process." Namjoon's timbre is quiet and deep, rumbling against your ear as he speaks. "Everyone goes through that, even me. But it's so much harder to face it alone. Sometimes it takes a lonely, awful Christmas to see just how out of sorts you are. I don't know everything, but if you'll have me, I'd like to stick around to find out."

"You'd still be willing to get to know me more, even after seeing me at my worst?"

"Jagi, if this is your worst, then I would hate to introduce you to sixteen-year-old Kim Namjoon. That boy was a train-wreck."

Letting a watery smile show as laughter escapes your lungs, you reach upward and wrap your arms around Namjoon's neck. He pulls you closer, hands splayed on your back and waist. A sense of relief, and something like home, floods through you. Burying your face in his neck, you allow yourself a moment to collect your thoughts. Ever patient, your companion just holds you close as you come back around.

"Enough with the heavy," he breaks the silence, pulling back and wiping his thumb across your cheeks. Nodding towards the front of the space, where your television is, you follow his line of sight. "I brought your movie and the player. If you're okay with me staying over, do you wanna watch it?"

Leaning forward, you bring your face closer to his, murmuring, "I'd love that."

Namjoon closes the final distance. Both your eyes and his flutter shut as your lips meet in the middle. You tug on the collar of his sweater, encouraging him closer as his arms tighten around your waist. In a burst of bravery, you run your hand through his platinum hair and nip at his bottom lip. He inhales abruptly, and you giggle in response.

"You're gonna be the death of me, [Y/n] [Y/l/n]," he laughs, eventually pulling back to catch his breath.

You grin mischievously at him, biting your lower lip. "Still sure you wanna stay?"

"Definitely. Oh! And I placed an order for takeout, which should be here any minute."

You burst into laughter, resting your forehead against his shoulder as joy fills your body. "You really put all your chips on me coming to my senses, didn't you?" When he shrugs, you add, "What if I had said no?"

"Then I would've been eating for two alone in my apartment," he groans.

You shake your head at his antics and playfully poke the dimple in his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Joonie.”

His smile deepens at your words and gesture. “Merry Christmas, [Y/n].”

Just as he promised, food arrives at the front of your apartment a few minutes later. Namjoon hops up and volunteers to get it from the entrance, and you pop the movie into the player. Silencing the music on his phone, you select the "Play" option from the menu, and the credits begin to play over Anthony Hopkins' narration as your companion returns.

He serves up the food and delivers it to you on the sofa. With a rumbling stomach, you take it gratefully. Just as the singing begins, Namjoon settles into the seat beside you, hooking your leg over his so you maintain closeness as you devour the takeout. Neither of you have seen it in so long, and thus both of you are laughing whole-heartedly at every joke and hilarious mannerism.

After the meal is finished and the dishes are on the makeshift box side-table, you find yourself slowly slipping closer to your companion. Namjoon gladly pulls you closer, and by the middle of the movie, you're back in his lap. With the blanket wrapped around you both, his chin on your head, his arms around you with one hand tracing absent-minded patterns on the skin above your pants, you know you've never been more at home in Seoul than you are right now.

"I'm sorry I ruined your grand plans for Day 3," you murmur after a while.

Namjoon's hand on your waist halts, then changes to a reassuring, tapping pattern. "Be glad you did; this is way better than anything I had planned."

"While I have to agree, what did you have planned?"

You can hear his smile in his voice. "Well, honestly I hadn't decided between Lotte World or Seoullo 7017. You said you hadn't been to either of those, and at Christmas, they're magical. All the lights, the music, it's an absolute winter wonderland."

"Well, if I get to see you skate live, then we can definitely go to those after the solar New Year. Maybe...Maybe even call it a date?"

Namjoon presses a kiss to your forehead, one that makes you grin to yourself and sigh peacefully. His reply is loud and clear, a promise reverberating through his chest. "I think that sounds perfect."

As the movie continues, you relax and think back on everything that's happened this year. All your concerns and worries you had a few weeks prior, at the beginning of December, they all seem so far away now. Even those anxieties brought up recently feel as if they're resolved. he sense is comparable to that of a chapter ending and a new one is being written. And this time, you're the one holding the pen.

At the resolution of the film, you realize that what Namjoon set out to do over a series of adventures truly did come to fruition. Be it luck or fate or whatever you want to call it, he really has given you that spark of hope in the Christmas season. It's something you thought you'd lost, or perhaps you'd left it in America along with many other things. He's brought it back to life, and so much more along with it.

All that magic, all that wonder, all that love and hope and joy — Namjoon is right. It hasn't disappeared from the world, and you haven't outgrown the things you used to feel during the holiday season. It's all still right here, in front of you and around you, waiting to be taken with grateful hands and heart. Maybe it's not in the form it used to be, nor is it in the place it used to be, but neither are you. Both you and your home have changed this year. But despite it all, you are still here, still striving to love yourself and your new life, still trying to let the magic find you.

And this year, because of a wonderful person named Kim Namjoon, you had all the love and magic you could ever need.

#bangtan-madi writes #christmas collab #bts christmas collab #bts christmas fic #christmas oneshot #christmas fic #holiday fic #holiday oneshot #bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #namjoon #kim namjoon #rm #rm x reader #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x reader #strangers to lovers #bts x reader #kim namjoon oneshot #namjoon oneshot #namjoon fic #kim namjoon fic #rm fic #rm oneshot #kpop #figure skater au #figure skater!namjoon #cafe au #barista!mc

[jamespotterthefirst]

Little Miracle

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 1,900 Warning: A few curse words. 

Author’s Note: This is part of the canon scene where Ethan and MC watch over Dolores’s baby, from Ethan’s POV. I was inspired by the line from the book that says they “talked long into the night.”

Catch up here.

The sterile room of the NICU feels stifling that night, the fluorescent lights shining on them both almost blinding. Ethan had been in that room many times before, but never like this. Never with a strain on his mind and heart so painful, he thinks he might burst from it. Now, sitting in the love seat, counting each of the baby's breaths, he feels as though he is in a foreign place—a vastly terrible one where his dearest friend does not exist anymore. 

The knot in his throat returns. 

Dammit. 

It threatens to constrict his breathing in the most debilitating way and he hates it. Urgently, he suppresses the flood of emotion at once, turning instead to glance at Lilac next to him. 

The young doctor is not looking at him. In the silence that stretches between them, she stares at the linoleum floor, her tear-streaked face is pale, her eyes bleary and red. The weight of their previous conversation hangs over them and he is surprised to discover it is not an unpleasant one. Instead, her quiet presence at his side feels oddly… comforting. More so than the many glasses of scotch he was planning on drowning in had he not stayed. 

Sensing his eyes on her, she glances up and offers him a tired smile which Ethan returns without hesitation. The moment lingers and before either of them can say anything, a soft cooing distracts them as the baby stretches.

An inexplicable warmth pierces through Ethan as he very gently offers Dolores' baby his hand. Small fingers close around his, weakly, yet powerful enough to steal his breath away. 

“She named him after you,” she informs him tenderly, as though the words she is offering him are made of the most delicate crystal. 

A small wave of shock courses through him as he looks at the name. 

Ethan Hudson. 

His throat tightens painfully yet again and all he can do is swallow. 

“I...see she did.”

A small silence.

Her soothing, kind voice saves him from his thoughts when she comments, “You must have known Dolores a long time.”

Ethan busies himself with carefully removing his hand from the baby's grasp. Despite the painful ache in his throat, he finds the words. “Over ten years. When I first emailed her I only meant to check in. But she was recently divorced, feeling alone, so she insisted on coffee.” In spite of himself, he smiles at the memory of the lively yet persistent young woman who had been so determined to befriend him. “And then it turned into more emails and meeting once every couple months for Sunday roast.”

“She sounds like a good friend.”

She was, he thinks before his mind catches up with him. When it does, the past tense stabs him like a knife to the side. 

“I didn’t make friends easily when I started here,” he begins, pausing only briefly to keep his voice from breaking. “So I was always grateful to her for that.”

The words finish ringing out in the quiet room and he swallows, suddenly exhausted from fighting back the excruciating pain of Dolores's death. As he falls silent, prickling eyes moving to the baby she fought so fiercely to protect, Ethan allows himself to mourn. The torrent of sorrow hits him is like the opening of a floodgate. 

He is certain he will drown in his grief until a soft, warm hand slides over his, looking small and delicate against his own. 

Ethan remains very still. 

“I’m so sorry this happened,” she murmurs, the sincerity her voice offers something akin to a caress. 

Ethan's eyes remain locked on their joined hands. Something about the sight and the feel of her soft skin against his tears away at his pride until all he wants to do is hold on to her desperately. Instead, he looks up to meet her eyes, unprepared for the quiet compassion in their depths. It hits him so abruptly that he is unable to look away, feeling something foreign stir in the depths of his chest, as consequential as the first blooms of Spring. 

“Me too.” 

As the seconds tick by and he becomes very aware that her hand remains on his, his pulse picks up, clamoring at his ears. With much effort, he forces himself to pull away. 

“I think we need coffee.”

“I can get some,” she says, already rising to her feet, unaware of the scorching trail her touch left behind on his skin. 

Ethan shakes his head. “No, I’ll go.” 

He leaves the room in quick strides, grateful for the brief moment of solitude. Being alone, however, proves to be a small torment since he is unable to suppress thoughts of earnest, kindhearted eyes breaking down every barrier he had stubbornly built that evening. Steaming mugs of coffee in hand, he returns to the NICU with an eager haste he refuses to acknowledge, missing the tendrils of her soft companionship. 

When he enters the room, Ethan finds her lovingly murmuring to the baby. “That’s it little tadpole. In and out.”

Lilac notices his arrival, offering him a sheepish smile at being caught. Cheeks blazing, she accepts the coffee gratefully. “This doesn’t taste like the cafeteria coffee,” she observes approvingly. 

“This is from my private coffee machine. As soon as I got an office, I vowed never to drink that caffeinated dishwater again.” He watches her take this information in with knowing amusement. “Nobody knows I have it so…”

Quite seriously, she vows, “I won’t tell a soul.”

Ethan chuckles, shaking his head, the first true flash of amusement that evening. 

They fall into a comfortable silence after that until the attending overseeing the case during the night shift strolls in to check on the baby. Satisfied with her findings, she quickly jots down the information on his chart. 

“Our little miracle,” she comments quietly, both to the baby and to them, before leaving the room. 

Ethan snuffs the urge to scoff at the word miracle. Lilac, of course, catches this and arches a brow at him. 

“You don't believe in those,” she says, not as a question but as an undeniable observation. 

Ethan hesitates to answer until he glances at her. There is no trace of judgment or derision on her lovely face, just fatigue from already spending several hours keeping watch. 

“There is no scientific basis to account for them,” he allows. “Frankly, I'm a little surprised you believe in them despite choosing to spend your career with facts and empirical evidence.” He is careful to keep all sarcasm out of his tone though he doubts he is successful. Years of being a sardonic little shit are hard to break. 

Lilac doesn't seem to mind, however, because she gives him an indulging sort of smile. “It is because I have studied science and facts that I am hesitant to dismiss their existence,” she explains. “Even with everything we know, there are some things science or reason cannot explain.”

“There are too many variables at play in a single minute, Rookie,” he counters. “When something occurs that we cannot explain away, it means a plethora of those variables aligned to create a perfect outcome.”

Lilac takes a careful sip of coffee, watching him over the rim of her mug. Not for the first time, he can see her mind working, formulating an argument. And like many times before, he longs to know the mystery of her thoughts.

“And getting that outcome despite all the innumerable possibilities,” she begins thoughtfully. “Isn't that a little miraculous?”

“No.”

Lilac laughs at the resolute way in which he shoots her down, though the sound is far from mocking. 

“Are you then crediting what science cannot explain to coincidence and luck, Dr. Ramsey?” 

He briefly pauses at that, thoughts stumbling. The haughty way in which she lifts the mug to her lips, concealing a smug smile, tells him she had intended to stump him. Instead of feeling annoyed, as he should, he feels a thrill of approval and something else entirely. 

“Not at all,” he returns when he recovers. “I am merely pointing out that there is still much we don't know as a species. When something inexplicable takes place, the real cause is most likely attributed to something we haven't learned yet.”

Despite looking utterly exhausted, her eyes glint, as though she had expected that very answer. 

 “'If he is confronted with a miracle as an irrefutable fact he would rather disbelieve his own senses than admit the fact.'”

Ethan blinks. 

“Are you seriously quoting Dostoevsky at me, Rookie?” 

This time, she dissolves into self deprecating laughter. “Sorry,” she says, scrunching her nose in the most endearing of ways. “I studied him as an elective when I was in my undergrad program so it's hard to break out of the habit of being a pretentious ass.”

“A pre-med student with a penchant for world literature,” he observes, allowing himself to relax into the air of amusement her laughter catalyzes. 

“I was downright insufferable.”

“So not much has changed.”

Lilac throws him what is meant to be an unamused glare, but she ruins it by losing the battle against a smile. Ethan grins, unable to help it. 

“What else do you walk around quoting at people who disagree with you?” he asks, genuinely curious. 

“Nothing as severe as Russian literature,” she quips. “I save that for the most stubborn of the people I argue with.” 

Ethan rolls his eyes though he too fails to stifle a smile. He begrudgingly accepts that he enjoys bantering with her, though he would never admit it out loud. 

“Be lucky I didn't quote Harry Potter at you,” Lilac continues sagely. “I am notorious for that, too.”

“There's nothing in the Potter books about miracles,” he points out. 

Lilac shoots him a surprised look. “You've read them?” 

“Yes, I read the few that were out when I was in high school. They had midnight release events at bookstores when a new one was published.”

She stares at him in stunned silence. 

“You went to that? That is so…” 

“Don't say–” 

“Cute.” 

The word sends a jolt through him, made worse by the sound of her tired but giddy laughter. Ethan allows her to enjoy the mirth, even if it's at his expense. If he was being honest, he thoroughly enjoyed it too, feeling his anguish ease with each passing moment. 

“Did you dress up?” she asks, eyes alight with excitement. 

“We are not speaking of this anymore.”

“You did, didn't you?” she manages to say through a wave of fresh laughter. “Who did you dress up as? Harry? Dumbledore? Snape?” 

Ethan makes a disgusted sound. “Don't insult me.”

Her laughter is uncontrollable by now and he can't help but join. “Good answer,” she commends. 

Bodies close on the love seat, they both relax further into their seats, contentment lingering in their fading smiles. Ethan allows himself one good look at her as she becomes momentarily distracted by her phone. The harsh lightning of the NICU washes her out, especially in her sleep-deprived, exhausted state, but somehow she still looks unfairly beautiful. Yet, there is something entirely different about her, though he is far too tired to decipher what. 

Lilac glances up to catch him staring. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.”

Her previous words echo in his mind.

 “There are some things science or reason cannot explain.”

Ethan thinks of Dolores and the unwavering friendship she offered him despite being surly and unapproachable. He thinks of the unconditional love she held for a being she had not even met yet, so profound she gave her life for him. He thinks of Lilac, offering him compassion and companionship despite his every effort to push her away. 

Lilac glances glances his way, beaming at him radiantly. As he returns the smile, his heart feeling ten times lighter than it did an hour ago, he admits to himself that she was right. 

______

Author’s Note: I don’t know what that was but if you made it here, thank you! 

I think I will skip the baseball game scene and go on to the fMRI scene. I might have that be slightly AU and have Ethan ask MC the questions. Let me know what you think <3 

______

Tags:  @openheart12 | @ethandaddyramsey | @noboundariesplease | @silverlitskies | @infinitiestones | @flyawayboo | @paulfwesley | @hatescapsicum | @myusualnerdyself | @thatysn | @choicesyouplayandmore | @chasingrobbie | @trappedinfandoms | @togetherwearerapture | @nooruleman | @caseyvalentineramsey | @axwalker | @parkerattano | @i-bloody-love-drake-walker | @kaavyaethanramsey | @edith-eggs1 | @choices-lurker | @jens-diamondchoices | @tefigranger | @ethanrcmsey | @coffeebeandragon | @senator-adrian-raines-wifey | @aestheticartwriting | @binny1985 | @mvalentine | @sanchita012 | @drethanramslay | @ramseysno1rookie | @takeharryandgo | @aworldoffandoms | @desmaranj | @ josieplayschoices | @magicalshepherdtreeprofessor| @oofchoices | @ethxnrxmsey | @octobereighth | @colossalpainintheass | @kopenheart12 | @lilyvalentine | @honeyandsunfl0wers | @virtualrain202 | @enmchoices | @tyrilstouch | @rookie-ramsey​

@dulceghernandez |  @lion-ess24 | @emotionalswift2 | @the-soot-sprite |

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #playchoices #my writing

[fumikomiyasaki]

Carol Ann

Name: Carol Ann

Nickname: Cars (Her sister), Anna (Her mother when she is angry with Carol), Betta (Floyd), Lady of Knowledge (Flynn), Mademoiselle du Sagesse (Rook), Peach (Lustre) , Apples (Lyla, Jesh) ,  Specs (Lonan) , Apple Babe, Apple tits, (Arsene),  Caramel (Pankraz), Miss Ann (Henry)

Role: Acts not as MC, but as Support to the MC, hence she is a second year.

A summary of her Story and Role here

Overblot  / her many Facial expressions

Age: 18

Sexuality: Straight

D.O.B: 16th of April (Aries)

Height: 5'8 or 172 cm

Weight: 68 kg

Blood Type: AB

Dorm: Ramshackle / Diasomnia as transfer

Magic: None at first,

After overblot she gains Nature themed abilities from a cursed book: including Vines, flowers and more

Unique Magic:

Full blossom

Can place a flower on someones body to increase healing process and prevent scars, however the flower has to stay on the body untill its done then it falls off by itself

Voice Claim: English  / Japanese

Nationality: Germany, moved to Japan or wherever the Nicoronpa canon plays.

Her talent makes her good in many languages, she struggles with French though.

Likes: Green apples, Mythology, Rock music, monster stories, books, swimming, dance,

Dislikes: White chocolate, hawks, heat, coffee

What is Carols fashion like and what does she dislike

Her bag, Her phone

Family:

Mother: Catherine Ann

Age: 53

Catherine has a part-time job when Megan and Carol have or had school so

she could earn money but also be right there to prepare dinner for everyone.

Her Hobbies are knitting. Carol has from her the kindness and that her mother

also is a voice of reason in peoples live.

She likes to lighten up people's mood and help them some way.

Sometimes the intelligence of her Husband goes one her nerve,

because she feels like he has to show off, but they in the

end resolve it always peacefully.

She is very attached to her daughters, because she can easily forget things

and they remind her.

Father: Jonathan Ann

Age: 52

He is the one who works the most for the Family in earning Money in a big factory.

Carol has from him her intelligence but also her geekiness, because

her Father loves watching superhero Movies and mystery series.

What Franchise he likes is mostly shown through stuff he collects,

T-shirts he has and well just him ranting about his favourites a lot.

He is overprotective of his two daughters and would do anything for them.

but he can also be kinda lazy from time to time. And easily angered if his computer

won't work or some things don't go as planned.

Also he makes some of the worst puns and tries to look like a cool daddy and fails miserably.

Carol is embarrassed of him but also loves her father still.

Sister: Megan Ann

Age: 28

Megan Ann was Carol’s idol in the past.

They spend lots of time together growing up and were very close.

That changed when Megan moved away and got her new job.

She told Carol it was an office job, but in actuality Megan works as an Police officer.

This job is important to her but she hides it from Carol to not get her sister involved in her jobs. (Like if criminals would kidnap her sister to spite Megan as police officer)

Her first case was also her biggest downfall because since then she is on the run from the criminal and switches from branch to branch to not be found by him.

Which leads in both sister suffering from not seeing each other again.

Megan was part of the schools track team and is pretty athletic compared to her sister.

She is smaller than Carol and sometimes mistaken for a 16-Year old.

She loves fried Tofu with passion. Also the reason Carol loves Rock music so much.

-She is smaller than Carol

-Was in track and field in school

-Horrible singer

-Loves vintage stuff

-fangirling for Boybands

-Mostly fan of Rock and J-pop to K-pop

-still acts like a teen

Personality: Carol is the group mom, kind caring, tries to be reasonable and a shoulder to lean on. She can get angry if people don't take her serious. She was insecure, but thanks to meeting Eve, she got more open and speaks her mind more.In matters of love she is more on the shy and easily flustered side if it’s about her. However she does have some hidden dirty thoughts on occasion she tries her best to hide. Can be bold once used to a relationship...

If it’s about others she is supportive and sweet but does not take shit from people unless they are dangerous...She also can handle some people who try to egg her on and refute it back at them. However she can be pretty judgemental of some people.

She can be pretty strict when people slack of in her lessons though.

Things she can do well and things she can not do well:

-The title as Ultimate Tutor makes her good at almost any subject in school however... she struggles in sports, crafting things, and things that don’t require knowledge but physical things

-Has from the start good knowledge about first aid and is always there to patch people up and bandage them, also good at massages

-Social enough to talk to people and fit in but... struggles if things go too social, she has to be pulled to parties and watched out for or else she doesn’t feel well

-Clumsy on occasions, not only in body but also... she accidentally upsets other people with her words but she also apoligizes

-Even when she would get magic through her overblot its weak and only does small things like healing wounds faster and create vines... she is not a fighter and more a pacifist but she could train it

-Can play some things on the Piano thanks to her best friend.

-Her food looks horrible, like a pixelated mess but it doesn’t taste bad.

art by @/unfinished-projects-galore , Coloring by myself

History:

Carol grew up with her sister and her parents in a little apartment, which caused Megan and Carol to live in a room together.

From birth on her parents read to her lots of fairy tales and stories, which as she was old enough to read herself caused Carol to love books. She read History books, encyclopedias and lots of stories about pirates, magicians, and fairies, but also

monster stories at a very young age. History she mostly interested in Egyptian and Greek lore, which later caused her to dress up in grade school as Cleopatra. But mostly around grade school time, Carol started as a shy girl that sat in her corner and read books.

As Carol grew up, she mostly had a talent for learning things fast. She was the top of her Class in school and tutored many of her classmates usually. As small girl she was quite shy and only had one Childhood friend she called a best friend..Some people called her an Alien, others wanted to hang out with her because they were impressed by her.Teachers asked her if she wanted to skip classes, but Carol denied it. Her thoughts from the beginning were

she wanted to live like a normal Student and enjoy what school had to offer.Carol admired her sister Megan a lot, and kinda wanted to be like her as well, because of her sister

was always surrounded by friends, joined a dancing club beside her school and also good very good grades.

Thanks to growing up with her sister Carol already got into rock music, so after deciding to be open and just be herself,

Carol started rather than before where she dress more formal and with more dresses, she from then on dressing more rock themed and unique than before. At least when it's free time.

As middle school started things turned different, her sister graduated and moved out, which was hard for Carol.

She loves her parents, but she was happy in between to have Megan to understand her problems and thoughts better.

Carol from then on mostly never took help from others and kept her sadness and loneliness to herself, just smiling if others asked her or wanted to comfort her and say it's nothing.

She overworked herself to help her fellow classmates and get their appreciation, which made her finished every day after school.

Teachers were not as impressed as before and more offended by her talent than anything.

One teacher in particular, named Ms. Lumina, was lazier out of the bunch and started to manipulate others around Carol to avoid her and ignore her. Friends that Carol trusted once turned against her, her talent she saw now more than a curse than a blessing. She wondered if she should stay and endure or should switch school.

From that time one things started to take a big turn. One night Carol looked into her mirror frustrated about what happens to her. She could hear a voice that told her: “Do you want to change your life? Live as a new person at a new school?” Carol sighed… “If I could escape this situation, I would.”

And so she was led through the mirror to Night Raven College. As the game began.

I can imagine her be sometimes a bit meta about characters because she read many fairytales. Could imagine it be funny.

Her look as Adult.

______________________________________________

But also the lovely design by weirdbell

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twistedwonderlandoc #twistedwonderland #twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland ocs #twst mc #mc #carol ann #ramshackle

[kulaykape]

5 Reasons to Wife Her: Ina x MC

A little Drabble that was sitting in my drafts, thought I might as well post it. Not my best writing, but I haven't put anything out in a while.

Sliiiightly NSFW language (very briefly), but nothing explicit happens. Enjoy! 😊

Reason 1: Attentive

Aliyah let out a groan as she collapsed on the couch, the soreness shooting through her ass (and everywhere else) just because of that simple movement. That's what she got for skimping around leg day for almost three weeks. She threw her arm over her eyes and grimaced, the light from just the living room lamp too bright.

On the bright side… sex is gonna be awesome, she thought, promptly bringing a smile back to her own face.

Speaking of sex, where was Ina?

Aliyah moved her arm and sat up slightly to look around Ina's apartment. She was in her office while Aliyah had been taking a shower, but the office door was ajar and Ina was nowhere to be found.

A pair of hands covering her eyes answered her question. Aliyah let out a screech, and she would've jumped away if she had the energy to.

"Boo," A voice said through a laugh. Aliyah clicked her tongue as she pulled Ina's hands away.

"I don't need to be bullied with jump scares right now," Aliyah grumbled. Although Aliyah, in all her mischief, probably deserved everything that might come to her. Ina was still traumatized from that time Aliyah had found a human-sized goose head mask and… eugh.

But in spite of that, Ina hummed sympathetically as she came around to sit on the couch. Aliyah noticed a box of takeout in her hands, and two bottles of Don Park Rum between her fingers. Her stomach growled loud enough for Ina to very easily hear.

Aliyah stared in contempt and embarrassment down at her stomach while Ina laughed richly. She set the food on the coffee table and lifted up Aliyah's legs so she could sit down, pulling her legs back into her lap.

A takeout box was handed to Aliyah, and she took it gratefully. "When did you even go out to get food?" She asked.

"While you were showering," Ina replied, "You looked exhausted, and I thought I might treat you."

Gah, softness. Aliyah could practically feel herself turning into a lump of mush for this woman.

She leaned forward with a grateful smile and pulled Ina into a slow, gentle kiss. Ina tangled a hand into her hair as she tugged on Aliyah's lip, eyes shining with a smirk as Aliyah groaned.

The two of them pulled back to rest their foreheads against one another's, while Aliyah peppered Ina's face with kisses on random spots. Ina laughed as Aliyah kissed just below her eye, then the tip of her nose, then the corner of her mouth.

"Eat your food," she scolded, pushing Aliyah in the chest until she was laying back again. "I didn't get that just so you could try and eat me instead."

Aliyah threw her head back and laughed. "Guess I'll just have to have you for dessert," she said. Ina smirked as she took a bite of her own food, shooting Aliyah a wink. Aliyah let out a groan as she took her first bite off food, and just had to give Ina another peck on the cheek. "Yowr tha bethst," she said.

Ina laughed as she nudged Aliyah's cheek with the handle of her fork. "And you're absolutely adorable." Damn right she was.

While Aliyah began to wolf down her food, Ina flipped through the channels until it was on adult swim. Bob's Burgers, Ali's favorite show, was playing.

Aliyah let out a cheer while Ina set her box down, and moved her hands to Aliyah's legs. The younger woman shot her a stern look. Ina laughed lightly.

"I'm just going to give you a massage," she said.

But Aliyah's look didn't waver. "Last time you said that, you fingered me."

For once, Ina wasn't sent into a sputtering spiral by Aliyah's blunt explicitness. "That was an internal massage," she retorted as she started to knead her palms into Aliyah's thighs. Aliyah half-snorted and half-groaned as she quickly realized that goddamn, Ina Kingsley was good with her hands.

Aliyah rested her head against the couch's armrest and smiled, that satisfied look Ina had been chasing achieved. Warm food in her hands, her favorite show playing, and a beautiful woman giving her sore legs a massage? Heaven.

While one hand kept working, Ina reached the other out to run through Aliyah's hair. The curls sprung back into place once her hand left, and Ina let out a chuckle. It was almost as if Ali's hair was just as alive as the rest of her.

Before she could retract her hand, Aliyah caught it and held it gently. A sincere thank you was in her eyes, and with it she stared lovingly at Ina.

"You're the best, you know. This is exactly what I needed," she said. She pressed a kiss to each of Ina's knuckles, and the older woman just had to grin. Aliyah held Ina's hand under her chin, and smiled with all the lovestruck tenderness of a high schooler in puppy love. "Thank you, baby."

Ina hummed as she pressed a kiss to Aliyah's knee. "I love you. And I want to spend every moment I have with you reminding you of that," she said.

It was far from Ina's first declaration of love, but Aliyah would be worried if she ever stopped feeling that same rush of euphoria each time she said it.

She inhaled sharply, and was all of a sudden a little shy to look at Ina. Ina would mistaken it for her turning back to her show, but Bob's Burgers was the last thing Aliyah was paying attention to.

Damn, she thought.

I'm gonna marry this woman, aren't I?

#ina kingsley #professor kingsley #queen b #ina x mc #bebe girl needs some fluffy love 🥺