#.both arriving after christmas i think ( which is fine )

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a heated argument with charles, you watch in horror as his car crashes during a race

୨ৎ : genre : angst ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1318

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say life can change in the blink of an eye. One second, everything feels steady, solid, like the ground beneath your feet couldn’t possibly give way. And then it does. Maybe that’s the irony of it all—you never see it coming. Not really. You think you’re prepared, think you’ve braced yourself, but you’re never quite ready for the moment it all falls apart.

You fought this morning. Not just a little spat about something trivial—no, this was one of those fights that echoed louder than it should have. The kind that lingered, thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even hours later.

It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, either, but somehow, with Charles, the small things had a way of snowballing. His schedule. Your schedule. The time you didn’t have together. The things he didn’t say and the things you did.

“I’m trying, okay? You think it’s easy for me?” he’d snapped, his accent sharpening the edges of his words. “You know what this life is like.”

“Yeah, Charles, I do. But I also know you don’t get to use it as an excuse every single time something gets hard. I’m here, too, and I’m trying to make this work just as much as you are.”

His jaw had tightened, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

You’d felt the sting of those words, like a slap across the face. But you weren’t one to back down, not even when the weight of his frustration pressed heavy on your chest.

“You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’m the one waiting, worrying, wondering if this is ever going to feel… stable. Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s never really here?”

The silence that followed was deafening, his features a mix of hurt and anger, like he didn’t know which to lean into more. And then he’d said it.

“Maybe it’s hard because you don’t trust me enough to believe that I’m doing my best.”

You hadn’t answered, and maybe that was the problem. The fight ended there, not because either of you wanted it to but because there was no time to fix it. Not when he had a race to prepare for, and you had to pretend like none of this was tearing you apart from the inside out.

When you arrived at the paddock, it felt impossible to mask the weight of the argument. You greeted a few people with forced smiles, but you could see some of them watching you a little too closely. It didn’t help that Charles seemed just as tense, his jaw set and his usual ease nowhere to be found.

Carlos was the first to pull you aside, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. “¿Qué pasa, eh? You look like someone stole your churros, and Charles… well, he looks worse. What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Amiga, por favor. I know you, and I know him. Whatever this is, it’s not nothing.”

You sighed, glancing over your shoulder where Charles was talking to his engineers. “We just… had a fight this morning. It’s not a big deal.”

Carlos gave you a skeptical look. “Not a big deal? You’re both walking around like someone cancelled Christmas. If you’re not okay, neither is he. You should talk to him before the race.”

You hesitated, the memory of this morning’s argument still fresh in your mind. “I don’t want to distract him. He needs to focus.”

Carlos clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “Tch. If you think he’s focusing now, you’re wrong. You being upset is a bigger distraction than anything else. Go.”

Reluctantly, you nodded and made your way toward Charles. He was still in deep conversation with one of his engineers, but when he saw you approaching, his expression softened—just slightly.

“Hey,” you said quietly, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. There was a pause, the tension between you lingering like a storm cloud.

“Good luck out there,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I mean it. Be safe.”

Charles studied you for a moment, his green eyes searching yours. Then he nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For earlier.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, someone called for him, signaling it was time to get ready. He gave you one last look, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with words unsaid.

The race began, and for a while, the roar of engines and the blur of cars distracted you. Charles was in good form, holding his position, making clean overtakes. You found yourself exhaling with relief every time his car flashed across the screen.

But then it happened.

It was almost too fast to comprehend. One moment, Charles was rounding a corner, perfectly in control. The next, there was smoke, debris, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal.

Your heart stopped.

The commentators’ voices rose in panic, their words a jumbled mess that barely registered in your mind. “Oh no, that’s Leclerc… that’s a big one.”

Everything else faded—the noise of the crowd, the hum of your thoughts—until all that remained was the image of his car, mangled and still.

“Red flag,” one of them said, and that’s when it hit you. They’d stopped the race. It was bad.

Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

The minutes crawled by like hours, every second another layer of dread settling in your chest. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, desperate for any sign, any update, anything to tell you he was okay.

When they finally cut to the scene, you saw the medics surrounding his car, moving quickly but carefully.

“He’s conscious,” one of the commentators said, and you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Not until you saw him. Not until you heard him.

You thought back to the fight, to the last thing he said to you, and it made you sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be the last memory you had of him, the last words you exchanged. It couldn’t.

You were already reaching for your phone, dialing his team, someone, anyone who could give you more than the vague reassurance of the broadcast.

“Please,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please let him be okay.”

It’s strange, how quickly everything can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out, that the argument was just another bump in the road. But in the back of your mind, there’s always that voice whispering, telling you that things might never be the same.

And now, with every second that ticks by, your thoughts spiral, faster and faster, until you can’t breathe. What if this is it? What if those were the last words you ever said to him?

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but all you can see is that image of his car, broken and still. Your pulse races. You told him you loved him today, but did he really hear you? Was he ever truly certain, or was that last moment of tension, the words left unsaid, enough to make him doubt everything?

You hate this. You hate the fear gnawing at you. You hate that you're sitting here, helpless, as he’s out there fighting for his life. That feeling of powerlessness—it’s unbearable.

Please, you think again, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. Please, don’t let this be the end.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[frznwarmth]

i was out all day scouring my city for l&ds merch that my sister showed me two weeks ago. and we couldn't find it ;w;

but! i got a shit ton of plushies and got to play arcade games. so at least there's that...

[gyubakeries]

❆ 𝐠𝐲𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 : 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬! ❆ | 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐮 - 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 <𝟑

❆ 𝑑𝑎𝑦 2: ice-skating | y.jh

a/n: welcome to day 2!! big thanks to sousy for helping me brainstorm! hope you guys like this one <33

word count: 1.1k contents: jeonghan x gn!reader , established relationship , ice-skating , jeonghan is a little shit , reader cannot ice-skate , fluff , crack , christmas fun

"we are not going ice-skating," you shake your head firmly, and jeonghan lets out a whine.

"we went to the couple's cooking class last weekend even though i can't cook for shit!" jeonghan points out. "why can't we go ice-skating today?"

"because you're actually good at it!" you explain. "you're just gonna laugh at me when i fall on my ass."

"i won't let you fall, love," jeonghan smiles, his eyes carrying a glint of mischief. "no promises about the laughter though."

"yeah, my answer is still a no," you repeat stubbornly, crossing your arms.

"come on, y/n," jeonghan nearly begs. "at least try it! i'll hold you through it all and won't let you get hurt. you trust me, don't you?"

when jeonghan tilts his head that way, and uses that tone of his voice on you, it takes very little for your decision to change.

"fine. ice-skating it is."

—

upon arriving at the skating rink, your nerves act up. the pit of your stomach bubbles with anxiety, and jeonghan seems oblivious to it all, dragging you further into the rink with a content smile.

it's alright, you convince yourself. it won't be that bad. i'm doing this for jeonghan.

your boyfriend may be downright evil sometimes, but you know his love for you is real, which is why you whole-heartedly trust him to keep you safe on the rink.

"okay, i picked out your skates. tell me if they're too tight or loose okay?" jeonghan's voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you look down at the skates and gulp.

"y/n? if you don't wanna do it, we can just catch a movie or something," jeonghan offers, seeing how nervous you look.

"no!" you immediately reply, sitting down on a bench to pull the skates on. "i'm just a little tense, but it's alright! i promise."

"okay," jeonghan smiles, kissing your cheek as a token of comfort. "just let me know if you wanna leave anytime, yeah?"

you nod, and the both of you busy yourselves with tying on the skates.

yeah, this was gonna be one interesting day.

—

for all the fuss you made before getting on the ice, you felt surprisingly calm when you entered the rink.

up until you had to let go of the railing.

"jeonghan! i swear if you leave my hand-" you nearly shriek, not caring that there are so many other people on the rink.

"i told you i won't let you go!" jeonghan laughs. "now leave the railing. let's move around a bit."

you grip onto his hand tightly and follow his instructions on how to slowly move on the ice. it's difficult for you, as a first-timer. the skates are heavy, you're barely able to maintain your balance, and the slippery ice isn't helping either.

"y/n, darling, don't be scared," jeonghan assures you, skating over and standing right in front of you. he takes both your hands in his to steady you. "let's try moving slowly, yeah? you'll get the hang of it soon."

"easy for you to say," you huff. "you look like you skate better on ice than walk on normal land."

"you flatter me," jeonghan smiles bashfully, and you roll your eyes at his attempt to act shy.

jeonghan, true to his word, holds on to you as you start skating around the perimeter of the rink. as the minutes pass, you feel more and more confident to start moving on your own.

"i think i wanna try without holding you," you tell jeonghan after half an hour passes, and jeonghan slowly moves away from you, hands outstretched to catch you if you fell.

bravely, you take a few steps forward, thrilled at the fact that you haven't immediately crashed to the ground. you start taking bigger strides.

then you make a big mistake.

caught up in the joy of being able to maintain your balance, you abruptly turn around to face jeonghan, which is when you feel your foot slip, and soon, your ass is meeting the cold ice with a thud.

"shit," you groan, and then, you hear jeonghan bursting into laughter.

he's doubled over and clutching at his stomach at your predicament. there are tears pooling in his eyes as he continues laughing maniacally.

"han!" you call out, half-embarrassed and half-annoyed. "you promised you wouldn’t laugh!"

"that’s exactly what i didn't promise to you, babe," jeonghan wheezes, finally catching his breath. "i'm sorry love, i couldn't help it. you look so adorable right now."

"yeah, sure. a grown-ass person landing on their ass in the middle of a skating rink is adorable," you grumble. "now, are you going to help me up?"

"of course, baby," jeonghan snaps into action, zooming over to you and picking you up from the floor. you hold onto him with a vice-like grip until he gently pushes you over to the railing to take support.

"i'm gonna stay here for a while," you tell jeonghan, gripping onto the railing. "you should go skate for a while. you've just been babysitting me the whole time."

"and i enioyed every second of it," jeonghan winks. "especially the part when you fell."

"just wait till we're back on solid ground, jeonghan," you glare at him. "i'll take my revenge."

"i'll look forward to it," he chuckles, but then his eyes soften and expression turns serious. "you sure you'll be okay here?"

"i'll be fine, don't worry," you assure him. "now go skate; i want to see how good you are."

"sit back and enjoy the show," he smiles smugly, and then he's gliding across the ice while you stay by the railing trying to steady yourself. you watch in awe as jeonghan effortlessly skates all over the rink, yet his eyes are only trained on you.

and it works as a form of silent encouragement, because you muster the courage to push off from the railing and slowly skate over to jeonghan, managing to hold yourself upright and steady.

when you're within his arms reach, you let out a laugh, feeling proud of yourself. "oh my god. oh my god! i did it! did you see that? i didn't fall!" you exclaim, and jeonghan only watches you with fond eyes as you celebrate your little victory, spinning around the rink in circles.

(there's a small girl at the rink who sees jeonghan gaze at you with love in his eyes as you try to race him from one end of the rink to the other.

she can only hope that someone loves her this dearly when she grows up too.)

- fin.

divider made by @bernardsbendystraws !

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@theidontknowmehn @baseball-dokyeom @t-102 @aaa-sia @cixrosie

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[the-offside-rule]

Lando Norris (McLaren) - Dress Up

Day 8 of Christmas

“Please, don’t make me wear this.” Lando mumbled. “Oh come on! Liam is gonna love this.” Y/n grinned as she adjusted the beard on her boyfriend's face. “He’s gonna know it’s me.” Lando protested. “Hes going to me too excited to tell. All you have to do is come in, and let him sit on your lap.” Y/n explained the plan. “You can sit on my lap.” Lando winked as she just stared back at him in an annoyed fashion. “You’re no fun.” He muttered, letting her fix the minor details on his Santa suit. It was a drunk idea of his to buy a Santa suit to surprise Y/n's nephew. The plan was the drive into the driveway in his road car, then hop out with presents and stuff for the kid. The couple completely forgot about it until the suit arrived to their home a few days ago.

"He's gonna be home with mum any minute, so just go along with it!" Lando's hands dropped to Y/n's waist as she fixed his beard. "Don't try anything." Y/n warned. "I'm not doing anything." He replied, knowing damn well he was far from innocent. "Babe, get your hands off now." She chuckled. "But when I'm not doing anything, why should I?" She looked up slightly and was met with his adoring eyes. "Don't look at me with those eyes." She said. "What eyes?" He chuckled, leaning in ever so close. "Lando. They're bound to come back any second, now." He grinned. "Just one kiss." Y/n couldn't help but give in. Her arms flung around his neck and closed the gap between them, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. It was all going fine....that was until-

"Y/n!" Y/n and Lando jumped away from eachother from the sudden voice. Her mum stood in the doorway holding various bags while Liam stood excitedly by her side. "Woah! Y/n, you kissed Santa!" Liam said running towards them. "No, I- Liam I would never! I'm with Lando, remember?" Y/n tried to convince him he hadn't saw her kiss Santa, but he did and that was that. "Nana saw it too!" He said gleaming with joy. "No, she didn't!"

"I wish I didn't." Her mum mumbled. Y/n shot her a look. "Come on, let's just meet him. How's that sound?" Lando nailed the Santa look. He nailed everything, for the whole 20 minutes he was there. "I have to go now, Liam." Lando said in a deeper voice. "But, what is your biggest wish?" Liam thought for a moment before he pulled Lando down towards him and whispered into his ear. Lando looked up to Y/n, almost shocked before smiling. "I'll work my magic and I'll make sure it happens." He replied, patting him on the head. "Bye Santa!" Liam grinned, hugging the big man before he left out the front door and quickly running by the side as to not let Liam see.

As Y/n's mother settled down her grandson, Y/n snuck out the back to help Lando sneak back inside. She opened the shed door and there stood Lando taking his beard off. "Hello, Santa." Y/n smiled. "Have you been naughty or nice?" He grinned. Y/n rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the bright red suit. "Come on, before you freeze to death." After carefully sneaking him back in, Lando began changing. "So, I think you should wear some "Do you wanna help me out of it?" Lando asked in a suggestive tone. "My whole family is do better!" Y/n replied, slapping his chest playfully and walking away. "You love me really!" Lando called out. "I did cheat on you with Santa, though. Didn't I?"

As Christmas day finally came, the family all sat by Lando and Y/n's tree to open the gifts. Both sides of the family were there which was different, but a nice change. Liam and Landos niece Mila got to open their gifts first before everyone else did too. Y/n took the moment in. They should bring both families over to Monaco more often in all honesty. It's just too magical. "Did you get my present yet?" Lando whispered. Y/n smiled and shook her head. "No, I don't think so." Lando bent down u der the tree, searching frantically for his gift before pulling out a small wrapped box and handing it to her. "What's this? Earrings?" Y/n smiled as she tore the wrapping off the small parcel Lando had given her. "Just open it." He replied.

Y/n looked at the black box with gold writing on it.

Lando & Y/n

Est. 2019

She smiled at Lando. It was probably a necklace with a photo of them inside it. "Well, open it." Her mum egged her on, holding her phone out. Y/n turned to see Lando's mum doing the exact same thing. She opened the box, rather confused at the fuss before she fully understood. There in the velvet inside casing was a beautiful and dainty diamond ring, with Lando and Y/n's initials and anniversary date printed on the inside of the band. She looked over to Lando, who shifted from his seat and down to one knee. Her hands covered her mouth.

"Y/n, I love you so much. And we have been on one hell of a ride together so I wanted this Christmas to be our most special and ask you to be my wife by the next, if you'll accept." Lando said, taking the box into his hand. "Of course, you muppet!" Y/n replied through tears. As Lando placed the ring on her finger, their families rejoiced and the couple kissed. Their first of many kisses an fiancées.

Later on whilst the family were getting ready for Christmas dinner, Lando helped Y/n get ready in their room when a question that had been bugging Y/n all day came up. "Lando?" She asked. Lando looked up from his watch. "Yes, my love?" She smiled at his pet name for her. "Why did you ask me today?" Lando grinned and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling jnto her neck. "Let's just say, a certain little boy had a dream of making Lando Norris his Uncle officially."

[lilozzzyo3569]

Fluff Jack Mercer x F!Reader

Summary: Your nephew is visiting, and wants to play street hockey by the Mercer house. You were quite close with Ms. Mercer but had somehow never met her sons. Or least one in particular, who just happens to be great at hockey and very willing to teach it to your nephew. Especially if it means getting closer to you.

Warnings: MDNI, I don't own this man (but I guess I wasn't meant to be happy), Jack Mercer is alive because I refuse to accept his death, Jack is visiting Ms. Mercer when you come over, Female Reader has a teenage nephew that plays street hockey, a short fluffy little fic

It was Christmas time, and your nephew was spending time at your house during his winter break. After numerous attempts you finally agree to take him to the annual pick up street hockey game over by Ms. Mercer's house.

Upon arriving to the game you let your nephew run off to join in as you turn to see Ms. Mercer sitting on her porch. You smile before walking up to greet her, "Shouldn't you be inside? It's freezing out here" you move to help her inside. "I am fine out here, besides someone has to referee and keep these kids honest" she smirks back at you making you laugh. "At least let me get you something warm to drink so you don't catch a cold" you tell her before going inside to make her a cup of tea, as she simply waves her hand towards you.

You were always doing this doting on her, Ms. Mercer was always so kind to you especially when you first moved to the neighborhood. She basically took you under her wing and became like a mother to you.

You sat down next to Ms. Mercer on her porch as you watched the kids play street hockey as the two of you enjoyed your tea. You're trying to hold back your giggling as your nephew slips on his skates causing him to send the puck flying towards the house. You and Ms. Mercer laugh until you hear a deep gravely voice come from behind you, "What's going on out here?" You turn and look up to see a man, a young man walking onto the porch investigate the noise.

"Calm down Jack, it's just the kids playing around- Oh this is my neighbor, I don't think you two have met" she responds waving him off. He rolls his eyes and looks down at you, shamelessly eyeing your figure before smiling approvingly. He is tall, blonde hair that he has coiffed in a messy punk way, wearing a leather jacket and a James Dean- devil-may-care way about him right from the jump. He was handsome, very handsome, with a boyish charm but with a voice that made your knees weak. But love and or lust was not what you were focused on right now. You give him a half- hearted smile before turning back to the game, keeping a close eye on your nephew. "So which one is yours?" Jack asks you making you laugh "my nephew is the one in the green that is barely keeping himself up right, I suppose I'm to blame though I am a terrible skater" your joke making him laugh.

"I could teach him how to skate, I-" he offers before you but him off, "Oh no I couldn't ask you to do tha-" you smile shaking your head not wanting to inconvenience him before Ms. Mercer interrupted you both. "Let him teach the boy to skate, who knows maybe you will also finally learn as well, now if you two will excuse me I am going to get more tea" she said as she got up leaving you and Jack alone to watch the kids.

The next day you went over to the Mercer house with your nephew, barely knocking on the door when Jack almost rips it open to smile at you both. "Hi, I hope we aren't too early" you say keeping your nephew close as you both hold your skates. "Not at all, come on lets get started" he responds ushering you and your nephew into the street to practice as he grabs his skates.

He has your nephew practicing going around some cones while you sit on the porch and watch, "Aren't you gonna try?" he asks skating towards you, making you laugh out loud. "I don't know, I have managed this far without skating so I think maybe I should sit this one out," he smirks before cocking an eyebrow at you making you sigh and roll your eyes before putting on your own skates.

He helps you onto the street, holding your hand as you shakily move, putting most of your weight on him, making him chuckle. "Hey don't laugh, this was your ide- ahh" you trip falling into his arms. "If you wanted to get closer to me all you had to do was ask" he says wiggling his eyebrows, and holding your waist. "Am not," you giggle nervously trying to hide the warming of your cheeks as you try to push off his surprisingly sturdy chest. "If you two are done falling in love, can someone help me do this spin?" your nephew interrupts. And that's how it starts, from that moment you started spending more time at the Mercer house with your nephew. Usually Jack would split his time between helping your nephew practice outside and flirting with you.

You were standing in the kitchen helping Ms. Mercer cook dinner when Jack came up behind you, putting his chin on your shoulder and dipping his finger into the apple filling you were mixing. You gently hit his hand "Oh no you don't mister" you tell him before he quickly wraps his arms around you trying to lick his finger. You grab his hand trying to pull it away from his lips before he pulls you impossibly closer winking at you making your cheeks grow hot as he licked his fingers and releasing and sultry, "Mmm, delicious." You gently slap his chest making him laugh "Get out of here" you chuckle before your nephew runs in after Jack. "Hey man come on I need you watch this and tell me if it looks right?" you smile as he drags Jack away explaining the move he is trying to practice before going back home to your sister and your brother in law. Ms. Mercer was kind enough to help you cook a going home dinner for him. The dinner was filled with laughter and smiles as you all ate. You tried to enjoy the night even though you were going to miss your nephew, since your older sister was on her way to pick him up.

It's after dinner when you and Jack are sitting on the couch watching TV as your nephew is wrapping his hockey stick next to his duffle bag, and Ms. Mercer is knitting. Jack has his arm wrapped around you, and you put your head on his shoulder as he rubs up and down your arm, when you hear a knock at the door. You begrudgingly stand to open the door as your older sister practically bursts through the door to hug you, "Hey! How was he? How are you? Why aren't you home? Oh hi everyone!" your sisters energy was always on level 10 especially after not seeing her for a couple weeks. You smile, "Everything is fine, relax, and this is Ms. Mercer and her son Jack, everyone this is my very energetic older sister" you can't help but smile when you look at him. Your sister smiles seeing the look and waves at everyone. "Are you hungry we have extra food?" you ask before she shakes her head "No no it's fine, we have to catch our flight" she says as your nephew stands,

You smile at him, not even needing to look down as you somehow just now realize how tall he is. "Alright bud, it's been fun, you tell me how tryouts go when you get back home, okay?" Jack tells him before giving him a quick hug, as your nephew nods excitedly. Ms. Mercer stands and gives him a hug as well "It was so lovely meeting you, and you don't forget to come back and visit, and call you hear me?" she says with a stern voice before kissing him on the cheek as he responds "Yes ma'am." You stand by your sister before your nephew walks to you and says "thank you for letting me visit auntie, I had a blast!" he says giving you a bone crunching hug making you laugh. "Of course kiddo, you are more than welcome to visit anytime" you smile before giving him one final hug as he leaves with your sister.

After your nephew and your sister left Ms. Mercer went to bed. You shower and put on one of Jacks old band t-shirts, and a pair of sweatpants that he left in the bathroom for you. You walk out of the bathroom and see Jack smiling at you from the doorway of his room. You smile lightly before turning to go sleep on the couch. "Oh no you don't, come here." He says as he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards him. "I am going to couch Jack," he simply shakes his head pulling you into his room. He wraps his arms around you resting his chin on the top of your head making you giggle. "And why should I not go to the couch?" you ask as he stutters "Um I'm afraid of the dark and need you to fend off monsters." You laugh out loud, "the only monster here is you, Jack" he spins you around and looks down into your eyes and says "Maybe so, but you should be alone tonight regardless sweetheart." You roll your eyes and smile.

You get into bed with Jack as you cuddle up to him releasing a deep sigh as you sniffle quietly. He pulls you closer and starts to rub your back, "Hey baby, what's with the long face?" he asks kissing the top of your head as you respond, "Is it weird that I miss him already?" you ask look up at him making him grin. "Not at all, but it's not like he's going to another planet he's just going home, and then he will probably be back for the summer and he can tell me all about how he is killing it in hockey" you smile still feeling a bit sad "yeah I guess you're right." you say as you snuggle your head into his chest as he continues to rub your back. He starts to hum a song as he starts to gently rock you to sleep. Feeling the vibrations from his chest, his large warm gently caressing your back, your arms, and through your hair, as the deep beautiful baritone of his voice sending you drifting peacefully off to sleep.

Sorry for disappearing for like ever but life has been the death of me, hopefully you like this little drabble. Thank you all for reading and all of the support. XOXO

[azzifuddworlddomination]

casual pt. 3

paige x azzi fic

yall already knowwwww i did not proof read

this is mostly filler

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

“No… no… no…” Colleen replies mindlessly as Azzi holds up different shirts, “Az, I seriously don’t think going to Montana is a good idea. How did you even get your parents to agree to this? They take holidays pretty seriously.” Azzi takes a breath, “I told them I’d spend the entirety of Christmas break with Jon and Jose.” “Yeah? Until Paige comes over,” Colleen says under her breath. “Are you gonna help or no?” Azzi asks her. “Fine,” Colleen says as she settles back onto Azzi’s bed. 

Azzi stands under the awning of their dorm building as Paige pulls the car up. Its cold Connecticut morning and the snow is falling in thick and heavy flakes. After what seems like a very cold forever, Paige pulls around and parks. Hopping out of her car, she goes around to open the trunk. As her hand lands on Azzi’s suitcase, she’s met with resistance. Azzi tugs the suitcase from Paige’s hands, “I can put it in myself y’know.” Paige gives her a confused look as Azzi doesn’t pay her any mind, instead going around to get in the passenger’s seat. “I turned the heated seat on for you, I know you like that,” Paige says, as Azzi stares out the window. 

Azzi doesn’t want to be mad. She would be thrilled to be going to spend Thanksgiving with her girlfriend’s family. But that wasn’t the case. She was going to act as a buffer between her best-friend-turned-friends-with-benefits-in-hopes-of-them-being-together-one-day-in-the-future-but-one-of-them-pretty-much-ruined-that-after-acting-like-what-they-had-was-not-worth-actually-pursuing-and-they-are-just-casually-hooking-up-otherwise-known-as-a-situationship and her mother, who albeit is caring but struggles to connect with her daughter. To make matters even worse, Paige’s mom doesn’t know they’ve ever been anything beyond friends. She figured if Paige could bring her best friend, it would make Montana a little less boring. 

After an uncomfortably quiet ride, which luckily Paige just chalked up to Azzi being tired, they arrived at the airport. Paige watched in the mirror as Azzi grabbed both bags and mumbled something under her breath before she closed the trunk and gave Paige the go-ahead to go park. After finding a parking spot Paige noticed that Azzi had forgotten her unicorn neck pillow on the seat. She reached over and grabbed it. It’s the neck pillow she’s had since high school. Paige had seen it on more flights and bus rides than she could count. And on each on of those flights and bus rides without fail Paige had talked Azzi’s ear off as much as she would let her. Even though Azzi would tell Paige to just shut up and close her eyes, she never stopped listening until Paige stopped talking. She was such a good best friend. After enough reminiscing, Paige grabs the pillow and reaches for the car door. 

Azzi sits near the airport entrance as she toys with the tags on Paige’s bag. Azzi thought having multiple tags on her suitcase was a little redundant, but as she flipped through the tags she stopped at the one with the Hopkins High School logo on the back. It still had Paige’s old Minnesota address. Azzi reminisced on the times that she had gone to Minnesota to visit her, or the times she had traveled to see Paige play for Hopkins. Azzi started to look at the tag with the UConn logo on it, the address almost identical to hers. Only the room number differed. Azzi thought to herself for a moment, what it would be like to finally live together. Would their bedding be pink or purple, or maybe they’d mutually agree on a different color or a mix of the two? It was dumb, Azzi thought, it wasn’t worth wasting her time thinking about. You wouldn’t know how stupid she finds it, if you knew how much she thought about all the hypotheticals in her in Paige’s lives; all of the what ifs, all of the far-off futures, all of the daydreams, and delusions. Azzi flipped to the deep purple tag, it listed her Maryland address. She remembers Paige’s face when she told her that she finally wouldn’t live so far away. She could barely contain her excitement. Finally, Azzi flipped over a pinkish-purple tag, listing Azzi’s house under the address. It was from when Paige stayed with her and her family during covid. She couldn’t help but feel a little sentimental over all the milestones she’s been through with Paige. 

“Stalking me or something?” Paige laughed as Azzi looked up at her like a deer in headlights, “you, uh, forgot this in the car,” Paige says as she hands Azzi the neck pillow. “Thanks,” Azzi shortly responds. Azzi feels caught in the act, wondering how long Paige saw her looking at the different tags she had on her bag while Paige wonders if Azzi can feel that Paige held onto the neck pillow a little longer than she should’ve and reminisced over all the places they’ve been together.

“You know, flying back from Argentina was probably the best flight I’ve been on. To this day,” Paige admits. “Really?” Azzi looks at her. “Yeah, a hundred percent. I’d do a twelve-hour flight with you any day, over a one-hour flight with anyone else. Azzi starts to wonder how bad it would be if she opened up an emergency exit would be, like who says that???? A few beats too late, Azzi responds, “Me too.” As the captain prepares the cabin for take off Paige looks nervously at Azzi, “you know I’m still scared of take off right?” “Still?” Azzi looks at her? “Yeah, still,” Paige responds. Azzi uncrosses her previously crossed arms as she allows Paige to slink her hand under her own and intertwine their fingers.

Paige squeezes her hand as they take off. Azzi squeezes it back as a sign of reassurance. Even as they finally reach their cruising altitude Paige doesn’t remove her hand. As the flight goes on Azzi feels Paige’s hand go limp as she drifts off to sleep. Their fingers intertwined until they touched down in Montana, Azzi couldn’t make up her mind if this trip would be her saving grace or her biggest regret. 

[thoseboysinblue]

Mistletoe Magic

Gif by @lovelynikol16

Christian Pulisic x reader

You find yourself caught under the mistletoe with Christian.

Wordcount: 1500+

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing

You wander up to the door of the house marked by the address Christian sent you earlier. Adjusting your hair slightly and taking a deep breath, you knock on the door and wait for someone to answer.

"Hey you, I'm glad you could make it," Christian engulfs you in a hug, placing a light kiss to your cheek. He accepts the beer and small bag of snacks you brought as a thank you for the invitation.

"Thank you for inviting me," you smile at him as you remove your coat and hang it in the small closet in the entryway of his house.

"I would've invited you to stay if I had known you were going to be in Milan," he narrows his eyes at you.

"It was kind of a last minute change of plans, and I didn't want to impose," you offer him a smile.

"You're never imposing, you know you're always welcome to stay anytime, y/n," he says as he leads you into the kitchen, you noticing the traditional Christmas decor scattered around.

Your job as a travel blogger means that you hop around quite a bit. You'd stayed with Christian several times in London since it was a good starting out point for many of your adventures, but you haven't visited him in Italy until now.

"So what brings you to Italy for the holidays?" he asks, pouring you a glass of wine while he opens a beer.

"I'm writing something on Christmas markets," you shrug at him, "I wasn't supposed to come here actually, but needed to make some alterations due to a few things, so here I am."

"Well, you know I'm always glad to see you," he smiles, a genuine smile.

Your friendship with Christian started several years ago, right after his move to Chelsea. You both happened to be at the same event one evening in London and found a small bit of comfort in having someone from "home" close by.

You often spent time with him when he was home during the summers, blocking off a week or so from your travels to be able to visit him. You had become friends with several of his friends and things were just easy between you.

You both took a bit of heat for the natural flirtation that seemed to flow back and forth, but never had it gone beyond that. You were friends with him, not someone he grew up with, but someone who had earned his trust over a period of time and vice versa.

"I think you invited me here early because you wanted someone to do the dirty work for you," you chuckle as you arrange various platters of food for the twenty or so guests he had invited over for a small holiday gathering.

"We might have time for some actual dirty work," he quips at you as he glances at the time on his watch.

"Aww, the Italian model scene not to your taste?" you grin as you chunk an grape at him which he somehow manages to catch in his mouth.

"Honestly, I haven't had much time for all that," he shrugs, "been trying to get settled in here and really trying to stay focused right now."

"Well, you seem to be settling in just fine," you smile softly at him as you finish the last tray.

He turns on some Christmas music and grabs your hand and twirls you around a couple of times, both of you laughing as you dance and sing along.

As the other guests start to arrive, Christian introduces you to some of his new teammates as well as their significant others. You also greet his former Chelsea teammates you had met previously as well as his international teammates, a couple of them having made the trip from Turin for the party.

"It's good to see you," Weston grins as he gives you a warm hug.

"Yeah, you too, Wes," you roll your eyes at the mischevious look on his face.

"He made a move yet?" he nods towards Christian who keeps glancing over to you, curious as to what his friend could possibly be saying that has you looking slightly flustered.

"What? No! He would never, you know we aren't like that, at all," you shake your head.

"You sure? I mean, I've never seen two people flirt as relentlessly as you guys do and never take it any further," he narrows his eyes at you.

"Well, that's just how we are, harmless flirtation, that's it," you offer him a beer.

"You spending the holidays here with him though?" he continues pressing you.

"I'm in Milan, writing for my blog, he didn't even know I was here until he saw my story yesterday. I have my own hotel, so no, I'm not 'spending the holidays with him'," you use air quotes to mimic his previous statement.

"That's a shame, I'm sure he'd love unwrapping you as a gift on Christmas morning," he chuckles as you swat at him.

You continue chatting with people as the night carries on, engaging in a few drinking games and you and Christian carrying on your usual flirtatious banter.

You head to the bathroom and when you return, everyone has moved from the kitchen and dining area over to the living room to continue playing party games.

Christian is leaning in the doorway between his living room and kitchen, looking at his phone when you approach him and wrap your arms around his waist and tuck yourself under his arm as he naturally moves to drape it over your shoulder.

"This has been a good party, Chris," you smile up at him, "I've had fun getting to know everyone and catching up with some of the others."

"It has been fun, hasn't it?" he smiles back at you, "I hope Wes hasn't given you too much grief."

"Oh, I can handle him, you don't have to worry about that," you shake your head.

"Oh, I know, if anyone can take him down a notch or two, it's you," he chuckles.

"Hey, you two," you hear Wes shout over everyone, "look up," he grins.

The two of you look up simultaneously, before your eyes widen and meet with Christian's.

"Fuck, I forgot I put that there," he stares at you, suddenly unsure of what he should do.

"Well, I'm pretty sure it's bad luck if you are caught under the mistletoe and don't kiss, so..." you trail off.

"Yeah, I think so too, and I mean, we don't want bad luck following us around do we?" his eyes flick from your eyes down to your lips and back to your eyes.

"But we don't have to, if you don't want to, y/n, I don't want to force you into anything," he looks at you sincerely.

"It's just a kiss under the mistletoe, Christian," you smile softly at him as you move your hands around the back of his neck and inch closer to him.

"It's probably full of nargles, anyways," you grin as he closes the distance and you hear him chuckle under his breath.

"You sure?" he asks one more time, his lips mere millimeters from yours.

You nod and close your eyes, pressing your fingers into the back of his neck and encouraging him to close the gap.

His lips brush against yours softly and timidly, before he slides his hand up to cup your jaw and pull you into him a bit further. You kiss him back, slightly surprised at the immediate butterflies that erupt in your stomach.

The kiss lasts a few more moments before you both pull away and smile shyly at one another.

"About damn time," Wes whistles at you.

It suddenly hits you what just happened, Christian kissed you, albeit somewhat forced by holiday superstition, but he still kissed you, and you kissed him. And you didn't expect to like it as much as you did.

You quickly rush down the hallway and into the first room you find, shutting the door behind you, needing a few minutes to get a grip on everything.

You lean with your back against the door as you take a few deep breaths, closing your eyes and calming yourself before you get too overwhelmed.

You hear a soft knock at the door, "y/n, are you in there," you hear Christian ask quietly.

You turn and open the door, letting him in before quickly closing it behind him.

"Are you ok?" he looks at you, his eyes full of concern, as he moves to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Yes, no, I don't know," you sigh, leaning into his touch as he cups his hand along your jaw.

"It wasn't supposed to feel like that when you kissed me," you breathe out, "I wasn't supposed to feel anything, it was supposed to be a kiss between friends under the mistletoe, no big deal."

"It wasn't supposed to feel like what?" he asks quietly. "Wasn't supposed to feel like butterflies and fireworks and like your insides were suddenly on fire?"

You look up at him, curious to know if he was telling you he'd had the same unexpected reaction.

"Because, that's what I felt a few minutes ago, and I'm kind of hoping you felt it too," he says leaning his forehead against yours.

"Yes, I felt it too," you close your eyes.

"Want to see if that was just a one time thing?" he whispers against your lips, smiling when you pull him closer to you and connect your lips back to his.

This kiss is different from the first, it's not shy nor timid, it is full of certainty and desire. He kisses you like you are the oxygen he needs to breathe. He runs his tongue along the seam of your lips, silently asking for entrance, and moans softly into your mouth when you allow his tongue to press against yours.

You can't deny he's a good kisser as you sink further into one another, tangling your fingers into the hairs at the nape of his neck, and damn it, he knows what he's doing with his tongue. You have to stop your thoughts from running away with themselves as the two of you allow your hands to roam over one another's bodies, gripping each other as closely as you can.

You pull away from one another breathless and dizzy, a grin spreading on both of your faces.

"Definitely not a one time thing," he chuckles pecking you on the lips again.

"No, I don't think so either," you shake your head.

"So what now?" you ask him, realizing this has just changed everything between you.

"Now, I think we have to go back to the party," he sighs, "but I want you to stay later so we can talk."

"Ok," you nod.

"Would you consider staying the night?" he grins cheekily at you.

"I might, but don't get too far ahead of yourself," you grin back at him.

"No, no, that's not what I meant. I mean I would like for you to stay, and talk, and keep kissing me like that, but we don't have to do anything else until we figure things out," he says quietly, placing another delicate kiss to your lips.

"I think I can handle that," you lean your head against his chest, listening to the way his heart is pounding.

"Ok, so let's figure out a polite way to kick everyone out," he chuckles kissing you one more time before opening the door and ushering you back towards the other guests.

Tag List:

@chilwellspulisic @neverinadream @pulisicsgirl @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @lunamelona @tall-tanned-tattoo @lizzypotter14 @xjval @notsoattractivearenti @bracedes @landoslover

[arliedraws]

In the books, Sirius's devotion to Harry is of course very deep, but it never translates to something physical. He only shakes Harry's end when he leaves his bedside in book 4, and in book 5 there is something resembling a hug, like twice...? As a dog he stood up his hind legs and front paws on harry's shoulders and a half hug after Christmas. Idk it sort of drives me crazy, because in the movies Harry and Sirius are so affectionate! That first hug when Harry arrives in Grimmauld!! Gary and Dan had an amazing chemistry that other actors were jealous of, they mirrored the book characters, so it palpable on screen, the few scenes Gary is in at all at least.

So, what do you make of this? Do you in musing for art imagine a more affectionate relationship between Harry and Sirius? Maybe if Sirius survived the war? Molly's hug in book 4 was a poignant moment but imo that should have been a moment between Sirius and Harry. Sirius already says he expected something catastrophic to happen to Harry in the third task, that's what he stutters when Harry comes in with Dumblebore. So he is literally afraid of his godsons life and it still shows of course, Sirius staying at Harry's side was very beautifully written, like the devotion is clear, but I am foaming at the mouth for more affection between them in canon? Platonic, not shipping. So between the movies and the books Im just kinda torn what's better

It's more a rant than an ask, sorry lol, but if you have any input I'd he so stoked to read it. Not many peeps in the fandom even give Sirius and Harry any time of day, nvrmind even understand what they had (which also drives me kinda nuts but ok)

Ohhhh, anon, you’ve come to the right spot! Mostly because I love them. I would say that 80% of my fandom interest is just Sirius being a dad to Harry.

To your question, I don’t think one is better than the other. Each has their purpose. Let me share my thoughts:

1. I am soft for movie Sirius and Harry’s affectionate touching. However. The dynamics of their relationship were NOT mirrored from the books, which…is fine. Honestly, I just don’t think it was a priority for the filmmakers. This particular bit doesn’t bother me because the movies are not supposed to replace the source material—they are an interpretation. To me, watching the movies is like reading fic—fun to watch but not canon. Also, the filmmakers removed so much of their relationship in GoF that they HAD to make Sirius and Harry physically affectionate in order for movie audiences to see what losing Sirius would mean to Harry. Their complexity is completely unexplored in the films, and they had to do SOMETHING to get the audience to feel sad when Sirius died. This started in PoA when they really downplayed the context of their relationship. (Lol, see my rant on PoA. I really don’t like that movie hahahahaha.)

2. In the books, Harry and Sirius are not physically affectionate with each other despite their intense love for each other, and I think this is an effective way to show characterization. As I tell my students, this might have been intentional by the author, but it could have been an instinct that she followed (what feels right for the characters).

Here’s what I think: both are so terrified of losing the other that they won’t allow themselves to get too close, and, crucially, they both fear showing vulnerability. Touching someone and reaching out for a hug or comfort is an extremely vulnerable thing to do. If you reach out for a hug, you are showing your true feelings. To be rejected physically is sometimes more devastating than someone telling you to just “go away.” It’s a sign of trust to touch someone—you are trusting that they feel the same way about you, and you are trusting that they won’t pull away. Both Sirius and Harry understand rejection, and both avoid it. How do you avoid rejection? You distance yourself.

I’ll put the rest under a cut because I think this might get long…

Sirius and Harry, for all that they love each other, fall out of trusting each other by OotP. Part of this is trauma, but it is also miscommunication. Harry is worried that Sirius will do something stupid—either out of concern for Harry or because he wants to get out of number 12–but he’s worried he’ll lose Sirius. So by withholding affection (which I’m not sure if he knows how to give physically), Harry distances himself from Sirius which will, theoretically, keep Sirius safe (of course, it backfires). Sirius is…you know…going through stuff in OotP. He is already vulnerable—he perceives himself as being emasculated because he’s not allowed to leave his childhood home and he’s relegated to performing ‘uninteresting, domestic work’, and he must be inactive when he’s a man OF action.

When it comes to Goblet of Fire and the odd handshake… I think Sirius is reeeeeally holding back. Harry does NOT want him to go, and Sirius knows this. (Why DOES Dumbledore send him away? Literally anyone else could have “alerted the old crowd” and NOT the convicted murderer. This is clearly the author’s excuse to get Sirius away from Harry—and, I’ve spoken to this before, Sirius is too much of a miracle character—too smart, too loyal, too loving to support the story that the author wanted to tell.) Sirius, if he had stayed, would have been the emotional support that Harry needed. So if Sirius holds Harry, what if Harry doesn’t let go? What if Sirius himself can’t let go? A handshake will have to do.

So Sirius leaves Harry with that bizarre handshake. That Sirius leaves at all damages their relationship—it could have been repaired with time (if they’d been allowed time), but this moment makes Harry realize that he cannot rely on anyone, not even Sirius. This leaves Harry to be isolated in OotP, and it leaves him to feel like he cannot trust anyone. I’m not blaming Sirius for leaving, but I believe this action causes a rift between them that carries into the next book.

My point is, I HATE that they don’t touch but it is very important that they don’t, at least when it comes to the story that the author wanted to tell. I think it was the right move when we look at the story as a whole. Do I like it? NO! But it’s interesting, and it DOES feel right for them. Is it devastating? Yes!!!!!!!

TL;DR: I don’t think either interpretation is necessarily better than the other, but they both have their purpose. Both are effective!

Touch is…huge in HP. Consider Voldemort’s “I can touch him now” and causing Harry pain. Touch is a privilege, and to be touched without permission is a violation. Harry kills someone by touching them. He is only touched by his family when Dudley beats him up or he gets shoved in his cupboard.

Weirdly, one of my absolutely favorite moments when Sirius and Harry touch is in PoA when the Dementors are closing in on Sirius, Harry, and Hermione, and Harry, as he’s about to faint, reaches out to grab an unconscious Sirius by the arm, thinking something along the lines of “the dementors weren’t going to take him” and such. And this is about two seconds after Harry has accepted that Sirius is telling the truth! Harry physically tethers Sirius to him—this touch-starved teen reaches out to this man who is now everything to him, who is now his only real family, willing to risk death (or worse) to keep it. BUT THEY JUST MET!!!!! Devastating!!!

Also…another thought: the first time Sirius and Harry touch is the first time Sirius has been touched as a human in twelve years. And Harry is beating the absolute shit out of him…and then Sirius nearly strangles him…

Also, also, not to like…self-promote, but if you want some Sirius & Harry family feelings and a wee bit of affectionate touching, I wrote a one-shot where they talk about their feelings in OotP.

Anyway, this got longer than I thought. Thank you for the prompt!!

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #22] Listening to Jimin

warnings: new years eve is upon us and you know what that means!!!!! the arrival of the red witch!!! all three of jungkook girlies in one room!! lucky him!!!! the real question is which one is he kissing once the clock strikes 12?? heheheh

soundtrack: dont do that - leellamarz, toil

wc: 12.8k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

There are three fundamental rules to remember when dealing with a break-up, or so Jimin says.

The first is to always wear black.

"You never know what to expect," he says - though Jeongguk isn't sure about the validity of such a claim.

With every girl he's ever dated, he always anticipated the end, and always knew exactly how it would play out. He doesn't put this down to intuition, but rather to the fact he actually takes the time to get to know the girls he's dating.

Jimin, on the other hand, fails to consider such things. It's not that he doesn't get to know the girls he dates. He just doesn't really get how girls work.

"Black is your safest bet," he doubles down when he's met with a raised eyebrow from his housemate over a late breakfast a few days after Christmas.

Both home from visiting family, it had been Jimin who breached the subject of Jiyeong, knowing that Jeongguk tended to try and keep his problems tucked away, nice and neat.

"She cries? Mascara won't show. She throws a drink on you? Won't show. It's a win-win."

In all likelihood, he'll wear black regardless, but it's something to consider, at least.

Is he supposed to prepare a breakup outfit? No, surely not, he decides with a small shake of his head that goes unnoticed by Jimin.

"Alright then, hit me with rule number two."

Jimin grins as he sinks further into the sofa, pleased that Jeongguk is actually listening to him. As far as he's concerned, he has breaking hearts down to a fine art.

"Never - under any circumstances - send a 'we need to talk' text."

"But-"

"Never," he doubles down. "A we need to talk text means one thing and one thing only - she'll see what's coming from a mile away, and you need this to be a sting operation."

"Sorry?"

"Forgiven," he smirks, in typical Jimin fashion. "Nah, but seriously. If she catches wind of what you're gonna do, she'll get in there first. I've known girls like her, and I promise you - she'll end things before you get the chance."

"So?" Jeongguk asks as he gets to work slicing up the fruit that's been in the fridge for a little too long. It's not as pretty as it once was, but it needs eating, and there's nothing he likes more than starting the new year with a tidy and organised house.

"So?" he mimics, eyes on the television where he's watching a talk show he doesn't really care for. "My God , Jeongguk. Better to be the dumper than the dumpee."

Jeongguk thinks Jimin would be great on a talk show; always saying shit that holds no merit but with enough confidence, you'd be forgiven for thinking he was an expert.

"I don't think either is preferable," Jeongguk tells him - and he means it.

Ending things with Jiyeong is a necessity at this point. Not because of you, or residual feelings for Hayun, or anything like that - but for the fact he absolutely cannot stand her after she's had a few drinks.

She's pleasant, ever so nice, ever eager to please when she's sober, but the second a little tequila touches her lips? It's like another story.

Alcohol isn't for everyone. Working in a bar, Jeongguk has grown to learn this. He doesn't think she drinks too much - within a reasonable amount for any girl in her twenties - it's just that the chemicals in her brain seem to short-circuit. She gets jealous, and mean, and maybe it's his fault.

Maybe he could have been more attentive. Maybe his eyes do get distracted by the stars a little too often.

Sometimes, Jeongguk thinks it's okay; that maybe if he shifts her focus away from nights out and drinks over dinner, that it could work. Remove alcohol from the situation and it would be fine.

Thing is, his lifestyle is so heavily focused around it; Dionysus, nights out with the boys, his hopes for the future and the restaurant he so badly wants to open. It's always gonna be a factor of his future. Always gonna be a part of his lifestyle.

He doesn't want to argue for the rest of his life.

Doesn't want to attend Tae's art shows and worry that the free prosecco will end in a row over whether or not he spent enough time looking at her instead of the art.

Doesn't want to raise his glass for a toast at his wedding, only to go to bed without consummating the marriage because his new wife is in a huff over the hors d'oeuvres he'd insisted on during the planning stages of the big day.

Jeongguk works in difinitives. Thinks that dating is a test to see if you're compatible for long-term companionship. Knows that he and Jiyeong aren't . Doesn't wanna waste his time, nor hers.

"Well, no," Jimin admits as Jeongguk withdraws from his thoughts. "But in a lose-lose situation? Better to not be the biggest loser."

If he was being honest, Jimin would tell Jeongguk that he doesn't think this is a lose-lose situation at all. In fact, he thinks it's the best decision Jeongguk's made in a long time.

Jeongguk isn't so sure. Hasn't told you yet. Is a bit scared to do so. Worries you'll be disappointed. Knows he can't carry things on with another girl for your benefit, though.

Plus, he kind of wants Jiyeong to see it coming. Would make it far easier if she's the one to end things. Would alleviate some of the mental pressure.

"Final rule?" Jeongguk eventually sighs, knowing that Jimin won't change his stubborn ways of thinking, so he may as well hear him out.

"This one is the real kicker," Jimin acknowledges.

It's also the one that proves he does have a heart beneath the casanova exterior.

"It's the two-week rule," he explains, muting the TV and turning his body to face Jeongguk. He's still chopping up strawberries, using the board that suddenly appeared out of nowhere after Christmas. Jimin hasn't asked about it. Knows Yoongi made it, but that's all. "Birthdays, Christmas - big dates, you know the type. The week before and the week after them? You can't end it."

Jeongguk stops chopping. Looks up at Jimin. There's no smile on his face, just a little anguish in his round eyes, as if he's just found out Santa isn't real.

"What?" Jimin retorts. "That's the one I would have thought you already knew. It's common sense. You can't end things so close to a big event - especially if there's gift-giving involved."

"But-"

"Nope. It's a rule. New Year's counts, by the way," Jimin makes sure to add. "You gotta stick it out until the tail-end of January."

"According to who?"

"According to everyone who's ever had a relationship."

"But-"

"Really? This is the rule you're gonna argue against most? C'mon, Gguk."

The reality of the matter is that Jeongguk doesn't want to have to spend New Year's faking a smile and pretending like everything is fine, when it really feels like his head will implode at any given moment.

He glances over to the whiteboard by their fridge, which has a calendar marked out on it. It includes their schedules - Jeongguk's shifts, Tae's shows, Jimin's visits home, dinners at the Min's. Their lives are mapped out an enamel-coated sheet of steel, wiped away with a dry cloth every time the month changes.

In a couple of days, it will be time to start fresh again.

Jimin's been off work since Christmas eve, and won't be back in the office until the New Year.

Shift work makes Jeongguk's schedule a lot less predictable - but December 31st has been reserved for months now. As soon as December hit, Jimin had filled the entire space with bubble writing and explosive clouds. It's going to be big. It always is. His favourite night of the year.

Which is why, when he arrives home on the morning of New Year's Eve, snacks and drinks in hand for pregaming, he's confused that Jeongguk is nowhere to be seen.

There's been a change to the board, though.

DEC 31JK - work 6-12

~~~

They say that things tend to happen in threes, and - much like Jimin's rules for a break up - Yeonjun's already made three bets with Jeongguk by the time it hits 8PM on New Year's Eve.

The first? That he'll still be able to get a midnight kiss, even though he's behind the bar tonight.

"Don't even think about it," Jeongguk had warned, clear in his rules about not flirting with the punters too much - but Yeonjun is an insolent brat at the best of times.

He's also spent the last month or so sweet-talking Julia, a foreign exchange student who had picked up a couple of shifts a week to help tide her through, and that's where he's placing his bets.

Normally, Jeongguk would have noticed a flirtationship blossoming right beneath his nose. He's been so distracted lately, Yeonjun's been able to cross 'shag at work' off his bucket list without Jeongguk even suspecting a thing.

Even Jeongguk hasn't fucked anyone at work.

Yet .

Hair as blue as the off-brand curacao he's decanting into the 'real' bottles, Yeonjun is just as much of a menace as he always has been.

The second bet?

That Yeonjun can eat an entire lemon. Peel it, section it, eat it - like an orange or a clementine.

Jeongguk thinks he's joking - but Yeonjun's spunked away all of his money over the holidays, and needs to make up for it. Wins himself 50,000 won for that one. Also nearly has him head-first over the toilet, but that's neither here nor there.

The third and final bet?

Well, it's proven right at quarter past ten that evening.

Jeongguk is behind the bar, obscured by the club lights as the DJ plays an old song he's forgotten the name of. Knows all the words, but can't place it. Is so busy trying to figure it out, that he almost doesn't notice you arrive - but how can he not?

The lights quite literally reflect from you; your dress, your eyes, the glitter that adorns your skin. You've always been a disco ball personified, but never more so than right now.

You've not noticed him yet, too busy caught up in conversation with Danbi and Hoseok to pay him any attention. You're laughing, head thrown back, hand clutching onto Hoseok's shoulder to stop yourself from falling. Jeongguk can't hear your laugh, but he knows what it sounds like. Finds himself smiling, too.

"That'll be another 10,000," Yeonjun calls over to Jeongguk, and is met with a curt 'fuck off'.

A bet is a bet. Yeonjun is getting that 10,000, because he's right.

You do look more like a disco ball than ever before, just like Yeonjun prophesied you would.

Jeongguk always knew you would. It's why he rejected Yeonjun's first attempt at the bet - there was no way he'd willingly lose 50,000. Re-bet him at a much more sensible 10,000.

Unaware of the bet, and already a little too tipsy for your own good, you know that you've really outdone yourself. Know that if Seokjin happened to be at Dionysus - which he won't be - that he'd run for the hills.

Bleached hair growing out, glitter on every inch of your skin, dress as sparkly as the fireworks due to go off when the clocks strike twelve, you are everything he would have hated - which is exactly how you'd like to start the new year.

Jeongguk's grinning as you approach the bar. He's got a plastic cup in one hand, and the soft drink gun pouring from the other. Diet coke clouds into a puddle of vodka for some punter that Jeongguk barely gives a second thought to. He glances over to you, smile prevailing, cheeks almost a little pink, before his attention diverts back to the customer.

There are half a dozen people to serve before Jeongguk can get to you. Fairness is important, after all. Can't let you think you get priority over everyone else just 'cause you made him cum a couple of times. He doesn't stop smiling, mind you. Feels your gaze, and laughs to himself a little. Just can't help it.

When he finally makes time for you, you know you don't have long. It's busy.

He shouldn't be behind the bar.

He should be out having fun with you instead, you think. Or the boys. It doesn't matter. All that matters is him having a good time, regardless of who he's with.

"Didn't see you there," he tells you with a casual arrogance that makes your tipsy tummy feel all silly and ticklish. "Thought you were a disco ball for a moment."

He looks pretty today, hair tousled in that way he always does when he can't be bothered to style it properly. He's wearing a black button-up, but has left the top three of four buttons open. The top of his chest peeks out, chains layered and sitting handsomely against his skin. You're cursed with the knowledge of what he looks like without a shirt on, and a brain that doesn't know how to stop thinking about it.

It's at this point you realise it's going to be one of those nights.

You're only a few drinks in and already you're thinking that you'd really like to end your night with an orgasm - and unfortunately for you, you're well aware of how competently Jeongguk can give them.

You know he's off the cards as far as that's concerned, but for a harmless flirt? Well, what are friends for, if not that?

"Oh, really?" You beam, elbows resting on the bar, leaning a little closer so you can hear each other better. "Maybe I should take my dress off? Would that help?"

Jeongguk almost chokes on his own spit. You revel in the panic on his pretty features, all dainty and dewy and in need of a little glitter, you think.

He curses under his breath and shakes his head before he gets to work on a round of Purple Starfuckers, knowing that's what you'll be after.

"You're looking for trouble tonight, aren't you?" He asks as he sets the plastic shot glasses up in a row. Three. One for each of you.

"Not looking for anything," you assure him, and Jeongguk isn't sure why, but he's pleased with that answer. One less thing to worry about - though he does grab you a bottle of water from the cooler, regardless.

"Keep it with you," he says. "Big crowd tonight. It'll get hot."

You nod, eyes all doe-like and sincere in your thanks. Normally he just gives you a cup whenever you're at the bar, but he knows frequent visits will be harder tonight. Doesn't want you to be without water, should you need it.

He dips down again. Gets two more.

"Danbi and Hoseok," he simply states as he passes them over to you, indicating his intended recipients.

A mirrored backsplash runs behind the bar, allowing for you to watch Jeongguk as he works, even when his back is to you. There's a smile on his face, soft and serene, which drops a little when Yeonjun calls for his attention.

As Jeongguk turns, you notice a small spike of hair tufting up from the back of his head. It's most likely from falling asleep with damp hair after a shower, but it's so sweet you think you might be actually sick.

An enigma is Jeon Jeongguk; strong, brooding, broad. Tattoos etched into his skin, none of which you've asked the meaning of, and none of which he's elected to share. He's a mystery, all dark-eyed and chiselled-jawed, handsome without even trying.

And yet there are moments like these, when he's bright-eyed and bushy-tailed; jaw hanging a little lax, brows lifted to encourage Yeonjun to speak up. He's approachable; as kind as his smile is pretty.

He's everything your mother would tell you to stay away from, yet everything she'd encourage you to look for.

You suppose it doesn't really matter, either way. He's off the market, and you're not looking for any groceries, regardless.

There's no use squandering away one of your favourite friendships just because you have a pair of eyes and a functioning brain. Everyone thinks this way about Jeongguk. You're not the first person to notice he's a walking oxymoron - though when he lines up three extra shot glasses and begins to pour his signature drink into them, you realise he's arranged a dick-shaped formation, confirming that he might just be a moron, instead.

"Grow up," you laugh.

It's curious how sparkly his eyes always are in Dionysus. You think he has no right calling you a disco ball, when he's got a pair of them himself.

He checks his watch - silver, to match his chain - and sticks his bottom lip out as he reads it.

"Give it two hours and I'll be a year older," he teases, knowing full well the government abolished the traditional Korean ageing system, but not caring.

"Give it two hours and you'll still be an idiot," you reply, cheeks appled, glitter twinkling as lights reflect from the mirror and paint you in shades of magenta.

"Get your friends," he simply says, nodding towards them. "Drink up, or I'll make you pay for them, Disco Ball."

You don't mind it when he calls you this in the confines of Dionysus. It's nostalgic. Has you addressing him by the name you called him towards the start of your friendship, too.

"You spoil us, Star Fucker."

The irony of such a name isn't lost on Jeongguk. A Star Fucker is exactly what he is. Or was . Semantics.

He chooses not to reply to your statement, instead ushering you away. Tells you he's got people to serve. Says he's bored of you, but there's a smile etched into his cheeks as you wash down your shots. When you knock your head back, the glitter on your throat shines. It's decadant; irredescant.

And resting right where your collar bones meet, in the dainty little dip Jeongguk finds he likes a little too much?

A small silver bird.

He's so pleased to see it. Pleased , and a little shy and embarrassed that his affections for you are being displayed for all to see - but also a tiny bit smug, knowing that any fucker in the club who's drawn to your glitter will see evidence of him.

You aren't his, and he doesn't mean to think about it like that, but he likes that you've chosen to wear it. Likes that if somebody asks about it, you'll have to say, 'Oh, this? My friend Jeongguk got it for me.'

As you walk away, Jeongguk thinks you must leave a tail of fairy dust. He also thinks he needs his eyes testing whenever he's been looking at you for too long. Swears down he's got astigmatism.

You weave through the crowd with Danbi's hand in yours, and your other hand on Hoseok's waist, bottle of water tucked into your bag. As Hoseok guides you both to the centre of the crowd, you're reminded of why you like being absolutely shitfaced before dancing in clubs. The floor is sticky, and a non-descript soda-spirit drips down the back of your leg thanks to someone being too fucked to hold their cup properly.

It's part and parcel of places like these, though, and you know as soon as those Purple Starfuckers hit your system, you'll be grand. One would have done the trick, but two? Yeah, you'll be buzzing in a few minutes. S'why Jeongguk gave you two. Knows your tells. Could sense your levels.

You're lost to the night within a few minutes, but it doesn't stop Jeongguk from glancing to the crowd every now and again.

The boys arrive within ten minutes of you, and are the same rowdy gaggle they usually are. Yoongi is on his phone - checking that Seoyeon definitely will be at the club for midnight. She's getting ready with her girls. They'd opted for drinks at home for most of the night, unlike the boys who were mostly single and wanted to be out and about.

Jeongguk makes their usual orders and ignores the way they tease him for having to work. It was his choice. He did this to himself - and sure, he'd rather be on the other side of the bar, but when Jiyeong arrives a little while later, Jeongguk is glad for the distance.

He'd promised her and her friends a table to make up for his absence, and had allocated an extra bottle of prosecco to the table just to stop them from coming back to the bar. He doesn't wanna have to smile and pretend like everything is fine. She'll have expectations for the night, and he knows this.

There's lingering ache in his stomach; acknowledgement that he's doing something wrong.

He's not invested like he should be.

Jiyeong attracts attention. So do her friends. They dress similarly. Are indistinguishable from behind, save for a few highlights. Probably know the ins and outs of each other's lives. They likely know all about Jeongguk; the sort of cringe messages - the ones that are commonplace at the start of a relationship - that he's sent, the sweet gestures he's made, the genuine interest he's shown in her. They probably have an idea of what he looks like naked.

He does like her. Tells himself he does, at least. Smiles to himself when she jumps a little as the prosecco cork is popped by the table host. She has qualities he likes; determination, drive.

Perhaps if Jeongguk hadn't grown so soft, so insecure, they maybe things could have worked.

Before Hayun, he used to like fighting. Found it exciting. Had a girlfriend once that was much like Jiyeong. They'd bicker and argue until it ended up in the bedroom. A reset button would be pressed until the inevitable next time. He stayed with her for a year.

Occasionally, he'd argue with Hayun. When she was withdrawing, and he felt like he was losing grasp on a relationship that never really was a relationship, he'd cause a fight. Just something petty. Ask her why she'd been so avoidant, or question if she wanted to end things. Thought that maybe she'd work in the same way. Thought a reset button could be hit, and she'd want him again.

Sometimes it worked, but more often than not it didn't, which left Jeongguk in a constant sorry state of grovelling and trying to fix things. That never worked, either.

Sometimes Hayun would just fuck him to make him feel better.

Sometimes she'd ignore him for days on end.

The great unknown of which response he'd earn ended up cultivating a constant mess in Jeongguk's head. He was constantly seeking approval, constantly trying to be in her good books. He doesn't think she meant to make him this way, but it doesn't really matter.

He's never really let the scars settle. He picks at them until they bleed, and is surprised when they won't fully heal.

It's why he doesn't like arguing, now. It's why he avoids it as much as he can. It's why he sometimes lies. He's not malicious, just a product of the mistakes he's made in the past.

The memories fill his stomach like lead nails, weighing down on him, poisoning his bloodstream. They're so potent he almost thinks he can smell her perfume. She always wore the same one. He remembers it, still. It's french. Almondy. Expensive. Lingering. Unisex, so sometimes she'd spray him with it, too. Used to make him smile when he noticed it.

Makes him feel sick, now.

"Oi, boss man," Yeonjun calls over to Jeongguk as he's mindlessly making a couple vodka cokes. "Can we switch? She's asking for Star Fuckers."

Jeongguk laughs to himself. Why on earth you would have gone to Yeonjun is beyond him, but he kinda likes that you don't feel like you always have to go to him.

"Send her to my end," Jeongguk just calls back. His section is quieter than Yeonjun's at the moment, so it doesn't really make much difference. He's just served the last punters in the queue - two vodka cokes, no ice -and has time to kill. Get straight to it as you make your way up. Is surprised you're back so soon, but lines up 6 shot glasses regardless.

He turns to the back wall to grab the amaretto and is thinking about that perfume, again. Pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind, and thinks about the fact the DJ has definitely already played Stay, instead. He doesn't mind. Quite likes Justin Bieber. Demolishes the track in a noraebang.

Now that he's thinking about it, maybe that'd be a good way to end the night.

He goes to suggest it as he turns around - but the words catch on his tongue and dissolve into nothing; lyrics of a toxic relationship over a sickeningly cheerful melody drown out into silence, too.

"Hey," is all Jeongguk can muster.

A deer in headlights, eyes wide and bright, he isn't really sure what to do. His skin feels hot and prickly, but he's cemented in place. Can't escape. Can just stand, and stare.

And when Hayun stares back, a tiny smile fracturing on her red lips, Jeongguk thinks he'd quite like to die.

"Hey," she replies so quietly he can't hear her voice. The way her lips move - oh, it's just the same as it always was - has him entranced. She raises a thick, feathery brow as if to question his awkwardness. Her smile grows. "I'm not Medusa, buddy. You don't have to turn to stone."

Buddy .

God, it's like she driving those pretty red nails of hers straight through his heart. They match her lips. Perfect, and red, and poised to kill.

Jeongguk shakes himself together. Mentally, not physically.

In fact, physically, he's smooth as a smirk settles on his lips. It's all performative, but he learned to play the role so well. Has perfected it by this point.

"Sure about that?" Jeongguk says as he places the cocktail shaker down on the ledge behind the bar. "You're ugly enough to be her, buddy."

"Ouch," she laughs. Jeongguk thinks his ears are bleeding. "Back in town for all of five minutes and you're already making me wanna leave."

"Don't be a baby," he grins, convinced that if he acts normal, then maybe things will be normal. "You wouldn't have asked for Star Fuckers if you weren't looking for a little trouble."

There's a twinge of guilt panging in his stomach. He used a near identical line on you earlier.

She concedes, unaware of this. Unaware of you. Bites down on that ruby-red bottom lip of hers that Jeongguk used to know so well. "Yeah. You're right about one thing, buddy. Congrats."

"I'm right about everything," he protests.

The conversation is so easy. Just like it always was when things were good. She'd order his signature drink, and he'd watch on as she spent her night in a state of bliss with their friends until he could clock off and join them. She'd call him buddy, and he'd call her it right back, both knowing she'd end up in his bed at the end of the night. An in-joke, just for them.

When she looks at him like this - eyes sultry, a smokey eye framing them so effortlessly it's as if she was born with a kohl pencil in hand - he forgets how she would use the affectionate joke against him.

'We're just friends. I don't know why you're getting so emotional about this. I don't have to explain myself to you, buddy .'

But of course he has. Has wiped it from his memory, because it's far nicer to romanticise her than it is to demonise her.

"Didn't know you'd be back," he says as he pours her shot, trying to look ambivalent about it all.

She's toying with her card against the bar, her bare shoulders a stark reminder of what he used to have. Last time she was in Dionysus, Jeongguk didn't yet have a tab. Every drink was paid for on the spot. It's been so long since that was the case. Jeongguk finds that the stark reminder of how much time has passed makes his heart wilt a little bit. Has it really been that long?

"Nor did I," she shrugs, and Jeongguk tries to ignore the way her collarbones move so gracefully, her hair draping over them like a thin curtain obscuring something he once adored. "Last minute change of plans. Haven't seen the girls in a while, so-"

"Right," he nods. "The girls."

"And the boys," she offers him an inch, knowing full well he'll take a mile. Decides to just give it to him anyway. "And you. Missed my favourite bartender."

Favourite .

The word wraps itself around Jeongguk like satin ribbon, so soft and delicately smooth. Trails up around the back of his head, and covers his eyes; blinds him to anything other than her.

He wants to ask about her boyfriend. Doesn't wanna learn that he's over by the boys, engaging in drunken bonding with his friends. Chooses not to bring him up.

"Yeonjun?" Jeongguk just deflects.

Hayun nods. "Suppose so, considering I hear you've had a promotion? Bar manager, now?"

It's comforting, in a way, knowing that she acknowledges how much has changed. How much he's changed. The wreck of a man she left isn't the same man she's returning to. He's smug in this knowledge, and it prevails in the way he almost flirts .

"Ah, so you've been keeping tabs," he teases, to which she just rolls her eyes. "Sound a little obsessed, buddy."

Hayun holds back a smile. Her tongue rests between her teeth. There's so much she could say - but instead, she chooses to down her shot instead.

Jeongguk pours her another.

She knocks that back, too.

"Not with you," she eventually says. "With these?" She lifts the empty shot glass. "Yes."

The heaviness in Jeongguk's chest is obscured by the adrenaline that's rushing through his system.

The last time he'd seen Hayun, he'd been the one who'd had a few too many Star Fuckers. Ended his night slumped against his kitchen island, crying into his takeout pizza box.

It had been her last night out before moving up to Seoul. A long time coming, he'd always known that it was gonna happen eventually, but he still wasn't ready for when the time came.

'I don't know how I'm gonna be okay without you,' he'd admitted a little too candidly.

'You'll figure it out,' she had said. 'You always do, buddy.'

And she was right. These days, it feels like he has somewhat of a grasp on his life - one that he's only just been able to claw back from her. He pretends that you aren't the reason why.

So imposing is Hayun's presence, Jeongguk doesn't notice Jiyeong trying to catch his gaze from her table. Doesn't notice the frown on her face as she watches Jeongguk's conversation unfold. Doesn't notice as she walks to the bar - and truth be told, barely notices when she comes to stand by Hayun.

But Jiyeong isn't the kind of girl to go unnoticed. It's just not who she is - and she'll be damned if she's ignored .

"Hey, honey," she greets, sickly sweet, just like the moniker she's never called him before this very moment.

Jeongguk's focus is on her immediately. Gaze fervent, he's like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Heart in his throat, it's a miracle that he manages to look as poised as he does.

"Ji," he smiles. Is kind as he addresses her. "You good?"

She nods, pleased by the way he ended his conversation for her. A priority is what Jiyeong thinks she should be, and will only be happy when she's treated as such. It's not an unreasonable desire, he thinks.

Hands resting on the bar, Jeongguk doesn't really realise how clammy they are until Jiyeong reaches over to toy with one of them.

Jeongguk glances over to Hayun. It's a split second, but enough to see her eyes are on Jiyeong's hands, watching the way they trail up Jeongguk's tattooed wrist.

Hayun decides rather quickly that Jiyeong is a bitch pissing on her territory. Doesn't take too kindly to it.

"All good," Jiyeong smiles, ignoring Hayun. "Wondered if you were taking your break soon?"

"Hey, buddy," Hayun interrupts, not looking at Jiyeong, but at Jeongguk. He feels like an elastic band being stretched to its breaking point. "I'm gonna go catch up with the guys. I'll see you later, yeah?"

Jeongguk's tummy squirms. Hayun inserting herself into 'the guys' is deliberate, and he damn well knows it.

"Oh?" Jiyeong exclaims, feigning ignorance to the fact Hayun had been conversing with Jeongguk. "You know each other? Sorry, I should have introduced myself!"

She holds out her hand for Hayun to shake, but it's met with a contemptuous look and a glance towards Jeongguk as if to question his choices. She knows exactly what Jiyeong is doing. Has done it herself a handful of times before.

Also thinks it's laughable, because she stuck her flag in Jeongguk a long fuckin' time ago, and she's almost positive it's still there. As far as she's concerned, this new girl? She's just visiting.

"Jiyeong," she continues regardless, all smiles. The hand that's still toying with Jeongguk's wrist gets a little scratchy. She wants him to hold it. He knows this. Isn't sure what the right move is. Doesn't know who he'd rather piss off, but decides he likes Jiyeong so much more when she isn't mad at him. She smiles as he opens his palm for her. "Jeongguk's girlfriend. And you are?"

On a technicality - so much in the fact that he hasn't asked her to be - Jiyeong is not Jeongguk's girlfriend.

Right now, though? Safer to pretend she is.

"I'm an old friend," Hayun simply smiles, before turning back to Jeongguk. "I'll be with our friends, buddy. Have a good night."

He nods, and tries not to watch as she walks away. There's a queue forming, and he knows he needs to get back to work, but it feels like his head is gonna cave in.

Jiyeong is unashamed as she stares Hayun out, watching her walk over to Taehyung, who greets her with a hug that confirms she really is an old friend. Whatever history they have together, Jiyeong knows that Hayun will always have known Jeongguk longer. Will have known him better, at some point. It's irrational, but she doesn't like it.

"Need a drink?" Jeongguk asks her, not wanting to deal with any sourness. Knows he needs to get back to serving the punters lined up by the bar, but needs to remedy her woes first. Keep it sweet.

When Jiyeong speaks, the syrupy tone of her voice that she'd used with Hayun has turned incredibly bitter. "An old friend?"

Jeongguk doesn't respond immediately. Just sort of looks at Jiyeong. Wonders how someone so beautiful can make him feel so ugly on the inside.

"Hayun," Jeongguk confirms. "She's known us for years."

He's quick to make it about the group, and not just himself. He knows he's avoiding a difficult topic, but now's not the time. There are punters trying to get his attention. His eyes scan the crowd. This is too much for him to deal with right now.

He slips his hand away from hers, and takes an order from the girl beside her. 'Rum and coke, please.'

"You've never mentioned her before," Jiyeong decides to carry on the conversation as Jeongguk works. He wants to scream. Keeps his cool regardless.

"She lives in Seoul," he simply states. "Is never normally here."

"She's here now."

Jeongguk just shrugs, before turning to the girl and accepting her card. He gives a closed-lip smile, as if to apologise for the awkwardness. She's a little shy - definitely younger, maybe only about twenty - and her cheeks flame a little red from the eye contact.

Jiyeong doesn't like that either.

"Clock off," she says to Jeongguk as he passes the girl back her card. "At midnight. Clock off for midnight."

"That's not how jobs work, Ji."

Except it kind of is, for Jeongguk. He doesn't need to be working. He volunteered himself for this. Can come and go as he likes. The other manager is also on tonight. He's not 'on duty', as such - just a regular bartender. He's not needed.

He's choosing this.

"Well, fine," she hisses, and that's when Jeongguk knows how this conversation is gonna end. Same way conversations like these always do. "Maybe I've got 'old friends' in other bars."

"Maybe you do," he says flatly, as he smiles at the next customer. "What can I get for you guys?"

Jiyeong doesn't seem to care for his diverted attention.

"I do," she insists. Wants a rise out of him. "I don't need to be here."

"So don't be," Jeongguk snaps. He knows he shouldn't have, but his head's all over the place and he can't be fucked with another petty argument over nothing .

He listens to the order - three jack daniels and lemonade - and sets about making them. The music is loud, but it's not enough to drown her out.

"Fine," she says as she reaches for his hand when he goes to grab the soda gun. She wants his attention on her, and not some fucking customer. They're replacable, she thinks. She isn't. "I will go to another bar, and when it hits midnight, I will kiss someone else. If you let me leave, that's what will happen."

He knows that if she was sober, she likely wouldn't be acting out like this. The fact he's sober is probably amplifying his irritation, but there's a time and a place for this.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" Jeongguk pulls his hand back. Picks up the soda gun and fills the plastic cups. The lemonade bubbles, fizzing over ever so slightly, but Jeongguk is too annoyed to care for accurate pours. Hands over the drinks, takes the customer's card, and then finally says, "You want me to chase you? I'm fucking working , Jiyeong."

There's a heat that comes with being inside a club, even in the depths of a freezing winter. Clammy bodies make the air steam, drinks sticky on the floor, slurred words misconstrued. No point crying over spilt liquor, though.

It's something Jeongguk is wise to. Has seen enough catfights to last a lifetime. Knows how easily the wrong choice of words can catapult decades-long friendships into the firing line. The same girls he'd see arguing would be back the next week, smiles on their faces, fingers laced together, affection evident.

It's different, when both parties are trashed. Forgiveness is more freely given. Mistakes made under the influence are chalked up to bad decisions never to be repeated.

The way Jiyeong repeatedly starts fights with him, without fail, every single time she gets a little tipsy isn't a mistake. It's a deliberate choice.

"I want you to care!" She scathes. "I want you to care about the idea of someone else kissing me! I want you to care enough to stop it from happening!"

Jeongguk laughs now. Really fucking laughs. Passes back the customer their card and then gives Jiyeong the attention she so desperately craves.

"Nah, let's call this what it really is, Ji," he sneers back, voice laced with agitation, nostrils flared. "You're making up hypotheticals to manipulate me into doing what you want-"

She laughs. It isn't pretty. "So now you're making me out to be the bad guy? Great."

"No, I'm not," he stresses, exasperated, talking with his hands because he doesn't know how to convey his frustration. "You just don't have to do any of those things! You don't have to leave, don't have to fucking get with someone else, don't have to fight with me over shit that hasn't happened yet-"

"No, I see how it is," she snaps. "You want me to leave."

"Honestly?" he shrugs, because what more can he do? He's reached his limit. "At this point Jiyeong, I don't give a fuck."

"Fine," she hisses. "If you let me leave, that's it. We're done."

"What?"

"If you let me leave, we're done."

Un-fucking-believable .

"You're like a fucking toddler just trying to push boundaries. I'm not your parent, Ji. This is never gonna work if you keep pulling shit like this."

She shrugs. Smiles in an ambivalent way that Jeongguk knows should scare him - but he's beyond the point of caring. He never should have listened to Jimin. Should have trusted his gut.

One of the drinks Jeongguk has just served is still on the bar, awaiting a pair of clammy hands to pick it up and quench the thirst of a shit-faced uni student. They're too slow. Jiyeong gets to it first.

She's like a cat in the way she smirks as the back of her hand flicks against it, sending the drink flying straight into Jeongguk's chest. It splashes down his abdomen, soaking his tummy, trickling down the top of his trousers.

Jimin's three rules of a breakup may work for him, but Jeongguk's never been like that. He isn't made for shit like this. He's a people pleaser, but he's growing to realise there's just no pleasing some people.

And as Jimin's first rule - 'always wear black' - is proven to be pretty solid advice, Jeongguk's head is even more of a mess than it was before. He doesn't know what to do. Doesn't know how to react. No one has ever pulled shit like this with him before. Not a punter, not a friend, not a girl.

"Oh no," she pouts, all dramatic and pathetic, as the cup drops to the floor. "I guess I'm just a toddler pushing boundaries ."

Jeongguk says nothing. Grates his jaw. Looks down at his chest where the fabric is clinging to his torso. The lemonade is gonna go sticky. He fucking hates being sticky.

"Maybe that old friend of yours can help dry you off?" Jiyeong smiles - but it's wiped from her face as Jeongguk glares at her in a way she's never seen before. Very few people ever get him like this - but the boundaries she's pushed have been tested beyond repair. There's no going back from this.

In other circumstances, he might let it slide - but public humiliation in his place of work is just cruel .

Those definitives Jeongguk dates in are at the forefront of his mind. He's looking for someone to share his life with. If he doesn't see a future, then he sees no point in carrying it on, and he's pissed off at himself for letting this go on for as long as it has.

He wants a family one day, and the idea of his kids having a cruel mother makes his skin crawl. Kindness, in abundance, is what he'd like to cultivate and, quite frankly, he doesn't think Jiyeong's willing nor able to offer that.

And so Jeongguk is clear, voice loud above the music as he says, "We're done."

Jiyeong laughs. The sound stutters in her throat, disbelief etched into her tipsy features.

"What?"

"I don't want this," he says, gesturing between them both. "Us. This. I don't want it."

Punters waiting by the bar look on with bemused horror. No one really has a clear grasp on what's happened, but they know it isn't good. Know that Jeongguk - mild-mannered, placid, Jeongguk - is fuming. He's so well recognised amongst Dionysus regulars that the idea of getting on his bad side is unfathomable.

Or at least it was.

Jiyeong pauses for a moment. The cogs in her brain are turning. She's aware she fucked up, but is too headstrong to admit it.

In his heart of hearts, Jeongguk knows that no one wants a relationship like this. Jiyeong likely doesn't, either. Is probably the product of her past traumas; boys who behaved in the way that she is right now.

Jeongguk's avoidant because Hayun was avoidant.

He knows you're fearful of commitment because Seokjin found it impossible.

Jiyeong probably pushes boundaries because she was burned by a boy who did the same.

But just because it's true doesn't make it right.

"Look, I don't wanna fight," Jeongguk sighs as he reaches for a cloth to pat himself down with. Yeonjun's clued himself into what's happening. Has moved up the bar, and is diverting Jeongguk's punters to him, instead. It's appreciated and will be repaid at a later date, but for now, Jeongguk needs to try and diffuse the situation. "But this just... this is fucking ridiculous, Ji. This isn't right. You know it isn't."

"We can make it right," she says now, as if Jeongguk's softness is making her realise that maybe she could be soft, too - but it's too late. His mind is made up. Has been for weeks, now.

"No," he replies quietly with a shake of his head. He doesn't want to cause further upset, but he can't keep lying to himself. It's not fair on either of them. "I don't think we can."

She says nothing. Just keeps looking at him as if he's gone insane.

"We can talk about this another time," he promises. "Not here. Not now. Not when you're drunk."

And then, all rather suddenly, as if she's forgotten that these are consequences of her own actions, Jiyeong is displeased. Turns her nose up. Tells him to ' get fucked ', as if that's gonna help the situation.

When she storms off in a huff, he doesn't stop her. Refuses to chase. He's not a fucking dog. Isn't gonna wait by her feet just in case she throws him a bone, like she hopes he will.

He tilts his head to the side. Shakes it a little. Sighs. His shirt is soaked through, and he knows he's gonna feel fucking horrible in a little while thanks to the soda syrup. He wouldn't care so much if he was getting fucked up with his friends, but he's void of anything to intoxicate him.

When he glances over to Jiyeong's table, her gaggle of friends have already left, so he assumes she has, too. The knowledge of this doesn't alleviate any stress like he half thinks it should. Just makes him feel like a failure all over again.

He can't stand looking at everyone smiling and having a good time, so he turns to rest his palms on the back bench of the bar. Drops his head, chin to his chest. Breathes. Fuck sake.

For all of her flaws, Jiyeong was proof that he'd managed to get himself over whatever the fuck Hayun put him through. Without her, what's he got to show for it all?

"Take 5," Yeonjun calls over to Jeongguk. He glances over to see Yeonjun's cerulean hair a mess, exhaustion on his features - but the queue is entirely gone. "I mean it, Boss. Take 5. I've got it covered."

Jeongguk's stare lingers, but eventually, he nods. Doesn't want to fight against anyone, not even Yeonjun. Does as he's told. Knows that the kid is gonna be cherry-picked for his job whenever Jeongguk leaves Dionysus, so figures he may as well give him a taste for authority.

That, and Jeongguk also really does need to take five.

The pressure of his fingertips against the smooth steel pins as he taps in the staff room code is welcome; a reminder that people aren't supposed to be hard. The pads of his fingertips are soft, and so is he.

Scattered in possessions that belong to his friends, the staff room is remarkably quiet compared to the main club. The sofas are empty, cups by the sink, too. There's a white shirt slung over the back of a chair, left there from the paint party all those months ago. It's the one he had brought along for you, but it seems like he needs it now.

His fingers work downwards, threading buttons through the silky fabric, releasing his body from the prison of a damp shirt. It rests open, but still clings towards the bottom where it's the most saturated in fucking Jack Daniels. He's always hated the stuff. Hates the smell. Reminds him of Tae's 19th birthday. Years later, he still can't stomach it.

Jeongguk is tired. Mentally, physically, he's exhausted. Has spent the last couple of weeks trying to hold it all together, when all he's wanted was to crumble like chalk from an eroding cliff edge. The nets that have been holding him in place have been torn through, or so it feels like.

Sinking into the sofa with a small thud, Jeongguk can't figure out how every single decision he makes seems to be so disastrous. Surely life is so supposed to be easier than this?

He rubs his ink-covered hand over his face, pushing it back into his hair. Lets his head hang back over the sofa and up towards the ceiling. There are a dozen beige marks on what should have been a paper white canvas; water damage from years of disrepair. The hidden secret of clubs is truly how decrepit they really are. Nobody notices when the lights are off, and there are disco balls obscuring the ugliness of it all.

It doesn't take much for you to find your way back into his mind. It's rude, how often you intrude. He should start charging you rent.

A soft smile settles on his lips as he thinks about how easy it is with you. None of those complicated feelings that come with Hayun, and none of the aggro that accompanies Jiyeong. Wishes everything could be as simple as the way he feels about you.

As he sits up a little straighter, his eyes fall on a pair of heels. They're next to your coat, chucked in the corner of the room, a little out of the way. They sparkle, even under the dull light of the staff room. Encrusted with diamonds that he knows are just little fakes, they match your dress.

Part of him wishes he hadn't taken up that bar shift.

Would have just made Purple Star Fuckers in the staff room with you every half an hour or so. Would have definitely pissed off Yeonjun with how frequently he was hopping behind the bar, but who cares? Would have been worth it.

A small box of plasters is perched on top of your coat; wrappers, too. He looks down to his feet. Wonders if you changed into your Chucks. Maybe you match. He likes the idea of that.

Legs spread, hands resting over his thighs, Jeongguk tips one of his feet ever so slightly to get a better look at the inner trim of his sole. By his ankle, beneath the classic all-star logo, there are tiny scratch marks on the rubber.

Before he'd taken a corkscrew to the shoes in this very room, there used to be a small 'H' there.

Used to wear them to keep her close. Wears them now 'cause it makes him laugh whenever you twin.

"The fuck are you doing?" He mutters to himself. Doesn't understand why he's even comparing.

Except he does.

It's been nearly a month and a half since he woke up to you in his bed, glitter all over his pillows. His sheets have been through the wash twice since then. Still finds glitter on his skin. Can't shake you. Is reminded of you every time tiny specks catch in the light. You're under every golden sunset and in every night sky. You consume him; eclipse him.

He'd take the darkness, though. Scared of the dark, but doesn't mind it if it means he can see you.

The distance has been unhelpful. Jeongguk overthinks. Lets his mind get away from himself. Needs to talk to you to remind himself of your dynamic; to remember how good things are as they are. Can't be fucking things up just 'cause his head's a bit of a mess.

He mumbles to himself as he stands up to change his shirt. Laments his past choices. Knows that he ruined his friendship with Hayun because he let his mind run away with the possibilities of 'what if?' and refuses to let the same thing happen again. It's not worth the heartache. Not when you guys have such a good thing going.

He pulls the white shirt over his head, and checks himself over in the mirror on the back of the door. His chains rest on top of the fabric, but he's not sure whether or not he should tuck the shirt into his trousers or let it hang loose. Eventually, he unbuckles his belt and adjusts his pants so that he can arrange his shirt a bit more freely, opting for tucked-in. You always mention how much you like his belt whenever it's on show, so he figures this looks better.

There's a side table by the door, and on it are a handful of novelty headbands for the night. He needs a bit of a pick me up, so he reaches for the most ridiculous one - silver and sparkly, 'HAPPY NEW YEAR' written in chunky plastic lettering over the top of it. He pushes it back through his hair as if it's a pair of sunglasses, and decides that'll do. His chest might be hidden now, but his forehead is out. What a treat.

He's barely gotten through the door when he spots you zooming up to the bar, most definitely trashed. Your little hands grip onto the bar to keep you from losing your balance, and your smile is borderline insane - but it gets Jeongguk smiling too.

You gasp. "An outfit change?! You didn't tell me we were doing outfit changes!" And then you pout. "You're gonna upstage me, Gguk."

"Impossible," he jokes. "I'm not half sparkly enough."

Glancing towards his little headband, you decide you must have it. It's a fault of yours, how often you like to... acquire ... things when you've been drinking. Lighters, hair accessories, the occasional street sign in your youth, there was little you didn't want when you'd been drinking.

He notices the way your eyes are glued to it, and smirks. "Jealous?"

"Immensely," you confirm without any hesitation. You sort of look like a puppy waiting for its owner to finish a slice of toast. "In fact, I have a proposition for you."

"Go on," he grins, crossing his arms over. You wish he wouldn't look at you like that; chin tilted upwards, tongue on the inside of his cheek, heavy-lidded eyes baiting you out. Especially not when you're as tipsy and prone to making god-awful decisions as you are. "I'm listening."

"I am prepared to offer you a trade," you begin to bargain, a cheeky glint in your eyes.

"A trade?"

"A trade," you nod, before you start rummaging around in your bag. Jeongguk watches with great curiosity, wondering what on earth you've got crammed in there - until you pull out a thin tube covered in sparkles. "Gimmie the headband and I'll give you glitter."

It's not a fair trade. You know it's not a fair trade. His headband is everything .

And yet Jeongguk doesn't even try to negotiate - just reaches up for the headband and leans across the bar to position it in your hair for you. He takes his time - makes sure it's perfectly placed - then rests his elbows on the bar, his chin in his hands.

"Glitter me up, Disco Ball."

There's genuine delight in your eyes as he says those words, and Jeongguk finds himself smiling in that compressed sort of way he does, tiny puffs forming beneath his eyes, nose scrunched, front teeth on show. He looks like a little bunny, and you think it's appropriate given that you're about to enter the year of the rabbit.

You squeak out a small 'yay' as you begin to unscrew the tube. He's never seen you put your glitter on, but this definitely isn't how he ever imagined it. He always just sort of assumed you sat there with a pot of craft-grade glitter and some sort of glue. Never considered that you put it on like lipgloss.

"Might be cold," you warn as you begin to dab the applicator against his cheeks. It shimmers and shines beneath bare lights, and you're amazed that you've never done this before. Jeongguk's skin is to die for. No better canvas. No better person.

Your fingers gently clasp his jaw, pulling him a little closer. "You look so pretty."

Jeongguk's smile is all bashful. He tells you to fuck off. Assures you he looks very manly.

"I like the white tee, black slacks combo," you admit. "And glitter can be manly, too."

"It can?"

"You're a man, no?"

There's a closeness to this position; one that has you forgetting that you're in a club, surrounded by dozens of people who will all be drawing their own conclusions over whatever is happening by the bar. You learned a long time ago that you can't control other people's narrative of you. If they think a certain way? Make assumptions? Let them.

You also can't control Jeongguk's eyes, and the way they flick down ever so briefly to your lips as your talk.

It means nothing. Jiyeong is here, or at least you think she is. Jeongguk knows better than to fucking flirt when she's around. Again, you think she's nearby.

You're unaware of what transpired. You don't know he's wearing an outfit you like so much because she'd decided to lose her cool. Are none the wiser of the fact that Jeongguk ended things. Sure it wasn't clear cut, and he'll likely need to have another conversation with her to fully establish their parting of ways, but as far as he's concerned, he's done with her.

He doesn't tell you this. He won't tell you. Not yet. After the evening has passed, maybe.

But not now. He knows you'll make him talk about it, and truthfully he wants to forget it. Wants to stargaze.

And now that he is? Fuck .

Fifteen minutes to midnight, and all Jeongguk can think about is your rules, and how much he hopes you won't break them for a stranger.

Doesn't want you to break them for him, either - you're off your tits and he can't even begin to start playing catch up until the clock strikes twelve. Just wants you to be safe. That's all.

Unaware of the workout he's giving his brain, you pull back from Jeongguk to study your work. The glitter is iridescent; purple pink hues scattered over the tops of his cheeks. He looks so charming that you squeal again. You simply adore the way he shines.

"Wait, wait," you say quietly, encouraging him to lean closers again. "Pout."

He does. It's cute. He sort of looks like a little emoji, all puckered and a little embarrassed, trying to stifle his giggle. You trace the wand of your glitter over the top ridge, delicately dappling his cupids bow in teeny tiny traces of glitter.

You pull away again to take in the sight of him. So pretty and ethereal. You want to fill his tattoos in with glitter, too, but you'd miss midnight if you did. Maybe next time.

"There," you smile. "That way you won't be able to deny it when Tae is your new year's kiss. You'll both be covered in it."

Jeongguk laughs. Shakes his head. Thinks you're stupid. Thinks you're cute, too.

The headband holds some of your hair back, much like it did with his, and Jeongguk is pleased. Your constellations deserve to be admired in their full glory.

"Star fucker?" He just asks.

You nod. Of course. You'll never turn one down.

"Can I get a drink to go, too?" You chance.

He points up towards the vodka, just to check, and is pleased when you nod. He knows you well, it would seem. Holds up one finger, then two, asking if you want a single or double.

You hold up three fingers. He rolls his eyes, smile prevailing - but makes you a double with a separate side shot, just in case you wanted to down it and use your drink as a chaser. You narrow your eyes, almost as if you're questioning his choices. Thing is, you trust him. Are aware that he has his reasons for doing things in the way that he does.

And so you take your shot and use the drink as a chaser.

"You'll miss new years," Jeongguk says, nodding to the frankly far-too-large screen behind the DJ, which already has a countdown on the screen. There's still about ten minutes to go. "You gonna break your rules tonight?"

It takes your brain a second to compute what he means. You furrow your brows, lips parting as you hum a confused little squeak - until you realise.

Laughing, you hold up your drink, and press a delicate kiss to the plastic cup. When your eyes close, Jeongguk is reminded of just how much you shine under club lights. It's a crying shame you don't kiss more people, he thinks.

Not that he'd like watching it. Just that he likes your glitter. Can see it better this way.

"Vodka is the only thing I'll be kissing," you assure him. The way you smile, all tipsy and giggly, gets him smiling, too. Then you correct yourself. "Maybe Danbi, too, but she doesn't count."

And she'll also likely be kissing Taehyung, if the way they've been flirting for the last six months is anything to go by.

"So you're allowed to kiss friends?" He grins, teasing you for your self-imposed rules.

"Friends who I don't fuck," you nod, with a smug smirk on your face - before you realise what you've said and how horribly inappropriate it is. There's a panic in your eyes as you backtrack, hand flailing about. "No, I don't mean- Like, I mean- Fuck. We don't fuck. I mean we did, but that was like once-"

"Twice."

"Don't get technical on me," you laugh. "Doesn't count. Either way, I didn't mean it like that." You look around, checking that Jiyeong isn't anywhere close, still totally unaware of the fight, or the fact she even left.

Jeongguk seems to be aware of who you're looking for. His lips settle into a small, almost unnoticeable, frown.

But you notice.

Of course you notice.

"Whatsup?"

He just shakes his head. "Nothing. Scarper, you little freeloader, or I'll charge you for that drink."

"Noted," you grin, distracted by the way he smiles, now. "If you're allowed, you should be with us all when New Year's hits. Or I can stay by the bar? I don't know where Jiyeong is, but-"

"I'll come find you guys," Jeongguk nods before you finish your sentence. Smiles, still. Seems sincere.

"Okay," you say quietly, a pleased look upon your face. You hate the idea of him watching on as you all celebrate without him. He's so important. You think it wouldn't be worth celebrating without him there with you. "Good. See you next year."

He laughs in that way he so often does whenever you say or do dumb shit. "See you next year, Byeol."

He loses you to the night once more, but doesn't imagine it will be for long.

The brightness of the LED screen counting down the time makes everything feel a little brighter. The DJ is hyping up the crowd as you work your way back to your friends. There's a girl who's taken your spot next to Tae, but Jimin notices you immediately and beckons you closer.

"DB," he slurs, as he pulls you in for a hug so tight you swear your back cracks. "Thought we'd lost you."

Shaking your head, you giggle against his neck which makes Jimin shiver a little bit. "Was by the bar with Gguk."

"How is he?" Jimin asks as he pulls away from you.

"All good-"

"What?" Jimin shouts as he leans closer. It's so much louder here than it is down by the bar. You position yourself next to his ear and explain that Jeongguk will join you all at midnight. Jimin is incredibly pleased to hear this. "Perfect. The night is young, but so are we, Disco Ball. Drink up!"

And so you do. You've nearly finished the drink Jeongguk made you already. You only stop yourself from finishing it off because you feel a presence next to you that puts you on edge a little bit.

Jimin's on the other side of the circle now. Notices the way she leans in a little to make herself known to you. Knows you, and knows how you'd go to bat for Jeongguk against anyone - especially anyone who has done him wrong. He wonders if he should intervene - but then Hoseok starts dancing in a way Jimin didn't realise was humanly possible and he feels challenged. No one outdances him. Ever . And yet Hoseok? Yeah Hoseok is giving him a run for his money, and he's too drunk to focus on more than one thing at a time.

Like you, Jimin would also go to bat for Jeongguk against anyone. Now that he realises you're both full of shit, and suit one another better than a yakult-soju mix, he wouldn't even dream of approaching you in a more than friendly manner. He'll still flirt a little, but he flirts with everyone. Jeongguk included.

He's the only one who really understands the gravity of the interaction that's about to happen - but he's also far too concerned with the fact Hoseok's body seems to defy gravity.

And so no one else really notices the way she encroaches on your space as you're glancing over to Jeongguk, making sure the queue isn't too long. You don't want him to miss his chance to join you all for New Year's.

"I thought Jeongguk had a girlfriend?" The girl beside you purrs.

"Hmm?" You hum with a little surprise, not expecting her to start a conversation with you. She obviously knows him, but you can't place her. "He's seeing someone."

She nods, eyes still on Jeongguk, watching on as he serves a small group of girls. His smile is ever-present, but he isn't as lively as he was with you. Doesn't look at them all starry-eyed. You pretend not to be pleased.

"Not sure how I'd feel about some girl going up to my boyfriend like that," she shrugs, sipping on her drink.

You glance over to her now, affronted by the tone in which she's speaking to you - as if you hadn't quite literally been the one to set Jeongguk up with Jiyeong. You're hardly a threat. You don't think anyone could be a threat, 'cause you've got a pair of working eyes and are incredibly aware that Jiyeong looks like she belongs in the fucking Louvre.

"Sorry?"

"Just saying. I wouldn't be happy with some girl all over my boyfriend like that."

The girl with the attitude problem wears a shade of red on her lips that you know must leave stains. If you were being critical, you'd tell her that she should go for a colder-hued red. The orange base of her choice washes her out a little bit.

But the lighting is bad, and you're sure it looks better under natural lighting. You're just being bitchy 'cause, well, she's being bitchy. At least you don't let your bitchiness out of its cage.

Much .

"Her boyfriend is a multidimensional human being, who has an identity and a life outside of his relationship," you assure her. It sounds great in your head, but in reality, it's a little incoherent because of all the vodka in your system. Jeongguk's get-fucked-up-quickly hack of a separate shot and double-chaser is doing its job. "Regardless, I'm hardly a threat. I literally set them up. He's, like, my best friend. It's not like that with us."

She snorts. "Right. Sure you are."

"Sorry?"

"Well I've never heard of you," she smiles. "And I'm pretty sure if you asked him who his best friend is, he'd say it was me."

The vodka in your system burns . It's like someone's taken a lighter to your liquor-soaked tongue just to watch the flames trickle down your throat.

The penny drops, shattering on the ground like a pane of glass. This is Hayun.

If you acknowledge your awareness of who she is, it will only confirm that she's a prominent part of his life, even in her absence - but equally there's nothing you'd love more than to put her in her place. Hayun has been a thorn in your side since before you ever learnt her name, and no amount of rose-red lipstick can make you think prettily of her.

Jeongguk is your best friend. He and Danbi are incomparable, but both play fundamentally important roles in your life. Both are deserving of the title, you think.

Your days are better for knowing him. You're not entirely sure if he'd say the same, but you're pretty certain he thinks fondly of the life he's experienced since knowing you.

There are, at least, no residual memories of hurt. You know he won't look at you and be reminded of what rock bottom feels like - and that's pretty nice to know, even if it isn't nice knowing he once was there.

"Word of advice?" You simply hum. "If you wanna fight over Jeongguk, do it with Jiyeong. I'm not interested, you possessive little weirdo. You'll get a much more interesting rise out of her than you will from me."

Maybe name-calling is a little immature, but it's better than calling her a raging cunt and pretending she has lipstick on her teeth just to make her squirm. You might still do that last part.

"I'm not interested in a fight," she says vacantly, a smug smile etched on her ruby-red lips. "I just know Jeongguk. I know what happens to the girls he becomes 'besties' with. I wasn't the first 'best friend' he had, and I doubt I'll be the last. Doubt you will be, either."

Your exterior is icy, but something about her words troubles you. You've never tended to think of yourself as special, but you also didn't think you were insignificant, either.

Admittedly, there's also nothing you hate more than the idea of men only befriending women so they can bed them. You've had friends in the past that have dropped you once they realised you weren't interested in pursuing anything romantic.

Jeongguk's never given you those vibes - but you have also fucked him, so it makes it a little more complex. Her words get under your skin, and you detest her for it.

She's rattled you - and for what? It's nearly midnight. You don't want to be having this conversation right now.

"You're being awfully repugnant for someone who isn't interested in a fight," you simply smile, deciding that playing nice isn't what you want to do.

Sure, it might annoy Jeongguk if it gets back to him, but so what? You're not obligated to be nice to everyone he likes. You try your best not to be too quick with judgements, but your opinion of Hayun has been rotting for a while now; festering in the deepest, darkest part of your brain.

If she had tried being nice to you, then maybe it would be a different story - but she decided to get petty first.

You shouldn't stoop to her level, you know, but you're about six star fuckers deep, and that's before you even consider the vodka cokes Hoseok's been keeping topped up all night. You're trashed . It's a miracle you can even stand straight.

It's partially thanks to the fact your balance has improved tenfold since taking up pole with Danbi, but also because you changed your shoes. Switching from heels to converse? Game. Changer.

"You've got a mouth on you," she assesses. Turns her nose up. You want to flick her stupid shiny forehead. "He normally prefers the nice types."

"Well, then it's a good job it doesn't matter what 'type' I am, then, isn't it?" You reply, not caring for this weird little drama she's making out of a simple interaction. Storm in a teacup, you think. "He's just a friend. Like you are. You're just his friend."

Hayun doesn't bite back this time. She stews. Sips on her drink.

"Surely - yanno, as his best friend - you should want him to have lots of friends? Want him to have a thriving social life?" You add. "Instead of trying to chase away people who care about him?"

"Ah, so you're more about quantity over quality," she nods. Smirks. "I see."

And sure, you could be the bigger person. You could just walk away in silent protest. You could be mature about it all.

You could go to the bar, and order a drink, and question Jeongguk's taste in women - but he could probably do the same back to you.

While there's a lingering fear that speaking unkindly to Hayun will earn you a place in Jeongguk's bad books, you decide that it's worth it. He might be blind to the fact she's an insufferable twat with as much decorum as a flooded sewer grate, but you aren't.

You're also drunk, which isn't helping in the slightest. All you wanted was a fun evening to say farewell (and fuck off) to what's been a pretty awful year. Being in her presence was never part of your plan, and you're actually a bit annoyed with Jeongguk for not at least warning you.

"I'm 'more about' you shutting the fuck up, actually," you finally snap. "Don't give a shit about your weird little Jeongguk fixation, but it's gotten real boring real fast. Now if you don't mind, Yunnie , I'm gonna go enjoy New Years with my friends. I would wish you a happy new year, but I couldn't give a fuck." The drink in your hand is finished off; down your throat in one final, rather undignified, swig. You turn to look at her, smile, and hope she knows what a dickhead you think she is. "Have the year you deserve."

It's three minutes to midnight, and Jeongguk's watching on with a knot in his stomach as you walk away from a conversation that neither you, nor Hayun, look pleased to have had.

She's glaring as you disappear into the crowd, disgruntled by whatever you had to say. He remembers how Hayun works; how she'll say something catty but won't ever see a fight through. Always resorts to silent treatment.

He knows you got the last word in, but knows that it would have happened regardless of Hayun's bickering style - because that's your style.

Though it feels like time has ceased to exist, the clock on the big screen still counts down. Before he realises it, it's two minutes to midnight. Hayun is smiling now, joking with Nabi, or Tae. He isn't quite sure who. Danbi and Hoseok are with everyone else, too, but you still haven't emerged.

It's at this point Jeongguk resigns himself to the fact that your rules are being broken tonight.

He doesn't like the way it makes him feel; all jittery and skittish. He wants to know where you are. Wants you to be safe. Doesn't want you making bad decisions you can't take back. Wants you with people who care about you as the clock strikes twelve.

Scanning the crowd, he debates going in to find you.

But then, all rather sombrely, as the clock ticks closer and closer to the ever-imposing New Year, he spots you. Knows exactly where you're heading. You're walking in his direction, but not towards him. If his guesses are right, you'll walk straight past him.

And you do.

He knows you well.

You deliberately avoid his gaze as you walk on by. You don't want him following. He's got a New Year to celebrate. People he loves to celebrate it with.

So do you - but it's been such a shit show of a year that maybe it'd be cathartic to say goodbye to it alone, before you're able to welcome a new year in with others.

Or maybe you're just a little too drunk and emotional to be around someone who makes you feel real fuckin' shitty.

There's a minute left.

Hayun keeps glancing over to the bar. Jimin's got his phone to his ear, and Jeongguk's phone is vibrating in his pocket.

Follow you, or find his friends.

It's a head or heart decision.

Trouble is, he doesn't know which is which, anymore.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[judes-hoe]

Family Time ~ TAA66

Parrings ~ Trent Alexander-Arnold x reader

Summary ~ Trent knows your parents and siblings, but what happens when he goes to your grandparents(dad’s side) house for Christmas, and meets the rest of your crazy family.

Warnings ~ none

A/N ~ just to clarify that this will be kinda about my dads side of the family and I will be using my family’s names, Sid you don’t want to read it don’t, also I do live in the united states so it’ll kinda be like you and Trent going to visit for the weekend. Also she wanted me to tag her and I said I would @formulalfc <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Trent were currently on your way to your grandmas house.

You had asked Trent if he could come with you for a weekend to fly to the United States, so you could do Christmas with your family. It’s be his first time meeting, your dad’s side of the family. You’ll admit that it was a little hectic sometimes, I mean your dad has 3 brothers so, you have a lot of cousins. But Trent had asked klopp to take the weekend to go and that he’d be back Sunday in the afternoon. So klopp agreed and here you are, in a car with your sister and her husband, driving to your grandparents.

Your sister and her husband were talking so I look over at Trent. “You nervous” you asked Trent taking his hand to hold. “Yeah a little, you always talk about how hectic it can get” he says with a smile. “It’s fine they’ll love you” you spoke with a smile. “My grandma loves everyone” you said.

Trent knows your family, like mom and dad and your sibling. He’s never met any of your grandparents, so when you said like your uncles and their kids will be there and if everyone is there, they’ll probably be like 15 people in your grandparents house.

~~~

After about an hour, you finally arrived to your grandparents house. “When we get in I’ll introduce you to everyone, then we can just sit on the couch and chill” you told him, he just nodded back. You walked into the house after your sister Savannah, and her husband Boyd.

When you and Trent take your shoes off you see your mom and dad first. “Hey mom, hey dad” you spoke hugging them both, then they went and hugged Trent. I walk over to my grandma who was looking for something. “Hi nene, this is my boyfriend Trent” you said hugging her. “Hey my lovely granddaughter, nice to meet you Trent” she said hugging him as well to which he hugged back with a smile. “Nice to meet you” he said softly.

You walk over to the dining room table we’re most of your uncles and aunts were. “Hi everyone” you spoke going around and hugging them. “This is my boyfriend Trent” you said to which they all said hi and said their names.

“Okay I’ll take you to meet all my cousins come here” you said and Trent follows you like a dog. “So this is, Anissa and her boyfriend Ethan, this is Anissa brother Jalen and his Wife Kalyne, this is Anissa and Jalen’s brother Logan, This is Ellah and her brother Gio, then this is Christian and his sisters jewl, Avery, and raven” you spoke going around introducing Trent to all of your cousins. “Nice to meet all of your” he said.

After you had introduced Trent to everyone, you took a seat on the couch and he sat next to you. “So what do you think, I know it’s a lot of people” you look at him laughing softly. “It’s a lot of people but they seem cool” he said kissing you cheek.

You and Trent sat there on the couch, you held his hand between the both of you. Your cousins coming to talk once in awhile. “Dinner ready if you wanna eat” my grandma shouts out. “Do you wanna go eat” you asked Trent. “If you want I’ll get food and you can eat some stuff off my plate, I know klopp probably doesn’t want you eating kinda unhealthy food” you spoke before he could answer. “That’s fine, but I love when you pay attention too what I can and can’t eat my love” he said kissing you before getting up.

You got a plate of food, before sitting next to Trent at a table with all your cousins. “You’re not gonna eat Trent” my dad had called out seeing Trent didn’t have a plate. “No, I got a game the day after we get back to England so coach doesn’t want me to really eat anything that might not be good for me” he told my dad. “But I’m gonna eat some food off of her plate” he added. “Alright bud I was just checking” my dad said sitting at the table next to us.

While we all ate, Trent ate some stuff off your plate. You and Trent went to go and sit on the couch as your grandma said it was time to open gifts. Trent had pulled you in his lap so there was room for other people. All the other kids got fifty dollars while younger kids got 4-5 gifts.

Your sister, her husband, you, and Trent all said our goodbyes and got in the car to head back to my sisters house.

After and hour car ride, you and Trent went to the guest bedroom, changing into pajamas before getting into bed. “So how’d you like meeting the rest of my family” you asked him while rubbing up and down his arm. “It was nice, they seem nice and chill, but god I love your family drama” he said giving you a kiss after. “Alright let’s go to sleep my love we have a very early flight” he said kissing my forehead before pulling you close to his chest. “I love you” you said kissing right over his heart. “I love you too princess” he mumbled in your hair.

~~~~~~~~

[idontplaytrack]

can you write an aj fic, college au, when r bring her home for the holidays but her parents arent approving of it…and the end can be like r’s cousins or siblings taking r and aj out to a gay bar or something, a mostly happy ending

✧ It’s Not Christmas Without You

AJ Campos x fem! reader

Warnings: coarse language, homophobia, quarrelling, underage drinking mentions, sexual assault mentions

In which reader’s parents do not approve of their relationship so the siblings and cousins make their holidays better by taking them out instead

“So they know I’m coming?”

“Yeah, I told them I was bringing my partner home.”

“They probably think I’m a guy.”

“Yeah, but screw it. If they kick me out, we still have a place to go, baby.” You told her, “We’ll be fine.”

And to be completely honest, you and AJ had discussed this. This visit back home for the holidays was out of courtesy. No matter how they reacted, you’d still be telling them that you’d be moving out. But if they didn’t approve, you’d never be coming home again, ever. You weren’t going to give your parents the upper hand and satisfaction of kicking you out. Never.

Your sister was picking you and AJ up from the airport. And for a little bit of a background on your family, you were the youngest of three. Your older brother, Theo and older sister Patricia were well into their twenties, both married. Patricia had two children— your darling niece and nephew, Aurora and Austin. As for Theo, he’d just gotten hitched on halloween with his boyfriend. That’d be Robin. Wanna make a guess which one of your siblings had a better relationship with your parents?

Patricia did. They were only okay with Theo having a boyfriend (at the time) because he was bi. So to them, that meant that he’d still be able to start a family if he wanted. Boy, did Theo shut them down so quickly. But they were still in denial. So far, Theo was the only one in your family that you were out to. You figured that only he truly understood your fear. But in a matter of minutes, Patricia would know as well.

“y/n!”

Immediately, you spotted Patricia thanks to her distinctive voice over buzzing chatter of the swarm of people in the arrival hall. You rushed up to her, still holding onto AJ’s hand. “Hi, Trishy.” You hugged her back.

“Let me guess, AJ?”

“That’s me.” AJ chuckles lightly, “Were you expecting a guy too?”

“Not exactly.” Your sister admits, “Let me help you with your bag.”

“Explain.” You gasped, looking at her with wide eyes.

“I just don’t really care who you’re dating unless they treat you right. I wasn’t expecting anybody specific.”

“Oh.” You nodded, “Thanks?”

“Let’s go, Theo’s waiting in the car. And your precious niece and nephew are waiting at home.”

Getting into your sister’s car, you sat in the middle seat between AJ and Theo. “Good to finally meet ya and put a face to your name.” Theo commented, “She’s very secretive, this one.”

AJ chuckles. “She had her reasons, which I get. But I have nothing to hide, ask me whatever you want.”

“Oh, no, no.” Theo laughed similarly, “I trust you. She’s happy, she’s safe, she’s clearly so loved by you. I’m not the least bit worried.”

“I am,” You stared at him, “Mom and Dad are one hundred percent expecting AJ to be a guy,”

“Well…she can look the part.” Theo jokes. AJ snorted, “We’ll just leave the bags in your car because we’re almost certain they’ll want her outta there. We’re planning to leave either way. I’m not bi, so they will definitely go off on me.”

“Honey.” Patricia turned her head to look over her shoulder, “We got you. We get it— courtesy visit. Because they’ve been asking and asking, and asking. You’d think after two years of you not coming home, they’d at least start to get the hint, noooo, they’ve been painfully oblivious.”

————

“We’re home.” Theo announces, letting out an inevitable sigh. Aurora and Austin dropped their toys and ran over first, tackling you with a hug. AJ? She stood right behind you. “Hi, auntieeeee.” They squealed. “Hey, goofballs. Wow you guys are so tall.”

They giggle happily. “I’m taller.” Aurora grins.

“Sure are, sweetie.” You chuckle, ruffling with her hair.

“Who is this?” The seven year old girl asked.

“I’m AJ,” She smiled.

“You’re really pretty.” Aurora says. “Are you y/n’s friend?”

“Uh, girlfriend.” You answered honestly.

“Oh. Hello, AJ!” The kid shrugged, pulling Austin away to go play again.

And then, your parents. “Girlfriend, Rory, don’t be silly. I’m sure your aunt’s just kidding.”

“Kidding for what?” You asked, almost a little too harshly.

Your mother’s mouth hung open, “You…watch your mouth.”

“Watch my mouth?” You wanted to scoff so badly, “I’ve graduated from college this year. I don’t need to be treated like a child.”

“This is AJ?” Your dad chimed in.

“Oh, yeah. This is AJ and she’s great.” Theo spoke on your behalf, sensing your anger building up to a close peak.

“So are you bisexual too, like Theo?”

“No, Mom.” You stated, “I’m a lesbian,”

“Oh, God. What have I done?”

You were so ready to leave. It was clear AJ was thinking the same thing. “Nothing. You have done nothing. I have always been this way— nothing has changed and nothing needs to change. Why does it matter to you that I’m in love with a woman?”

“Mommy, why are you all mad at auntie? She didn’t do anything wrong.” Aurora appeared again. Shit, you’d forgotten in the moment that the kids were around. You should’ve just turned and left with AJ.

“Baby, come over here. Let’s get back to our movie, hm?” Ezra, her dad, came up to the foyer soon enough.

“No, gramma’s mad at auntie y/n. That’s not nice of her.”

“I’m gonna go, baby. But I’m okay, I promise.”

“Aw.” The kid sulked. “Whyyy.”

“Aurora, they need to talk— let’s let them finish talking first, okay?”

“Ezra, there’s no use talking to them. They’re so stuck in their narrow minds that only what they think, is correct. We’re leaving after we hand the gifts over to the kids.”

“Okay, dinner’s canceled.” Your mom announces.

“Way ahead of you.” Patricia looks up from her phone. “This family hasn’t felt like a family in years. It’s ridiculous that a child knows better than you two do. Ezra, let’s go. We’re moving the dinner to ours— I’ve already texted the rest of them. You two can stuff yourselves for all I care. y/n’s being very kind to come back here when she’s made it pretty clear she doesn’t want to be back here several years ago.”

Not wanting to escalate the situation, all of you left. You sat in Theo’s car with AJ. While Patricia, Ezra and the kids were in their own. With that, the bunch of you were on your way to Patricia and Ezra’s house. “y/n, AJ. The guesthouse is all yours. Make yourselves at home.” Ezra told you both while Patricia got the kids settled and freshened up.

“Wow, thanks.” You replied, then made your way over to the guesthouse through the backyard.

“Rest of the family’s coming by at 8. We have a few hours, so you guys just…chill.” Patricia eventually poked her head into the front doorway of the guesthouse. You hear Aurora and Austin playing in the pool, squealing.

“Well, can we help any way at all?”

“AJ, relax.” Patricia laughs, “I got this, you two just do whatever you want. Let me worry about the cooking.”

“You wanna go for a swim, then?” You glanced at AJ to ask.

“Sure.” AJ beamed, “Let’s do it.”

The moment you and AJ got inside the pool, Austin sprayed you with the water gun, then AJ became the target. Eventually, it became a little bit of a fight. You let the kids win, just because. They’re kids. It was just a game, everyone had fun. After an hour or so, Aurora and Austin wanted to get back inside so Ezra took them, leaving you and AJ alone.

“Are you okay?” AJ asks, pushing herself up to sit down on the edge of the pool.

“What? Yeah, I am.”

“No, I mean, really.” AJ continues.

“Babe, come on. It’s Christmas eve— I don’t want to talk about it.”

She looks at you, you look at her. AJ wasn’t going to give it up. “I don’t wanna talk about it here.” You stood up and led her back into the guesthouse.

“Me and my parents were very close. Until— okay, remember in high school, junior year? After my volleyball team won a big game.”

“Yeah.” She nods, sitting right before you, “Right before summer.”

“That night, we all got wasted at the hotel and some guy ended up…I dunno. Touching me while I was pretty much blacked out. I woke up to him hovering over me, kissing my neck and just— it was horrifying to have that be the first thing I saw and felt after getting sober from the drinking.”

AJ’s facial expression was indistinguishable, but you continue. “I didn’t known who to tell, so I ended up telling my Mom. Who, told my Dad without my permission. Then, the police showed up at the door, it was a whole mess that week. I know who did it— I always have. The memory started coming back and I knew that guy. But he got away with it. He pleaded not guilty, went to trial. I lost. My parents blamed me for drinking and getting myself into trouble. Since then, everything just kinda spiralled. At the time, Theo and Trish were the only two people in my corner. No one else knew what happened. They’re really just unrelated matters but since that happened, they changed. My parents simply hated me, it’s like they’re disgusted by me. But the drifting apart was pretty gradual so I got used to it. I just hate that they’re that way towards me even though I look at it from their point of view and I get it. But it’s been weighing on my mind, and you deserve to know.”

“Was that why you lived with them senior year?”

“Oh, yeah. Theo already started working and Trish was a senior in college. With both their incomes, they took me out of our parents’ home and let me live with them.” You explained, “It was so much more complicated in my head, but now that that’s out of the way…I just need a few days to forget about that. Work through that, you know? It’s not use being all upset about it now. I don’t want to be caring so much about them that I let them affect my mood when clearly, they couldn’t care less about me.”

“That is just…terrible of them to practically wash their hands off you.” AJ scoffs.

“Baby, don’t get yourself all angry over those two. There’s no point. Let’s just focus on ourselves and those that actually do care.”

“You’re right.” She smooches you on the cheek. “You’ve come a long way and done a lot of work. I’m very proud of you for that. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that. It’s not an easy thing at all to be sharing.”

You cracked a smile. “Thanks, baby.”

————

Seeing some of your family members clicking with AJ so well, so quickly, it seriously made you so happy— the relief you felt was impeccable. “AJ, will you read me a bedtime story?” Aurora comes running up to AJ— and you.

“Sweetie, they’re watching a movie—”

“It’s alright, Trish.” You assured.

You and AJ shared a look before she smiled and agreed. “Yay!” Aurora exclaimed and dragged the two of you by the hand upstairs to her bedroom.

“Good night, sweetie!” Patricia laughs, as did Ezra.

“Night, Mommy. Night, Daddy!”

A good twenty minutes later, Aurora reluctantly agreed to finally sleep. You walked back downstairs with AJ and were met with Theo immediately suggesting that the few of you should go out for the night. “Come on. We’ve been keeping it PG for the whole evening. Let’s go party it up.” Theo laughs.

“Hey, don’t need to look at me. You guys are adults. No curfew over here.” Patricia bit back a laugh, “Go. Have fun.”

“Alright, alright.” You gave in. Theo cheered quietly, gesturing for his husband Dylan to join you all and leave the house.

The destination? A gay bar. Ever since that night in high school, you were very careful around alcohol. So much so that you flat out didn’t drink alcohol in chaotic settings like these. Not all of them knew why, but they didn’t force you— you had two glasses and that was it.

“Which one of you people wants to take the mic tonight, party people?”

“Let’s go do that. Let’s sing.” You grabbed AJ by the arm, causing her to look at you, laughing.

“Sure.” AJ giggles, looking over to the guys.

“y/n, you know I cannot sing.” Your brother pointed at you, “Dylan— you can.”

“Hell yeah.” Dylan agrees and hopped off the stool, heading for the stage with you and AJ.

“Alright, alright! Here we go. First daring ones of the evening. Dylan, AJ and y/n singing ‘It’s Not Christmas Without You’, everyone!”

“So if you feel it comin'

On this special day

Just trust your heart

'Cause I can't wait to hear you say

That it's Christmas

And the start of something new

Well, it's Christmas

And I hope you'll feel it too

Everyone together, sing

Silver bells and golden rings

But all of it means nothing

Without you

No, no no

It's not Christmas (Christmas)

Without you, you, you

It's not Christmas

Without you, you, you

It's not Christmas

Without you, you, you

It's not Christmas without you”

🏷️ Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @reneeswif3 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

[smilingformoney]

Rickmas 2023: Day 10. Snow Prints | Alex/Reader

Read now on Ao3 or below the cut:

The cafe was getting full, but you didn’t pay much attention to the busy chatter around you. You were far too focused on what you were doing. You were sat at a table by a window with your sketchbook laid out on the table, various abandoned attempts at drawing the scene outside strewn across the table.

You were so absorbed in what you were doing, in fact, that you almost didn’t hear the voice of the man who’d approached your table.

“Excuse me - do you mind if I sit at the end here? All the tables are full.”

You glanced up and saw a dashingly handsome man with greying hair and glasses, balancing a pot of tea on a tray and carrying a newspaper under his arm.

“Sure, no problem,” you said, moving your strewn artwork aside to make room for him and his paper. “Sorry, I’m kind of hogging the table, aren’t I?” You looked up and glanced around, only just now noticing that the cafe was a lot busier than when you’d arrived, full of shoppers taking a break from the cold air to warm up with a hot drink. Those that had managed to find a table were blocking walkways with their bags of presents, making you feel a little less guilty about hoarding the table.

“Looks like the Christmas shoppers are out,” you commented. You glanced at the man, who had nothing on him but his paper and his tea, which he was now pouring out for himself. “You chose a bad time to come out.”

“Yes, it seems so,” the man agreed with a polite smile. “So did you.”

He glanced down at the drawings strewn across the table.

“You’re an artist!” he said, and he went to turn one of the drawings around towards him, but you pulled it back quickly.

“That’s a rubbish one. I’m trying to practise drawing snowscapes, but I’m struggling to make the snow look like snow.” You pointed to the ‘snow’ in the pencil drawing, which just looked like the normal ground. “See? Rubbish.”

“No, I don’t think so,” said the man, still peering over at the drawing. “You just need to add something to show depth. Footprints, maybe.” He pointed out the window. “See, the snow out there’s not smooth. It’s covered in footprints.”

You looked out of the window thoughtfully. Maybe he was right.

“Footprints. Good idea. Thanks, erm —“

The man stuck his hand out to you. “Alex Hughes.”

“[Y/n] [L/n],” you replied, taking his hand in yours, and in the brief few moments of contact his large, warm hands enveloped yours completely.

“Nice to meet you, Alex Hughes. I’ll remember that name so I can credit you when this ends up on the wall of the Tate Modern.”

Alex laughed, and when he did his whole face lit up, the laughter lines around his eyes making him look even more handsome. He turned his attention to unfolding his newspaper, and you buried your head back in your drawing, trying to incorporate a set of footprints into the scene.

After some time had passed, you sat up straight, examining your handiwork.

“The footprints were a good idea,” you said, mostly to yourself.

Alex looked up from his newspaper and glanced over.

“May I see?” he asked.

You turned the sketchbook around. At the same time, he reached across the table to pull it closer to him, and his hand accidentally knocked against your half-drunk cup of cold coffee, tipping it over and spilling the contents over your drawings and your lap.

You both swore loudly, drawing some attention from nearby shoppers, though none of them stepped in to help. You jumped up, grabbing your sketchbook to try and save it from the river of coffee running down the table, but it was too late.

Alex apologised profusely and grabbed a napkin from his tray to try and mop up the spillage, but it was like trying to dry a river with a kitchen sponge. A staff member appeared with a box of cleaning equipment, and Alex took the proffered handful of blue roll to start trying to pat down the soaked paper.

“[Y/n], I am so sorry,” Alex said for the fifth time. “I’ve completely ruined them —“

“It’s fine, honestly, they were only practice drawings. I’m more worried about this…”

You indicated the dark brown smudge on your nice cream jumper, and Alex sighed with irritation at himself.

“Oh, look what I’ve done! Here —“

He gathered up another handful of blue roll and began dabbing at your jumper, though it didn’t make much difference.

“I’m so sorry, [Y/n], I’m such a clumsy fool.” He threw his hands up in despair when he realised the stain wasn’t coming out of your jumper.

You pulled the jumper over your head to better allow you to examine the stain.

“I’d better get home and get it straight in the wash before it sets in,” you said.

“Here, let me give you something in case you have to get a new one,” Alex started, pulling his wallet from his pocket, but you shook your head.

“No, don’t be silly. Accidents happen.”

“Well, I’ve got to do something. I can’t just ruin your jumper and your drawings and let you go without making it up to you.”

You glanced down at his left hand, which was still holding his wallet and was noticeably without a wedding ring.

“You could buy me a drink,” you said hopefully.

“Well, that’s a given, of course, I’ll get you another drink —“ Alex started, gesturing back at the bar.

“No, I mean, like… an alcoholic drink? At a bar? Later tonight? If… you wanted to, that is.”

Alex froze, looking at you curiously as the meaning of your words set in, and you wondered if you could blame the cold winter air blowing in through the open door for the redness that was no doubt flushing up your cheeks.

“Oh… er, alright, then,” Alex agreed awkwardly. He steeled himself, then added, “How about dinner too?”

You smiled, your eyes lighting up. “Yes, that’d be great. Here, let me give you my number.”

You tore off a corner of the top page of your sketchbook (the part that wasn’t soaked in coffee) and wrote down your number with the pencil you’d been drawing with.

“Call me in a few hours and we can arrange something. I live just outside of town so I can get pretty much anywhere.”

Alex took the piece of paper from you and put it safely in his wallet where it wouldn’t be in danger of another stray coffee spillage. You gathered up your sketchbook, holding it carefully in one hand and your stained jumper in the other.

“Well, er… see you later, then. Thanks for the footprint idea. It worked really well until you turned the snow all brown.”

“Yes. I’ll call you. And sorry again for the…” He pointed at your ruined things, and you just laughed.

“It’s okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

With one last shy smile at him, you left the cafe, hoping you had something nice to wear later. With a smile like that, you’d let Alex Hughes spill any amount of coffee on you just to see him laugh again.

[foster-the-world]

Thanksgiving was more stressful then fun. Which is lame of me because I have to do zero cooking/planning. We have it so easy compared to other people. Not sure why its still hard. We had the nephews over the night before for a sleepover. They are great kids but were both tired/grumpy. Which resulted in lot of normal but still annoying behavior. Bee also woke everyone up an hour earlier than normal. Then I could tell the sleepover was a bad idea for baby boy. He slept fine but too many people in our house seems to be really not good for him. He was terrrible on the car ride to my inlaws. I made him stay in the car and take a nap. Everyone felt bad for me because I missed dinner but I was quite happy in the car. Baby boy was fine after that, thankfully. The kids were happy. My inlaws who planned a really nice meal were happy. So overall a good day, even if I felt more stressed then normal.

I'm all in for Christmas. Elfie arrived last night. Kids each got an advent calendar. We watched Jingle Jangle. I attempted to do mimic the main character's hair style for Bee. We picked out our Christmas tree and had it delivered. Still need to get the decorations/ornaments from the apt building basement so we can decorate. So happy I ended up taking off six work days for Christmas. We will fly to my parents for 12 days. Going to be there for New Year's, also. I find being at my parents the most restful time of the year for me. I'm really looking forward to it. I hope baby boy can enjoy and be his sweet self. He keeps confirming we will get "12 family days for Christmas." My Mom and Aunt are coming the week before Christmas. We are going to do Macy's Santa, the windows, the Rockettes, a trip Upstate. My favorite time of year.

The girls wrote their letters to Santa. One asked for a ninetendo switch. That's a hard no for me. My nephews brought theirs for the sleepover. It only caused fights over whose turn it was. The girls have ipads that they only use on vacation. They watch plenty of TV but I don't want them to have their own devices regularly.

Husband is taking them ice skating with friends. Then they will do an early dinner. I'm happy to keep baby boy home with me. I think giving him quiet/alone time at home on Sunday night helps set him up for a better week at school. I get bored with playdoh or sand but he doesn't.

I'm going to the book club for the "Friday afternoon club" tmrw night. I didn't finish the book but think hearing from the author will be good.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 5: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (2/3)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Word Count: 2547

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

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Chapter 2: Walking in a Winter Wonderland

Notes: This story was originally written in 2014.

“Looks like your boyfriend learned about Christmas,” David said dryly as he pushed open the sheriff’s station door.           

Emma elbowed her way past her father to have a look and then barked out a laugh.  A veritable forest of mistletoe hung above her desk and chair.  David was right; it couldn’t be the work of anyone but her adorable idiot of a pirate.

“Although if he really wanted to get you to kiss him,” David continued, draping his winter coat over the back of his own chair, “he would have hung it inside one of the jail cells.  We left the station locked when we went on rounds, so I’m pretty sure this qualifies as breaking and entering.”

Emma grinned.  “Cut him some slack, Dad.  There are far, far worse things he could have done, don’t you think?”

“That depends,” David replied with a frown.

“Yeah?  On what?”

“Whether or not he makes use of the mistletoe when I’m around.”

Emma laughed again, still amazed at the happiness that was her life at the moment.  Seriously, who would have thought that Emma Swan, the unloved, unwanted orphan would one day have to deal with an overzealous pirate boyfriend and an overprotective father?

“I’ll make him behave,” Emma promised.  “At least while you’re around.”

David grimaced.  “You had to tack on that last part?”

“Yep,” Emma replied, taking a seat.  “Deal with it Dad; your little girl’s dating a pirate.  Bound to be some…um…misbehavior.  Probably on both our parts.”

David groaned.

Her dad put up a good show, but Emma knew that’s all it was—a show.  The bromance was strong with these two.  Emma didn’t know who was happier that her relationship with Killian was still going strong, her or her dad.

A month had passed since Gold’s sorcerer’s hat stunt, and they were all still reeling from it to various extents.  She’d had nightmares about it every night for a solid two weeks following the incident.  Nightmares where they didn’t make it in time.  Nightmares where she, her mom and Belle arrived at the clock tower a moment after Gold had finished crushing Killian’s heart into a fine powder.  She’d woken up shaking and bathed in sweat. 

If Gold had succeeded…she couldn’t even bring herself to finish the sentence.  The very thought scared her more than anything in her life had ever scared her.

It was in that moment when she was frozen in place, helpless to protect Killian, that she gave up the last bit of pretense.  She loved him; there was no denying it.  Just the sight of him was enough to make the butterflies start tap dancing in her stomach.

“What do you think of my first attempt at decorating for the season?” 

Speak of the devil. 

Killian strode in with the confidence (and looks) of a fashion model.  He leaned down, brushed a kiss against her cheek and then straightened with the grin she’d come to learn meant trouble.

“Not bad,” she said, “but you know people usually just hang one sprig of mistletoe, not a whole garden.”

He tsked, and frowned at her playfully.  “And where would be the fun in that?  I’d prefer to increase my chances of finding myself under it with a fetching lass rather than limit them.”

He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her.  “Speaking of which, it appears you and I are currently standing beneath a particularly hearty specimen.  Holiday traditions must be observed, darling.  Good form and all.”

She grinned and looped her arms around his neck.  “So what are you waiting for?”

His smile turned distinctly wicked.  “Not a thing in the world, love.”

A wildfire raged between them at the first touch of his lips to hers.  It was always like this between them; like someone had tossed a lit match on a mountain of dry kindling.  Emma tilted her head, instantly deepening the kiss, reveling in the feel of his hand in her hair anchoring her to him, his hook at her back urging her closer.

David cleared his throat.  Loudly.  Whatever adjectives could be used to describe her father, “subtle” was not one of them.  Emma pulled away with an apologetic look at her boyfriend, then turned to face her dad.  Killian reached down and laced his fingers with hers.

“You guys mind?” David asked with a hint of exasperation.  “This is a place of business after all.”

“Funny,” Killian said with a smirk, “you seemed to be singing an entirely different tune that night last week when I walked in to find you and your lovely wife similarly expressing your affection.”

David spluttered.  “That’s…that’s different!”

“Aye?  How so?”

“It’s different because…because…well, because it just is.”

Killian laughed with such good humor that soon even David joined in.  “Look,” her father finally said, “I’m glad you two are happy together, I really am, but could you keep the PDA to a minimum while I’m around?  Please?”

Killian sketched a bow.  “I shall endeavor to control myself, but confronted with your daughter’s ravishing beauty, I am, more often than not, unable to express my admiration any other way.”

Emma laughed and swatted him playfully.  “You are so full of it.”

“Aye,” he returned with a flirtatious wink, “but I noticed you failed to put up a protest at my ‘PDA’ a moment ago.”

“I’ll admit,” she returned, placing her free hand over his heart, a gesture she found herself making more and more frequently since his ordeal with Gold, “kissing you is kind of addicting.  So, what’s up?  We weren’t supposed to meet for lunch for another hour or so.”

“I’ve come to steal you away, love,” He said, giving her hand a squeeze.  “The snow has bathed the woods in a blanket of loveliness, and I wish to share it with my favorite lass.”

“I can’t just go take a stroll in the woods,” Emma said.  “For one thing, it’s cold.  For another, I’ve got work to do.  And did I mention, it’s cold?”

The look on his face was two parts puppy and one part wicked.  “If we don’t go, I’ll be forced to hang around and, no doubt, nauseate your father.  We wouldn’t want that, now would we?  Besides, I’m…more than capable of keeping you warm.”

“Ugh,” David said.  “Emma just go with him.  I’ll cover for you.”

“Well,” Emma said, grabbing her coat and hat, “if you both insist…”

“We do,” David and Killian said in unison.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Emma had to admit it was beautiful and peaceful out here. And with Killian’s arm draped around her, surprisingly warm as well.  On impulse, she reached up and pecked him on the cheek. 

“And what was that delightful gesture for, Swan?”

She shrugged.  “No reason.  Just…thank you.  You were right.  It’s nice to get away from the craziness of the town for a while.”

He smiled, making the crow’s feet stand at attention at the edges of his eyes.  “Darling, when are you going to finally realize that I’m always right?”

Emma rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep the grin from her face.  “Don’t hold your breath, pirate.”

“Thought as much,” Killian muttered under his breath.

Emma had never been a big fan of winter.  She hated the cold, and the snow drove her crazy—especially now that she was the sheriff and was called to every fender bender and slide-off in the whole damn town.  Killian, however, seemed to have an entirely different opinion on the matter.  His face was lit up with the wonder and awe of a child as he trudged through the ankle-deep snow and watched the flurries continue to drift down.

“You seem to be enjoying this weather,” she observed, reaching up to feather her fingers through his hair and dislodge the stubborn snowflakes that had evidently decided to take up residence there.

“Aye,” he said, looking down at her with a delighted grin.  “Always reminds me of a day I spent with Liam many, many years ago.”

Emma perked up at the mention of Killian’s brother.  “You never talk about him.  I always assumed the memories were too painful for you.”

Killian smiled tenderly.  “Aye, some memories are.  It seems no matter how many centuries go by, the sting of his passing will never truly fade.  I do, however, have many, many pleasant memories of him, and the day we spent in the snow is certainly one of those.”

“Would you tell me about it?”

“Of course,” he complied without hesitation.  “It was one of the last good memories I had of my family.  My mum died the following year, and my father was never the same after her passing.  At any rate, I was but a wee lad at the time, five, maybe six years old.  Liam was a good ten years my senior and I nearly worshiped him.  He’d just informed me that he would be leaving in less than a fortnight upon his first ship; I no longer recall her name.  He was to be a cabin boy and I’ve rarely seen a lad so excited.  I was, of course, devastated that my brother, my hero, would be leaving me in a matter of days.”

“I can only imagine,” Emma soothed.  Killian felt things so deeply; his entire heart and soul were invested when he loved.  Liam’s departure must have hit him hard.

“Aye,” he said with a grimace.  “Anyway, on the day in question, Liam woke me, excited about the newly fallen snow.  We two spent the entire day reveling in it—making snowmen and snow fortifications.  Engaging in a rather ruthless snowball fight.  It was a day I wouldn’t trade for all the rum in the Enchanted Forest.”

“It sounds great.”

“Aye, that it was.”

They lapsed into silence for a time.  Emma rested her head against his shoulder, and she felt him brush a kiss against the crown of her head.

“So how was your breakfast with Henry?” Emma asked.

“Informative,” Killian said, and Emma could hear the smile in his voice.  “The lad is a wealth of information.  He seems quite excited for this Christmas holiday.”

Emma sighed.  “Yeah.  Seems like it’s all he can talk about.”

Killian looked over at her.  “From your tone, I take it you don’t share his sentiments?”

“No.”  The word was definitive, emphatic.

“The lad told me as much,” Killian admitted.  “He was concerned that you seem unwilling to participate in this realm’s Christmas traditions.”

Emma grimaced.  “I was hoping it would be enough for him to get all the Christmas crap at Regina’s or my mom and dad’s.”

Killian stopped walking and turned her toward him.  “The lad didn’t come to me because he needs more Christmas; he came to me because he’s worried about you.”

Henry was worried about her?  Because of Christmas?  “He doesn’t need to be.  I’m fine.”

Killian looked at her skeptically.  “Swan, I’ve seen you ‘fine’.  I’ve seen you happy.  I’ve seen you content.  You are feeling none of those emotions.  This ‘Christmas’ is obviously a source of pain for you.  Please, tell me why that is.”

Emma sighed.  There really was no point trying to hide anything from this man.  “It’s just…I don’t know.  Christmas is all about family and happiness and being together and stuff.”

“And these are bad things?”  At some point, Killian brought his good hand up to cup her face, and he was gently caressing her cheek with his thumb. 

“No…”  Emma drew out the syllable.  “Not in general, but for an unwanted little girl in the group homes it was torture.  I mean, everywhere you turned you’d get assaulted with images of happy little families doing happy little family things.  Every time you turned on the TV you’d see commercials and movies and everything else where everyone was perfectly happy and enjoying each other’s company.  The songs talk about it being the happiest time of the year, or about how people love going home for the holidays or the love of family.  You know what it was for me?  It was a slap in the face.  It was yet another reminder that I’d never had that and probably never would.”

The compassion in Killian’s eyes nearly broke her.  He dropped his hand from her face and gathered her into his arms, holding her tight.  She clung to him, drinking in the love he offered her.

“Emma,” he whispered., “there are so many, many people who love you.  So many, many people who would do anything to make you happy.”

The tears rushed to her eyes.  “I know, and it means everything in the world to me.  It’s just—I don’t know.  Childhood memories die hard.  I don’t know if I can even do all the ‘happy family Christmas’ stuff.”

“But you said it yourself, love,” Killian reasoned, stroking her hair.  “Christmas isn’t about perfectly fulfilling the traditions you’re accustomed to.  It’s not about living up to the standards you believe the ‘perfect’ families attained.  It’s not about fulfilling a checklist of Christmas items.  It’s about being with the ones you love; showing them how much you care.”

Killian pulled away.  “Let us love you,” he said simply.  “Let us show you how much you mean to all of us.  Let us build our own traditions, our own memories.  Perhaps they won’t erase the pain of the past, but trust me love, the good memories, the beautiful moments—they shine as brightly as the star Leroy attempted to force me to place on the top of Granny’s tree—if you but let them.  They are like the sun that blots out the light of the stars.  Losing Liam to dreamshade—it was one of the darkest days of my life.  The pain of losing my brother, the man who was captain and brother and hero to me, was such that words cannot describe.  Even so, traumatic as that day was, it cannot hold a candle to the simple joy of that day spent playing in the snow. ”

“I wish I’d met Liam,” Emma said with a wistful smile.

“As do I love,” Killian said.  “He would have liked you—and would have thanked his lucky stars that I’d finally found myself a beautiful blonde savior to point me back to the man I wish to be.”

Emma stroked his face.  “He’d be proud of you, Killian.  You’re a good man; one of the best and most honorable I know.”

Killian turned his head and brushed a kiss against her palm.  “You can have no idea how sweet those words sound coming from your lips.  I have but one bit of advice for you, love: don’t run from the love of family and the joys of Christmas all around you.  Make new memories, good memories.  I can promise you; you won’t regret it.”

Emma reached up and brushed a soft kiss against his lips.  “Maybe you’re right.”

“Again with the skepticism, darling?  Didn’t we just establish I’m always right?”

Emma chuckled.  “Whatever.  I’m hungry.  Are you going to take me to lunch or not?”

Killian sketched a bow.  “My lady’s wish is my command.”

–Up next, Emma and Killian return to her apartment after the town’s Christmas Eve party.

NEXT CHAPTER->

[randomfoggytiger]

"You're Not Here, Dana-- You're a Million Miles Away"

Part IV of the Bill Scully POV mini-series (Part I, Part II, Part III~.)

Bill's POV during A Christmas Carol.

*****

He didn’t know what had gone wrong.

At the airport, Dana had been fine. She'd been chatting, laughing even, fresh off the plane, debating some feminine topic with their mother as the two wheeled their luggage closer and closer to the exit. Catching his eye, she’d lit up-- like a firecracker, as Melissa used to say-- and even quickened her pace to soak up “a Big Brother Bill hug”-- something else Melissa used to say but which had rubbed off on the rest of the family. 

Maggie had deferred the passenger side seat; and the three of them chit chatted and caught up on the drive to the base. They’d asked spirited questions about Tara; and Bill, per his wife’s specific instructions, had refused to give away any hints about how big she’d gotten. 

“He’s a dad already,” smirked Dana; and the teasing and good-natured snipes had trailed after them until they turned the last corner. 

Everyone had been delighted with each other, Tara had had her fun surprising her guests, and no one had seemed bothered about the sleeping arrangements. 

It was the phone call that did it, he realized: Dana had come charging up the stairs, tense and distraught, insisting that Bill drive her someplace that he knew she’d never been before. Somewhere he’d never been before, either. 

“I heard her-- I heard Melissa’s voice-- and I have to know what is going on. And the only answers I’ll have is if we go, right now, and find out who was on the other line.” 

He'd taken her, of course-- he’d taken her despite how crazy her story sounded, waited outside the crime scene until Dana finished poking around, then driven her home. She’d remained tight-lipped about what had happened; but that was to be expected-- nothing had come from their detour other than a sense of confused embarrassment-- and they’d both silently moved on from it as soon as possible. 

It was after the phone call that she'd begun to withdraw.  

*****

Tara went to bed early: up at four and likely tidying and cleaning until their guests arrived after noon, the day had caught up with her-- so Bill supposed-- after the last of her luxurious dessert disappeared from the plate. That, and Dana sat quietly through the meal, seeming bruised rather than pleased during his wife’s happy monologue at dinner. 

“Bill, is everything okay with Dana?” she’d sighed as he helped maneuver her around the temporarily cramped room. “She’s been awful quiet since you two returned from the crime scene.” 

“I think she’ll be okay. Dana’s probably processing.” 

“So I didn’t offend her?”

Bill stopped pulling the quilt back, turning to see how badly Tara’s feelings had been hurt. “It’s the case, Honey, don’t worry about it. You know how I get about work sometimes--”

“But Bill, this seems different. Maybe she was hurt, somehow, by what I was saying about a family or becoming a mom; or she feels guilty because Melissa’s not here.”

“If it’s more than just the case, Mom’ll get it out of her; and if it’s about us, Mom'll let us know. I don't think there's cause for worry, Sweetheart.” 

Tara sighed, sat down on the bed, and reluctantly smiled as he bent to take off her comfortable house shoes. “You’re so good to me, Bill. I just want this Christmas to be perfect-- it’s the first since… well, a few firsts since.”

“The past few holidays have been hard on us Scullys; however, I’m convinced we’re due a really, really good one.”

“Baby here included?”

“I thought he was a New Year's baby.”

“You’d better hope it’s a boy then, Bill Jr., because the Scully women seem to have a mind of their own.” 

He nodded, grabbing her empty glass to refill downstairs. “Still thinking of Melissa for the name?”

She smiled, reaching out to catch his arm and pull him closer. “As long as we’re still thinking of Matthew for a boy.” 

*****

Melissa was an inescapable topic this Christmas. She lingered like a benevolent ghost, lounging on the sofa from the corner of his eye or twinkling companionably from the photographs displayed around the house. 

The creaking floorboard, however, was a reminder that Dana, not Melissa, was up and wandering. It was after midnight at least, but she was probably still on East Coast time, Bill assumed; or, of course, she was taking a private call and would be flying out when it was light. Try as he might, the thought that his remaining sister would be called back to work with Mulder-- away from her family, over the holidays, after a miraculous cancer remission-- made his blood boil. 

He waited up after the Jeep drove off, arguing himself out of calling Ethan Minette back to retract his retraction. 

Dana had never been good at sneaking out; and he listened to her tiptoe back in before sunrise, settle in the dining room, and stay there as the minutes then hours ticked by. 

The morning newspaper thudded against the front door, the sun began to rise, Bill slid down before his military wife or mother could wake and start the day. 

“Dana?”

*****

He knew disappointment should be second-nature by now with Dana and promises she couldn’t keep. Likely, the sting was keener because Melissa, for as flaky as she’d been, had never pretended or promised to be someone she wasn’t: she wandered in and out of their lives whenever the mood struck but always with a tenderness to their fixed positions. Even Charlie didn’t hide who he was or what he’d decided behind a false front. Meanwhile, Dana passed herself off as stalwart and dependable before jerking left and ditching medical school, the FBI mainstream, and familial obligations.

“Alright,” he’d agreed. “Lunch!” And she hadn’t agreed; and left. 

Although this was her work and her business, it was quickly becoming the family's problem: Tara, puzzled by this impossible situation, did her best to distract Maggie by hostessing her around; and Maggie, tight lipped whenever Dana’s name came up, tried to talk over ruffled feelings and assure everyone Dana would be there for the Christmas party, of course, so nice to meet friends of Tara’s, they were such nice people, reminded me of the Stotes family we knew in ‘75, remember them, Bill? 

It was the Scullys' first Christmas after so much grief and miraculous second chances-- his and Tara’s as much as Dana’s-- and still, Dana flaked.  

“It’s work, Honey. You know how that is,” Tara reassured, taking on the previous night's role of comforter. “God and country come first in your jobs.” 

It wasn’t country Dana was putting first. Or God. 

Bill kept these thoughts to himself, letting Tara pull back the covers for him tonight. He even smiled when she promised to refill his empty glass of water after New Year’s.

“After New Year’s,” he agreed.   

*****

Dana left with Detective Kresge before Bill finished an insignificant morning errand. 

“She didn’t even say hello to you or Tara, just left? I thought she wanted this vacation, Mom.” 

“Dana does, Bill. She’s just… going through a hard time right now.” 

“And she  doesn’t want to share that with us? Just wants to sleep here most nights and leave in the morning before I can even say ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’?”

And it had come tumbling out. Dana and Maggie, huddled at the table mere hours ago, denying and insisting about PCR tests and a long-lost Scully daughter. 

“I know Melissa, Bill-- she would’ve never had a child without telling me. Dana is using a 60% possibility to justify her denial because she sees this little girl as a chance that… a chance that was taken away from her. And,” she paused, gripping her arms and steeling her voice, “and I know my babies. I know myself. There were so many small things after your father passed… sometimes, I’d see him from the corner of my eye, smiling at me; or I’d hear his voice late at night, announcing his sudden arrival back from deployment.”

“But, Mom--”

“Yes, I know they weren’t real; but there are things that feel real, and your sister is struggling with them right now. This Christmas has been hard, Bill, as much as we do our best to make it a beautiful time for you and Tara and the baby. Dana has more than the loss of her father and her sister to wrestle with.” 

*****

The day passed in preparation for the evening’s party, more decorations and more food and more people filling up the space before Bill could take a moment to relax. An innocent remark about his late father flew completely over his sister’s head; and, tired of walking on eggshells, he asked her to help him in the kitchen. 

Careful Billy, you meddler, Melissa used to tease. Perhaps that was her version of wisdom; and perhaps he should have remembered it before his directness came across as accusation, slipping from one point of irritation to the next without tact or grace.

You know Dana hates how direct we are, Billy: it shoves her into a corner that she can’t escape from.

It’s never stopped you, he'd said.

Yeah, well, why do you think she doesn’t ask me for advice very often? she'd replied, poking him companionably.

Bill mumbled their back and forth, alone, with somber fondness.

*****

He’d been given the picture shortly after Melissa became a more permanent fixture in their lives. 

“It’s a good one, isn’t it? Had it taken before… you know.” 

They’d been sitting in his rattrap apartment listening to Tara prattle to one of her girlfriends about how happy she was to unpack the last of their things-- relaxed and hearty and if not happy then something close to it. Their little sister’s abduction and return had unsettled them, unsettled him; and her quick recovery and dogged insistence on going back to work soon, too soon, had rankled him. But Bill had finally given in and called up Dana at Melissa’s insistence-- the wound, though it remained, was healing. 

“I never understood why you left for so long without at least calling more than once in a while.”

“Bill, I just… I needed to resettle after Dad died. You all were there for Mom, even Charlie; but I….” She shrugged, changing the topic by pointing at the photograph. “My friend took that right before I had to jump in the car to go. She said, ‘Think of a beautiful memory and I’ll capture it forever’; and the most beautiful thing I thought of in that moment was the smile you flashed me after I threw an orange right between Harry Pinklewhit’s eyes.” 

He’d laughed in spite of her non-answer; and their conversation drew Tara in, who’d also laughed at nine-year-old Melissa’s incredible throwing arm. 

Bill didn’t feel like smiling when he’d handed over that photograph to Dana, the question of Melissa's legacy laid to rest in the replica of his sisters' girlhood bedroom. He and Tara, his mother, and Melissa had been where Dana now stood; and, despite some necessary pain, the facts would give her an opportunity to accept and grieve her loss.

Standing in the doorway while Dana, rebellion and determination in her eyes, slid past him with the social worker, Bill wondered when-- or if-- that acceptance would begin. 

***** 

The three had resolved not to question Dana further. If she was pursuing adoption, then a decision would be finalized either way; and in the end, it was just the four of them.

“Five”, Bill amended; and Tara had teared up and given him a big hug.

Determined to have a good time on Christmas morning, even if the youngest Scully might get up and walk out on a moment’s notice, they’d flocked in, woken Dana, and pounced on the presents before she’d completely defogged-- a strategy unintentionally spearheaded by Tara. Seizing an opportunity, Bill swept along beside her, kneeling down to hand over the biggest present she'd been drooling over for the past month. His mother gravitated to Dana, snuggling up next to her on the couch; and teamwork or group effort or separate but uniting plots seemed to successfully keep his sister from bolting. 

Until he’d gleefully stumbled to the door and inadvertently shepherded in Dana’s latest twist in the case.  

“According to this… I… am Emily’s mother.” 

And what could anyone say to that?

*****

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic!

[lostinwoso]

Christmas Surprise (Mapi León x Reader)

A late Christmas fic, made from this request.

It’s the first training session in December, so the main topic in the locker room today is what everyone has planned for Christmas. Since you and Mapi haven’t talked about that topic yet, you try to dodge those questions as good as you can, knowing that it’s something you should probably talk about with your girlfriend in private first. 

You and Mapi started dating thanks to a kiss at the last New Year's Eve party that the team held together, which is why the topic of celebrating Christmas hasn’t come up before.

Your girlfriend noticed your silence during the conversation in the locker room, so as soon as training was done and you two are now on the way back to her apartment, she decides to bring the topic up, “So, what is the plan for Christmas? Are we going to celebrate together?”.

“I was planning on going home for Christmas? I never missed a Christmas at home, it’s like a tradition for me to go home for it.”, you admit, hoping that Mapi won’t be upset or mad at you for not mentioning it earlier. 

“That’s alright.”.

“It is?”.

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”.

“I don’t know, I thought you might be upset about me telling you so late.”, you admit.

Mapi places her hand on your thigh, “Mi corazón, it’s literally the beginning of December, so you are totally not late. And I understand that you want to celebrate it at home, of course Christmas is not going to be as much fun without you, but it’s fine. We can have our own little celebration when you are back.”, she reassures you.

“Thank you for being so understanding, te amo.”.

“Yo también te amo.”.

___

The next few weeks leading up to Christmas you two went through a couple of different stores, trying to find the perfect gifts for each of your respective family members to give. 

After getting the last gift for one of Mapi’s cousins, you two decided to end the shopping trip with a stop at your both favorite café. 

“I’m so happy we finally got gifts for everyone, this was more exhausting than I expected it to be.”, your girlfriend huffs out before taking a sip from the coffee she ordered. 

“I agree.”, you reply, just as happy that the whole Christmas shopping stress is finally over.

“I was thinking we could wrap the presents together, the day before you leave, we could order some food after and watch some movies.”, Mapi suggests. 

“That sounds great.”, you say, making Mapi smile.

You both finished your warm drinks, already on the way to the defender's car, when a thought comes up in your mind, “Wait, do we have enough wrapping paper for all the gifts?”.

Mapi comes to a stop at your question, thinking about it for a moment before she lets out a groan and takes your hand to walk back to one of the many busy stores in the city to get the wrapping paper you two would need.

___

Just as planned, you two are now sitting in the middle of Mapi’s living room, on the floor, to wrap all the presents you bought over the December weeks. 

“Why does yours look so much better than mine?”, your girlfriend whines, glancing between your neatly wrapped gift before her eyes settle back to the messy attempt in front of her.

You can’t stop the chuckle that leaves you, when you see how she tried to wrap the gift, making her pout, “You are using the wrong technique.”.

“Show me?”.

After showing her the easiest way to wrap a present up, the first few still looked a bit crooked but still way better than before, before she really got the hang of it. Wrapping the presents up was faster done than you two expected with the amount you two bought for your families, but the light music in the background and the little break where Mapi’s cats decided to join in the fun and started to play with the gift ribbon, made the time fly by. 

You two were placing the presents into bags, when the doorbell rings, meaning that the food you ordered arrived, “I’ll go.”, you say, grabbing your wallet on the way to the door to tip the delivery person. While you were getting the food, Mapi continued to pack both your gifts in the respective bags.

So with that out of the way, you both took the food and got comfortable on the couch, ready to end the evening with some nice movies. 

During the second movie, you notice your girlfriend checking her phone with a huge smile on her face, “What got you smiling like that?”. 

“That’s a surprise.”, the defender answers, turning her phone off with a cheeky smile before pulling you into her embrace. 

 “A good surprise?”.

“I would say so, yea.”.

You tried to pry some info out of your girlfriend about the ‘surprise’ she seems to have planned, but no matter what you tried to get her to open up, nothing seemed to work. So after a few failed attempts, you decided to give up and just enjoy the night before you would split for the next few days. 

The next morning, Mapi and you said your goodbyes, with your girlfriend acting a little more dramatic than it really is, before you made your way home for Christmas. 

What you don’t know is that as soon as you left, Mapi started to get ready for the surprise she had planned. The defender grabbed the bag of gifts and made her own way to her family, but unlike you, she would already celebrate the holiday as soon as she arrived. 

She managed to convince her family to hold an early Christmas celebration, so she could visit you at your home, wanting to spend the day together with the person she loves. 

___

The morning of Christmas, you and your family had a big breakfast together before it was time to move onto the presents. As you started to place the gifts you brought under the tree, you noticed that one was missing. Confused, you counted every single one you had already taken out, but no matter how often you counted, one was still missing. 

After checking if it might have ended up falling out and is somewhere in your old childhood room, only to end with nothing again, you started to get upset. It was the present for your mother, one you knew she wanted for a long time.

 “What’s wrong?”, your mother asks you, when she notices how defeated you look after coming back down the stairs.

“I forgot your present at Mapi’s place.”, you admit, letting yourself fall into the empty space on the couch next to her. 

“But that’s alright, you can just give it to me next time.”, she tries to reassure you.

“But that’s not the same.”.

Before your mother can speak up again, the rest of your family comes into the living room, ready to open up the gifts, when suddenly the doorbell rings. Confused, you look around the room to see if anyone is missing, but no one is. What you don’t notice is that you seem to be the only one confused by the interruption.

“Can you go?”, your mother asks you.

“Do I have to? I’m really not in the mood.”, you state, but the look she sends you leaves no room for discussion, so you stand up to make your way to the door and open it.

“Hello?”, you greet while opening, but when you see your girlfriend standing there you are at a loss for words, definitely not having her expected to be here. 

Your girlfriend starts to smile at your reaction before holding up her hand, “I think you forgot something.”. 

Looking at her hand, you see her holding the present for your mother, “I- what?”, you stammer out confused while taking the gift out of her hand. 

You glance between her and the gift a few times before you really realize that she is truly there, standing in front of you, but as soon as the realization comes, you pull her into a tight hug, “What are you doing here?”.

“That’s your surprise, plus you forgot the present.”, she replies, holding you just as tight. 

“Best surprise ever, and thank you.”.

After holding onto each other for a moment longer, you two go back inside to join your family, who were waiting for you to come back to open the presents. The upset expression you held before is now completely replaced by happiness, thanks to your girlfriend's surprise.