#I just wanted to get this post out there before I continue working on other stuff-

[starlightkun]

⇢ word count: 16.3k ⇢ genre: fluff, college au, brother's best friend trope, christmas/holiday themed, baseball player!jisung, rich kids!reader and chenle, part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon ⇢ warnings: chenle and reader are annoying as hell together lol (they love each other but would die before saying ily), everyone’s parents suck!, only minor proof-reading bc i wanted to post for christmas, FAKE pro baseball players mentioned (idk anything abt baseball and was not going to research any real baseball players and be wrong abt them ok) ⇢ extra info: this is part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon, three short, unrelated fics starring jisung all with cheesy hallmark christmas movie-esque premises. there’s no continuing plotline between fics in this series, they’re all standalone fics ⇢ author’s note: ok so this one isn’t exactly “short” but as always, i got carried away. im just happy i got this one out in time and it didn’t end up being 20k+ lmao. anyway, this is my last fic of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon, and of 2024, and i hope you guys had as much fun reading them as i did writing them! happy holidays and i will be back with even more fics in 2025! ⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon

“I know what you’ve been trying to do this whole time. You’re not ‘very into baseball,’ you’re into Jisung.”

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 20

Clicking the ‘submit’ button for your last final paper of the semester, you let out a sigh of relief. You were done, for now. The time in the corner of your laptop read 10:58 p.m. You’d submitted with an hour to spare. Usually, you hated cutting it so close, but four of your five classes this semester had assigned fifteen-page papers, and you wanted to take your time researching, outlining, drafting, and editing all of them before the deadlines.

There were only a few other students scattered around the library so late on the last academic day of the semester. One table away from you was another student, a boy who had also been hard at work on his laptop for the greater part of the past four hours. You had seen him around campus, not in any meaningful way, but enough that his face was familiar to you. And tonight, you had been stealing glances at him—when he let out a groan or a sigh that rang a little too loud in the dead silence, pushed his hoodie off his head to reveal his dark hair and handsome features, or stood up from his chair to go to the vending machine around the corner and walk around the library to stretch his obscenely long legs. Yeah, you’d done a bit of ogling, you also needed a break every now and then.

He was still typing away at his laptop when you had packed up for the night and were heading out, your path taking you right by his table. You were never usually this bold, but maybe it was the rush from finally being done with finals week, or how late it was, but you found yourself stopping next to the end seat the cute boy was occupying.

Upon realizing that you were there, he looked at you with wide, uncertain eyes, slowly taking his headphones off. “Hm?”

“Are you going to be here till closing?” You asked him knowingly, a playful smile on your lips and bag of gummy candy in your hands. You had bought it during a vending machine break earlier in the night but never ended up opening it.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m hoping only another thirty minutes…”

“Here.” You offered the candies out to him. “I’m done for the night.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You set them down next to his laptop. Not wanting to take up any more of his waning time left to submit his assignment, you started off towards the exit again. “Good luck. Have a good break.”

“You too…”

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 21

“You didn’t get his number?!” Your roommate gasped in horror after you told her about the cute guy from the library. She had been asleep when you got home last night, and now the two of you were packing in preparation for your respective winter break plans. Sooyoung was heading back home while you and your brother would be driving to meet your parents at your family’s winter house in the mountains.

“Or his name,” you confirmed sadly. “I mean, the poor guy only had an hour left of the semester to submit whatever he was working on, there was no way he would’ve wanted me wasting it.”

“You have got to find him when we get back.”

“I’ll try,” you agreed.

There was a long honk from outside your dorm, and you rolled your eyes before peering out your window. Sure enough, your brother’s sleek black SUV was outside.

“Alright, I’ll see you in two weeks, Soo.” You hugged your roommate goodbye. Before you could even grab your bag, there was another obnoxiously long honk, followed by a series of shorter honks.

You immediately videocalled your brother.

Chenle picked up, already complaining. “Y/N, hurry up! You always take forever—”

“Shut the fuck up!” You retorted, flipping off the camera. “You’re so fucking annoying, I swear to—”

He laid on the horn again, and you could hear complaints start up outside from other people yelling at him to shut the fuck up. Then, you swore you heard another voice in Chenle’s car, quietly suggesting that he stop, but it was too indistinct for you to properly identify.

“Who was that?” You squinted at him suspiciously.

“I told you I was bringing a friend—”

“I know, I meant which one?”

“Get your slow ass down here and find out, or we’re leaving you!” With that, he hung up.

You pocketed your phone with a quiet scream, then turned to your roommate. “Ugh! Can you believe we’re related?”

“Yes,” she answered immediately, not even looking at you.

Hauling your stuff downstairs by yourself, you were a little out of breath by the time you shoved the front door of your dorm open. Your duffel bag started slipping down your shoulder, and as you readjusted that, you weren’t even looking out for the uneven slab of concrete that you knew stuck up in front of the entrance. Your toe caught on it, and you let out an unfortunate ‘eep!’ as you tripped forward. Your bag slid off your shoulder again, catching on your elbow and swinging around, the weight making you stumble a little more. You stayed upright, and you were thankful that only your brother and his friend saw all that. Yeah, Chenle was going to tease you for the entire three-hour car ride, and Mark or whoever was coming with would definitely get in on the ribbing, but you had plenty of dirt on them too. It was the natural order of things.

“Clumsy ass,” Chenle yelled at you from the car, the driver’s side window rolled down. You flipped him off on instinct. “Jisung, go help her before she hurts herself.”

Jisung. That was a new one. Admittedly, you didn’t know all of your brother’s friends, you two ran in different circles at school. You were usually introduced them in passing if you happened to run into each other at events, or some you knew from before college, like Jeno and Jaemin, the twins who lived next door to you guys growing up, or Mark and Donghyuck, who you all went to high school with.

A car door opened and closed before a tall figure was walking around the front of the car to meet you on the sidewalk. You blinked in surprise as you recognized Chenle’s friend that was approaching you, and not because of your brother. The cute boy from the library was standing in front of you, seemingly having a similar sense of déjà vu as he froze, hand already outstretched, reaching for your duffel bag.

“Hey again,” you chuckled, putting your bag strap in his hand. “Did you get everything turned in on time?”

“Yeah, I did.” Jisung unfroze and smiled at you, and you swore the sun seemed dim in comparison. “Thanks for the candy, by the way. Completely forgot to tell you that.”

“It’s okay, you were busy.”

“I’m Jisung, by the way.”

You nodded towards your brother’s car. “I had guessed.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Right.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“I had guessed,” he quipped back.

Chenle honked again, then yelled, “Come on!”

You rolled your eyes. “Pain in the ass.”

Chenle popped the trunk for you from his seat, and Jisung put your duffel bag in among their things that were already packed, then he took your suitcase to put away as well. As you opened the passenger door, your brother immediately shook his head.

“Nuh-uh.”

“What?” You looked at him incredulously. “I always get shotgun!”

“And Jisung gets carsick in the backseat.” He pointed at the boy standing awkwardly behind you. “I’m not having him puke all over my car. You’ll survive the backseat for once.”

Hating his condescending tone, but with no other option, you graciously stepped aside. Jisung gave you a quiet ‘sorry, thanks’ as he opened the back door for you. After buckling yourself into the middle seat and Chenle starting his music, everyone was ready to go.

“Y/N, Jisung,” Chenle made introductions over his shoulder, jabbing his thumb between you two. “Jisung’s on the baseball team and was in my bio lab last semester. Y/N is my annoying little sister.”

You kicked the back of his seat. “By ten months. As soon as you popped out, Mom and Dad were so disappointed they immediately decided to have another kid.”

“Regret saying yes yet, Jisung?” He asked his friend smugly.

Jisung, meanwhile, had been staring straight ahead at the road, clearly feeling uncomfortable as he didn’t want to get in the middle of your typical bickering.

“Ignore him, Jisung.” You leaned forward between their seats over the center console, your tone much more friendly. “So you’re on the baseball team? Do you have an athletic scholarship or something?”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” he answered hurriedly. “Uhm, it’s the only way I could afford to go here. Full ride as long as I keep my grades up.”

You all did go to a rather expensive private university—your parents were alumni, they wouldn’t have sent you anywhere else, of course.

“Wow, so you must be really good, then.”

“I mean, I don’t know—”

“A full ride, I would think they only give those out to the best players, right?”

“Well—”

Chenle cut in, “You’re making him nervous, Y/N. Back up, for fuck’s sake.”

You didn’t back up. “Am I making you nervous, Jisung?”

“No, it’s fine,” he rushed to reassure you, finally turning around in his seat to face you. He let out a squeak as soon as he did, probably not anticipating that you’d be as close as you were. He sat back in his seat, propping himself up against his seatback on his forearm. “Uhm, it’s just that this is only gonna be my second season. Still a rookie, you know. I don’t think I’m that good.”

Jisung sort of reminded you of a little hamster when he was nervous like this, and your lips twitched with amusement. He really was cute.

“When’s baseball season?”

“Practice officially starts in January, first game’s in February.”

“Don’t you get cold out on the field?”

He shrugged self-consciously. “I mean, we’re moving around a lot. And we have hand warmers and stuff for when we’re on the bench.”

You kept eagerly asking him questions. “What position do you play?”

“Pitcher. I’m a switch pitcher—I can pitch left or right-handed—so they like that.”

“So it’s a surprise for the other team?”

“No, you have to declare which hand you’re going to pitch for each batter beforehand,” he admitted, then quickly tacked on, “But it still kinda throws them off!”

You hummed thoughtfully. “What about when you’re hitting the ball?”

“I could do either, but I prefer my right.”

“You’re never this interested in my friends,” Chenle interrupted accusatorily.

“Because I already know like, way too much about the twins, Hyuck, and Mark. Wish I could unlearn some of it, actually,” you snorted. “And you’ve been trying to get me into sports for our whole lives. What’s the problem?”

“Basketball,” your brother corrected you. “I’ve been trying to get you to watch basketball with me. Jisung plays baseball. Wrong sport.”

“Stop talking to me like I’m five,” you snapped, kicking his seat again.

“Stop kicking my seat like a five-year-old and I might,” he retorted.

You scowled at the back of his big head.

“I can see you pouting in the rearview mirror.”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, flopping back against your seat.

“Saw that too.”

“Wasn’t trying to hide it!” You snipped back childishly. Turning your focus back to Jisung, who was looking out the passenger window, you asked, “Is he like this to you, Jisung?”

“Don’t answer that,” Chenle directed him before the other boy could open his mouth. “She’ll tire herself out.”

“Oh, you’re insufferable!” You spat. “Talking about me like I’m not even here! Or like I’m Daegal!”

“Well, Daegal is actually trained.”

“Pull the car over, I’m going to beat your ass!”

“Hey!” Surprisingly, it was the soft-spoken Jisung who raised his voice over the sounds of you two fighting, shocking both of you into silence. He continued, “Chenle, you’ve been antagonizing Y/N ever since we pulled up in front of her dorm, man. Then you act like she’s crazy for being pissed off at you. It’s honestly pissing me off.”

Chenle huffed loudly, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel, before he finally said, “Fine. Sorry, Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever. Thanks for apologizing because Jisung told you to.” You unbuckled and scooted over to the seat behind Jisung, buckling back in and looking out the window at the scenery rushing by.

The car was silent other than Chenle’s music, which he turned up as you pulled out your phone.

[you: i found out cute library guy’s name]

[soosoo: omfg the cia has nothing on u]

[soosoo: SPILL]

[you: i didn’t stalk him, turns out he’s my brother’s friend. his name is park jisung and he’s on the baseball team]

[soosoo: your brother’s friend that you’re going to be ALL ALONE WITH in the mountains for the next TWO WEEKS???]

[you: not ALL ALONE, chenle will be there, remember?]

[soosoo: unfortunately]

[soosoo: WAIT i found him on the team’s roster online and WHEW GIRL]

[soosoo: attached image.]

It was a screenshot of Jisung’s athlete profile on the university’s sports page. The small ID photo he had on there honestly did him no justice.

[soosoo: how is ur brother always friends w the HOTTEST GUYS who ALSO PLAY SPORTS????]

[soosoo: i need him to hook me up fr]

[you: don’t tell me ur thinking abt jeno and jaemin rn]

[soosoo: always]

[you: u don’t need chenle to hook u up if u rlly want, im friends with them too??]

[soosoo: YOU WOULD????]

[you: but you’d have to pick one]

[soosoo: god i am not your strongest soldier]

[you: exactly what i thought]

At the mountain cabin, you three were the first ones there, of course. You parents wouldn’t be arriving until Christmas Eve due to their work schedules. The house was already decorated like something straight out of a Hallmark movie—lights, red and green bows, candy canes, baubles, and other decorations all throughout.

“Wow,” Jisung breathed out, stopping in the foyer and turning around, his eyes wide as he took it all in. “Your parents are really into Christmas, huh?”

“Not really.” You had also stopped to watch his slow circle of awe. “They pay somebody to set it up.”

The wonder dropped off his face and was replaced with confusion, his brow furrowing. Chenle yelled for him from further in the house, and you jerked your head for him to follow. Your brother was at the threshold of the hallway where all your rooms were located.

“Yours is there,” Chenle pointed Jisung to one end of the hallway as you slipped by him to head to the bedroom at the other end. “Y/N’s is on the other side.”

“We share a bathroom,” you called over your shoulder as you opened the door. “Don’t use all the hot water in the morning!”

“And I’m upstairs.” Your brother indicated to a small ladder between Jisung’s room and the bathroom in the middle. “I got the loft. Won it in rock-paper-scissors almost two decades ago.”

“You cheated!” You reminded him loudly from where you had started unpacking your things in your room.

“Sore loser!”

“Sore winner!”

“Anyway, holler if you need something.”

You were still unpacking when there was a soft knock at your open door. It was Jisung leaning in your doorway.

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly.

“Hey.” You smiled at him brightly. “Bathroom’s the middle door. We both have doors that connect to it, so knock before we go in? Even if the light is off?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Jisung continued silently watching you unpack, then finally blurted out, “You egg him on.”

“Huh? Who?”

“Chenle.” He held his hands up in front of him defensively as you opened your mouth. “I know he started everything back in the car, but you didn’t help.”

You sat back on your feet in front of your open suitcase and dresser drawers. “Yeah, I know I’ve got a temper problem. I need to work on it.”

“I didn’t say anything in front of him because I kind of got the feeling that he was being extra mean because I was there.”

“When we’re hanging out with friends that we kinda share, like Jeno and Jaemin or whoever, it’s fine. You know, they met both of us at the same time. But I think when we’re with people that are his friends, it’s different,” you explained, gesturing to an armchair in the corner for Jisung to sit in while you talked. “We were always in the same grade and stuff, so obviously people assumed we were twins. That’s also why he really gets on the ‘little sister’ thing. When we got to college, we were both relieved to finally be different people, you know? Have different friends, different things that were ours.”

“You seem to understand him really well.”

“Known him my whole life,” you pointed out. “And just because I understand why he acts like this doesn’t mean it still doesn’t piss me the fuck off.”

“To answer your question from the car, no, he doesn’t treat me like that. He’s sarcastic, sure, but not like that.”

Zipping up your empty suitcase, you started on your duffel bag that was on your bed. “Sorry you had to deal with us like that, even more so that you had break us up. I’m sure the next two weeks were flashing before your eyes, huh?”

“Honestly, I’m just glad you didn’t actually start beating him up,” he chuckled.

“Me too, that would’ve been embarrassing.” You added, “For him. To get his ass beat in front of one of his buddies.”

He looked out the room down the hallway, checking to see if Chenle was coming, then admitted, “Don’t tell him, but I was sort of calculating how many swings to let you get in before it would look unreasonable for me to not intervene.”

“Oh really? And how many would you have ‘let me’ have?” You grinned, using finger quotes over ‘let me.’

“One good punch and a hair pull, I think.” He looked to be sizing you up, a teasing glint in his eye. “You seem like you fight dirty like that.”

“Could claim you didn’t want to hurt your friend’s little sister, let me get a few more in.” You mimicked punching and kneeing the air. “At least let me knee him in the balls.”

“I’ll consider it in the event you two do actually brawl while we’re here.”

You looked up at the ceiling, thinking about your brother up there somewhere. “Eh, we’ll make up properly soon. One thing about us, we fight a lot, but it’s never for that long.”

“Okay, now I’m worried about the next two weeks.”

You laughed, maybe a little harder than his joke warranted, but you couldn’t help it—he was cute, he was funny, and he was making your chest feel tighter and your head spin faster the longer you were around him.

“Why are you in here?” Chenle had appeared in your doorway, looking genuinely perturbed at the visage of Jisung sitting in your chair.

“Because we’re talking?” You answered for him. “Or is he only allowed to talk to you while he’s here and I have to take a vow of silence?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he snickered, walking in and flopping on your bed.

“You first.”

“You want to do lunch in town then get the tree?” He checked the time on his phone. “Mom and Dad know how much you like Christmas tree shopping so that’s the only thing not done.”

“Or is it just another responsibility to pawn off on someone?” You snorted, opening the door into the adjoining bathroom to put your toiletry bag away.

Your brother’s distant voice called after you, “Even if it is, we can still have fun!”

You took a deep breath, and came out of the bathroom with a smile on your face. “You’re right. Let’s do it.”

“Ew, stop that, it’s creepy.” Chenle threw a pillow at you.

You caught it and chucked it right back at him. “What? Smiling?”

It hit him in the face before falling to the floor. “Yeah, exactly. I’m done trying to cheer you up, keep being a little Grinch, it suits your face better.”

You climbed on the bed and grabbed a pillow to smack him with it. “Quit being fucking rude!”

He laughed and cackled, rolling away from your pillow attack until his eyes went wide with panic as he went right over the edge of the mattress and landed on the floor. It was your turn to burst into laughter at the sound he made, and when he started groaning and complaining, you knew he was fine. Jisung was also laughing from his seat.

You finally gathered yourself enough to peer over the edge of the bed, looking down at where Chenle was sprawled out dramatically like a cartoon character that had been crushed by an anvil. As soon as he looked at you, he started giggling too.

“What about this one?” Mr. Song, the elderly man who had run the Christmas tree farm in town for as long as your family had been coming for the holidays, was showing you around to the various trees they had for sale.

“Ah, too skinny.” You shook your head. “We have a lot of ornaments. And a vaulted ceiling too, so we can get a taller one.”

“Right, of course. How could I forget?” His eyes crinkled fondly as he walked you around by the elbow. “You and your brother have gotten so big, Y/N. I remember when you two were up to my knee. Always playing hide and seek in the trees.”

“We used to think you were Santa Claus,” you giggled, gesturing to his big, bushy beard. “We told everyone we knew that we got our Christmas tree from Santa every year.”

“Good to see that Chenle and your boyfriend get along so well.” He nodded to where Chenle and Jisung were throwing snowballs at each other. More accurately, Jisung was pelting them at Chenle with scary precision, and Chenle was doing his best to throw some back in between peals of laughter.

“Oh, Jisung is Chenle’s friend from school, he’s not my boyfriend,” you clarified quickly.

“My mistake.” Mr. Song patted your arm.

After circling the next one Mr. Song showed you, you were content, inspecting how dense the branches were, the height, and general shape.

“Guys!” You yelled out to get Chenle and Jisung’s attention. They ceased their (unfair) battle, meandering over to you. “What do you think?”

Chenle gave it a once-over before nodding. “Great pick as always, Y/N.”

“Is that going to fit through the front door?” Jisung asked skeptically, trying to fit his arms around it to gauge the size.

“It will,” you promised as Chenle pulled out his checkbook.

Two of Mr. Song’s grandsons brought the tree up to the cabin in their truck, and you had to open both front doors all the way for them to carry it in. They got it set up in the corner for you, and you sent them on their way with an extra cash tip.

“We’ve got to let the branches settle before we can decorate it,” you advised Jisung. “So we’ll do that tomorrow.”

“Y/N’s got a whole thing about the tree,” Chenle added from one of the couches, turning the TV on.

“Smells nice,” Jisung piped up.

“Did your family have real trees or artificial ones?” You asked, taking up the other couch.

Jisung seemed to momentarily panic about where to sit, before taking the empty space at the end of Chenle’s couch, facing you. “A fake one. It came with the lights already on. Easier for my mom to set up.”

“One or two?” Chenle asked abruptly.

“What?”

“Two!” You answered, and Chenle immediately played a movie from whatever streaming service he was scrolling through. You went to fill Jisung in, “It’s a game we like to play. One of us will assign numbers to things in our head without telling the other, and you have to reply with a number without really knowing what you’re picking.”

“I couldn’t decide which movie to watch,” Chenle added.

“So, instead of a coin flip, you used Y/N?” Jisung clarified.

“Sort of. You can do it for more than two options. Like…” You tilted your head back and forth as you tried to think of one on the spot. As soon as you had, you perked up. “One, two or three?”

“Three?”

“Hot chocolate it is.” You stood up from the couch and headed towards the kitchen.

Jisung turned in his seat to keep you in his eyesight. “Wait, what were the options?”

“That’s part of the fun.” You smiled. “Sometimes you never know.”

A few minutes later, you came back into the room with three mugs of hot chocolate, and handed one each to Chenle and Jisung before sitting back on your couch.

Several movies, rounds of various video games, and large pizzas later, you were beat. Standing up from your couch, you stretched and started grabbing everyone’s plates.

“I’ll get these if you guys put the food away?”

Chenle gave you a thumbs-up, his eyes locked on his phone screen.

“Night!” You tossed back over your shoulder as you traipsed out of the room.

“Night!” Your brother echoed.

“Goodnight!” Jisung replied.

As soon as you were bundled up in your blankets in your room, you videocalled Sooyoung. She picked up, the familiar scenery of her childhood bedroom in the background.

“Hey!” She beamed. “How was day one? Kill Chenle? Make any moves on cute library guy?”

“We know his name now, Soo!” You laughed.

“But a nickname is so fun and mysterious!”

“I did almost kill Chenle in the first ten minutes of the car ride,” you groaned. “Jisung surprisingly came to my defense.”

“Your brother’s friend took your side against him? Wow…”

“He’s really sweet, he’s making an effort to be my friend too.”

“Friend? Or something else?” She waggled her eyebrows.

“I don’t know, it’s been one day,” you giggled, rolling over onto your back. “Anyway, how’s your family?”

You stayed up chatting for another hour before finally going to sleep, giddy with thoughts of what could happen tomorrow.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 22

In the morning, with no alarm for class to get you up, you woke up, rolled over, and went back to sleep several times. Eventually, you decided that it was time to get up, and slowly shuffled out of your room. Chenle was already up, by the stove cooking something. Jisung was nowhere in sight, probably still sleeping.

Upon hearing your footsteps, he looked over his shoulder. “Morning.”

You grunted back.

“Mom called.”

You made another noise of acknowledgment, still rubbing sleep out of your eyes as you lumbered over to your seat at the table. Your brother set a plate of pancakes down in front of you, and you squinted up at him suspiciously. Typically he would’ve made you get your own plate, or more likely, make your own food. Actually, it was kind of weird that he was up before you. He must not have gone back to sleep after talking to your mom. It wasn’t unusual for her to have called early in the morning—your parents’ work took them all around the world, and often the only free time they could find had them calling at odd hours.

“They’re not going to make it for Christmas, Y/N,” he told you softly, still standing next to your chair.

“Of course,” you scoffed, lip curling with distaste as you picked up your fork.

“They’ll be here on the 26th, and we can do everything with them then.”

“Are they staying for New Year’s?”

His silence was all the answer you needed.

“Of course,” you repeated with more venom in your tone than before, dropping your utensil back down onto the table. “What the fuck else should we have expected? Honestly, why do they even fucking bother?”

He put a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Chenle, don’t apologize for them.” You patted his hand. “It’s not your fault.” Pushing your chair back, you stood up. “I’m not hungry right now. I’m going out back.”

“I’ll save your plate.”

Shoving boots on your feet and pulling a heavier coat on, you opened the door in your bedroom that led directly out onto the back patio. It had snowed last night, so you had to shuffle through the fresh layer to get to the swing seat back here. The cold morning air bit at your nose and cheeks, and you tucked your hands into your pockets to keep them warm—you’d forgotten gloves. Sighing, you watched your breath fog up in front of your face, until your tears overtook your vision and you couldn’t see anything past them.

You pulled your knees to your chest on the porch swing, pushing your face into the thick material of your pajama pants. Why did it still hurt so bad? They did this all the fucking time.

The sound of feet crunching snow came to your ears, and you wiped at your face as you looked up at who was approaching you. It was Jisung, two steaming mugs in his gloved hands.

“Uhm, Chenle said you weren’t hungry. Does cider count?” He offered one out to you.

You chuckled, accepting it, grateful to have something warm to wrap your chilly fingers around. “No, it doesn’t. Thanks, Jisung.”

“It’s pretty out here,” he commented, looking around at the scenery. “Or not, if you want me to go back inside.”

You laughed again, gesturing to the empty half of the porch swing next to you. “You can stay.”

Jisung brushed off the snow from the rest of the porch swing before sitting down. He wedged his mug of cider between his legs and you watched him curiously as he started taking his gloves off. He offered them out to you, making you shake your head.

“I’m fine, I’ve got the cider—”

“So do I.”

“Then how about this.” You plucked one glove from him and put it on your right hand, which was holding the handle of the mug. Your left cradled the body of the mug, where all the warmth was. “Glove goes on the colder hand.”

He chuckled, slipping his remaining glove on his left, and wrapping his right hand around the mug. “Innovative.”

“Thank you.”

The smile faded as he turned more somber. “I’m sorry to hear that your parents’ plans changed.”

You took a sip of the cider, staring out at the still landscape of snow-covered trees and mountains. “Me too. You think I would be used to it by now.”

“Chenle was talking about maybe going to this ice-skating place later. If you’re feeling up to it.”

“That’s what’s nice about having him. No matter how much stupid shit we fight about, we’ve at least got each other when they do stuff like this.” You half-smiled to yourself. “You know, sometimes I think they did that on purpose. Had two kids instead of one so they wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving us alone all the time.”

The tears had come back, and you wiped at them with your bare hand, not wanting to soil Jisung’s glove that he had given you. Shaking your head at yourself, you said derisively, “I’m sure I seem pathetic to you. Rich girl crying in her family’s winter vacation home because mommy and daddy won’t make it for Christmas.”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic.”

You turned your gaze to Jisung to find him already looking at you, so sincerely, too. Swallowing down more tears, you asked, “Why aren’t you home with your family? I’m sure you’d much rather be with them than stuck here with us.”

“My parents are divorced. Every year, my dad and his wife go on some cruise for Christmas, and my mom spends it with my stepdad’s family. They say I’m welcome there, but they’re all strangers, except my mom.” He shrugged half-heartedly, blowing across the surface of his cider. “I know it’s kinda my fault too, I’m not making an effort to get to know them or whatever. But I just… don’t want to.”

“How’d you end up coming along with Chenle then?”

“Last year I stayed at school for Winter Break. Met Chenle in the spring, and when Winter Break plans came up this year, he was appalled at the idea of me eating at the dining hall for Christmas dinner.” Jisung chuckled, and you smiled fondly, able to imagine your brother’s horrified face. “It wasn’t even an offer, he decided for me.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here instead of eating dining hall food by yourself.”

“Me too.”

“And I’m sorry your parents suck too.”

“Shitty parents club.” He held his mug out to you.

You clinked your against it in a commiserative toast. “We need Chenle out here for our full membership.”

“Yeah, but this swing only fits two people…”

You smiled a little as you sipped your cider. “Then I guess it’s just us for right now.”

Jisung smiled back. “Guess so.”

That afternoon, as promised, you three went ice skating. The local nature reserve had a lake that always froze solid, and would rent out ice skates and sell hot chocolate and other treats to earn a little extra income—free admission if you brought your own skates. You were the first one to get your skates on, and shuffled onto the frozen lake excitedly. There were a few other people out here—couples, families, groups of friends—but the area cordoned off for ice skating was big enough that everyone had plenty of room to spread out. A wide smile immediately spread across your face. Chenle knew you well, which was a blessing and a curse. He knew exactly how to push your buttons and cheer you up.

Speaking of, your brother smoothly skated up next to you, smug look on his face. “Better?”

“With a head that big, I’d hope you’d have a good idea every so often,” you teased, lightly bopping him through his beanie.

“Ungrateful.” He snapped one of your earmuffs against your head, not hard enough to hurt.

You two had been milling back and forth waiting for Jisung, and you looked back over at the bench where you’d all been tying up your skates to find him still sitting there, fiddling with the laces.

Chenle followed your gaze. “What is he doing? He had them tied when I got up, I thought he was right behind me.”

You shrugged, exiting the ice to stop in front of Jisung on the bench. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just—” Jisung swallowed, squinting and scrunching up his nose nervously. “I’ve only been ice skating once, and I was a kid, so…”

“You don’t know how,” you finished.

“I mean—Yes.”

“Come on.” You offered out your arm out to him.

He waved his hands as he refused. “I’m going to do something stupid like fall and end up breaking your arm or—”

“No, it’ll be fine,” you assured him. “Seriously, I did ice skating lessons as a kid.”

“You did?”

“You’re in good hands, I promise.”

Jisung grabbed your arm, and using both you and the bench as leverage, stood up. He looked around warily as you patted his back.

“There you go, you got it. Now, you get to walk until you get to the ice.” As you coached him through the basics of operating his skates, you slowly guided him closer to the edge of the ice. You stepped onto the ice first, keeping a hold on both of his gloved hands for him to cautiously join you, one foot at a time.

“You didn’t think to tell us you’ve never skated?” Chenle questioned dryly as he joined you two.

“I have!” Jisung defended himself. “Once…”

“Well Y/N can teach you,” he offered you up. “She used to do lessons, till she got kicked out.”

“Wait, for what?”

You rolled your eyes at your brother just having to bring that up. Nudging Jisung forward to start moving his legs, you began relaying the story, “I called my coach a bitch to her face and refused to apologize.”

“Just because or…?”

“First of all, I was seven, so impulse control wasn’t even in my vocabulary. Second of all, she called another little girl in the class fat to her face! She had just gotten a new competition dress, it was this really pretty purple one with sparkles and stuff all over it, and the teacher told her she shouldn’t wear it because something about the pattern made her look bigger or something ridiculous. A seven-year-old! She’s just lucky she didn’t get an ice skate to the face!” Your rant picked up steam and volume as you continued, feeling freshly pissed off as you recalled the incident.

Jisung frowned, looking troubled as well. “That’s awful.”

“I know! Honestly, I’m glad I got kicked out. I hated that woman.” You pulled him away from a divot in the ice. “Watch out. Don’t want your blade getting caught in that.”

“Thanks. You seem to have retained a lot.”

“I didn’t get very far before I was booted,” you scoffed. “But I guess we still went to rinks and out here pretty frequently, so I haven’t lost the basics, at least.”

“So are we decorating the tree later?”

“Yep, should take the rest of the day.”

“Seriously?”

“We’ve got a lot of ornaments.” You snickered at his wide eyes, looking to your other side where Chenle had been skating for confirmation. Instead, your brother had disappeared. Confused, you scanned the figures on the ice, finally spotting him far ahead of you, skating backwards at an impressive speed. “He left us.”

Jisung finally detached his eyes from where they’d been glued on his feet, chuckling when he saw Chenle as well. “He’s not very patient, is he?”

“Not a virtue he was born with, no.” You turned your attention back to Jisung. “Think you’re getting the hang of it?”

His grip tightened on your arm. “If I say yes, are you going to let go of me?”

“No,” you laughed. “Not until you’re ready.”

“Oh, thank God.”

“But let’s try this.” You moved to hold both his hands, skating backwards in front of him. “Okay?”

“You can’t see behind you,” he said, nervously glancing between your face and over your shoulder.

You checked over your shoulder. It was clear, and you redirected your path to make sure you weren’t heading directly at the next closest people. “I’ve got it.”

“I feel like I’m leaning forward too much, how do I—Wah!” The distinct clank of Jisung’s skates hitting each other rang out, and he fell forward.

Not wanting him to faceplant into your skates or the ice, you braked and tensed your arms to try to keep him up. However, since you had braked and he obviously did not, his forward momentum sent him catapulting directly into you. His arms wrapped around your waist as his legs scrambled against the ice trying to find his footing again. You readjusted your hold on him to clutch him under the arms in an attempt to keep him up, but with all the layers that you were bundled up in and the slippery ice, it was a losing battle. You were a good skater, but you couldn’t haul him back to his feet like this. So you decided to just let the two of you slowly descend, squatting down until you could plant your butt on the ice and kick your feet out on either side of Jisung, careful not to hit him with your blades.

“You alright?” You asked him, pulling his beanie back from where it was entirely obscuring his eyes.

“Please tell me I’m dead,” he groaned, the half of his face that you could see was completely pink and his eyes were squeezed shut. His head was pressed against your middle as he was still clinging onto you.

“No, you survived that,” you laughed. “And so did I. No broken arms or other bones.”

“Will you kill me anyway?”

A spray of ice showered both of you as Chenle stopped next to you guys, proceeding to double over with laughter. “Clumsy ass.”

“Nice, thank you,” you scoffed, wiping off the cold ice from your face, then a couple drops that had gotten on Jisung’s cheek. “Anytime you’d like to quit being an asshole and help us up.”

“I don’t know, you two look pretty cozy to me.”

Jisung somehow turned even redder, squirming in your grasp. “Y/N, I’m sorry!”

“Chenle, shut up!” You scolded your brother. “You’re making Jisung freak out and he’s going to hurt himself!”

“You make him sound like a scared prey animal,” he snickered. Letting out a sigh, he patted his friend’s back. “Alright, Jisung, come on.”

With Chenle’s assistance, Jisung got to his feet, and you were then able to stand back up on your own. Brushing snow off your legs, you shivered, and saw that the entire front of Jisung’s pants were soaked through thanks to the ice, and you could feel that the back of your own had suffered a similar fate.

“I think that’s enough ice skating for today,” you declared. “My ass is quite literally going to freeze off if we stay out here any longer.”

Jisung nodded quickly from where he was clinging onto Chenle to stay upright now. “I’m skated out.”

“Good thing my car has heated seats then,” Chenle said, beginning to drag his friend back towards the exit.

After a hot shower and in a fresh change of warm pajamas, you were in front of the Christmas tree with all of the boxes of decorations for it. You had already wound the lights around it when Jisung joined you in the living room, hair still damp from his shower—he’d given you first shower out of guilt.

“Hey, you know where Chenle is?” You asked, flipping open boxes of ornaments. Chenle’s loft bedroom had a private bathroom, so you figured he’d be out by now.

“He got a call—Mark, I think,” Jisung informed you.

“Oh, that’ll take an hour,” you snorted. “You can help me. Put any ornaments that have Chenle’s name on them aside, he gets to put those up whenever he’s done.”

“Any ornaments with your name are yours to put up?” He guessed, reaching into a box and pulling out an ornament in the shape of a bear with a Santa hat on. The white band of the hat had ‘Chenle’ written in cursive.

“Yep. Everything else is fair game for you. Quick tip, any bear ornaments will be Chenle’s. That’s his parent-assigned motif.”

“Got it. And what’s yours?”

You held up the honeybee ornament that you’d just fished out, letting it dangle and twist in the air, the yellow gems catching the light. “Bees. They had a theme, kind of.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.” He reached up to hang a blue and gold ornament on a higher branch, though you could feel his eyes on you as you put your own up on a middle branch. Finally, he blurted out, “Are you sure you didn’t get hurt earlier?”

“Yeah, Jisung, I’m okay,” you chuckled. “Really, we were both wearing so many layers we were practically bubblewrapped.”

He visibly relaxed. “Okay, good.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. But I crashed into you, not the other way around.”

“True, but you had a much less graceful descent.”

He visibly grimaced, a bashful smile on his face. “Mm-hm. Thank you for bringing that up again.”

“Pretty sure you brought it up again,” you teased, nudging his arm with yours as you reached in front of him to hang an ornament.

“And I would love to change the topic now.” He grabbed an ornament in the shape of a snowman.

“What’s your major?” You decided to save him this time. “You and Chenle had bio lab together, but I know he took bio for non-majors, so you’re not a STEM major either…”

Jisung made a buzzer noise, and you blinked at him in surprise. He cracked a grin as he said, “Cybersecurity.”

“Ah, so you’re a baseball jock and a little computer geek…” You nodded slowly, grabbing another ornament. “The duality of man, truly.”

“Geek?” He repeated incredulously.

“What? I think it’s cute.” You giggled and put up the glass snowflake in your hand. Then, you turned back to him hopefully. “Ooh, actually, my laptop gets possessed sometimes ever since Chenle clicked on one of those sketchy porn pop-up ads when we were fourteen. You don’t think you would be able to take a look at it sometime, would you?”

Jisung visibly sustained whiplash at your words, his head jerking back and eyes going wide before he furrowed his brows. “Wait, what? How old is your laptop? He did what to it? What do you mean it gets possessed? What exactly does it do?”

“Uhm… it’d probably be easier to show you.”

“Y/N, this thing is old enough to drive.”

You put your hands on either side of your laptop’s screen as if you were covering its ears, giving Jisung a stern look. “Sh! You’re going to hurt her feelings!”

He continued to look at you over his glasses, entirely unamused. This was the first time you’d seen him wear them—even in the library, he’d had contacts in. Now, with him wearing his casual clothes, glasses, sitting on your bed and attempting to fix your laptop, you felt like you were going to lose it, truly. Especially when you’d catch a whiff of his shampoo, and you’d have to stop yourself from leaning in to follow the smell of cinnamon.

“Seriously, why do you still have it? Chenle has the newest Macbook,” he asked, fingers flitting across the keyboard.

“Because it works fine!” You insisted, removing your hands. “I get the internal stuff cleaned out regularly, and make sure all the software is updated and everything.”

“It still gets software updates?”

“It just… gets possessed every so often.”

“I wouldn’t call the occasional possession ‘working fine.’”

“When it’s not possessed, it works great! And it doesn’t even happen that much, only like, once a month.”

“Once a month since you were fourteen?” He squinted at you in disbelief where you were sitting on the opposite side of the laptop screen. “And you kept the damn thing?”

“No, once a month now,” you clarified. “It happened the first time when Chenle clicked on that porn ad, then maybe once a year for a few years after, and slowly started happening more and more often.”

“And he was watching porn on your computer because…?”

“So it wouldn’t be on his internet history.”

He snorted. “Of course. I should’ve realized.”

“Can I watch?”

“Oh, uhm, sure?” He readjusted to make room to his left side on the mattress, angling the laptop that way as well.

You shuffled around to the other side of the computer, dropping to lay down on your front, propping your chin up with your elbows to observe. Tilting your head, you rested it against Jisung’s knee that was next to you. His hands froze over the keys, and you lifted your head back up, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Sorry—Is this okay?”

“Y-Yeah, you’re fine.” He nodded quickly and pushed his glasses up as he returned his attention to the screen.

Leaning your head back against his knee, you settled in to watch him work on your laptop. You couldn’t follow what exactly he was doing to the computer, opening and closing different windows, folders, and applications. You zoned out, watching his hands and fingers deftly move over the keys instead. He was muttering to himself under his breath, his low voice pleasant to listen to even if you couldn’t make out the words he was saying. This close to him, you could smell the cinnamon better, and were starting to think that maybe it was actually a body wash or cologne.

“Y/N?” He said your name, making you snap out of a daze as you realized he was calling for you. “Hello?”

“Hm?” You perked up a little.

“We need to do an exorcism.”

That woke you all the way back up. “Wait, what?”

“Complete reset. Wipe everything and redownload the OS.”

“But I have everything on there!” You pleaded, stretching your hands over the keyboard to prevent him from doing anything else. “We’ve been through so much together! You can’t kill her!”

He sighed regretfully. “Is there an electronics store or something around here? We can get an external hard drive to back up all your personal stuff.”

“There’s a mall like an hour away. Chenle and I need to go gift shopping anyway so we can go tomorrow!”

“Why did I hear my name?” Chenle’s voice came from further down the hallway. He must have finished his call with Mark. Your brother poked his head into your room, briefly pausing when he saw you and Jisung. “I thought you guys were decorating the tree…?”

“Remember how you downloaded a virus trying to watch porn on my computer in high school? Jisung is fixing it for me,” you said pointedly, never missing an opportunity to bring that moment up. “But we need to buy something. I was telling him you and I need to go gift shopping anyway, so we can all go to that mall tomorrow.”

“Please tell me the thing you’re buying is a new laptop.”

“Never! She’s going to outlive you if I have anything to do with it!”

“Based off the fact that it sounds like a jet engine taking off right now, I’m pretty sure that was a threat on my life.”

MONDAY, DECEMBER 23

“Okay, so you’ll need at least this much storage for the files that you have right now,” Jisung explained, motioning to a few different options of hard drives that the electronics store had. He then gestured to a few more. “But if you really want to have her until Chenle’s dead, you might want to consider some more storage.”

You grinned, bumping his shoulder affectionately. “You said ‘her.’”

He covered his mouth as he let out a sputtering laugh, his cheeks turning pink. “Oh God—I didn’t even realize. That’s—Ah, you’re rubbing off on me.”

“I like that one,” you declared, pointing to one hard drive that was a similar colorway to the laptop case you had.

“Yeah, that’s more than enough storage.”

After purchasing your hard drive, you and Jisung headed out of the electronics store together. Chenle had already gone off to gift shop on his own so you and Jisung couldn’t see what he bought you.

You turned to Jisung. “Want to help me shop for Chenle?”

“Sure.”

The two of you meandered around the mall, popping into stores that seemed promising from the outside. As you passed by a jewelry display in a window, you tapped on the glass in front of a pair of earrings.

“Those are cute,” you commented, slowing down but not stopping entirely.

“You think so?” Jisung questioned, looking at them over your shoulder as you kept walking.

“Mhm.” You nodded, then clicked your tongue. “I’d get them, but I already have a pair like them.”

“You do?”

“Yep.” Keeping your gaze on the passing storefronts, you said levelly, “I don’t want to assume anything about what you think of me, Jisung, but I want you to know that I don’t expect a present from you. We only properly met two days ago.”

“Yeah, that’s… really reasonable,” he chuckled, the relief evident in his voice.

“Seriously, if you fix my computer, that’ll be the best Christmas present I get this year, hands-down. I don’t care what expensive crap my parents get me or surprisingly thoughtful, niche thing Chenle somehow manages to find.”

“I didn’t realize how much my computer exorcism skills were worth.”

“To me, they’re priceless,” you assured him. “I wish I had something to offer in return.”

“Hey, you already taught me how to skate,” he insisted, nudging your arm.

You tilted your head side-to-side contemplatively. “One could argue whether I was successful at that…”

“Completely my fault that the lesson got cut short, not yours.”

“Alright, alright. I suppose a computer exorcism can be our quid pro quo for ten minutes of ice-skating lessons.”

“I didn’t pay much attention in my high school history class when Mr. Yoo was talking about the bartering system, but I’m pretty sure those two things are equivalent, yeah.”

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut as you started to go a little light-headed from how hard you were laughing. You were still walking forward alongside Jisung, and felt him grab your arm and tug you towards him at the same time he warned, “Watch out.”

You couldn’t see whatever you must’ve almost walked into as you were still trying to sober up from your chuckle fest, covering your face as more giggles bubbled up every time you tried to close your mouth. Jisung kept you right next to him, guiding you through the mall crowd with a gentle but steadfast grasp on your arm, not letting you bump into anybody or trip over anything.

“Are you really still laughing?” He asked, and though his words were exasperated, his tone was overly fond, letting out a soft laugh of his own at the end. “I don’t think it was that funny…”

You narrowed your eyes playfully at him, shook his hand off you, and suppressed your giggles to say, “Fine. I don’t think you’re funny at all and I hate you, actually.”

Jisung’s mouth parted as he stared at you in shock, and you couldn’t keep the bit going for very long when faced with his adorable look of being totally caught off-guard and floored, even if both of you knew it was all a joke. You grabbed his arm this time, your laughs getting muffled in his sweater as you buried your face in his shoulder and leaned against him for support.

“Oh my god, you looked like I ran over your dog or something!” You gasped for air between guffaws, apologetically rubbing his arm.

“You’re…” He trailed off, letting out a sigh instead, reaching for your purse that was on your arm and now awkwardly crushed between you two with you holding his arm. “Here, I’ll take that.”

He had already been carrying your shopping bags that you’d been acquiring from the various stores, and you now stopped to wordlessly shimmy off your purse for him to shoulder on his opposite side from you. You reattached yourself to his arm that you had been holding, and though his cheeks were turning pink, he had a small smile on his face as he looked down at his phone to check the time.

“Did your family assign you an animal too?” You asked him, your eyes getting caught on a kiosk of Christmas ornaments as you continued your journey through the mall.

“What?”

“Like how my parents decided when we were born that Chenle’s a bear and I’m a honeybee,” you explained, quickly looking back over to Jisung. “Did you ever have an animal or something that was like yours?”

He scrunched his nose as he thought, then shook his head. “No, not that I can remember. I always had a bunch of different stuffed animals.”

“I think you look like a hamster,” you informed him. “Especially when you do that with your nose.”

“Do what with my nose?” He questioned, his nose unintentionally twitching and scrunching up again as his eyes flitted around nervously.

You giggled, squeezing his arm tighter as you couldn’t help but coo over how cute he was. “That!”

He covered his nose with his hand, and though it obstructed half his face, you could tell he was pouting behind it.

“I didn’t mean to make you self-conscious, I’m sorry!” You apologized, grabbing his hand and trying to pull it away from his face. “I think it’s really cute!”

He stubbornly kept his nose concealed. “You still haven’t told me what it is…”

“You just scrunch up your nose sometimes, like this—” You imitated it, doing your best not to make it look like you were mocking him. “Seriously, it’s adorable! Please don’t ever stop, I might die!”

Jisung’s eyes crinkled and he dropped his hand back down as he chuckled. “Well we can’t have that.”

Your phone buzzed in your hand then, and you saw that it was your brother calling. “Mm, hold on, it’s Chenle.”

“Hey, where are you guys?” Chenle asked on the other end.

“We’re still on the first floor,” you told him. “By the pretzel stand. Where are you?”

“What have you two been doing? I’m on the third floor; I’ve been through the whole mall already. I’m done,” he scoffed. “Stay there, I’ll come to you.”

“I had to get my hard drive first, remember? You got a head start.”

“Anyway, are you done?”

“No, I have a couple more people to find gifts for.”

“Alright, hold on, I see you.”

You craned your neck looking for Chenle, still with your phone to your ear. “Damn bitch, how many old ladies did you take out on your way here?”

“Only two,” Chenle’s voice came through your phone and from directly beside you at the same time. He was loaded up with shopping bags on both arms.

You jumped out of your skin before rolling your eyes and hanging up the call. “Did you see a place that sold bath bombs and stuff?”

“Yeah, second floor, directly to the left off the escalator.”

“That’s my next stop, SooSoo loves that stuff,” you declared.

“There’s a baseball specialty shop on the third floor,” Chenle stated, eyes lingering on where you were still holding onto his friend’s arm. “If you want to go check it out, Jisung?”

You perked up, giving him an enthusiastic smile. “That sounds awesome! You totally should.”

Jisung turned to Chenle and nodded. “Yeah, sounds cool. Let’s do it.”

“I’ve still got a couple people on my list, so I’ll call you guys when I’m done so we can meet up and go,” you said, reaching for your purse that was still on Jisung’s shoulder. He handed it back to you, and you hurried off to take care of your final errands.

Back at the house, you watched on with bated breath as Jisung performed his laptop exorcism. The screen turned on, which already was good news. After a few more progress bars, you eventually saw your homescreen and looked at him with guarded hope.

“I still need to transfer your personal files back over. And you won’t know if it worked unless it just never gets possessed again, but…” Jisung gestured to your laptop with a certain finality.

“Ahh, thank you! Thank you!” You cheered, hugging him.

“O-Oh, you’re welcome,” he mumbled, hesitantly hugging you back.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 24

Christmas Eve was ushered in with a fresh snowfall overnight, and maybe the Christmas spirit finally possessed you, because all three of you were outside playing in it like little kids. A rather lumpy snowman had already been built and decorated with various rocks, sticks, and kitchen utensils. Snow angels were scattered around, and Chenle had just thrown the very first snowball, hitting Jisung squarely in the back of the head.

You laughed incredulously as the pitcher turned around and calmly started packing snow between his hands.

“Are you stupid?” You snickered at your brother, who was also preparing another snowball.

Before he could finish readying that one, Jisung wound up and launched his snowball, nailing Chenle in the face. You weren’t even focused on your brother as he desperately wiped the snow off his face with both hands, however, your eyes still watching Jisung, who was chuckling to himself. You’d been too preoccupied at the Christmas tree farm to really watch any of their snowfall fight that had happened there, and obviously hadn’t gone to any of Jisung’s games before, so this was the first time you’d seen him really use any of his pitcher skills. While it wasn’t a proper pitch, the practiced ease and skill that he clearly possessed even in doing something as silly as throwing a snowball was admittedly really attractive.

Chenle had taken his loss and grabbed a stick to start writing something in the snow, a good distance away from where you and Jisung were, his back to the two of you.

Stepping deliberately closer to Jisung, you said, “That was really cool, Jisung.”

He fidgeted with making sure his beanie was down over his ears. “Ah, I mean, it wasn’t a real pitch or anything—”

“Then can you teach me how to pitch for real?” You requested sweetly. “I’m very into baseball these days.”

“Uhm, y-yeah,” he agreed, clearing his throat and nodding. He stooped down to pack more snow between his hands into a round sphere, then held it out for you. “Here, that should be the right size.”

You graciously accepted it, then looked at him expectantly.

“Do you prefer to throw with your left or your right?” He asked.

You held up your dominant hand holding the snowball, and he nodded.

“Okay, uhm, you should stand with your feet like this.” He demonstrated the correct positioning himself, and you copied.

Jisung went through the basic steps with you, making minor adjustments here and there, and you were actually finding it sort of interesting, outside of the cute boy teaching you something he was passionate about. Learning a new skill or something to that effect. When he was showing you how to actually move your arm when throwing, you were genuinely trying to do it per his verbal instructions, but apparently there was still something wrong with the way you were doing it. And so he walked behind you, covering your gloves hand with his. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, and his other hand grabbed your opposite shoulder to correct your posture as he manually moved your arm through the correct motion. Slow at first, talking through it.

“Feel how it’s different than what you were doing?” He asked, doing it again, a little faster this time.

But you were long gone, your brain white noise and your vision blurring a little bit (but that was mostly due to the cold wind hitting your eyes). He still smelled like cinnamon, and you wanted to listen to his voice all day. Jisung could read you a car manufacturer’s manual for all you cared.

“Mm, mhm,” you agreed absentmindedly.

“Alright, I’m going to step back and let you throw your first pitch.” He patted your shoulder and did just that, leaving you feeling even colder.

You momentarily panicked as you grappled in your short-term memory for anything that he had just been saying. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, deciding that you would probably suck anyway, and to just fucking do it. Trusting your gut and muscle memory of what Jisung had just been walking you through, you did your damndest to throw that snowball in something akin to a pitch.

Amazingly, the snowball actually hit the trunk of the tree that you had been aiming for, and you stared at it in disbelief, hands hanging down by your side. Jisung clapped, the sound dampened by his gloves, but his cheers were surprisingly upbeat for how soft-spoken of a guy he was.

“Wow! That was a really good first pitch!” He congratulated you, holding up both his palms for you to high-five. “So awesome…”

You high-fived him, but stayed holding onto his hands, wide smile overtaking your features. “Thank you.”

“I—You’re welcome.” He held onto your hands too, throat bobbing up and down as he swallowed.

“Jisung!” Chenle yelled out, reminding the both of you of his presence. “Can you get my phone? I made Daegal out of snow and I want to take a picture. It should be charging on my bed.”

“Yeah!” Jisung called back. He gave you a regretful look, letting your hands go to trudge back up to the cabin.

Rounding on your brother, you stomped over to him, observing the admittedly cute snow-Daegal for a moment before addressing him.

“You can get your own phone,” you scoffed, crossing your arms.

“I thought I might hurt Jisung’s feelings if I told him to leave to his face,” Chenle replied nonchalantly. He looked at you over his large-framed sunglasses. “I feel like I have to warn you, as your big brother—”

“By ten months.”

“—about Jisung.”

You gave him a sour look, knowing that he knew that you wouldn’t be able stop yourself from asking a follow-up question to a statement like that. “What about him?”

“I know what you’ve been trying to do this whole time. You’re not ‘very into baseball,’ you’re into Jisung.”

You immediately got fired up, hands balling into fists at your sides. “Don’t you dare start pulling the ‘my friends are off-limits’ card now. You’ve never—”

“Hey, I like Jisung.” He held up his hands defensively, an amused smirk on his face. “If I had to make a tierlist of my friends for you to date, he’d be like, the only one in S-tier.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Do you have a fantasy draft of boyfriends for me too?”

“I’m genuinely trying to help you here, alright?”

“So, what? Does he have a girlfriend or something?”

“Not exactly…” Chenle sighed. “Right before we left, during finals week, he met this girl in the library and just absolutely fell head-over-heels, okay? Like, he’s never even looked once at all the girls who show up to his games, but this one says three words to him and gives him some candy and he’s a goner. I don’t get it.”

It took everything in you to suppress your giddy grin and instead cock your head, playing dumb as you asked, “Wait, did he even get this girl’s name?”

“No, he never got a chance since they were both working on finals stuff,” he answered. “Anyway, I’m just trying to warn you. You’ve got to compete with the romanticized version of mystery library candy girl that he has in his head.”

“Mm. Tough competition,” you nodded with mock solemnity.

“I’m serious, Y/N. He called me at like midnight walking back from the library to tell me about it. He’s got it bad.” As if suddenly realizing everything he had just told you might dampen your spirits, Chenle’s entire demeanor shifted, and he gingerly patted the top of your head. “But uh, you’ve totally got this. I’m rooting for you, lil sis.”

“Right. Thanks… big bro,” you replied with intentional stiltedness, softballing a punch to his shoulder.

That night after dinner, you all sat down around the Christmas tree for your family tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve. You sifted through the presents under the tree, some of which were ones that had been shipped here ahead of time by your parents or other extended family, others from Chenle.

“Hmm… one or two?” You asked, your eyes on two particular gifts.

“One,” Chenle and Jisung answered unanimously.

You grabbed the one that had been under your left hand, returning to your seat next to Jisung. Chenle had already picked his box, and fished out a gift bag, plopping it in front of Jisung. He seemed surprised, blinking down at it.

“But—”

“I got you more than one gift, dummy,” Chenle cut him off, already guessing what his confusion was about. “Go ahead.”

“No!” You stopped Jisung. He looked at you with alarm as you snatched the gift bag away, putting it back under the tree and replacing it with a different, much smaller one instead. “Open mine.”

Jisung looked even more confused, and slightly betrayed. “I thought we agreed we weren’t doing gifts…?”

“Yeah, but then I saw this and…” You smiled sheepishly. “Just open it!”

Shaking his head, he pulled out the tissue paper, then removed the object at the bottom of the bag. It was wrapped in more tissue paper to protect it, which he carefully wrapped, revealing the ornament that you had bought yesterday while you were split up. It was in the shape of a hamster popping out of a present box, and as soon as you saw it at the mall kiosk, you knew you had to get it for him.

Jisung turned it over his hands, looking up at you still a little confused, but with a smile. “Wait…”

“It looks just like you!” You giggled, taking it from him to hold it up next to his face. Aiming your next question at Chenle, you asked, “Doesn’t it?”

Your brother started laughing, reaching forward to tweak one of Jisung’s cheeks. “Ha, she’s right. How adorable.”

Jisung pushed his hand away, rolling his eyes. His gaze softened when he looked back over at you. “Thank you, Y/N. It’s great.”

“Hang it up!” You urged, giving it back to him and gesturing to the tree.

He got up on his knees to reach forward and affix it to an empty branch, between a bear ornament and honeybee ornament.

“Okay, Y/N, you next,” Chenle directed.

Ripping the wrapping paper off the small box, you were met with a small jewelry box, and took that lid off. Inside was a pair of ornate, bejeweled earrings, a little flashy for your taste. You checked the card.

“Great-Aunt Ying,” you announced, and Chenle let out an ‘ahh’ sound in understanding. You put the lid back on the box and set it aside. “SooSoo will love those.”

“Who’s that?” Jisung asked curiously as your brother started unwrapping his present. “Not your great-aunt.”

“Sooyoung, my roommate since freshman year,” you explained. “She’s also like, my best friend. And those earrings aren’t really my style, but I know she would wear them like, all the time, so I’ll just give them to her when we get back.”

Chenle’s box was a bit larger than yours had been, and was similarly stylish. He turned it over to shake the lid off and make the contents fall out all in one go, catching the fabric that fell out in his hand. Holding it up, it was a tie in what looked like a nice material, a monochrome and not exceptionally busy pattern on it.

“Another tie, wonder who it’s from…” he snorted, picking up the card. “Oh, Great-Uncle Feng. Surprise.”

“Does he think you’re eating all the ties he gives you or something?” You snickered.

“I think he’s so old he forgets he’s given me a tie before and thinks I don’t own any.” Chenle then offered it out to Jisung. “You need a tie? If not, I’ll ask the other guys.”

“I would need a suit first…” Jisung admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Chenle stared at him in disbelief, then sighed. “Okay, so we’re getting you a suit when we get back to school.”

“What do I need a suit for?”

“Don’t you have formal stuff that you have to go to for baseball? Awards or press conferences or something?”

“That’s maybe once a year. I just rent a suit!”

“Jisung, don’t say another word, you’re going to kill me.” He put a hand over his heart as if it were going to give out any second.

You chuckled at their antics, starting to clean up the trashed wrapping paper. “Christmas movies?”

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 25

You felt like a little kid, unable to sleep the night before Christmas morning. It was after midnight, so it technically was Christmas now. And even thought you knew that neither Santa nor you parents were coming, you were still oddly giddy. You had already videocalled Sooyoung to recap the developments of the day, but you were still replaying everything in your mind, kept up with thought of Jisung. How it felt being that close to him when he was teaching you to throw a snowball, the information that apparently he was just as smitten with you after the library as you were with him. Even Chenle’s unofficial blessing put your mind at ease—not because your brother determined who you dated, but he knew Jisung better than you did and was brutally honest, so if he said that he liked Jisung for you, you knew he meant it.

Pushing your covers off, goosebumps immediately popped up on your legs that were now exposed to the cool air. You treaded over to the bathroom door. The light was off, but you still knocked. When there was no response, you opened it. You didn’t stop there, however, continuing on to the opposite door, which you knew led to Jisung’s room. Taking a deep breath, you knocked softly on that one too.

You heard the rustling of sheets and quiet padding of footsteps before the door handle twisted and opened, Jisung on the other side. He looked down at you, nose scrunched up in bewilderment.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked, rubbing one of his eyes behind his glasses.

“Yeah. Uhm, sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, I uh, I couldn’t sleep, actually.”

“Me neither.”

“Oh.”

There was a pause, and you fidgeted with the ends of your longsleeve. “Do you want to hang out for a bit? Since we’re both up…”

“Oh! Y-Yeah, sure.” He stepped back from the door, motioning you in. “Uhm, come in.”

“Thanks.” You stepped inside, and he closed the door behind you.

The bedsheets were rumpled on one side, so you sat down on the other side, pulling the blanket over your chilly legs. Jisung watched you, frozen halfway from the bathroom to the bed for a second.

“I’m cold,” you told him, turning your phone on.

“Of course, right,” he breathed out, snapping out of his trance.

He climbed under the covers as well, putting a headphone in his ear opposite from you and pressing play on a video on his phone. Curious, you peeked over at his screen to see what he was watching. It looked like a bunch of clips of professional baseball pitchers.

“It’s my favorite pro pitcher,” Jisung blurted out, pausing the video again. He had apparently noticed you snooping at his screen. “Well, that’s currently active. He’s a lefty, and he does this thing on some of his pitches where he gets this spin and—”

You blinked as he had abruptly cut himself off in the middle of his sentence. Tilting your head, you asked, “What? Why’d you stop?”

“You’re not really interested in baseball, are you?” He questioned, turning his eyes down to his lap. “You’re just being nice.”

“Hold on—”

“It’s okay, you can go back to what you were doing, I don’t want to bore you.”

“Jisung,” you giggled, turning over on your side fully to face him. “You really haven’t figured it out?”

His brow furrowed and he pouted slightly as he seemed to genuinely be confused. “Figured what out?”

“I’m interested in baseball because I’m interested in you,” you said bluntly, watching the gears turn in his head before his eyes widened.

“Wh—Oh. Really?”

“Mhm. But Chenle did warn me that apparently you’re head over heels for some mystery girl that you met in the library during finals week who gave you candy,” you teased, letting out a wistful sigh. “So I have no chance…”

Jisung dropped his phone to cover his face with both hands, letting out a noise of embarrassment from deep in his chest, shaking his head. “Oh my God…”

“I told SooSoo about you too,” you informed him. “After the library.”

He opened his hands to peek at you meekly. “Really?”

“Really.”

Jisung glanced upwards, and you snickered.

“Chenle’s not like that. He’s not going to care unless you’re a dick to me.”

“Because only he gets to be a dick to you?” He joked, slowly removing his hands all the way from his face.

“Yep. Same for the girls he dates. Nobody gets to be a bitch to him except me.”

“So, now what?” He asked nervously, glancing around the room.

“Now, you’re going to finish telling me about your favorite pitcher,” you stated, scooting over until you were snuggled into his side, head resting on his shoulder so you could see his phone screen better.

Jisung grabbed his earbud case from the nightstand, bringing the other one out. He offered it to you, and you put it in as he turned his phone back on. He restarted the compilation, but didn’t press play yet, instead launching back into his explanation from before, excitedly talking faster now.

“So this is Hwang Myungjun. Like I said, he’s my favorite pitcher that’s in the league right now. He’s a lefty and—you’ll see it in this video, but—he does this really cool thing on some of his pitches where he can get this certain spin on the ball and…”

You listened to him go on and on with a smile on your face, breathing in the warm smell of cinnamon.

In the morning, you stirred a little, sighing and pulling the covers up to your nose. Covers that smelled like cinnamon. Opening one of your eyes, you were greeted with Jisung already wide awake, sitting up against the headboard, staring at you from behind his glasses.

You rubbed your eye and yawned. “Christ—Did you sleep at all?”

“Yeah, we get up early for baseball conditioning, so I don’t really sleep in even on days off.” He rubbed the back of his neck, ears turning pink. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Good morning…”

“Morning,” you mumbled, yawning again. “Sorry for falling asleep here.”

“It’s okay. Sorry for talking you to sleep.”

“No, it was nice. I like your voice.” You pushed yourself into a half-sitting position. Pecking his cheek, you added, “Merry Christmas.”

His face flushed as he smiled down at his hands. “Merry Christmas…”

Climbing out of bed, you stretched your arms over your head, then wrapped them around yourself. “Anyway, I should emerge from my own room. Just because he doesn’t care if we date doesn’t mean Chenle needs to think something other than watching baseball compilations happened in here last night.”

Jisung squeezed his eyes shut and nodded his head. “Good idea.”

“See you in a few.” You bid him a momentary farewell, opening the door to the adjoining bathroom.

Shuffling back into your own bedroom, you almost screamed when you saw a figure sitting on your bed in the dark. You grabbed for the closest thing in your reach, a candlestick on the dresser next to you, ready to swing. The figure turned on the lamp next to the bed, and you saw that it was Chenle, still contemplating hitting him anyway. You decided to set your weapon down, however.

“What the fuck?!” You hissed, stalking up to your bed and grabbing a stuffed animal to chuck at him instead. He caught the stuffed bee, holding it to his chest as he smirked at you.

“Something you want to tell me?” He raised an eyebrow. “About where you’ve been?”

You followed his line of sight between you and the bathroom door that you just came out of. “What are you, the piss patrol? Can’t a bitch pee in peace around here?”

“Toilet didn’t flush, sink didn’t run,” he immediately shot back. “Also, I’ve been in here for the past hour.”

“Don’t be weird about it—” You held up a finger in his face threateningly, and a victorious grin immediately spread across his features. “Jisung and I talked about how we felt, and I fell asleep in his room. Nothing else, okay?”

Chenle gave you a look that told you he didn’t entirely believe you, but he didn’t press you any further. “God, how am I going to choose between being your brother of honor and his best man?”

“We haven’t even gone on a date!” You grabbed a pillow and tried to pushed it over his face to shut him up. He narrowly saved himself from being smothered, cackling as you resorted to smacking him with it instead. “As if I’d even ask you to be my whatever you just made up! You’ll be lucky if you even get an invite, I swear to—”

The door to your room was thrown open from the bathroom, Jisung looking around the room wildly. “Y/N! Are—”

You stopped your assault on your brother to smile breathlessly at Jisung. “Oh. Hi.”

“I heard you yelling, I wanted to make sure…”

“I’m fine,” you reassured him. “Thanks, Jisung.”

“I know!” Chenle announced loudly. “I know everything, Park Jisung! Last night, you and my little sister—”

You succeeded in smothering Chenle this time, muffling whatever obnoxious things he was about to spew.

After breakfast and opening presents in the morning, Jisung excused himself to go call his parents. Chenle tsked, turning the gaming console on to start up one of the new games he’d gotten and tossing you a controller.

“He tell you how he ended up coming with us?” Your brother asked, his gaze on the screen.

“Yeah. His dad goes on a cruise and his mom is with his stepdad’s side of the family. So he would’ve just been at the school if you didn’t bring him,” you replied, only paying half-attention to the opening cutscene.

“At least ours pretend to make an effort,” he scoffed. “His mom didn’t even offer to pay for his plane ticket.”

“Hm?”

“His mom and stepdad live on the other side of the country. They technically ‘invite’ him to Christmas every year, but he’d have to get himself there and back.”

“So it’s hardly a genuine invite.”

“And you know what his stepdad does?”

“What?”

“CEO of that logistics company that Mom and Dad are always talking about. The big one.”

“Shit, really? And he can’t be bothered to pay for his wife to see her own son once a year?”

He clicked his tongue. “Apparently not.”

A few levels into the video game, Chenle’s phone lit up with a text. He paused the game, and sighed upon reading the message. “Jisung says we can eat lunch without him. He’s suddenly not feeling well.”

You winced. “I take it his phone calls didn’t go well.”

“You go check on him. You can handle crying people better than me.”

You nodded in agreement, getting up from the couch. Outside of Jisung’s bedroom door, you listened carefully first, just in case he was still on a call. It was quiet, and you knocked softly.

“Jisung?” You called out. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” he replied, his voice sounding far away.

Opening the door, you saw him laying on the bed on top of his covers, his back to the door. You stayed in the doorway, asking, “Do you want to be alone?”

“No.”

You sat down on the bed behind him, still giving him his space. “Do you want to talk or do you want quiet?”

“My dad didn’t even pick up,” he muttered. “And my mom—God, I got to tell her about school for all of five seconds before she started gushing about how her grandbabies are learning how to write or whatever. I’ve never even met those kids, honestly, I don’t give a fuck about them. They’re not even her grandkids, they’re her husband’s. Apparently, one of them is on a little league baseball team. When she started saying I could teach him how to pitch when I come to visit for summer, I pretended the call was dropping and hung up. ‘When I come to visit’—I live with my dad in the summer because he didn’t move away from me.”

“I’m sorry, Jisung,” you said, feeling the hurt in your heart as his voice tightened and cracked.

“It’s funny, they used to have these-these blowout fights every year about who got me for Christmas,” he sniffled. “And now that they moved on and got their new families, they couldn’t care less about me.”

“Lucky for me and Chenle, then. Because we got you this year.”

He laughed, finally rolling over to face you. He wiped at his eyes, but you still saw the tears that had run down the side of his face. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do.” You gently stroked his hair, brushing some of it out of his face.

Jisung scooted closer, until he could pillow his head in your lap instead, his eyes fluttering shut as you resumed your ministrations. “I’m glad you guys got me too…”

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 26

A knock on your bedroom door woke you up. It opened, and somebody who was neither Chenle nor Jisung peered in.

“Merry Christmas, sweetie,” your mother hummed lightly. “Are you up?”

“Mm, yeah,” you grunted, pushing yourself up against your pillows.

She came over to press a kiss to your forehead. “Good morning.”

“Hi, Mom. Merry Christmas,” you smiled up at her, letting her take your hand in hers. “Did you and Dad just get here?”

“A few minutes ago. Your father’s getting Chenle.”

There was a loud thunk from above you, followed by a yelp and two very familiar and similar laughs that you recognized as your families’. You chuckled as your mom rolled her eyes fondly.

“I think he was successful,” you snickered.

“We’re going out for breakfast when you’re ready,” she informed you, squeezing your hand before letting it go.

“Mmkay.” You yawned as she headed for your door. “I’ll let Jisung know.”

She paused, tilting her head. “Who?”

“Didn’t Chenle tell you his friend was coming? Park Jisung?” You pointed at the room next door.

“Oh, I thought he was bringing Mark for some reason.” She looked at you with concern. “Does Jisung like basketball too?”

“I… don’t know? He plays baseball?”

“Oh. Hm.”

“So, what are you studying, Jisung?” Your mother asked, stirring sugar into her coffee.

The five of you were at a diner in the small town at the base of the mountain, you, Jisung, and Chenle packed into one side of a booth and your parents on the other. The car ride had been filled with you and Chenle filling your parents in on your various happenings from this semester, but now your parents seemed to have zeroed in on the newcomer.

“Cybersecurity,” he rushed to answer.

Both your parents seemed impressed by that. Your dad spoke next, “And what do your parents do?”

“He’s got an athletic scholarship, Dad,” Chenle cut in before you could. You both knew what he was really asking about.

“Full ride,” you added proudly. “Baseball. He’s the pitcher.”

“Really?” Your dad’s interest was piqued—he was a bigger sports fan than your brother.

“Yes, sir,” Jisung replied.

“The school doesn’t give out full athletic scholarships frequently. You know that?”

“No, sir, I-I didn’t know that.”

Your dad took a sip of his own coffee, regarding Jisung like he was evaluating his investment portfolio. “So what makes you so valuable?”

“W-Well, uhm, I-I don’t—”

“He’s ambidextrous,” you answered for him. “He can pitch with both hands.”

“Switch pitcher?” Your dad hummed thoughtfully. “You know who the best switch pitcher in the history of the league is, right?”

“Kim Beomjin, sir,” Jisung replied firmly.

“Has he passed your test, yet, Dad?” Chenle scoffed. “Come on, stop treating him like he’s interviewing at the company.”

“I was trying to get to know—”

“You were being a bit much, dear,” your mother interrupted your dad’s attempts to defend himself.

“Alright. My apologies, Jisung.”

“It’s fine, sir, really.”

You didn’t understand why your mother had asked if Jisung liked basketball until you got back to the house. Your parents had brought a few more presents with them, including, kindly, a couple for Jisung. Except they hadn’t been expecting Jisung, they had been expecting Mark, which evident in the gifts. Both Chenle and Mark loved basketball, so the matching jerseys for their favorite team would’ve made the perfect present, if it had been Mark receiving it.

“I’m so sorry, Jisung,” your mother kept apologizing, clearly embarrassed at the mistake.

“No, I-I like basketball too, ma’am,” he tried to reassure her.

“It’s a requirement for being my friend,” Chenle helped him out. “If only I could’ve made it a requirement for being my sister.”

“If we got to pick, I would’ve made not being annoying as fuck a requirement for being my brother,” you retorted.

“Language!” Your mom scolded you, at the same time that your dad warned Chenle to “Be nicer to your sister!”

Your parents were gone again after dinner, leaving in a flurry of hugs, kisses, and promises of celebrating Christmas together properly next year. As soon as he’d shut the door behind them, Chenle turned to you, cynical disbelief on his face already.

“No way,” he chuckled and shook his head. His phone rang then, and he tutted. “Gotta take this. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

Jisung was already in the living room, and you plopped down next to him on one of the couches, dropping your head into your hands.

“Your parents seem nice,” he said quietly.

“Mhm, they’re really great when they’re here,” you agreed bitterly. “Sort of makes it hurt worse. It’d be easy to just hate them if they left us all the time and changed plans last-minute and were awful when we did see them. But they do all that shit, and then I see them and it’s good. And it makes me start thinking that maybe it’ll be different, maybe they’ll really keep their promises next time.”

“I get that.” He seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. “But maybe this time you just don’t get your hopes up. Might be easier on you.”

“Yeah, probably.”

With a sigh, you sat up, turning into Jisung’s side and snaking your arms around his waist. He wrapped his arms around you as you buried your face in his chest, one hand cradling the back of your head. His other hand slowly rubbed your back, encouraging you to relax into his embrace even more.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 31

The morning of New Year’s Eve, the three of you were sitting around the kitchen table silently eating breakfast scrounged together from various leftovers and the singular grocery store trip you’d taken since Christmas. Then, there was a knock at the front door, and with your cereal spoon sticking out of your mouth, you gave Chenle and Jisung a bewildered look. They, however, didn’t seem put off at all.

“Y/N, can you go see who it is?” Chenle asked you, returning his gaze to his phone screen.

“Are you expecting someone?” You retorted. “You go answer it.”

The knocking came again, more insistent this time.

“Y/N! Just get it!” Chenle demanded loudly.

“Fine! Fine!” You got up, stomping over to the front door.

Opening the solid wood door, your jaw dropped when you saw six figures on the other side, before you were tackled in a hug by the one at the front.

“Surprise!” Sooyoung squealed, nearly squeezing the air out of your lungs.

“Soo!” You gasped, hugging her back. “What are you doing here?”

“We were invited!” Jaemin informed you cheerily, grabbing you for a bear hug next.

“We’d never pass up an invite to a Chenle-Y/N party,” Jeno’s eyes twinkled as he pecked the crown of your head.

“Especially a New Year’s Eve party,” Donghyuck added.

“Since when have we been throwing a New Year’s Eve party?” You spluttered, still in delighted shock as you took in all of your friends standing in your foyer.

Mark hugged you too. “Chenle texted us a couple days before Christmas to see if we could make it for New Year’s.”

You grabbed your roommate’s hand, bewildered the most by her presence. She wasn’t friends with Chenle or any of the other guys standing there, to your knowledge. “But how did you…?”

“Jisung’s idea,” Chenle had joined you all, standing at the threshold of the foyer with the baseball player. “We figured out that Renjun and Sooyoung were in a study group together this semester and…”

You’d spotted Huang Renjun, one of Chenle’s friends from college whom you’d met several times before, hanging back on the fringes of the group. You smiled at him before beelining for Jisung, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek a couple times in your excitement.

“Thank you!” You were smiling ear to ear, so much that your cheeks hurt, but you couldn’t help it.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” Jisung returned the hug, rubbing your back. “My late Christmas present to you.”

You let him go to hug your brother next, hooking your chin over his shoulder and squeezing him so tight you felt like your chest might burst, and you hoped he could feel how much all of this—how much he—meant to you. Despite everything you may say or do to each other. “Thanks, Chenle.”

“Of course,” he whispered, hugging you back just as tight.

“SooSoo, I’m serious, not that much has happened!” You promised, laying on your bed to watch as she got settled in your room. She had of course insisted that you filled her in on every details of everything that’s happened between you and Jisung, including things that she had already heard before since you two talked almost every night. “It’s only been like a week, and my brother is literally here.”

“We all saw those little cheek kisses earlier,” she replied pointedly. “You’re at least going to kiss him at midnight, right?”

“Maybe,” you giggled, quite literally kicking your feet as you thought about it. “Onto you—You just spent three hours in a car with them, have you figured out if you want me to set you up with Jeno or Jaemin?”

“We took two cars. I was in Renjun’s with Donghyuck,” she informed you with a desolate sigh.

“Why did you—”

“He offered because he knew I didn’t know anybody except him, and I didn’t know how to explain why I wanted to go in the other one!”

“Foiled once more by empathy and kindness.”

“I’ll figure it out before we go back to school!”

“Maybe you can get one of their numbers on your own before then.”

Despite the reputations that ‘Chenle-Y/N’ parties carried amongst your friends, and your friends also bringing enough alcohol to host a full-blown kegger, the event itself was pretty low-key. You’d gotten the firepit on the back porch going, food ordered, music going throughout the house, and had already completed several different games.

You were fixing yourself a cup of eggnog in the kitchen when you spotted someone out by the firepit. Pouring another mug, you took both out with you. Jisung looked up when he heard the back door open. He smiled as he recognized that it was you, scooting over on the bench to make room for you to sit with him.

“Eggnog?” You offered a cup out to him. “I didn’t spike it, but I can go add something in if you really want.”

“No, this is perfect,” he chuckled, his laughs rising as white wisps in the cold air. “I’ve been thinking…”

“About?”

“Were the three options hot chocolate, cider, and eggnog?”

It took you a second to catch up, but once you had recalled your first night in the mountains, you burst into laughter, nodding. “Yeah, those were the three options when I made you pick a number.”

He smiled, taking a sip of his drink. “There was something else, that I was thinking about.”

“Oh?”

“Are-Are we going to kiss at midnight? Do you want to? I know we haven’t gone on a real date or anything—”

“I do want to kiss you,” you admitted. “Do you?”

He nodded hurriedly. “Yes, god.”

“You still seem… fidgety. We can wait, if you—”

“That’s not it.” He set his cup of eggnog down, and you did as well. “I want to kiss you. I just don’t want the first time I do to be in front of a bunch of our friends.”

You smirked, tilting your head curiously. “Are you asking to practice before?”

He blinked. “I don’t think I was before, but I definitely am now.”

You snickered a little, leaning in and gently touching your lips to his in a feather-light kiss. He let out a small sigh against your lips, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek and pull you closer, sealing his mouth over yours. Everything was warm, no matter the fire or the cold wind or the thick jacket you were wearing, you were being heated from the inside out.

When Jisung pulled back, he had such a dazzlingly soft smile on his face that you couldn’t help but stare, wanting to burn that image in the back of your eyelids forever. He moved to duck his head shyly, but you grabbed his face.

“I think we might need some more practice before midnight,” you teased, nuzzling your nose with his affectionately.

“Mm, of course,” he agreed humorously, kissing you again. And again, and again, and again.

⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon

TAGLIST

@annenakamura @bee-the-loser @lotties-readings @ppddpjdr @reiofsuns2001

@classicroyalty @giirlfriendd @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01

@tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69

@winkeuu

[harmonic-intervention]

You're killing me with chemistry - Chapter 1

Buck knows he's bi. He knows what he wants. And what he wants, right now, is Tommy. Maybe his hand in marriage, because he's getting desperate. Because, despite all of his attempts, and all of the positive responses from Tommy, for some reason, Tommy just ... doesn't act on anything.

Tommy knows Evan is straight. He asked both Howie and Hen about it, and he trusts their word on it. It doesn't stop Evan from pulling him in, and making him fall head over heels for him anyway. Tommy knows better than to fall for a straight guy, he does, but ... he can't change it.

Everything would be easier if they just talked to each other, but where's the fun in that?

A little story based off on this post by @disaster-j and I hope I did your idea justice.

This story will have three chapters, the rest of which will be coming out in the following days. Rating and tags will change as we go.

Word count: 13,556 - canon divergence, bi disaster!buck & oblivious!tommy, sexual tension

Excerpt:

Buck was in hell.

You’d think that finding out he was bisexual would make things- easier? Clearer? The world was his oyster or whatever.

Okay, fine, the clarity of finally realizing what he was feeling for men was nice, freeing. Looking back on things, so many of them suddenly made sense – namely following Connor to LA from Peru. And a couple of other things. It brought him perspective.

He’d tried for a couple of relationships with men, but they fizzled out like his thing with Natalia had just before. Finding the right partner who matched him wasn’t easier with men, it seemed.

Whoever said that as a bisexual man, he’d have twice as many options – Eddie – was a liar and also naïve. It only got worse.

Until the night Bobby and Athena decided to re-enact Titanic in the most dramatic way possible. Buck did feel kind of bad about connecting so much joy with that night, but hey, nobody could blame him!

Not when Chimney introduced him to the most beautiful man he’d ever seen in his life.

Buck saw him, and he thought that he couldn’t be real. Men like Tommy Kinard didn’t exist. He was tall, broad, had a kind smile and pretty eyes, looked like the textbook definition of handsome, had large and strong hands – Buck almost lost his breath when he shook his hand – he was a firefighter and a pilot, and he was also batshit insane, it seemed. At least enough to fly them into a hurricane.

Buck heard his voice, and he knew immediately that he needed to hear him say his name. He felt like his insides melted when Tommy said, “Nice to meet you, Evan,” with a soft smile, his words so genuine that Buck felt something rearrange inside of him.

What the hell was Buck supposed to do? Not fall ass over teakettle for the guy? Okay, they barely talked that night, and the words they exchanged were tense. But Buck got to watch Tommy work, got to watch him confidently stride across the hangar and bullshit his way into getting them off the ground, got to watch him guide them through a storm with steady hands.

And then he got to watch him and hear him make fake mouth static at the fire chief, and Buck was gone. Men like Tommy weren’t real, but here he was, right in front of Buck.

[continue on ao3]

[blissfulip]

Surface Tension

on AO3

Steb x f!reader

Rating: E

Tags: doctor!reader, anthro (does he count as a furry? idk), post-canon, just shameless smut

Cw: Dacryphilia

Words: 3.9k

[A/N: Steb has Selective Mutism in this fic, meaning he has the physical ability to speak but chooses not or is unable to due to social, psychological or other circumstances. Since we don't have any information on this in canon I have decided that for the purpose of the story, what prevents him from speaking is biological, he can only speak if his gills are properly wet, otherwise it hurts him, so he chooses not to most of the time.

Also, for reference on what his body looks like anatomy-wise, refer to this (also, let me know if you want to be tagged or removed in future fic updates!)]

Tags: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @chemical-killjoy @jinxed-jk @bobobomao @queen-of-elves @thedustybunny @syren201 @thayfass @thehistoriangirl @hypocritic-trash-baby @moonstrider9904

Happy Holidays from me to you  🎄

The knock was soft, tentative, like the wind testing the strength of a door. Steb looked up from the book resting on his lap, his fingers frozen mid-turn of a page. He tilted his head toward the sound, waiting, and when a second knock came he convinced himself to stand up. When the door creaked open, it wasn’t a draft that slipped through, but you, coat half-unbuttoned and cheeks pink from the cold.

He narrowed his eyes at you, his fingers lifting up to sign. 

“You’re early this month, should I be worried?” His hands hesitated halfway through the sentence.  

You smiled faintly, the kind of smile that seemed almost apologetic. “Not unless you’ve developed an allergy to soup.”

“You check on me once a month, doctor”, he signed slowly, “Routine, clinical. This isn’t that.”

“It’s not,” you agreed, unbuttoning your coat the rest of the way and draping it over the back of a chair. “It’s not an official visit, Violet mentioned you haven’t left your room in a while, and I’m on vacation so I thought I’d stop by.”

He rolled his eyes at the mention of Vi, nosey, he thought to himself. The word vacation felt out of place in this room, he had been trying to get out of medical leave for the past month and go back to work, with no success. He scrunched up his nose, and then let out a sigh of resignation. 

“You didn’t have to come.” he signed.

“I wanted to.”

His hands stilled. The room felt heavier now, the tension fragile but unyielding like a drawn thread. Steb looked away first, his gaze sliding to the window where frost rimmed the edges of the glass. When he signed again, his movements were slower, almost uncertain. 

“You’re bad at taking vacations.”

That made you laugh—a soft, short sound that filled the room briefly before fading.

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

“Deep breath,” You instructed, your stethoscope cool against his chest. He complied, the effort visible in the furrow of his brow and the sharp rise and fall of his ribs. You listened, frowning slightly, before stepping back and meeting his eyes directly.

“You’ve had quite the ordeal.” You said. Steb nodded once, his jaw tight. He didn’t need the reminder. His chest still ached faintly, a ghost of the gas that had filled his lungs, its burn raw and relentless. “Does it hurt when you speak?”

Silence. You repeated your question when he didn’t answer, fearing he might not have heard you, and confused when you only received a stern look back. Vi, who had been sitting in a nearby chair keeping him company despite his protest, chimed in. “Do you know sign language? He has mutism”  

“Oh, that makes sense”, You said nodding, “I do, you can sign your answers.”

“Selective” He signed for the first time. 

“Hm?”

“Selective mutism, and yes, it hurts.”

“Good to know.” You nodded once more before continuing to examine him. “I’m keeping you here for observation for another few days. No arguments.”

Vi smirked. “Oh, he’ll argue.”

“I’m stubborn as well, let’s see if I can outlast you.”

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

He watched you move to the kitchenette, unpacking the bag of food with quiet precision. Bread, soup. Simple and practical. Your hands worked with a deliberate ease, as if you were trying to fill the silence with motion.

He stayed seated, his fingers curling and uncurling in his lap. You weren't here because you had to be. That much was clear. But the why of it lingered, unspoken, in the space between you both. He wanted to ask, but instead he watched you.

The room fell quiet again after you left, the faint echo of your footsteps lingering in Steb’s ears like the fading notes of a song. He sat motionless for a moment, staring at the empty bowl and crumbs on the table. Your visit left the space feeling fuller, even though it was now empty.

With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet, his body aching with the subtle pull of exhaustion. He crossed the room to the corner where the tub waited, an old clawfoot basin half-filled with clean water he’d drawn earlier. The air already felt drier than he liked, the faint itch under his skin a reminder that it had been too long since his last proper soak. He shrugged off his shirt and let it fall to the floor, his greenish skin catching the dim light of the room, rougher than it should have felt, another sign he’d been neglecting himself. He stepped into the tub, the cool water lapping at his ankles before he lowered himself in completely.

The relief was immediate, a soft exhale escaping his nose as the water embraced him, its touch soothing the ache in his muscles and the dryness on his skin. He tilted his head back, letting his gills on his jaw flutter open as they met the water. He could almost feel his body pulling life from the moisture, the subtle tension in his chest easing with every passing second.

But even as the water worked its way through him, his thoughts stayed tangled. Your face lingered in his mind—your calm, steady voice, the way your fingers brushed the table before you left. The way you looked at him, not with pity or detachment, but with something quieter, warmer. He shut his eyes, sinking further into the water until only his nose and eyes remained above the surface. Your words replayed in his mind, I wanted to. Not I had to, not I should, but wanted.

He cared for you. Deeply, irrevocably, in a way that terrified him.

You stepped into your apartment, the door clicking shut behind you, tossed your coat over the back of a chair, not bothering to hang it up, and let the paper bag you’d carried back with you drop onto the counter to then walk over to the living room table. You reached for the book you’d left there, its pages dog-eared and scribbled with notes. The Anatomy and Physiology of Vastayan Subspecies was stamped in gold along its spine—a dense, technical text you’d been studying since Steb became your patient.

You flipped through the pages, fingers deftly skimming over sketches of gills, webbed hands, and intricate scale patterns. When she reached the section on the fish folk, your focus sharpened. The accompanying illustration was striking—detailed renderings of fins that ran in continuous lines down the backs and arms of the species, elegantly integrated into their musculature. You read through the notes in neat, clinical prose:

“The dorsal and arm fins of fish folk are highly sensitive, containing a dense concentration of nerve endings. In social and intimate contexts, tactile stimulation of these fins is known to elicit strong physiological and emotional responses, often interpreted as arousal. The evolutionary function remains speculative, though it is suggested this sensitivity aids in both bonding and self-preservation.”

You sat back, breath catching in your throat briefly. The words lingered with their implications vivid in your mind. You thought about Steb, the way he moved, always careful to not make any abrupt movements, something you had attributed to his personality. Curiosity flared unexpectedly, sharp and unwelcome. What would it feel like, you wondered, to trace the edge of his back…You blinked, heat rising to your cheeks. The thought had come unbidden, intrusive, and entirely inappropriate. With a sharp inhale, you snapped the book shut and pressed your fingers to your temples.

“This is research,” you muttered to yourself aloud, the tone brusque as if saying it could push the thought away. “It’s important to understand. That’s all.”

But even as you placed the book back on the table and tried to focus on something else, the image of him and the way he always held himself with quiet restraint—refused to leave your mind. 

Steb made up his mind sometime during the night, as the water soothed him and his thoughts swirled. He needed to see you—not as a patient, but as… something else. Someone else. He couldn’t name what that was yet, but he knew the need was undeniable. By the time he reached your apartment, the air was crisp with the early chill, his breath curling in soft plumes as he adjusted the scarf around his neck. He knocked lightly, a polite rhythm that belied the tension he felt inside.

When you opened the door, you looked startled at first, hair loose and face soft in the morning light. “Steb?” you said, blinking at him. Her eyes flicked to his damp scarf, then back to his face. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head quickly and your brows furrowed in concern as you stepped aside to let him in. The room smelled faintly of coffee and lavender, the latter likely coming from the small candle burning on the counter. He left his scarf on a chair and took a seat at the small table, his movements careful as always, and waited until you settled across from him.

“So?” you said, your voice calm but with a thread of urgency.

He leaned forward, signing deliberately. “When my gills are wet it doesn’t hurt to talk”.

Your eyes widened slightly, “Are you sure?,” you blurted out, as you stood, not waiting for a response. “It explains the discomfort you described, I don't know how I never thought about it.”

Back when you first met him at the hospital, he attributed his elective mutism to the fact that it hurt him to talk. You ran numerous tests on his oesophagus, vocal cords and so many other things that yielded no conclusive results.

He hesitated, feigning a sheepish shrug, “Realized last night”.

“If it’s true this changes everything,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him, as you paced back and forth, “We’ll need to adapt your care plan…hydration protocols, speech therapy, we can get a humidifier and…” You stopped on your tracks and looked at him as an idea surged in your mind.

“What?” Steb signed.

“We have to test it.” You said grabbing the anatomy book off the table along with a pencil and quickly moving on to walk all the way to your bathroom, dragging him with you by the arm before he had any time to protest. 

The walls of the bathroom were cloaked in the mottled green of old tiles, their edges chipped like broken teeth. Time had sunk into the grout, leaving darkened veins that spidered in uneven paths, whispering tales of hands long gone. The light overhead buzzed faintly, casting a dim yellow halo that couldn’t quite chase the shadows from the corners. The tiles, damp to the touch, exhaled a faint mineral tang that clung to the air, mingling with the metallic drip-drip of the showerhead. 

Much like his own bathroom, this one carried the promise of comfort and relief, but with the circumstances at hand the shower itself made Steb feel weary. Its once-proud chrome dulled and speckled with rust, as if it had wept along with those who stood beneath it. Water marked its passage in faint trails, a tapestry of use etched upon the walls. 

You leaned over to turn one of the valves and quickly leaned back to avoid the steady stream that cascaded as a result, turning to look at him with an invitation in your gaze. His eyebrows shoot up then furrowed deeply, a silent scoff playing across his face as his nose wrinkled ever so slightly, repelled by the mere thought. 

“Do you have a better idea?” You said in response to his negative.

“These shoes are velvet.” He signed.

“Well not with your clothes on, duh” You said. 

No more than 3 seconds went by, but the amount of thoughts that went through Steb’s mind made it seem like time did not exist, and he had been standing there in silence looking like an idiot for an eternity and then some. His first instinct was indignation—eyes darting to your face to gauge whether you were serious. You were, of course, your tone carried no malice, just a clinical, matter-of-fact assurance that this was perfectly reasonable. 

His chest tightened. He felt heat creeping up his neck, a prickle of something. Embarrassment, maybe, but deeper, sharper. Why did his skin feel so tight, his breath so loud? Yet your eyes held him like an anchor, and against all logic, he found himself nodding, hands fumbling with maroon plastic buttons. Perhaps if you hadn’t looked, if you had kept your eyes somewhere between his face and the far wall, they wouldn’t have hovered over his hands and consequently landed on his collarbones. It was mere scientific curiosity at first—or so you tried to tell yourself—why you marveled at the sight of him. 

He was so different from what Piltover knew about his species, and you could pinpoint so many details you wanted to take note of. You stood with the book clasped tightly, fingers curling just a touch too hard around the edges. Your posture was straight and composed, but there was a tautness in your shoulders, a stiffness in the way you shifted the weight between your feet, the collar around your neck unable to mask the faint flush creeping up. 

The silence buzzed between you louder than the hum of the fluorescent light above, and was only broken by the sound of his belt buckle falling on the floor tiles, a metallic clang that echoed all over the cold walls and instinctively broke the eye contact you had been trying to maintain, bringing both of you out of the awkward trance you unknowingly shared. He walked into the shower and stood there as the water completely soaked his skin. 

“You should walk back a few steps, you’re getting…”

You heard his voice very few times before, and cherished each one of them. Once a few months back you asked him what the nurse had added to his iv drip, the cold dusk lighting coming through the window shone over his sleepy face, and you could see as his eyes looked to the side and worked hard to remember if there was a sign for ‘saline solution’. A big sigh of resignation was followed by him saying it and you gasping in surprise. You tried to play it off but your reaction got a smile out of him, and you could’ve sworn you’d never seen that either. You only heard him twice after that, one time when he called you over to check something and the last one a short ‘eh’ that punctuated a lazy shrug. 

An entire sentence was something else, you were able to make out the lilt in his tone and a vague accent dancing on his vowels. You almost asked him to speak again so you could hear the slight rasp in his voice, but your body was quicker than you; before you could even register what you were doing both of your hands were already on either sides of his face and the book on the floor, you let out a full belly laugh, not for one second concerned by your now completely drenched arms. However, it lasted only half a second and the sharp gasp came before the tumble as your foot slid on the slick floor of the shower’s tiled edge. The world seemed to lurch for a split second before Steb’s arms shot out to grip your shoulders instinctively, his chest rumbling with a low, warm laugh, breaking the tension. You stayed like that a moment too long—his hands still cold on your arms, breaths mingling in the close, humid air—before you straightened yourself with a nervous chuckle. 

“Could I, eh, compare some of the information I have on the book?” You said delicately slithering out of his grasp to pick up the heavy volume you had hurled across the small room earlier. He nodded, and waited still for you to flip back to the correct page. You skimmed through the text until your eyes landed on the passage you had highlighted the night before; ‘…tactile stimulation of these fins is known to elicit strong physiological and emotional responses…’ you hummed to yourself, unsure. 

“Turn around, will you? I want to check the dorsal fins.” And he did, unceremoniously. “Do you know what they do?”

“No, I can’t reach them, does your book say something about it?”

“You look very different, I’m not sure how accurate any of these ‘facts’ are.” You said, looking at him and back at the illustrations on the book a couple of times. “Mind if I test something out?”

“Go ahead,” he said, looking back over his shoulder.    

They were translucent and filmy, wet and slightly slimy to the touch, not scaly like you were expecting when you reached over and ran your fingers along the fins on his back. You would have spent hours pondering and observing the taut and elastic webbing on them if you hadn’t been brought back to reality by the husky groan he let out. Panic came over you. 

“Did it hurt? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone at it so carelessly, I thought…” You blurted out.

“No, it’s fine, I’m fine,” He said, leaning on the wall in front of him with both hands, head down like he was trying to catch his breath. It dawned on you like a ton of bricks, out of all the things this stupid book got right it had to be this. Guilt immediately crept up your throat, but you weren’t allowed to mull it over any longer before Steb spoke again. “You…you can do it again, if you’d like, if you need to.”

Once again your hands acted off their own bat, your fingers started a path, slower, more intentional, from the nape of his neck all the way down to the small of his back. This time around you cared not about the impossibly slick and almost amphibian quality of his skin, you observed him. The way his ears twitched slightly and the fins that ran all the way down his arms fluttered, similar to how a human’s skin would get goosebumps. You paid close attention to how the muscles on his arms tensed up and his legs shivered, and a second time, a gravelly sound coming out of his mouth, more whiny than the last.

“I’m sorry, I knew this would happen and still…” He tried to say through heavy panting. 

You couldn’t really pretend you were still doing this for the science of it, not after you saw one of his hands come down to his crotch. He turned, both hands covering up what was clearly an erection. You didn’t want him to apologize, not for something you had shared control over, so you showed him. 

Both of your hands grazed down the fins on his arms in tandem. His reaction wasn’t different, but this time you could look at his face, a beautiful painting of arousal that culminated with him holding onto both of your arms for balance and his head buried on your shoulder. You allowed him to breathe, and when he sluggishly lifted his head up to look at you, the wicked grin on his face warned you about what was to come. 

The kiss was ferocious, hungry, the water almost steaming as it came in contact with the scalding heat of skin. You weren’t used to this much humidity, and he could tell from the way you gasped for air when he turned his attention away from your lips to nibble at your neck, so he helped you out of your soaked shirt and pants before gently pushing out of the bathroom. 

It wasn’t his first time at your apartment, so the walk to your room was seamless and the kissing never stopped until you felt the back of your knees graze the edge of your bed. He nudged you down gently but he didn’t come with, instead, he took off your underwear, and as he lowered himself you spread out your legs almost instinctively. 

The feel of his tongue was indescribable, rough but not too much that it hurt when he gave a long intentional lick to your folds, but just enough to elicit an initial shock and an immediate whiny moan to come out of you. He licked your still dewy skin all the way to your neck, and after a small nibble to your ear he started to kiss you again, the sharp nails of one of his hands digging into your thigh as the other struggled to remove the damp fabric of his own underwear. 

You were still dizzy from the heat of the water and the steam, so it took you a while to notice he was looking at you and waiting for confirmation. 

“Huh?” 

He looked down at where his hand firmly gripped his cock and then looked back up again, eyebrows raised in a guise that screamed uncertainty. 

You nodded, “Please.” You said almost embarrassingly eagerly. But he gave you no time to overthink before he was inches deep. 

You could only arch up into each fleeting touch and hope Steb would give you more, each small grunt coming out of him adding fuel to the fire in your core. When he lifted one of your legs to lay over his shoulders it was like electricity ran through your spine with every thrust, and he noticed how you felt, the knitted frown he usually carried turning into a smug look you had never seen before. 

Occasionally he would pull back and look at you for a second, a torturous second that felt like a year. He seemed to revel in torturing you, seeing you get whiny and desperate before plunging into you mercilessly. Each time you were incoherent, begging for something and nothing in particular, and each time he would thrust into you harder. He waited longer that time, waited as you arched your hips in frustration and your eyes swelled up with tears, he waited until you vocalized your pleas before he continued and inched closer to your face with a triumphant smile when he saw the tears trickle down your cheeks. 

You were too worked up to wipe them off, and that was, you noticed in hindsight, exactly his intention, since he reached out his hand behind your neck and pulled you closer to lick them clean as they streamed out of your eyes. After that it was mostly a blur, he railed into you with no stops or pauses, all you could feel was an overwhelming pressure building up in your core and finally a release as your orgasm crept up. After a few more minutes you heard him groaning loudly in your ears and opened your eyes to a sight of wonder, worked up, panting, his wet hair sticking to the greenish skin of his forehead, and a little smile in the corner of his mouth. 

“Breath,” You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath until then, and let out a long sigh followed by a chuckle of relief. His skin was mostly dry now, so his voice was hoarse. 

He pulled out slowly and started kneading the skin of your hip to dispel the tension when he let your leg down, hoping it wouldn't be sore the next day, but you had a different idea.

“Come, let’s get you wet again, I have so many questions to ask you.” You said as you got out of bed and extended one hand. He took it, but instead of going after you he used it to pull you back to bed next to him. 

“Tomorrow,” he signed.   

[insanescriptist]

Flip the Script

Escaping the hotel itself was pretty easy; just walk out. Blended in -which honestly Dan did a lot better at that than Jason expected, because metas usually weren't stealthy unless their abilities could be used for it. Sure they were still two big guys, but a deceptively casual walking pace got them out faster than expected. Thank fuck that computers had upgraded, so his little tablet tucked into his jacket was really all that was needed to hack hotel security.

Except a little miscalculation made itself known in the form of how damn hot it was as Jason headed to where he had parked his vehicle for the trip -riding his bike to Vegas by itself would be a little more stupid than Jason allowed himself to be- so he had a little pick-up truck that his bike was chained down in. A couple blocks away. He wasn't going to park on the Vegas Strip. The expense would be ridiculous.

"You got anything you need to pick up?

"Other than my winnings later?" Dan rolled his eyes.

"Travel light sort of guy. Gotcha." Jason built up his mental profile. Rule of thumb, the more dangerous the meta, the less they had to carry. The more dangerous the normal squishy person, the bigger their arsenal. Not always true, but Superman and Batman were excellent examples of this. Wonder Woman was an excellent example of someone beyond human norms using a couple of tools to augment their capabilities. And then sometimes someone really just needed one tool to do everything, like the Lanterns with their rings.

Initially Jason had planned to rent the same room as his longshot of a lead, so as to scan for clues that might still be there three weeks later. However his earlier work had shown it was currently occupied. A little digging into who had rented it shown it was a honeymoon rental -thank you social media- and his attempt at killing time till the honeymooners left -an itinerary posted to all who cared to look on their socials for fuck's sake, someone please rob them- got busted by Ollie. Might as well consider that lead dead too.

It was Vegas after all, where leads went to die.

Jason continued to listen in on the local JL chatter -Flash and Raven trading comedic jabs as Nightwing finished examining the corpses and coordinating with the LEOs, and O got stuck with identifying them- as he and Dan meandered into a little bougie store a little off the street for drinks -Jason wanted boba tea and Dan got a chocolate milkshake like a basic bitch- and then it was enjoyed on the cafe's second floor as Jason found alternate arrangements for a place to stay. He wasn't going to crash in a Wayne Enterprises paid for Bat safehouse. Not with someone he didn't know. So he was looking for a couple covers to delay Bruce with. Yay wifi on his tablet.

Justice League bullshit was cramping his style, so he couldn't just avoid everyone; no doubt Bruce found it suspicious as fuck he was here at all. No telling what he had said to get Ollie to come seek him out. And here Jason was hanging out with an unknown (read: dangerous) meta. That was bound to raise Bruce's hackles.

"Got any preference for where you're staying, if you're staying in Vegas?"

"Four walls, a roof, running hot water and decent food."

"A man of simple tastes."

"Housing discrimination." Dan says, which was something that had Jason blink.

"Huh. Any other discrimination I should be wary about if I book a room for each of us or a double bed?"

"Going to want to take before and after photos because the scummier ones will claim damage from a meta guest, for the insurance pay-out. Somehow people think I'd burn my pillows and the bed. And the whole room. For Funsies."

Well, okay then. Maybe Jason should use a safehouse then. He didn't want to because Batman was also in town but well. Hmm. Which one to crash? Couldn't crash the Arrow's safehouse they had in the town south of Vegas. Not with Ollie in town. Perhaps one of the League's safehouses? Not with Bruce on his bullshit.

Oh, that was Barbara opening a chat window on his tablet. He'd open that in a bit.

"Pretty sure that the Meta Protection Acts are supposed to make such shit illegal by granting them the same rights as minorities and protections as those disabled but well, illegal doesn't stop people from doing it."

"Never mind that in 'proving' you're a meta, you're also liable to be charged with anything those with means can make stick, if your powers can be dangerous. From assault to insanity. Because in proving you've got powers, you've also proven yourself a possible threat to the community that cannot be disarmed and may not be able to be contained. And since you've now proven you can go against the local powers, legitimate authority or not, with your own powers presumably in ways that cannot be easily countered they really wish to make use of you or be rid of you."

Jason really hoped that Babs was eavesdropping; the tablet did have a microphone to listen to voice commands, even if he never used that feature; it would be child's play to have it listen in and block the notification about the change of settings. He opened the chat. Oh boy, what confirmation that Batman cared more about Red Hood's potential criminal activities than the possible Trigon level magical event. Pair that with the JL chatter and...

Ghosts huh.

No wonder Jason felt comfortable around Dan. One formerly dead guy to a current dead guy. Jason was actually kind of admiring the guy's chill; get summoned to Vegas from the afterlife? Rude as fuck. Jason would be in a mood. And since Dan wasn't gawking at cars, phones or milkshakes, he was likely recently dead.

"Got a last name I could put down on a booking, once I find one? Just need something and if I do it, it's going to be stupid or a name from some classic novel."

Dan played with the straw as he sucked up the last of his chocolate shake. Play for time or more focused on his milkshake? "Nightingale will work."

"Sounds fake."

"Historical. Go back far enough on the family tree."

There Babs, be happy. More information to try and find the guy with. Hopefully it was just like great-grandma's maiden name or something even further back. Because by now she'll have pulled his face off the cameras and run him through all the data bases she can hack into. Because yes, Batman is having her look for him instead of 'how to banish ghosts.' Since the JLD is dealing with the ghost and Nightwing is focusing on the remains of the cultists. So Oracle and her software can identify them.

Multi-tasking and all that.

O: take a safehouse I have in Vegas for the birds O: coordinates <here> J: why should I? O: security; I'll send a friend over J: which friend? O: Canary and her son O: the one you like J: still gonna bluff out a smokescreen

And so Jason blew his metaphorical budget. Except no, he was not. Last minute cancellations got switched to "his" reservations in various hotels. Would it fool a determined Oracle? No, especially not as she was already in his tablet and phone but it would give her rope to hold out and make B skip through. Especially as Jason had fun with the names; Jason Peters, Peter Willis, Jay Robins. The usual "I'm actually terrible at fake names," that the Bats seemed to think of him. Then the less terrible ones like Pete Fox and Jace Lynn Todders. Still equally terrible, but at least more subtle. Still going to get picked up by anyone half competent searching his common variations of his name up. Then there's the more obscure ones he made up on the spot. William Beats, Paul Cox Zucker, Randy Darner-

O: Dick jokes? J: Dick jokes O: (눈_눈) J: ┐(︶▽︶)┌

"More stalker fruitloop family trouble?" Dan asked cradling his chin in his hands, elbows and body leaned on the table. The body language said interested but the face said Dan was full of supervillain mockery if he wanted to.

"Got a friend to help run interference. Knows things are complicated."

"Complicated he says. As if the asshole in the cheese suit's vibes weren't of the controlling asshole type. Good friends with your trouble. That's even more trouble."

"Friends of a sort." Jason hedges. Bruce has people he's friendly with, but Ollie usually isn't one of them.

"Rich people friends, where they're useful to each other and cover for each others for dubiously legal hobbies. Up to and including the potential abuse and exploitation of their charges. Bet he's got a weird basement of a man-cave."

Jason choked on his drink. That wasn't an inaccurate take on things. Green Arrow really only got on the Justice League radar because of Roy inventing the trick arrows and running communications/tech support before he was even Speedy the sidekick. Which being Green Arrow and thus a vigilante was a dubiously legal hobby. More to the point, Green Arrow and therefore Ollie should be paying royalties to the patent of said trick arrows. Instead Ollie took Roy in as a ward who became Speedy, failed to support his side kick and kicked him out at a low point in Roy's life. Which was textbook exploitation. And the Arrow-cave was basically Queen's man-envy of the Batcave, but still qualified as a weird basement.

O: |ω･)ﾉ J: gonna take D with me tho O: if you're sure O: ( ＾▽＾)っ✂╰⋃╯ J: (°ロ°) ! J: Not that D! He's N! As in NO!

Not Dickwing! Dan!

"So why so much interest in you? And not your siblings?"

Hmm, don't lie Jason. Be honest, without being too honest. If Dan could read Ollie's vibes that accurately, he's had plenty of time to read yours. "Local rich guy picked me up off the streets after his first adopted boy moved out. He was lonely and didn't wanna admit it, and I wanted a place to call home again. He wanted his older boy back, since that bridge was burnt at the time. Which was fine when I was smaller, noticed that less, but I got to high school, took control of my education, was passing my accelerated courses, taking AP classes on most of my subjects and doing a few college classes on the side? All that school work and I still found time to help out in the community. Food pantries and such. Meanwhile, he's now somehow thinking I've got the reasoning capability and motivations of an eight year old child, because I had learned my biological father had passed on ages ago, so we're obviously arguing about seemingly everything. Patronizing as fuck."

"While you're in high school and taking college level classes?"

"Exactly. Not just STEM classes but literature and philosophy. Rhetoric. Getting the gen eds over and done with. On track to graduate high school before seventeen and getting an undergrad degree before I'd be nineteen. It was less about my dad being dead and more about rich asshole not telling me that my dad was dead. Followed by the patronizing shit, because he's suddenly acting like I'm a small grieving child, not a teenager who was a caretaker to his mom when she was in and out of the hospital before he was double digits. I know how to manage my grief. Especially that of a parent dying. Dad at least died quick. Caretaking means you get to see the decline up close and personal. It's a crash course in adulting and I took care of her, the apartment and the bills because she couldn't. Not physically, nor mentally by the end. No matter the medication or the drugs. Did it suck that he was dead? Yeah. Did I already know so and got my suspicions confirmed? Also yes. If I could survive on the streets after my mom's death, I could survive the confirmation that he's dead."

"Broken trust, and grieving that more than someone who defined your life more by his absence than his presence."

"Bingo. So now I'm thinking about pulling what my now older brother did and moving out early, before local rich asshole kicks me out and cuts me off, but I've got less friends than he did and those I had all had circumstances of their own." Jason shrugs. Sure, he was never the friendliest, but he wasn't friendless. His friends lives just happened to also suck. Fellow orphans in truth or practically such with their parents being who they were. Eddie and Rose as examples one and two. Then there was Barbara, who was also going through shitty circumstances. Who had just been crippled. Couldn't hide out at the Commish's place when Barbie was rightfully his number one priority. Didn't wanna intrude there. "My best option for space had just been traumatically paralyzed. My second best option was my adoptive older brother, who was traveling with friends. They all pitched in on a place and were in and out on trips when they could afford it. On one hand, empty place to myself when they weren't there and on the other, a number of people I wasn't close to would be in my space, watching the local rich guy's adopted child drama play out, the sequel. The third factor there was I was still fifteen."

Jason tapped at his cup and downed the last of his boba. "Laws had changed a bit, so I had to consider that, factoring in that I was younger than his first boy when properly moving out, instead of just lots of sleepovers at friends. A flag that people ignored because the older boy was just that outgoing. There's further consideration because rich men always have the money to bend the law to their side. So it was a waiting game if I went that way. Which couch surfing, short term it's not the end of the world, but it's annoying and better than the streets. Which honestly, the streets weren't that bad but it's the loneliness that gets to you and I wanted to keep up with the friends I had. Be there when and if I can. At least be an ear to listen."

Toe the line of honesty Jason. "So the local rich guy and I get into our biggest argument yet and I take a walk, talk to old neighbors and such. Scout out what I'd need to prepare for if I decided to take to the streets once more, couch-surf or get kicked out; whichever happens first. Then I discover my biological mother's actually alive; that I had been raised by my father and step-mom. Both had perished before local rich asshole picked me up. Local child services was absolutely a shitshow, so running to the streets was the better option than that. Since the arguments between me and the local rich guy are getting worse, I reach out to meet her. Travel all the way over to the refugee camp she was a volunteer doctor at, because local rich asshole hadn't cut me off yet, like he had my older brother at one point. I get to know her for all of a few hours before she gets murdered and I get seriously injured in a terrorist attack. Local rich guy obviously thinks I'm dead. Later, after some serious veg time, surgeries and healing, I reach back out and he's been freaking out ever since. Which purposeful. Somewhat. Got pissed at where I'd been 'laid to rest,' for reasons," and Jason still hated mahogany wood because it was not a soft wood to dig through, "and how he had taken in another kid that looked similar but from a better economic class than dirt-poor before even a year was up. More impressively fucked is that he blamed me for dying, used it as a cautionary tale for the other teenagers he's amassed around himself when the point of a terrorist attack is to promote fear through death and violence. So they don't you know, run off either."

"Sounds like a genuine fruitloop problem." Jason makes a face, so Dan elaborates. "Rich stalker, poor boundaries since he can't back off, controlling tendencies and manipulative. Sounds like a fruitloop."

"Fruitloop?"

"Nuttier than a fruitcake, each psychosis feeding into each other like a mobius strip? A complete and utter creep that others are blinded to because of their wealth and charisma? Also past experiences where he was less of a creep, explained his sob story and because he passed that charisma check, everyone close gets a negative modifier for their perception checks of him. Those pretty rose color glasses making all the flags look just like flags. instead of warnings."

"Sounds like experience on your end."

"A little. Yours is still ongoing. But you said you had place to crash?"

"Yeah. Gonna crash with the friend of a friend; let her lie to the asshole that I'm not there if he happens to ask."

"That'll work?"

"It's plan A."

"And plan B?"

"Got more than just that."

Flip the Table

Casually eavesdropping on what should be highly secure frequencies, Jason sipped his beer in a sleezy saloon style sports bar somewhere on the Vegas strip, nominally watching college(?) football; he's a hockey fan because baseball's boring as shit to watch and he's never got the appeal about American football. Football to the rest of the world was at least worth watching for the drama. Something had the Justice League in a tizzy and Zatanna -the one who normally covered Vegas when it came to the costumed crazies- was off world; Jason didn't have the details exactly but it sounded like Zatanna was dealing with some magical planar stuff and was not expected back for at least six more days. Assuming all went well.

So like any reasonable person who's going away for a time, she turned on her home security, had the alerts wired over to a friend -in this case Justice League Dark- gave a list of what was needed to be done and when -the pick up my mail and mow my lawn equivalants- went on her trip, trusting that the JLD were watching over her city and it wouldn't be on fire when she got back.

Such glorious hope.

And thus something happened so when Jason pulled into Vegas proper to investigate a desperate -read last hope- lead on a missing person's case, Jason happened to spy one of the lesser members of the JLD losing their shit in the sky. And so in a moment of civic duty, Jason started spying on them.

Magic was not something anyone trained by the Bat really ever got comfortable about, but chances were magic bullshit was going to intervene in his case. Justice League shit spilled over everything, all the time. Ghost cultists tripping Zatanna's necromancy alarms or whatever they were, was not Jason's business. Not unless the presumed cultists -those that had survived- had the person he was looking for.

No, he was looking at a missing person's case and his lead was 1. cold and 2. a longshot and 3. in a city full of tourists and catering staff, where "seen anything unusual lately" could be "there was this trio of tourists arguing how sex with your best friend doesn't count as cheating," or "someone having a meltdown over the delayed shipping of organic blueberries to the hotel," or "Sarah Maria got murdered a couple weeks ago on the job, but I haven't seen any notice about her funeral stuff on her social media, why yes, I do know she's dead, oh, she's dead and I'm an idiot for expecting someone dead to post on their socials their funeral deets."

Point was, he could look and ask all he wanted, beat feet for days, but the chances of this lead panning out were basically so minuscule that Jason could treat this more as a hobby case while on vacation. He still did his due diligence, asked the staff a few questions, called the guests on the same floor during the time period of their stay about how they found their stay, ran into the dead end of shitty business practices -they recorded over their own records every two weeks- and so unless Jason got the ability to do magic and do a "point me!" spell, the case would turn cold. It sucked when it happened but sometimes the evidence wasn't there. Or wasn't noticed or was destroyed before it could be collected. Sometimes people just didn't remember shit until three weeks later, which with some follow up digging gave him the lead to the hotel. Which got him nothing after that.

As Jason Todd didn't gain an innate ability to do magic that he was aware of that actually counted as magic bullshit magic instead of a couple cantrips, all he could do was get a beer and some food in a Vegas style Texas saloon bar. Which not his first choice, but it was full enough no one really paid attention to anyone. Technically a sport's bar but also very much was not. It was also busy enough that Jason ended up getting asked if someone could set with him at his table -which real Jason said hell no to, but cover Jason did agree to-

Oh. Meta. Jason realized quickly. Oh no, he's hot.

His hair is on fire!

How did the server miss that? Most metas don't casually out themselves like that! Too many people willing to target them for whatever power.

That hair was flaming, tied back in a low tail; Jason blinked and the hair flickered color, looked like normal hair -black- and then back to white fire, then black fire, some tv static abomination of color, white hair and then black hair. Another blink and it appeared to be black flames for hair and yeah, Jason closed his eyes. Pointedly ignored the hair thing. If the meta asked, Jason was judging him for the stupid little goatee.

The rest of the meta was built along the same lines as Jason himself, tall, broad and built. Packed with muscle, which was something to make note of; metas usually were more durable and could hit harder, so Jason casually made note to not get hit if a fight broke out.

Which it might, or probably would.

That's just how Jason's luck ran. To shit.

Said meta also ordered food and a beer, didn't even get asked for ID -unfair bias- and judging by the sound, turned in the seat to look at the American football screen that Jason had been ignoring. His hair had at least settled to black flames instead of the glitchy hair.

Of course as this was Vegas, people gambled on outcomes of games too. Which is how Jason learned the meta was rich enough to blow a couple grand -not expensive in the world of supers- but more than what the average person would be comfortable betting.

There were better ways to piss away money than gambling on sports. Like on over priced burgers and onion rings with an order of mozzerella sticks. The burger was good, admittedly Jason's had better and then some party of guys was yelling at the ref on a screen. And yup, that's some altercation with another table but the barman broke it up with a couple of words.

His tablemate muttered something about the ref having made the right call if one of the players wanted to continue a career professionally and Jason used that as social leverage to get a name -Dan, no last name given- and a bit more in-depth explanation on what stakes were going on; he's a hockey guy, not a football guy.

Some time later, Dan had caught him up on the football drama -nothing compared to the hockey drama- and conversation had drifted significantly from sports, lightly touched on family -Dan had siblings he shared little about other than they existed, which fair, they could also be metas and at risk- much like Jason did -he had siblings that existed, no further details- and parents weren't mentioned. Instead a lot of engineering talk, a slide into ethics -Dan's opinion on killing super villains was very much that some people needed Ended- and some small talk about how Dan's high school English teacher cursed in classical book titles.

Soon the easy joy of potential friendship ended when his phone rang; that was the Batman ringtone and Jason felt no guilt hanging up on him. And again. And again.

Then Dick rang and nope. He was not dealing with their shit. Dick would just sweeten up whatever shit B wanted to shovel.

And then Oracle's ringtone rang. Oh, now that was serious. Justice League shit spilling into his life again. No fucking doubt about it.

"Uh-huh, so what's up? Because I gotta say, I am a couple drinks in and the whole bar is waiting for one of the football teams to fumble or foul up their next play so they can throw down."

"Jay-" She started because much like Bruce, she would rather go straight into the mission, and Jason absolutely had wrong-footed her. Because instead of making excuses to leave, Jason had absolutely stayed. So now she had to rephrase things on the fly because who knows who might be listening in. "Hey, it's on the news that the Justice League is showing up in Vegas; something about investigating something magical showing up."

"Uh-huh, that's not a surprise. There was some magic ninny flying in a panic earlier. I decided it wasn't my business."

"I hadn't heard that," -bullshit, she just hadn't double-checked that herself yet- "but what I did hear that some cult might have succeeded in bringing something over."

"Uh-huh. Well, no one's praying to Cthulu yet, there's been no troublemaking beyond the usual human malice and nothing's on fire."

"We were just concer-" And Jason hung up on Oracle.

He'd pay for that later, but petty was satisfying now.

"Sounded important."

"Was bullshit."

"So an entity summoned by a cult that tripped a bunch of magicians into a tizzy-"

Yeah, those sharp ears were not for show. Enhanced hearing check. "That's a bunch of incompetents panicking." Time for his good guess to hit or miss. "You're not going to decide to destroy Vegas, are you?"

"Done it before, doing it again seems pointlessly petty." Statements Jason wasn't going to prod further right now.

"And what if Wisconson University loses?"

"Might flip the table." Dan shrugged.

"More beer?" Jason asked.

"Sure."

[shhtickerbook]

Baby Feathers

Merry Christmas!

(Helluva Age regression ficlet that takes place post sinsmas)

I don’t see enough fics that have caregivers who want to try regressing!!! So I decided to fill that void and the soul destroying events of sinsmas gave me lots of agere fodder. have a lovely holiday everybody!!! Fic below!

Stolas had everything planned. It was new years Eve and both Stolas and Blitzø had the holiday just to themselves. Millie and Moxxie were spending the holiday with Millie’s family in Wrath, whilst Loona was going to another party at Beelzebub’s. Stolas had spent many a New Year’s Eve at insufferable galas, but there had always been one silver lining. Both himself and Via would slip away from the ball, where the two would sit on the roof of their mansion and watch the first new year’s moon come to rise. He still hadn’t realised that this would be the first year where they wouldn’t be able to share their tradition. He couldn’t stop thinking of Octavia, their last interaction cruelly playing on loop in his mind. His heart was breaking with every second, but at least he had Blitzø. If he hadn’t been grieving so painfully, maybe he’d be able to enjoy himself.

There was one aspect he found great comfort in though, and that was being able to take care of Blitzø. Over the past few months he’d been introduced to the Imp’s smaller side, which had taken a while for Blitzø to open up about it properly. He was a pretty headstrong character, and struggled s lot when it came to expressing any kind of vulnerability.

Stolas had actually found out by accident, with Blitzø regressing involuntarily after a bad night terror. Stolas’s heart had broke when he found his partner looking so afraid and vulnerable. Blitzø wasn’t able to really explain what was happening, but Stolas was already a parent, it was second nature to know how to comfort little ones after a bad dream. The next morning Blitzø had explained what happened, sometimes he found himself slipping younger in age, usually when he was stressed or was reminded of bad things. Especially since he lost his mother, she was the only person who treat him with gentle nurturing care. When he lost her, he never got to feel that again. So when he began to have these episodes, it became a part of himself he had to hide out of shame.

For a long time he continued to suppress this side of himself, pushing away all these childish longings. But he could only hold it back for so long until his body decided for him. When he did find out, Stolas was almost too supportive of it, finding this side of Blitzø absolutely darling. Lavishing him with toys, clothes and all kinds of things he never even considered trying. Stolas even found himself getting a lot out of caring for him too, it made him feel needed.

-

Blitzø had to admit that it felt great to not hide this side of him anymore. Stolas had officially seen every episode of that pony show, and helped Blitzø brush the manes of every single horse figurine he owned. But ever since the trial, neither Blitzø or Stolas had the time or the mental energy to take come time to relax.

Stolas had felt so guilty that in his current state he hadn’t been able to care for Blitzø, and had even collected a set of gifts for him to open from Sinsmas. On the day itself he’d set aside his little gifts so that he wouldn’t have to open them in front of the others. So he’d made the decision to surprise him with a “little sinsmas” on new years, when they knew they’d have the house all to themselves.

Stolas woke up early to get out the gifts he had stored away. Thankfully he had purchased these before he’d lost all of his money and possessions. But when he did get up, he felt awful. The former prince had slept terribly, tossing and turning as he once again replayed what had happened with Via. He was then cursed with unpleasant dreams that only tortured him further. All he wanted was his daughter, but she wanted nothing to do with him.

Regardless of how he felt, he pushed himself through it, today was for Blitzø. The imp had done so much for him recently, he had to pay it back somehow. He quietly looked through Blitzø’s wardrobe in search of some of his little clothes, choosing an oversized hoodie with some colourful horse motifs. It even had an adorable woollen mane that went down the hood. Last of all he collected a plastic box at the bottom of the wardrobe, stolas recognising it. Inside Blitzø kept all of his baby things, pacifiers, some teethers and other equally adorable equipment. It was adorned with multiple stickers, all in the horse variety.

As he entered back into the main room, stolas began to gather some ingredients for breakfast. The plan was to make Blitzø some oatmeal for breakfast, which was simple enough. Blitzø always liked it drizzled with cherry syrup, and if he was feeling little enough he’d even let Stolas feed him.

Stolas carefully arranged the gifts wrapped in coloured paper by the tree, flicking on the fairy lights for added effect. He loved the small touches of sinsmas, indulging in the little details that made it feel magic. Blitzø had mentioned how sinsmas wasn’t really a special thing when he was a kid, the circus would perform through the whole holiday. Which included an extra special sinsmas day show which was very popular, but it meant he never got to really enjoy the holiday.

He thought of a little blitz crouched by the tree, tearing open coloured parcels in glee. You couldn’t help but smile. As a final touch, he pulled the blinds open to let the light in. Such a simple action turned into a huge mistake. As Stolas glanced outside, his gaze was caught to the horizon. Peeking just through the clouds was the new moon, only barely visible. By tonight it would be hanging at the peak of the sky, even in daylight it was beautiful.

How could something so beautiful destroy him so painfully? Stolas remembered everything, his special tradition with his daughter. He thought of Octavia, sitting alone and watching the moon rise. The way she spat her words towards her father, looking like she genuinely despised him. Who was he kidding? It didn’t look like he hated him, she did hate him. Stolas just sank to the floor, his beak quivering as he felt tears building in his eyes. It was all too much. All he wanted was to hold his daughter in his arms again, but would that ever happen again?

she hated him.

she HATED him.

-

Blitzø turned over in bed, dozily reaching over into the empty space of his bed. He’d gotten so used to sleeping next to somebody again, so when he didn’t feel any feathers in his grasp, it pulled him out from his snoozing.

“Mmme- Stolas?”

He mumbled, eyes fluttering open. As suspected, Stolas wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Pushing himself up onto his elbow before rubbing his eyes, recently Stolas had been the one who stayed in bed. Blitzø would usually let him sleep in for as long as he needed, sometimes leaving a note if he had to leave for work.

With a yawn Blitzø pulled himself up, before hearing something from outside the room. It took him a second to realise in his sleep addled state, but he could clearly hear a sadly familiar sound of crying. Within a second he’d jumped from the bed and thrown open the door.

“Stolas? are you okay?”

In hindsight it was a pretty stupid question, especially when he found said bird on the floor of his sitting room. He was curled in on himself, sobbing bitterly. It was uncomfortably reminiscent of what he’d been like when Octavia had rejected him.

“Hey hey- what’s going on?”

Blitzø joined him on the floor, resting a hand over Stolas’s shaking back. Stolas flinched at the touch at first, but couldn’t help but fall into Blitzø’s hold. Blitzø could feel Stolas’s feathers quivering as he tried to control his sobbing. The Imp couldn’t help but notice that a lot of his little stuff was scattered across the room.

His box of pacifiers and that one hoodie he liked to wear, there were also some new gifts under the tree.

“I had planned to- I’m sorry, i just wanted to make today special for you.”

Stolas whimpered, feeling like he’d ruined everything. He thought he would feel better today, if he got to care for Blitzø. But right now owl felt as fragile as glass, but Blitzø held onto him tight and securely. It clicked as he realised what Stolas had been trying to do, his expression softening.

“Oh stolas, it’s okay.”

“It’s not! All I’ve done is mope around and you’ve had to do everything for me. Not to mention the money you’ve spent and the time I’ve taken up. I had it all planned, you deserved a break-“

It took him a little time to string together his response, tears continuing to dribble down his feathers. He felt pathetic, how was he going to care for a regressed Blitzø when he was this much of a mess? It furthered his suspicion that was just a complete failure when it came to any kind of caregiving.

“Stolas listen to me, it’s okay. It’s.. really sweet you thought of this.”

Blitzø gently tilted his beak to meet his face, the tearstained bird’s expression tugging something on his heartstrings. He looked around, spotting the half made breakfast and carefully arranged presents. All the effort he’d made, for him no less.

“I don’t deserve you.”

He chuckled, managing to pull the lanky heap of owl closer into his lap the best he could. His statement seemed to reactivate Stolas tears though, who cried intelligibly into his chest. It was the other way around, it was Stolas that didn’t deserve him.

Whilst Blitzø still wasn’t entirely sure on what had triggered this, it didn’t take an idiot to know it was related to Octavia. In the time Blitzø had known Stolas, he’d never seen him like this. The Goetian Prince was so broken, fragile. But thankfully Blitzø had some experience in that feeling already.

He let him cry it out for a few minutes, with the shoulder of his shirt becoming very wet. He ran his fingers up and down Stolas’s feathers, gently preening him as he murmured comfort. The sobs eventually died down into sad sniffling, but the grip around him still hadn’t broken. Although Stolas’s heart was breaking, Blitzø’s grip around him was at least keeping said shards in place.

As Blitzø rubbed his back, he was hit with a sudden idea. He felt a little guilty that Stolas had gone through all this trouble for him, especially as he wasn’t feeling anywhere near small. And as much as he cared for Stolas, he couldn’t fake his regression either. Anyways, he didn’t feel like he was the one need in comfort right now.

“Hey, here’s an idea. I know we’ve never talked about this before, but what if you let me take care of you today?”

Stolas stirred a little with a frown, peeling his crispy feathered face away from Blitzø’s chest.

“What do you mean?”

“You take care of me when I’m feeling low, why not let me baby you for once? You’re lookin’ like you need it.”

The more Blitzø thought about it, the more he wanted to give it a try. There was something about the forlorn bird in his arms that melted his heart a little. Was this how Stolas felt with him? Nah, he couldn’t he this cute.

“No, you’re my baby. I care for you, I care for people- it’s what I like to do.”

Stolas suddenly felt flustered, face lighting up bright red. He’d never even considered the idea of swapping roles before. Blitzø was his baby, never the other way around. He wasn’t sure if it felt right to him, he wanted to be the one caring for Blitzø.

“Yeah, and you do a great fuckin job at it. So why not let me return the favour, you might even like it?”

Blitzø teased as he gently pinched the owls red cheeks, already delighting in the idea. Stolas found himself wavering a little, especially with how shivery and weak he was. He looked over at the gifts guiltily, but Blitzø already had it covered.

“Look we could try it today, if you don’t like it, we’ll stop. We can save the gifts for tomorrow, and then you can have your turn babying me, sound okay?”

Blitzø sounded so sure that Stolas found it hard to disagree. Although it still felt very alien, he definitely appreciated this cuddling part right now. So in the end gave a defeated shrug, Blitzø’s face lighting up.

“You just relax and let me take care of everything, feathers.”

Stolas shook for a second, before burying his beak into Blitzø’s shoulder again. Fresh tears erupted seemingly for no specific reason. But this time there was a sense of catharsis that came with it, to be able to cry in safety. Was this how Blitzø felt when Stolas would comfort him whilst small? He hoped so, as it felt pretty damn good.

Blitzø began to rock him back and forth, kissing the crown of his feathers. He gave him a few more minutes to cry, Stolas had been forcing himself into long periods of numbness recently and clearly needed it. Eventually Blitzø shifted Stolas to the side a little, who whined at the movement.

“Lemme just move ya onto the couch, I can’t feel my fuckin’ legs anymore.”

With quite a bit of effort, Blitzø managed to lift the bird onto the couch. Unfolding the blanket over the armrest and tucking it around his skinny frame. Whilst no longer sobbing, Stolas had been reduced to the awkward hiccupy stage. Blitzø told ahold of his hand, squeezing softly to get his attention.

“Hey try and breathe a little, in and out.”

The imp demonstrated, and Stolas tried his hardest to follow. But he found himself falling back into the unhelpful gulping, even with Blitzø’s help.

“Here’s an idea.”

Blitzø turned and rifled through his little box, finding an unopened package. Blitzø himself still hadn’t used these ones as he didn’t like the colours. Stolas turned to see what Blitzø was doing, with his pupils pin-pricking when he spotted it. In his hands was a package of pacifiers, a pack of three different shades of lilac to dark blue.

“You’re doing a shitty job at breathing right now, try one of these. You’ll have no choice but to breathe a little slower.”

He spoke so casually, holding out a dark blue pacifier. Stolas had seen this kind of item many, many times now. But now when it was being presented to him, rather from him? It felt a little scary. Blitzø watched as stolas internally fought with himself, rolling his eyes.

“Cmon, open that beak for me, feathers.”

He used the pet name for the second time, which made Stolas melt a little. As if beyond his control he held his beak open, Blitzø placing the pacifier there before he could change his mind.

The sensation was certainly strange at first, the bird wasn’t really sure what to do with it. But his body was still hellbent on breathing hard, so he focused on trying to breathe nasally instead. Without realising he began to suck on the bulb, and breathed in and out. If it hadn’t been such sad circumstances, Blitzø would’ve definitely taken a photo. It was just too fucking cute. Instead he joined Stolas on the couch, still demonstrating his breathing in time to Stolas’s.

“Feels good doesn’t it?”

Stolas looked up at him lazily, his was face a little red self consciously. But he couldn’t lie, the rhythmic sensation of the pacifier was incredibly soothing. With each minute he understood just why Blitzø liked them so much. There was a cloudy fuzzy sensation in his head, one that forced him away from all the sad and scary feelings. It was a blissful escape, but it wasn’t numbing him the way his pills used to.

So he nodded at his partner, squeezing his hand back tight. They spent the next twenty minutes just cuddling, and Stolas honestly felt the calmest he had in months. Blitzø eventually had to pry the owl off of him to sort out breakfast, turned on the TV for Stolas. He considered what to put on, before setting on an incredibly corny fairytale movie about a princess. But it was worth it to see the way Stolas’s eyes lit up when it came on.

Blitzø made himself a cup of coffee, and poured one of Stolas’s weird fancy teas into one of his own sippy cups. Choosing the moonlight unicorn design, after forcing stolas to watch every episode of his horse show, Stolas had eventually chosen his favourite character. When he returned to the couch, Stolas shuffled over to curl into his chest again. The pacifier still hasn’t left his beak since placing it there, he looked undeniably adorable. Blitzø was just so happy to see him looking content for the first time in days. The two could just spend their day with each-other’s company, enjoying every moment.

-

Neither demon even made it to the end of the movie, the two of them passed out in a tangle of limbs. The bird with his head curled underneath Blitzø’s chin, the imp’s hand subconsciously still stroking his feathers. Blitzø had gotten so used to himself being the baby in their relationship, that he’d never considered how much he’d enjoy swapping places. The remainder of their day continued in a similar fashion, Blitzø leading Stolas along in hand. And to his surprise Stolas was a very quiet little, who didn’t speak much for the rest of the day.

It was different than when he was quiet when he was sad though, Stolas would still giggle if Blitzø said something funny and was clearly enjoying himself. Stolas just felt happy that he didn’t have to try and think of words right now, he could just be. He allowed Blitzø to dress him in some loose cuddly clothes, and even hand feed him little squares of pancake when he felt up to eating.

Blitzø loved learning more about this little side of him. And Stolas found himself embracing a part of himself he’d never even uncovered. They spent the day indoors, playing games and watching movies. In the evening when Blitzø was busy running a bath for him, Stolas couldn’t help but glance outside. The moon was beginning to rise in the early evening, himself and Blitzø agreed to head to bed before midnight. The whole new year’s celebration never interested him too much, he really only ever used it as an excuse to get wasted.

Stolas pulled the pacifier from his beak and dropped it to the floor. Feeling the fog of his small space drift away, he took in a deep breath. Slipping outside onto the balcony, he dared himself to look up at the moon. Giving anything just for one more moment with Octavia, wondering what she was doing right now.

“I know you hate me, and that you can’t even hear me- But I love you so very much.”

He spoke to himself quietly, not breaking eye contact with the rising moon. Hoping that just maybe Octavia could somehow get the message. He stayed there for a little while, not even realising the slow tears dripping down his face until he felt a hand on his. Blitzø didn’t say anything, he stood aside the Owl for a while until he stirred from his trance.

“I got your bath ready, even added a bunch of those bath nukes you like.”

“Bath bombs- you mean.”

Stolas couldn’t help but correct, although he still sounded sad. Blitzø held onto his hand and lead him back inside, finding the pacifier abandoned on the floor.

“Hey you still want this buddy?”

He held it up, unsure if Stolas was feeling completely big again. The owl looked at the object, clearly considering it. He watched the Imp as he stared up at him with genuine adoration. Instead of a verbal response, he just took the pacifier back and allowed himself to sink back into that comforting headspace. The Goetian prince stood tall above Blitzø, and to any old person they must’ve looked ridiculous. But Blitzø looked up at the tall owl and only saw a little baby bird, one that was in desperate need of some love and care.

“Cmon then baby feathers, I have a whole collection of rubber duck horses just waiting to play with ya-“

Merry Christmas y’all ❤️❤️❤️

[soohiefan13]

MOMOKARUN - roomies

ੈ♡˳ a continuation of my "roomies head cannons" post (if u haven't read it yet, you should totally go read it either before or after you read this bc it's fire if i may say so myself.

notes: 2.8k words. warning(s):

ੈ♡˳

music was thumping in their ears. they weren't at a party or anything. they were just in momo's new bedroom. well, not new new. momo had lived there a good three months already. with her (low-key fine) roomie.

the roomie in question was in his bedroom. no music of his own. he was mostly just involuntarily listening the fast bass line of whatever the hell momo and her friends were listening to. honestly, ken was getting a little irritated. this was his one night out of the week that he had to study and relax. every other day, he was practicing with his club or going to work. he liked living with momo, but times like these made him wish he had taken advantage of the roommate matching resources. he just sighed and grabbed his noise cancelling ear buds. if he had to listen to something, it was gonna be something he wanted to listen to.

"I don't know, girl! he's hot stuff!" muko said loudly while looking in the mirror and pulling her hair into different hairstyles. "y'all haven't ever even flirted a little?"

momo threw a pillow at her girlfriend and rolled her eyes. "dude. if you haven't noticed, he's a total nerd."

muko and miko both deadpanned and turned to momo. "girl. if you haven't noticed, that's literally your type." muko stated. then miko piped up.

"also, I don't know who you think you are! did you just forget that you two freaks are studying the same nerdy occult stuff!"

"well, yea! but he's studying aliens and all that UFO bullshit! i'm studying genuine stuff: spirits and the supernatural!" momo said proudly.

her friends deadpanned again. "right... right..."

"whatever. you two are studying- what is it again? dress up games?" she insulted.

miko whipped around. "bitch! I don't wanna hear that noise whenever you step out wearing something made by us two. and you'll look totally hot in it, too."

momo chuckled, applying a big false eyelash to top off her gyaru makeup look. all three of the girls were practicing their skills. since they were finally allowed to wear makeup out and about everyday. muko wore it anyway, but boy, did she stay in detention.

"honestly, momo. you could use more practice." muko blurted out, a plan flowering into her mind.

"um, rude! you couldn't have said that a little nicer?" momo whined, staring at her makeup in a handheld mirror and working hard to decipher what exactly she was doing wrong.

"i'm just sayin', it might help to practice on a fresh face..." muko said, raising her eyebrows at miko. momo just cocked her head to the side, confused.

miko smiled mischievously. "yea... maybe that cute roomie of yours would be up to letting you practice on his mug."

momo rolled her eyes, touching up her eyeliner. "yea right. okarun would never agree to that. he's kinda uptight."

the girls dropped their jaws. "okarun?! what the shit kinda name is that?"

momo blushed. "well, that's not his real name. it's just a nickname I gave to him since I can't stand to hear to stupid name." the girls stared at her, urging her to continue. momo sighed big and loud. "ugh! his real name is... ken takakura."

they busted out laughing, jumping on to the bed next to her. they shook her around and hit each other, trying to recover from what momo just said.

"girl, are you serious! you're living with a ken takakura and you're not asking him out already?!" muko shouted. momo shoved her hands over her mouth, afraid ken okarun would hear. "give him a chance!" she said, muffled.

"seriously, momo. don't sell yourself short. you're a cute girl and ken seems like a sweetie. start off easy. ask to do his makeup tonight."

"tonight?! but I thought you two were sleeping over..." momo pouted.

the girls grabbed their overnight bags and bedazzled phones, which had cute little charms hanging off of them. "not anymore! you've got a mission to accomplish tonight. see ya!"

and with that, the two girls left. momo was sitting on her bed, wanting so badly to scream and chase them down. but she didn't want to disturb okarun. her phone rang, causing her to jump. it was miko.

"what?!" momo grumbled loudly into her phone.

"if you don't call us back tonight with an update on how everything went down, we're totally coming back tomorrow and talking to ken takakura ourselves."

momo groaned out, slamming her phone shut and then throwing it down on her bed. it couldn't hurt to ask. the worst that could happen was that okarun would say no, then momo could go to bed. but what if he said yes? she would have to sit super close to him and touch his face a ton and stare at his super cute face. ugh! she really didn't want to do this, but at the same time... sitting close to him and touching him and staring at his super cute face didn't sound horrible. who was she kidding? it sounded perfect. momo sighed. she slowly got up and trudged into her bathroom. she spent a good ten minutes removing her makeup, washing her face, and applying some skincare products. she spent the silent time thinking about how to go about this in the least awkward way. asking wasn't super awkward, but actually doing the makeup would be. she couldn't handle his big doe eyes staring at her the whole time.

that's it! she would ask to practice eye makeup on okarun! that way, his eyes would have to be shut the majority of the time.

"alright..." momo sighed, her makeup bag in tote. "let's get this over with."

she stepped quietly through their common area and tiptoed down his hallway. she kinda hoped he was sleeping.

softly, momo knocked a few times on his door. no answer. confused, she pressed her ear against his door, and knocked again. still no answer. his lights were on so he couldn't be sleeping. was he just ignoring her on purpose? without thinking, she just pushed his bedroom door open.

there he was. laying on his bed. shirtless. of course he was shirtless. stupid muko. stupid miko. momo stared at him. he had his arm covering his eyes, a hand resting on his toned abdomen. he also had... ear buds in. seriously? momo groaned and shuffled toward him. she smacked him on the arm.

okarun jumped up. he pulled his ear bud out and sat up straight. putting his glasses back on, he looked up at momo. "hey miss ayase. did you need my help with something?"

she stood in front of him, head turned to the side and refusing to look at him. "um, no. well, yes, actually. would you be willing to let me practice some eye makeup on you? I know it's not super manly or whatever, but miko says i'll get better at it if I practice on a fresh face. it's stupid but you're the only person I could ask. those two bitches conveniently left right after making the suggesting it."

okarun took out the second ear bud and stood up, standing a little close to momo. she stiffened. "yea, sure. if it's important to you, i'd be happy to help."

"cool." momo mumbled. they stood their for a second in awkward silence. "um, could you put a shirt on real quick. i'll be waiting on the couch..."

okarun blushed and chuckled nervously. "yea... uh, sorry. i'll be a out in a jiffy."

miss ayase spun around on her heels after ken shut the door. once he was alone, he pinched the bridge of his nose, embarrassed. jiffy. what does that even mean? and why would he stand so close to this girl shirtless? he could've made her uncomfortable. that was the last thing ken wanted. they got along really well, other than the occasional argument over running shoes or stolen food. they spent a lot of time together, studying or sharing meals. sometimes it felt like the two of them were already couple in ken's mind. they did just about everything couples did, safe for the romantic stuff. of course, ken thought about the romantic stuff, more often than he'd admit. she was pretty and, despite being the most stubborn person on the planet, she was a good person to be around. she was extremely supportive and always made sure ken was taking care of himself. she would make him hearty dinners the day before he had a track meet and would stay up extra late to study with him if he was feeling academically insecure about a certain subject. and she was pretty. ken didn't realize it, but his gaze on her lingered. he adored her messy hair, the way it flicked up and the way her bangs shaped her face when she pulled her hair up. he also liked the way she dressed. very comfy and casual, but she just made it look good. she had a nice body, too. a little curvy, with long legs and a little more muscle than you'd expect. ken felt like she would fit in his hands just right-

god, ken! don't be a pervert!

he shook his head, as if he could fling the flush of pink off his cheeks. ken isn't sure if he can handle sitting so close to miss ayase. he was already getting worked up just thinking about her-

"okarun?" momo called, a little worried he fell asleep.

ken slapped himself on the face and sighed. be normal.

"sorry, I just needed to rinse my face off." he lied.

okarun plopped down next to momo. he turned the TV on and flicked through the channels until he got to their most watched channel- sci-fi. an alien invasion movie played quietly as okarun sat and waited for momo to get her makeup sorted. he watched her hands intently as she thumbed through different eye liners and brushes.

he wanted them to hold his face already.

"you ready?" momo asked.

"yes." okarun answered. he was a little quick with his response.

"alright." momo uncapped a black felt-tip eyeliner pen, giving it a small shake. her eyes flickered up to his, a small feeling of nervousness bubbling up inside of her. "try not to move too much. this would totally suck to get in your eyes."

finally, her non dominant hand cupped okarun's cheek, holding him still and positioning his head properly. she began applying it underneath his eyes. they were quiet as she mapped out a shape. then, she applied a thick line to his upper lash line. she took a moment to regain her composure since his eyes were finally closed for this part. his face was totally soft in her hands and the pout she was squeezing onto his lips was absolutely adorable. momo zoned out, staring at his cute features for about ten seconds. okarun, curious, opened his doe eyes, causing momo to snap out of it.

she snatched her hand away from his face, digging through her makeup bag to avoid eye contact.

"I didn't know you were so into makeup..." okarun said, trying to ease the awkwardness.

"uh... yea. I wanted to wear it throughout highschool, but I didn't want to go through all of the hassle of getting in trouble every other day. that was more muko's speed..." momo said, pulling out a white concealer. "look up for me."

okarun did as told as she applied the white concealer right under his eye. she fanned it with her hands so it would dry faster. he grabbed a mirror, curious to see what she was doing to him.

"this looks cool!" he encouraged. "is working on a 'fresh face' helping you?"

momo smiled at him. "yea... you're a good canvas."

they stared at each other for a moment before momo broke eye contact to grab some eye shadow. "wanna pick out your color?"

"sure. uh... how about blue?"

momo dipped into a pan of pastel blue eye shadow. he closed his eyes, and she dragged the pigment across his lids until she was satisfied. then she added some fake lashes to his top and bottom lashes and topped everything off with a little glitter. she popped the cap back on the glitter eye shadow and plopped a hand held mirror into okarun soft hands.

"what do you think?"

he looked at his reflection. "as far as I know, this looks pretty good. I don't know much about makeup but it looks nice to me. all though, when you replicate this on yourself, you should do pink instead." he paused, contemplating on whether not he should keep talking. "the pink would look good on you... just about anything looks good on you."

momo's eye widened, the eye shadow falling out of her hand and hitting the ground. okarun quickly picked it up for her.

"are you okay?"

"you think i look good?" momo asked.

okarun scratched the back of his neck, his face turning pink. "yea... i've always thought you were pretty, miss ayase."

her heart skipped a beat.

"thanks." she mumbled nervously, trying to think of something to say. "you're pretty, too."

okarun's eye widened this time, then he couldn't help but let out a laugh. momo shoved her face in her hands.

"no! I didn't mean pretty. I just meant, like-"

"any good looks of mine are thanks to you. you did me up nice." okarun smiled at her. momo blushed.

"not all of them." she admitted. "you have cute hair."

she brought her slender hand up to his head and let one of his curls wrap around her finger. okarun leaned into her touch unconsciously. she ran her fingers through his messy hair until she got to the undercut at the nape of his neck.

"i especially like this, here." her nails grazed the short hair, causing okarun to screw his eyes shut and shutter. he could sit and let her play with his hair all night. he kept his eyes closed and leaned more into her touch, his lips falling against her wrist. unconsciously, he wrapped his fingers around her arm, pulling her palm to his lips and planting a soft kiss there.

the two nerds froze. momo snatched her arm away and okarun scooted away from her entirely.

"i'm so sorry, miss ayase! I don't know why I did that." he shoved his face into his palms, muffling his speech. "I'm an awkward guy-"

"that's okay!" momo said a little louder than intended, trying to cut him off before she lost her mind. "here! there are some makeup removing wipes. i'm gonna head to bed. I'll see you in the morning. oh, um. don't forget to rinse after using these. ok. goodnight."

and with that, momo snatched up her makeup bag and scrambled into her bedroom. she tossed her bag to the side and plopped facedown onto her bed. after a moment, she dialed tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum. she couldn't have those too screwing up this awkward situation any worse.

meanwhile, ken stood in his bathroom, scrubbing his eyes of the makeup. why did he do that? what was he thinking? momo could've slapped him across the face, or worse; laughed in his face! he probably made her so uncomfortable. why did he have to screw up their perfectly normal living situation.

he made sure to rinse his face off, then crept into bed. he laid on his back, staring at the ceiling as if momo's reciprocated feelings lie hidden in it. okarun liked momo. he wanted to be with her- more than roommates. he wanted them to kiss, and cuddle, and go on dates. he wanted to pay for her meals and surprise her with cool hidden talents. he wanted to see her dressed up, her hair in that ponytail he liked so much. he wanted to sleep next to her; to hold her close to him, easing her restlessness and soaking in her warmth. he wanted to wake up next to her, plant a kiss on her warm cheek and then head into the kitchen and put on her morning coffee.

but did she want any of that with him?

momo tossed her phone to the floor, still processing the events. she stared at her palm, burning a hold into the spot where okarun's lips were only a little while ago. it tingled. she wanted more. momo wanted more of okarun. she wished he would've kissed her on the lips and that they spent the night on the couch together, a stupid sci-fi movie quietly in the background. she wanted play with his hair and see the way he melted into her touch again. she wanted to go on adventures with him, make memories and share experiences with just them. she wanted to make him meals everyday and attend his track meets, so she could be the loudest one in the audience, cheering him on.

but did he want any of that with her?

duh! these two morons. as book smart as they are, you would think they'd be decent at catching a damn clue. maybe they'd figure it out in the morning.

ੈ♡˳

[itsallmouthwashing]

Tulpar- Band AU, Character descriptions

I cannot draw- so have some written descriptions and tidbits about the members of Tulpar! I'm planning more bullet points tomorrow but contemplating how much I want to give away ;)

It's very late, I want to add more but I also want to get these OUT! I have much much more planned so don't worry all the details will come out

Bullet Points here

ANYA

Our goth bhaddie

Mid-short black hair, undyed (a NATURAL goth queen)

Usually with purple eyeshadow and black lipstick. Her makeup isnt too intricate, but sometimes she likes to do a classic goth look (white foundation, black EVERYWHERE, the works) when she’s feeling fancy. Later when their band goes much more hardcore, she rocks the look more often. It makes her feel powerful and confident on stage!

YES she has Doc Martens. NO she doesn't wear them. They make her FEET HURT!!!

Still likes jogging! Is that jog to the nearest Burger King? Sometimes! 

Her first tattoo is the one she gets with the crew when Tulpar gets signed :)

Has her ears and her bottom lip pierced. She plays with her lip piercing when she’s studying

She picked up bass at 12 

Does Daisuke’s and Curly’s makeup sometimes :)

Perfer’s purple nail polish :)

DAISUKE

I put in my Ghost Adventure’s AU that Dai would have dyed his hair pink or purple, so this barbie has pink hair :) He’s got a purple fringe :) Probably short-- think about base game Sims 4 short emo hair-- that one!

Loves to paint his and the crews nails, especially for concerts! It happens so often that it becomes ritual and start times will go over if they aren't finished in time. Daisuke WILL get this hand right and the fans WILL understand (they always do!)

Loves to pair undershirts with his collection of Hawaiian shirts. Of course, his pink hibiscus is a staple, but so is the mesh/fishnet unders he puts on when he starts to transition to an alternative style. 

picked up drums around 15, but got really focused on it and mastered them fairly quickly before they went pro

Prefers his nail polish to match with his shirt that day!

JIMMY

Does not have dyed hair either, but he likes to keep it long-ish. It hides his face better but also gets in the way when he doesn't want it to. 

Had a battle jacket, but the sleeves got damaged when he hosted a bonfire and he did not pay attention to the fucking bonfire. That's alright though, he turned into a battle vest!

Overall more of a grunge aesthetic/style

YES his crust pants are REAL stop ASKING HIM !! 

Songwriting has been a part of him since he was little. it was his way to vent, a way to cope, a way to be in control of the narrative

Didn't know when he was younger, but Jimmy has perfect pitch. When he figures this out, he boasts about it in his guitar classes

Buuuuuut it just means the other kids asked him to turn their guitars. That stopped very quickly after he smashed someone's guitar.

Picked up guitar when he was 8. His dad was going to throw it out, but little Jimmy insisted he keep it and that he would find someone who would buy it off of him. Maybe a teacher at school or something.

But instead go buying it from him, a teacher sits him down and teaches him how to play. He gets so lost in it, he begs the teacher to keep it here and teach him more after school. That teacher also teaches him how to write music!

Learns how to do makeup because he’s jealous of Anya- always touching his face so gently to fix his makeup. Quickly learns that all he can really do is his own eyeliner, and even then it’s mid

He’s trying though! (when Jimmy clams the fuck down he eventually goes to Anya and asks her to teach him. They have a nice bonding moment. (the worms demand more, so more there will be- here when I post)

Prefers black nail polish, demands he does it himself (Curly convinces him to let Dai do with Jimmy can't get his hands to stop shaking before a concert. Dai continues to do them after)

Bracelets and chains out the waazoo. When he warms up enough, he lets the band borrow some for shows. (Dai does attempt to actually steal one at some point. Jimmy breaks his nose over it (The worms have plans, you’ll find out why!)

Will! It! Boof! Welcome to Jimmy’s favorite game show! Can it be smoked? He’s fucking got it baybeeee!!

That is to say, he smokes cigarettes, vapes, weed, carts, dabs- yeah man. At least the things that wont get him in serious trouble with the law (at least… not for a little bit…) 

CURLY

The oldest of the group, beside Swansea when he makes his appearance. 

Mid-short blond hair, also undyed. He does get a perm sometimes. When Jimmy does missing, he has a full breakdown and dyes his hair black, but that's later that's later thatslaterthatdlater

Has snakebites and an eyebrow piercing 

Nipple piercings WHO SAID THAT 

When the band goes pro, Pony Express records demands the front man have a certain image because thats what’s hot with audiences and they need to bring in as much revenue as possible with their first album or they get dropped 

Picked up guitar freshman year of high school when he was accidentally enrolled in a guitar class. Some kid said he had perfect pitch, and Curly thought he would be the perfect person to ask about turning his guitar

Only he misunderstood. Though he asked him to tune it for him- Maybe he heard someone ask him about that earlier? He took the guitar with a smile, then smashed It to the ground like he was killing a bug.

The end of freshman year, just before the final for the class, some kid came up to him to tell him his instrument was out of tune. and that he could show him if he'd like. So he doesn't get bumped a letter grade, ya know?

The kid tunes it- just in time, because Grant's name was just called from the now empty class room.

Sophomore year, Curly is enrolled in a choir class, where he discovers his love and talent for singing. Sometimes when he does solos in the classroom, he feels someone watching him from the window in the door.

Prefers yellow nail polish! He loves the contrast of his nails against his outfit since he’s usually in all back 

Wears mostly suits. It's what his parents put him in growing up, so he has a ton and they just feel natural. Does it hurt when Jimmy convinces him to rip them up for a concert? Only a little ;-; Does it make the audience go wild? Only a lot :) 

Wears Jimmy’s chains way before the rest of Tulpar have access to them 

SWANSEA

Tulapr’s manager before and after they get signed with Pony Express Records. 

Usually wears a track suit or something, very casual around the crew. After they get signed though, hes always dressing in P.E records merch, ad later Tulpar merch when PER authorizes it!

Keeping his backstory mostly the same, his struggle with addiction does come into play with the story I have in mind 

Used to be really into the punk scene. If you loook really close, you can see the holes from his snakebites and brow bars. No one can see it, but he also used to have a septum piercing. 

He has a stash of his old clothes on the bus when Tulpar is tour-ready! He also becomes the resident seamstress if a costume rips or malfunctions :)

[suprababka]

How you first met & how they asked you out on a first date (part 1)

Featuring:

• Saitama • Genos • Speed-o'-Sound Sonic

[Garou & Metal Bat & Amai Mask: part 2] [Flashy Flash & Zombieman & King: part 3]

A/N: Merry Christmas! Thank you everyone for reading what I do and supporting me, it means a lot. I always do my best to make you guys happy because I really appreciate all of you. As some of you can remember, I've already mentioned a few times my first post with headcanons, and here it is! Finally, after all this time, I can present it to you as a gift for Christmas!🎄💫🎊🎉

(I hope I didn't mess anything up, and I'm sorry for being a bit late! I really wanted to publish this post sooner but couldn't. We don't celebrate Christmas in my country btw) Unfortunately, I had to split up post into 3 parts :((( Alright, let's see if you guys like my headcanons! :) (I low-key cringe at them tbh)

And dear anons, who requested headcanons, do not worry! I remember about you and will post everything, I just wanted to have a logical "begining" for hcs, you know?

Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs and following me! I really appreciate your feedback and support, guys!🥰🫶

You can check my masterlist too see more of my other works.

Prepare for possible OOC!

(Sorry if there are any mistakes!)

And, most importantly, enjoy!!!

Both of you go to the same store, so yeah, you pass by each other pretty often

(Genos even starts thinking you stalk his sensei)

And one day there is a limited sale

You get to the shop just in time to see that the last napa cabbage on sale is left

You extend your hand to take it as you feel someone's arm grabbing the cabbage

... and of course it's a bald man who you frequently run into

You look into each other eyes, both hands on the poor vegetable

Spark, emotions, passion... a-a-and he goes away with the cabbage without a care in the world

(Alright, maybe with a care to buy everything before the sale ends)

The only thing you can do is to just hum disappointed and look at the back of the retreating man

And come to think that you romanticized every encounter with him!

When you finish grocery shopping and walk out of the store, you meet Saitama with bags full of goods

It seems he has been been waiting for something... or someone, for example, Demon Cyborg

Giving one last look at him and at the cabbage in his hands, you begin walking to your house

Suddenly you hear a man clearing his throat and a "Hey, you wanted the cabbage, didn't you? Sorry, I took the last one. Here, I splitted it in half so both you and me could have it."

You turn around and see him extending the part of the vegetable

"And maybe you can be my other half?"

You're surprised to hear these words and blink for a few moments, thinking you misheard him

Saitama stares at you right back with a poker face, so maybe it's a prank after all?

"Are you joking with me right now?"

In return Saitama blinks with surprised eyes and shakes his head, reassuring that he is serious

"Well, how about we learn each other's name first and then see how it goes?" you answer, smiling and taking the half of the cabbage

And that's how you find out Saitama's name and agree to a first date

You begin walking back to your house and can't help but turn around to glance at Saitama

Then you see two figures coming up to him... from the bush

(And there is a big bunch of napa cabbage in the bush?)

You immediately recognize Demon Cyborg and... King?! Or is it someone who looks like him?

Soon you hear men talking

"How did it go, sensei? Did my tactic with cabbage work?"

"Yeah, Saitama bro, tell us. I hope you used phrases from mang- phrases I recommended to you?"

Chuckling, you continue going back home to the sound of Saitama's irritated voice, "Huh? I don't even know what you're talking about! What are you two doing here?"

"Helping you with your love interest, Saitama-sensei!"

"I said I could do it by myself! And I did it!.. Wait, why is there a bunch of cabbage in the bush?"

"I bought all of this for you, master! With only one cabbage being left, the chance you would talk to Y/n were higher than-"

"Wait-wait-wait, how do you know her name?"

"I scanned her face and found a lot of information about her."

"Genos, you can't do that!"

"If it can help you, why not? For example, I noticed that Y/n always buys napa cabbage, so that's why we needed to buy most of them, except for one."

"Wait, we? King, were you in this from the very beginning?"

"Maybe?" *nervous giggling*

Yep, dating Saitama is definitely gonna be interesting

Bonus:

Saitama has a problem, besides not having a worthy opponent to show him an interesting fight

And this issue is... his emotionlessness

Of course he can feel something like irritation, disappointment, a pang of hope, ardor from gambling, etc.

But it's not something deep

So he is confused when he gets this weird feeling in his chest every time he sees you

And the fact that he remembers your face and recognizes you speaks volumes

He also starts to think of you from time to time

That's strange

Soon enough he realises that he likes you

And just accepts this rather calm

(thanks to his nonchalant demeanor)

He's also too lazy to think about dating someone, getting to know them, going out somewhere, spending his money on something...

Nah, it's not for him, so his feelings for you will fade away eventually

Spoiler: they won't, it only gets worse

Alright, so he should just walk up to you, ask you out, get rejected and go on with his life peacefully

Sounds like a plan

"So, Saitama, you're quite pensive today, what's on your mind?" King asks while kicking his friend's ass in a game

"Eh, there's just a girl that I like. I thought it was temporary, but I guess I was wrong. So yeah, I gotta ask her out."

King is both perplexed and shocked: is this really Saitama? Saitama who isn't wasn't looking for a relationship? And he acts like it's something usual?

Ah, it's Saitama, he is always cool as cucumber, right

"I see. So, how are you gonna talk to her? And who is she, by the way?"

"Well, I don't know her. We just keep running into each other. I will just go and ask her out. If she rejects me, then I'l just live on. If she agrees on going on a date, then I... I guess I will deal with it on the spot."

"Huh, in that case you should think about your words to impress her. Something like "It looks like destiny keeps bringing us together, huh?", or "I know we don't know each other, so why don't we fix that?", or "I keep running into you, I think it's because you're magnetic.", or..."

"I agree with King," Genos suddenly says, watching Saitama play videogames with the S-Class hero, "I also believe that lucky coincidences such as choosing one product, accidentally bumping into her, standing next to each other in line can increase the chance of success. Though, sensei, I know you don't need any of that, she should feel honoured to be considered as a romantic partner for you. If she is not, then she doesn't deserve you and isn't able to see your greatness, master."

"Yeah-yeah..." Saitama answers to both men

(he didn't listen to them)

So when he takes the cabbage right from your hands and hears your disappointed hum, he feels like a jerk (just a little bit)

But on the other hand, it means that you'll probably reject him and he can go back to his usual life, right?

In that case, he can't let the chance slide

While he is waiting for you to appear, he decides to apologize and give you the half of the cabbage after all

Maybe it will irritate you more and make you dislike him?

Oh, and in addition he should say something romantic-alike, so you'd definitely say no to him and he could continue his peaceful li-

You agree to go on a date with him

Oops, everything goes NOT according to the plan

But, surprisingly for Saitama, he doesn't feel sad or troubled with the outcome

On the contrary, he's excited and feels like it's easier for him to breath now

Wow, it's something new

And strange, but in a good way

Genos is always busy with Saitama or away on missions, at S-Class hero meeteings, at Dr. Kuseno's place, etc.

So he doesn't have time to date, not that he's interested in it, getting stronger and taking revenge on The Mad Cyborg is his top priority!

(Saitama and Dr. Kuseno are his top priority too of course)

Though, you unintentionally managed to catch his eye

How? Genos doesn't know

Once he just noticed you feeding a stray cat when he was going to Saitama's place

After that he started seeing you there again, again and again

Until one day he decides to walk up to you

Why? Genos doesn't know

And he just stands there, staring at you and the stray cat

You glance up to him and can't help but feel intimidated by Demon Cyborg

"Uh, excuse me, can I help you?" your voice comes out like a begging for mercy

He looks straight into your eyes

Even though his gaze is intense, you feel yourself getting lost in his eyes (as cheesy as it sounds)

There is something capturing about them, they are so cold yet so humane

"No, I just noticed that you regularly feed this cat," suddenly the young man speaks

"Ah, yeah, I do," you answer, breaking eye contact and returning your attention back to the cat, "Isn't he cute?"

All what you get in return is a simple "Yeah"

The S-class hero definitely wants to hear more of you

Why? Genos doesn't know

How can he continue your conversation without asking stupid questions? Or what if you want him to back off? Why does he care about any of this, anyway?

Young man catches himself overthinking for a first time in a long time

(silly boy doesn't understand that he always overthinks everything, especially anything related to his sensei)

Genos comes back to real life when you stand up, say goodbye to him and go… wherever you have to

He stands there, processing what just happened and deciding that there are some things that matter more than this

After a minute he walks away to Saitama's place

If only could he understand how wrong he was, not realising that it was far more than just a simple conversation

Because Genos starts seeking for any opportunities to run into you, to talk to you again, making your conversations longer and longer (and he is successful in this)

Even Saitama notices it and start teasing him about his crush

Genos denies it of course

But sensei doesn't believe his student and points out to young boy's attraction

(Saitama is desperate to get Genos spend his time somewhere else, besides his home)

"Just go on a date with her and see how it goes. If both of you don't enjoy it, then I guess I was wrong. But if everything goes well, why not take your chance? It's not like you will lose anything... Well, except for money."

"Sensei, I... I must write it down!"

In all seriousness, Genos listens to Saitama's advice and decides to go for it

The next day after this conversation he spots you feeding the stray cat yet again

When he walks up to you, he notices that you didn't have much to offer

"Ah, sorry, sweetie, I thought there was more leftover food in the package... Don't worry, I'll buy the new one and give you more food next time, okay?" you talk to cat, petting him

"Then it's a good thing I brought some… just in case," suddenly you hear man's voice and immediately recognise it

"Ah, Genos! It's good to see you again."

"Likewise, Y/n-san," he answers, feeding the cat

(and the corners of his lips are slightly raised??)

"Going to your sensei's place, huh?"

"Actually, no," he stands up, looking at you seriously, "I wanted to know if you would like to spend some time with me."

"You mean now?"

"Not necessary, I would like to book one evening with you to get to know you better."

"Can I clarify something first?"

"Of course, what is it, Y/n-san?"

"Are you inviting me on a date? Sorry for being straightforward, I just want to know your intentions."

Genos.exe stopped working

Really, your question leaves him dumbfounded

Why is he like this? Genos doesn't know because he always finds reasoning for everything

Well, looks like everything besides this

"To be honest, Y/n-san, I want to understand my feelings towards you and I believe learning more about you will help me with that."

As for you, you are perfectly aware of your fondness towards young man

And of course you agree to a date-not-date with him

(on which Genos realises he actually likes you)

Bonus:

"Are you really going to just sit here and glare at me?" after losing another round in some PSP game, Saitama looks up from the screen and sees a young boy who has been attentively watching his sensei for… the past two hours

"Yes, I need to document your every movement, sensei."

"But not when I'm just playing. It's useless."

"I wouldn't say so..."

"Don't you have some better things to do? I don't know, go to some meetings or... flirting with that girl... or whatever."

"Flirting with a girl?"

"Yeah, the one who feeds the cat."

"You got it wrong, sensei. I'm not romantically interested in Y/n-san."

"Ah-huh, sure. You totally don't look at her when we pass by with hearts in your eyes."

"I physically can't have hearts in my eyes."

"Figuratively. Just admit it, she caught your attention. You don't pay attention to others. So it means something, doesn't it?"

"Sensei..."

Seeing confusion on his student's face, Saitama immediately feels a glimmer of hope that Genos will start spending his time somewhere else because of... certain "Y/n-san"

"Just go on a date with her and see how it goes. If both of you don't enjoy it, then I guess I was wrong. But if everything goes well, why not take your chance? It's not like you will lose anything... Well, except for money."

"Sensei, I... I must write it down!"

"No, that's not what you should do..."

"To be honest, master Saitama, I think you are right. I have underestimated the effect that Y/n-san has on me, so I agree that I need to get to know her better. Thank you, sensei."

"Uh, well, no problem... but you didn't have to bow."

The next day Genos spends on throughly planning asking you out

(yeah, he likes to think everything through)

So, we all know that Sonic lives in the forest

And he has a special place with a lake and waterfalls where he likes to spend his time and think about... well, everything

Escape reality, you know?

Sonic even believes that he's the only one who knows about this magical spot

Just imagine his face when one day after the intense training he goes there and sees someone in the lake

Disappointed, he decides to make an exception and leave this person alone

Soon he'll come back and his spot will be free, right?

Well, yeah, but...

This keeps happening every time he tries to unwind under intense waterfall pressure

Of course Sonic sees this as competition

He needs to complete his training faster and reach the lake before this person appears? You are on!

And he manages to do that

Proud of himself, he relaxes under streams of waterfall

But there is one thing Sonic didn't think through: you weren't aware of your competition

So, you go to the lake to spend your time here as usual

(you don't notice a young man sitting on the rock in the waterfall)

You unpack your things, lay a blanket and get undressed, staying only in a swimsuit

Suddenly you manage to barely notice something or someone moving in the bushes

Soon you realize it was a man

Not wasting your time on thinking, you immediately grab your stuff and start running away

Your heart starts beating even faster when you hear him calling you and chasing after you

It gets even scarier when you catch a glimpse of this man chaotically jumping from a tree to tree with unbelievable speed

You keep running until you bump into something and fall

Rubbing your bruised area, you open your eyes and see the same young man in front of you

And he is... naked???

"Aaaaah! Don't touch me!" you scream, crawling away from him and throwing tiny sticks at him

"Hey, stop doing that!' Sonic brushes off all of your attempts to defend yourself, "I won the competition and came here first, so it's my turn to spend time here!"

"What?"

"You heard me. You were at MY lake every time I came there! So I took it as a competition and today I won! I came here first!"

"Your lake? There is no sign saying it's a private property! Since when it's your lake?!"

"I discovered it first."

"What's not how it works!"

"Whatever. I came here first, so I have every right to be there alone."

"And I have every right to be there too! Since it's a public place in the forest!"

"But I left you alone every time you were here!"

"Well, you didn't have to! Or you could put something on, you know!.. Wait, "every time"?.. You were watching me? Pervert!!!"

"What? No! I went back to my place!"

"... Just cover yourself already!" you find your blanket and throw it at him

Taking your blanket, Sonic wraps it around his waist

"Listen, man, if you don't want me coming here, just say it and let me go. I don't want any trouble..." you stand up and wipe away all all the dirt

He is about to exclaim, agreeing with the condition, but... he examines you and your body

You are... rather cute... beautiful... lovely!

Suddenly the thought of never seeing you again makes him sad

"N-no, it's not like that..." he whispers, looking away and trying not to blush

(he miserably fails to cover the pink colour on his cheeks)

"J-just... Uh.."

Why does he feel nervous suddenly?

Meanwhile you stare at him, taking in his every feature

He has beautiful loose wet hair and a sporty body which is covered in scars and in drops

And his face is so cute!

But let's not judge a book by its cover, right?

"You can come here whenever you want to..." Sonic finally speaks

"... Thanks? But isn't it the opposite of what you wanted?"

He's silent for a moment, "It doesn't matter. I just want not to be disturbed. That's all."

"I can understand that. Well, how about we just distribute the time according to which we will spend time on the lake?" you try to find a solution to the problem

"... Yeah, that makes sense. But maybe, uh... Youcangivemeyournumber so we could inform each other?"

"Ah, what did you say?"

"I said... Let's exchange our phone numbers?"

"Good idea, it's more reasonable than what I suggested."

And just like that Sonic dictates his number to you, says goodbye and runs away, disappearing in the woods

"Uh, wait! My blanket..."

But it's too late, he's nowhere to be seen

(don't worry, he returns it next time you see each other)

You'd think that this is how your relationship develops: quick meeting and texts turn into long ones

But Sonic is faster than that

So he awkwardly asks you out a couple days after this… "incident"

Of course you say yes, why not?

(or should I say "who wouldn't?")

Bonus:

For the rest of day Sonic isn't himself

His thoughts always come back to you, to your sweet voice, to your cute face, to your capturing eyes, to your alluring lips that he badly wants to ki-

Wait, what?

He is Speed-o'-Sound Sonic, the fastest and the most skilled ninja in the world!

So why does he feel like this?

Why he wishes you'd be here with him and watch how he trains?

Why he wants to amaze you?

Why he smiles like an idiot re-reading your sms "Hey, it's Y/n :)"?

Why he wants you to text him more? To be with him under a waterfall? To show him your kindness again? To spend more time with you?

Why he craves your presence and attention so damn much?

These thoughts live rent free in his mind 24/7

He even dreams about you!

The next day it gets worse

He feels like he's a obsessed maniac

(poor guy just wanted to interact with someone and be accepted as a normal person: he doesn't realize how lonely he is)

And maybe he has a crush on you?

Nooooooo, he can't have someone something distracting him now, can he?

...

In the end of day (literally) he admits his feelings for you

However, he can't just confess to you straight away, right?

He needs to take steps

For example, he should start by asking you out first

But how?

Should he casually suggest spending time together?

Or maybe just send you a text?

Or leave a note somewhere?

Or maybe he should show you some of his tricks and wow you that way?

Well, considering how you tried to run away from him... it might be not the best idea

And since he wants to talk to you in person, then the only option left is to have a conversation with you and ask you out

Now he has another problem: what should he say?

"Go out with me."

No

"I thought it'd be great to spend some time together one evening. What do you say?"

No

"Heeeeey, watcha doin', girl? Wanna hang out with me?"

No

"Y/n, I know I came off as someone weird or creepy, but I promise I'm not. Our first meeting wasn't quite what you would call normal, but maybe let's change that?"

Nope, but he's onto something

"Hey, I'm not a pervert and want to go on a date with you. How does that sound?"

No

Ugh, why is it so hard to come up with anything good?

Maybe he should just go with the flow and the right words will find their way?

Yeah, sounds like a plan

(little he knows he's gonna mess everything up)

When it's time for him to approach you and start a conservation, he feels like he's going to puke from nervousness

But it's too late to back out

"Hey, Sonic! How was the training?"

"Hey... Uh, good. And you?"

(he was thinking about asking you out instead of training)

"Me too, the weather is nice and the water is warm."

"G-good to know..."

"Alright, see you around, Sonic!" you wave him goodbye, starting to go away

"W-wait!" he suddenly exclaims, pointing at you... and blushing?

"Huh? What is it?" you stop, turning to him

"I... I... I'm not a pervert!"

"O-okay, glad to know so? I mean, I kinda figured that out, despite, well, you know what..."

"But I want to- Around you I- What about-"

"What?'

Taking a deep breath, he finally asks, "Do you remember how we first met?'

"Of course, it was just two days ago..."

"Let's repeat that!"

"Whaaa- No, let's not!"

"I mean... Let's, uh, start over?"

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Feeling embarrassed, he sighs, "I want to take you out..."

"Eeeeh? So what's why you have a katana? To kill me?! Please, don't..."

"What? No! I wanted to know if you'd like to go on a date with me... But I guess I messed up... So forget it."

"That's a shame, because I'd like to spend some time with you."

"Really?!"

"Yep."

"You're not joking?"

"Nope, I'm not. Well, unless you are."

You can tell by Sonic's facial expression he didn't expect such turn of events

"I'm serious! I'll send you the information!"

"Okay!" you smile, giving him thumb up

"Bye!" after saying that, he disappears

"Bye?.." you say to nothing (again)

Though, you kinda feel relieved to be left alone since you need to calm your racing heart down and stop yourself from jumping out of happiness

As for Sonic, he spends a lot of time, trying to calm down and reassure himself that his dream wish came true and he's not dreaming

(yeah, Sonic is a blushing mess around you)

[strwbrychffoncake]

"christmas dreaming,, word count: 3.3k synopsis: you both dreamed of a christmas together, and this winter, it seems that it may just come true contains: lads caleb x f!reader (but the only indication is reader wears a nightgown lol) ,fluff -> kinda suggestive ,angst if you squint ,bickering ,use of "gege" (caleb refers to himself like this a couple times lol) ,reader is called "pipsqueak" ,cute hug moment ,mutual pining ,kind of oblivious!reader ,light jealousy ,lots of teasing (caleb likes to see u suffer lol) ,kissing -> soft makeout ,suggestive ending if you squint ,i think thats it.... note: (mostly edited! if theres any errors pls standby) i opened instagram to the official lads acc post ab an update w that fucking apple a couple days ago n suddenly this fic flew up on the prio list. this one is for the caleb girlies u mean sm to me

-

busy.

you had been busy (the exact opposite of what others this season should be) going on back-to-back missions, scouting and clearing out no-hunt zones instead of taking time off and spending it with loved ones, and spending the other half of your time writing up reports instead of window shopping and checking off gifts for everyone on your long-forgotten list.

on top of trying to get through as much work as possible, you weren't even sure if you were going to have anyone to spend christmas with this year, aside from your grandma.

caleb usually kept you updated on when he was supposed to have a break, but it seemed this time around was different as you fished your phone from your pocket, checking your messages for the upteenth time today only to see your messages still left on delivered.

you sighed.

at least there's gram you thought, putting your phone away and focusing all your attention back on the various bags that filled your arms.

after the miracle that was getting off from work early, you were out doing some last-minute christmas shopping.

not your finest moment, and most definitely not your favorite, but your second miracle of the day came in the form of snagging everything you had in mind for everyone on your list.

your mind drifted to caleb's gift and you couldn't help but second guess yourself, wondering if he would even like it.

not that it was something you had to worry too much about right now, considering you weren't even sure when he would end up opening it.

you sigh again, watching the puffed out air float through the air, courtesy of the cold.

passing by the couples on the street seemed to dampen your mood further.

how you wished caleb were here to accompany you like that.

you hurried your steps. all you wanted to do now was to get home and sleep the rest of the day away (only after setting up the rest of the decorations around the place).

your wish drifts away on the chilly evening air as you continue down the street, the ideas for decor placement and wrapping gifts filling your head.

-

when you decided to walk to do your errands today, you didn't expect to regret it when you realized just how much shopping you did, bags seeming to weigh you down with each step growing a little heavier as you approached your home.

you breathe a sigh of relief when the house comes into view, fishing out the key from your coat pocket as you finally reach the doorstep to your childhood home. you quickly insert the key and unlock the door with a click.

in your tired state, you don't fully register the pleasant smell wafting through the door as you nudge your way in, swiftly shutting it behind you with your foot and locking it out of habit before you begin the trek to your room.

you don't take notice of the humming in the kitchen floating through the living space as you push open the door to your bedroom and drop all the bags on the floor.

you don't notice the footsteps that make their way towards your bed shortly after you plop down on top of it, nuzzling into the soft blanket telling yourself just for a moment.

"no proper greeting for gege, pipsqueak? frankly, i'm hurt."

"..."

you think you must be dreaming.

you think you must miss caleb so badly without even realizing it that your thoughts are not only consumed by him, but now you're hearing his voice in the grips of your fatigue.

"are you going to keep pretending to be asleep? after gege cooked for you too...."

"..."

theres no way you're dreaming.

your eyes shoot open.

when they do, you're met with the sight of none other than caleb standing before you, arms crossed over his chest, head slightly tilted, expression somewhere between mock-pensive and teasing as he stares down at you.

"caleb?!"

his eyes glimmer with mischief.

"oh, so you are awake."

you bolt upright in bed, eyes wide.

"what ar- how- when did you get here???"

an airy chuckle leaves him at your stammering before he leans forward slightly.

"hmm.. a couple hours ago, give or take?"

you gape at him, still processing him standing right before you. he takes advantage of your shock and reaches a hand out, playfully ruffling your hair.

"but a certain hunter was too tired to notice until now..." he shakes his head in mock disdain. "how disappointing. do i mean so little to you?"

the hand that was reached out clutches over his heart when he says this, faux hurt expression taking over his features.

momentarily ignoring his jesting, you answer with another question.

"why didn't you tell me you were coming???" you mean to sound harsh, but it comes out whiny instead.

he wants to laugh at your tone, almost feeling bad for ignoring your messages to keep his arrival a secret.

"maybe," his hand moves towards his chin, a single index finger pointed up as it hovers over his lips.

"gege wanted to surprise you," he winks.

despite his teasing (that inwardly infuriates you to no end) you're so pleased to see him that, given the proximity, your arms reach forward, wrapping around his waist as your face falls into his chest before squeezing tight.

"h-hey, pipsqueak-"

caleb startles at the sudden action, peering down at you and hoping you can't hear how his heart has begun racing because of you.

but the affection is in no way unwelcome, something he makes sure to reciprocate as he slings one arm around your back, other hand reaching up to pat your head softly.

he sighs.

"did you really miss me that much?"

your voice is muffled, comfortably nuzzled into his chest.

"shut up, caleb."

he laughs again, holding you closer.

"i missed you, too."

his voice is a murmur against your hair, and you think you feel his lips graze the side of your head.

but you make no effort to move, and neither does he.

-

after your long drawn out hug is interrupted by your stomach rumbling, caleb teases you before grabbing one of your hands and leading you to the dining room to an array of prettily displayed dishes.

your mouth practically waters at the sight, taking a seat as your eyes slowly drag over everything, eager to get your hands on everything all at once.

"don't wait on my account, pipsqueak. dig in."

your gaze shifts from him, to the food, and then back, pausing for a moment.

"i'll just grab a-"

"ive got it, don't get up and eat already," he cuts you off, already next to the fridge grabbing two drinks and making his way back to the table, taking the seat in front of you.

you thank him before filling your plate with a little of everything, having missed his cooking after so long.

after spending some time catching up over the food (and your countless praises for caleb's cooking, all of which he laughed at, responding with "how do you manage without me for so long?") a certain question lingers in caleb's mind before finding the time to ask it.

"so, pipsqueak," he begins.

you grab your drink, glancing up at him to show you're listening.

"any of the hunters grab your attention?"

you tilt your head, bringing the cup closer to you.

"what do you mean?"

"i mean," a certain look takes over his eyes, but you're not sure what exactly it is.

"do you like anyone?"

you're so startled by the question that you sputter your drink before breaking into a small fit of coughs.

caleb scoots his chair back, ready to help you before you quickly calm down, gesturing that you're fine.

"woah, didn't mean for that to happen," he grins.

"why the hell would you ask me something like that???"

he shrugs.

"dunno. you're a cutie, so who knows, maybe someone took note of that and made a move?"

your heart flutters.

he thinks you're cute? or was he just teasing you again?

"so?"

you scoff.

"if you must know... the answer is no."

relief floods caleb's system, and he doesn't realize it overtakes his features as well before you add:

"why do you seem so pleased? do you want me to stay by myself forever or something?" you roll your eyes.

because i want you all to myself, he thinks.

"because id wanna make sure they're perfect for you," he lies, lazy grin spreading across his face.

you're the one who's perfect for me, you think.

but you don't say this, only playfully scoffing at his words before responding.

"yeah, right, you'd just scare them away."

damn right, he thinks, but only laughs in response.

"well, if they have a problem with me, then that's already a red flag, isn't it?"

"i guess so..."

you begin to pick at your food again when a thought crosses your mind.

if he's being nosy about my love life, does that mean i don't have a chance at all?

your heart sinks at the thought of losing him to someone else.

"well, what about you?"

"hm?"

you look up at him, gaze holding something like fiery determination- it throws him off.

"are you seeing anyone?"

he looks back at you, heart almost bursting at what seems like a jealous pout overtaking your face.

he smiles.

as if i could think of anyone but you.

"nope, nothing going on in my love life," he speaks plainly, and watches as you breathe a small sigh of relief, your eyes relaxing and lips morphing into a little grin as you look back down at your plate.

"oh," you say simply.

he thinks about teasing you, but lets you be for now as you happily continue chowing down on your homemade dinner.

a sight caleb wishes to witness every day, if given the chance.

-

after you help with washing the dishes (insistent in your begging, making caleb finally give in after countless minutes of trying to get you to rest and repeating how he could handle it), you both settle on the idea of watching a movie together in the living room.

after a quick well-needed rinse off and dressed in comfortable nightwear, you make your way to the living room.

somewhere in the midst of dinner, it had begun snowing outside, and despite being shielded from it indoors, a chill still somehow surrounded the living area, pulling a shiver from you.

"cold, pipsqueak?"

caleb is already sat on the sofa, one arm draped over the back of it grasping the remote, head propped up on his other fist as he browses through the selection of festive movies on the tv.

you nod quickly as you make your way towards him, noting the fluffy blanket draped over his lap.

you sit down, reaching for it before he stops you.

"hey, you're not the only one who's cold!"

"you're wearing sweatpants, how cold could you possibly be?"

"no one forced you to wear that cute little nightgown~"

"that's my blanket in the first place!"

"and who gifted it to you, huh?"

"you-!"

"just sit next to me so we can share it."

you blink.

"oh-"

"or... would you rather sit on my lap?"

you feel your face erupt into flames.

"wha- whe- why would you say that?!?"

he laughs at your embarrassment.

"what? its just like when we were kids, remember?"

while the offer is tempting, you're sure he's just teasing you again.

you settle for lifting the blanket on your side and scooting closer to him before draping it over yourself.

"yeah well... ill be just fine right here."

he shrugs, still smiling at you.

"suit yourself."

he clicks on a movie, the opening beginning to play when he pipes up again.

"but if you happen to change your mind-"

"like hell!" you whisper-shout in pure embarrassment, bringing the blanket up to cover the bottom half of your face.

he laughs again when the actual movie begins, a comfortable silence enveloping the space as you both watch the starting scene.

-

about fifteen minutes into the movie, you're only acutely aware of what's taking place onscreen.

while his eyes have been glued to the screen, yours have had trouble doing the same, drifting over to seemingly study caleb's side profile before catching yourself and redirecting your attention.

over and over and over again.

he knows you think he doesn't notice, but he's fighting a smirk and teasing comment, reveling in the attention you're giving him, wanting to bask in it for a little longer while simultaneously hoping you'll make some kind of move.

. . .

thirty minutes into the movie, youre not sure you can take it anymore.

after inwardly fighting with yourself for the past ten minutes, you decide to inch closer to him, having the cold as an excuse ready to use (should he say anything) and hoping the dim lighting of the living area (courtesy of caleb, insisting that movies are always better in the dark) will hide your movement enough so he doesn't notice in the first place.

you clench the blanket closer to you as you make your move.

his eyes are still glued to the screen.

he doesn't notice.

five minutes pass.

you shuffle a little bit closer.

"..."

he still doesn't seem to notice.

with the way you're sitting, your knees will knock together if you move any closer.

so you shift your sitting position.

five more minutes pass, and you inch closer once more.

your eyes locked on the screen, you don't quite catch his side glance before he refocuses.

he holds in a laugh.

he's noticed each movement, but finds it cute that you think he hasn't, but can't tell if you want him to or not.

so he shifts his own position, now leaning a little closer your way, and waits.

five more minutes pass.

you glance to the side.

he smirks.

when you go to close the rest of the distance, he turns to you, causing you to freeze. he uses the opportunity to grab your cheeks with one hand and force your gaze to meet his.

"getting a little close there, pipsqueak."

his voice is a low murmur, a pleasant disturbance in the quiet that surrounded you both, but given your proximity you hear it that much clearer, heart rate picking up at being caught.

"i was-"

"what? you were cold?"

you jolt at his ability to see right through you.

"i told you," he leans closer to your ear before whispering.

"if you changed your mind, to let me know."

he pulls back enough to look at you again, and feels his face go warm.

here you are, so close to him, eyes open and honest as emotion swirls within them, cheeks squished cutely with his soft yet firm grip on them, lips slightly puckered because of it-

he tries to steady his breathing.

and it seems like, for once today, you could read his mind this time.

"caleb..." the way his name sounds from your lips right now- so breathy and sweet- does something to him.

he releases your cheeks, hand slipping to one side to cup one instead.

"what would happen if i just..." he trails off, his eyes trained on your lips.

his voice is just barely audible, but you hear it with the closeness.

you think you might die right here.

"try it," you urge, voice a pleading whisper.

he meets your eyes again and his look suddenly hardens.

"dodge if you don't want this."

those are the last words he utters before slowly moving in, tilting his head and shutting his eyes.

your eyes widen when his lips meet yours, eyes slowly slipping shut before you reciprocate, lips melding together perfectly, longingly, as if you'd both waited an eternity for this moment.

you slip your arms around his neck pulling him closer- and invitation to devour your lips whole.

the kiss gets more intense with each passing second, so caught in your lips moving in sync that you barely register being lightly pushed down against the soft cushions of the sofa, caleb following as he now hovers above you, chasing after your lips the entire way.

you're not sure how much time has passed before he finally pulls away from you, breaths heavy as he marvels down at you.

your gown is in slight disarray, chest rising up and down as you catch your own breath, eyes slightly glazed over and lips shiny and slightly swollen from him.

but youre staring up at him as that cute little smile curls on your lips, making him want to dive right back in.

"wow," you breathe out, no other words to describe the moment coming to your hazy mind.

"wow," caleb mimics. "you all warmed up now?" he pants.

you pout, hitting his arm lightly.

"so cruel..." he jokes, hand moving to pet your head.

he stares, admiring you for a minute before breathing out a laugh.

"man, am i glad you didn't dodge."

you look up at him, confusion swimming in your irises as a small frown makes its way to your lips.

"why would i?"

his heart stutters.

"well, even if you liked me that much, i didn't think you'd actually make a move."

your eyes widen, and despite the initial urge to bite back at his words, you decide to be honest since everything is out on the table, despite your rapidly racing heart.

"its all i've ever wanted."

god, he thinks he could die right now and be a happy man as his soul flies free.

"s' that why you were so jealous earlier at the mention of love lives?"

you huff, looking to the side.

"well, since you asked first, i figured it meant there was no hope for me."

you're just too cute, he thinks.

"in my case, i needed to check if there was anyone i needed to beat up."

your eyes fly back to him.

"caleb!"

"what? you think im joking, but i mean it."

he leans down close again, noses almost touching.

"if someone else had caught your interest, im not sure what i'd do with myself..."

a smile graces your face once more as you look up at him through your lashes.

"well," you whisper, "good thing i'm all yours."

an hour and fifteen minutes into the movie and it plays forgotten, background noise to a new love that blooms right before it. and in the midst of it all, despite the agonizing amount of time it took to get here, you both could spend christmas together in the way you'd always wanted: as devoted lovers.

-

epilogue:

"actually, i got you something!"

"oh? you didn't have to.."

"you say that every year, but you know i do anyways."

"well, what is it this time?"

"you'll just have to wait to open it~"

your expression turns worried suddenly.

"i just hope that you'll like it..."

noting this, he grips your chin, turning your head towards him before placing a chaste kiss onto your lips.

"pipsqueak, you're already the greatest christmas gift i could have gotten. whatever it is you bought for me, i'll love it for sure."

you feel relief and tingles flood your system all at once.

"okay," you breathe, giving him a kiss back.

come christmas, he's pleased at the silly 'kiss the cook' apron (that he knows will now be put to good use), a new cutlery set, and a pretty iron ring that adorns his middle finger.

you yourself are pleased with the anklet with an apple charm, as well as a cute apple phone charm that you waste no time in strapping onto your phone.

but despite the gifts, you both agree that the greatest gift was each other.

-

a/n: wanted to release this earlier but jumped between two other drafts n procrastinated on this one oops... caleb kissers this one is for you in honor of him (seemingly) being added as a LI soon :x i absolutely did not mean to make this as long as i did LOL the music i listen to while writing really gets me in the zone...... its christmas when i post this ,so merry christmas to those who celebrate <3 im going to try my absolute hardest to at least get the sylus fic out later today if nothing else ,i have sm ideas..... -

[zacki0gaming]

Season 2, Episode 4 Part 4 Rant (Final)

The Episode (Part 4)

On to the second half of the episode, we suddenly get a “boss fight” of Cyanide.

Pauses the episode

Me: Ok, I got some things to say about this. Firstly, throughout the boss fight, I notice actual coding that can be probably ciphered, which I’m not even gonna try. But thankfully, someone named @mzoyagon already posted the translation of it.

It reads:

"my name is cyanide" "who am i?" "what am i?" "am i good?" "am i bad?" "my name is cyanide" "my name is teal" "my name is cyanide" "my name is teal"

This cipher probably represents the themes of identity, duality, and moral ambiguity.

I’m finally gonna go ultra analysis on this.

"My name is Cyanide" / "My name is Teal": The alternating names symbolizes the coexistence of the duality or conflicting aspects. Cyanide (or as Teal now)as a corrupt may represent as harmful or destructive. This could be further summarized by her name and definition she initially analyzed in Season 1, Episode 9, saying it as a deadly chemical.

Alternatively, she can be viewed as a "deadly force" - a project created by her caretaker and boss, Dub. She was intended to be a weapon, as demonstrated in this episode when she prematurely matured into her mature form before going to start attacking Cyan and the other Heroes in “ATTACK MODE”. Or, this one sounds kind of dumb but, you might see Cyanide as “the devil herself” along with this because… She has the devil horns on her head, heheh…

As for Teal, (which is still Cyanide herself, but has a pure being now and with a different name) her pure self simply represent a more balanced and calmer side, such as not being dangerous to those around her anymore as a sign of peace for finally being a pure shape like the main Heroes (Cyan, Orange, Gold, and Tsavorite).

"Who am I?" / "What am I?": These simple, seemingly simplistic questions convey a sense of existential uncertainty. Cyanide appears to be grappling with an internal struggle, questioning not only her identity but also her essence and purpose.

This image goes with “Who Am I?” from the translation here above Cyan. It also further proves my point when Cyanide expresses a “question mark” on her face.

"Am I good?" / "Am I bad?": The two lines imply a moral conflict. Cyanide may be questioning her actions, intentions, or inherent nature, perhaps influenced by her duality ("Cyanide" and "Teal").

This image goes along with “Am I Good?”.

This cipher emphasizes the tension between these two identities. For instance, Cyanide's boss fight could mainly reflect her wrestling with the understanding of finding her true morality and identity.

Her path to her redemption keeps on getting cut out because of her corruption & appearance as a corrupt, naiveness, and the large amount of mistrust, mistreatment, or misjudgment from most of the good guys. All she wanted was to find her true self as it eventually leads to her being a purely cured hero.

But, here’s the main problem with this, which I will get into a bit.

Continues the episode

After Cyanide gets purified back into her supposed pure counterpart, which she starts system rebooting herself. Cyan, in shock, says if he actually did do it, which Tsavorite expresses so much excitement by throwing Cyan up into the air before catching him.

Pauses the episode

Me: OH WOW! The entire boss level method works SO. DAMN. WELL. That entire dumb Tree of Life purification method that Gold previously did for his caretaker, Pyrare was for nothing here to just cause... AN ERROR and have Tsavorite literally waste a part of his tree’s power while trying to cure Cyanide!

And you know what, chat? Wanna know the whole subplot for Cyanide's overall character arc here, everyone in my opinion….? Let's contextually ham-fist "The Woobie Trope" into a corrupted hero, who hates being a corrupt and trying to make every effort not to act malevolently or harm others as possible, while getting constant mistrust, mistreatment, or misjudgment from most of the other characters, and almost being painfully naïve for like S1 EP 9-10 to S2 E1 & 4.

I’M NOT JOKING! The resolution of this arc, felt unearned or overly convenient. Her internal struggle gets abruptly solved in an astonishingly simplistic manner, thanks to Cyan's intervention. The entire establishment for it just feels like such a damn cop out to make look way too fucking easy. For some reason, I fought at first that Cyanide was gonna be unusually unable to be uncorrupted. BUT NO! It gets so suddenly solved by having that entire Tree of Life method become instantly pointless here just for it to be so easily fixed by Cyan's heroic non-newbie skills through the "boss level method"!

Continues the episode

Gold says that he guesses Cyanide doesn’t need the Green’s tree, which Orange also replied about it too. After Cyanide “Power On” herself, she gasped while saying if she was actually uncorrupted, while looking at her new appearance.

Pauses the episode

Me: I’m just realizing something. The main reason why it didn’t work was because she was born from the Cyan Tree instead of the Green one. Maybe if they would’ve done it with the Cyan tree instead of Tsavorite’s, than it would have probably worked.

Continues the episode

Cyan zooms over to Cyanide and asks her how she’s feeling, to which Cyanide says she’s feeling euphoric. Tsavorite, while still excited about her finally being a part of the family, he and Cyan asked Cyanide what they and the others would call her. After Cyanide starts thinking about what new name she should be called, she then tells the others that her name is now “Teal”.

Tsavorite says the name, Teal fits perfect for her and is officially now part of the family. Teal than thanks Circubit again for his help before the screen goes to black. The scene starts to move the camera to the Royal Graveyard, which we see the Reaper (La Danse Macabre) themselves. Circubit finally shows up and was happy to see the Reaper (La Danse Macabre) still here at the graveyard and wants to ask them for a favor.

Pauses the episode

Me: OK, I wanna tell you something that I found out from the Reaper (La Danse Macabre)’s official appearance here. I recently remember a user named, @pavtriobnal that sums up it’s entire appearance in this image perfectly. It legitimately looks like a fucking SPUNKI OC. I’m not kidding, like am I wrong on this? 🤣🤣

Continues the episode

The Reaper (La Danse Macabre) asks about the favor, saying that it better be something than resurrection. Circubit replies to the Reaper about having the resurrection part only be preferable to only himself and then says it’s something else that he wants.

Circubit asks the Reaper for a request to corrupt a caretaker, in which the Reaper questions him about which caretaker he’s referring to. Circubit answers that it’s Iris himself, while unbeknownst to the duo, they are being spied on by the Bossfight Group, Cintagon and Circumsphere.

Cintagon says, “Oh my god” before asking Circumsphere about the reason for revisiting his homeland. Circumsphere tells him that he had a hunch that the reaper would be a problem due to the Pink Corruption Virus, and saying he didn’t expect Circusic would be revived of all shapes, implying to the dead spheres in the graveyard.

Circumsphere tells Cintagon that they need to return to the Spheral Village to warn the others as possible before the credits shown.

The Episode finally concludes here

Final Verdict

Ok, now for the final verdict for Season 2, Episode 4 as a whole. I’m gonna unfortunately gonna give this a 4/10. Season 2 is… Really starting off to a pretty bad start for me in my opinion in the first 4 episodes…

Cons

Most of the episode was like a poorly constructed Cyanide-focused installment. Nothing else... Circubit’s return was handled clumsily, seemingly shoehorned out of no where without proper buildup or context. His sudden reappearance, coupled with the introduction of his new ability to allow himself to control between as a pure or corrupted shape, felt contrived and poorly integrated. His return is basically wanting us too see how the fucking catalyst for Cyanide's prematurity will go. But, this transformation left it's execution left so much to be desired just for it to immediately go away in this episode.

Additionally, the lack of explanation regarding Circusic’s abrupt reversion from Season 2, Episode 2, which inexplicably led to his sudden change back into his corrupted counterpart in the opening scene was just a bizarre oversight to watch. Unless, you guys provide possible theories like me on WHY it happened in the first place. But, there was no clarity or context provided for this shift.

Heroes are about to start swearing, which is just generally uncomfortable. Circubit unintentionally teaching Cyanide the swear word, "Asshole", even though the duo doesn't care, which is just totally unnecessary for cheap, lazy humor for the series (although some of you people will probably find it funny or not).

Cyanide’s (now Teal) character arc has been profoundly underwhelming. The progression from a kind yet overly naïve corrupt, mistreated and dismissed by those around her for three consecutive episodes, to a sudden desire for change, feels poorly executed. This shift, culminating in that subplot being resolved abruptly within this episode, comes across as a rushed and lazy decision.

Pros

Now onto pros, which they are at least a few.

Cyanide’s boss level was actually interesting, especially going along with the cipher analysis for her character. Even though like I said, the execution isn’t good enough for me.

It is somewhat intriguing to observe Circubit creating a specific task by the Reaper creature, aiming to corrupt Iris for reasons that remain unclear—possibly as an act of revenge or for some other purpose. It could be potentially good for this development to open a door for an actual plotline to explore the dynamic between Iris and his corrupted counterpart. Such as, diving into what he's soul realm will look like, revealing his counterpart's motivations. Or, maybe perhaps even exposing hidden insecurities that Iris harbors but conceals from those around him like how Cubic expose Cube's insecurity on his caretaking skills to his hero, Cyan since Season 1, Episode 3. (But, I don't know, considering his unlikability).

The Bossfight Group is set to return in the next episode, most likely airing somewhere next year for Season 2, Episode 5. We get a bit of additional depth of Circumsphere's character, as he reveals to Cintagon his awareness of Circusic and the Reaper Creature, even though I expecting more here. It is also possible that Circumsphere and Circusic may have once been acquaintances or even former friends.

So yeah, this episode is way worse than simply receiving a present filled with black coal on a warm, Christmas morning.

Anyway, HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!

[deoidesign]

Thinking about vampires, death, life, and the space they occupy in between

[ratatatastic]

lmaoooo maffhew wanting the knot immediately and having to wait for sasha to catch up with that is so deeply funny like. this omega is not subtle and you’re not a stupid alpha babe! can only imagine what benny has to say to maffhew about it once he catches on and stops banging his head against a wall

idiots to lovers is always great but especially when its two people who would be hitched with 10 kids by now if they stopped being dumb for a single second like its that easy and yet...

to me they very much fall around the same time (infatuation at first scent if you will) just that sasha takes some time to get there not because he's dumb (okay he's a little dumb) but in the sense that its like "this person is very interested in me, i can see and recognise that but theres so much cognitive dissonance in my brain right now between knowing that intrinsically and finding that hard to believe so i unintentionally play dumb because obviously i'm reading too much into things it cant be me they're interested in haha that'd crazy but they're being awfully touchy and flirty with me wow"

but also it takes two to tango and we have to acknowledge that and this is when i would love to bring up the ways in which this man decides is the best way to go about that because he is a catholic school girlie... there's so much hilarity to be had here especially because his flirting is very uh how you say... a little ass backwards if you will especially considering dynamics

"I make it a point to keep the door closed when we're alone in a room together! That's basically a clear invitation that I'm down to fuck!!! Im basically asking to be ragdolled on his knot!!!"

and Benny just pinches the bridge of his nose like "I don't know how to explain to you in a way you'll understand that not everyone went to Catholic school."

But saying that Sasha does side-eye the door knob heavily when Maffhew goes over to close it the first time and he starts sweating like he just got dragged into a game of 7 Minutes in Heaven he did not sign up for and he's 13 again and oh god he got paired with a really cute girl, and he hasn't even had his first real kiss yet and-

And then absolutely nothing happens because Maffhew is just waiting with a polite expectant smile (because his work here is done, he did the heavy lifting know it's Sasha's turn) and this is when Sasha's dynamic classes training kicks in and he basically scolds himself for even assuming in the first place because this is clearly a show of trust (correct) not an invitation for extra circular activities (incorrect buzzer noise) and it basically becomes "This Omega really trusts me, I'm honoured especially as Pack Leader that I'm able to be so accepted into such a private space with the inherent knowledge that I will not encroach their boundaries whatsoever because consent is verbal, this is not in any way an invitation to take advantage of them this is deep platonic trust I will guard with my life :]"

and if you listen closely you can hear the lovely sounds of Maffhew bashing his head into a wall about how much of a gentleman Sasha is but also COME ONNNNNN... you know... once Maffhew realises what's happening which (looks at my watch) is not due for another few months really

Battle of wills: unstoppable force (maffhews catholic school understanding of dynamic interactions) vs immovable object (overseas alpha cotillion classes)

And if you think it's an Oh! An overseas dynamic thing! It's not. The Euros are watching the horrible car crash in front of them and doing absolutely nothing about it because it's none of their business, but they will stare at it... maybe judge it a bit but definitely are observing from the tall grass.

and I'm also not saying that luosty lundy forsy and bobby have a current running bet of how long it'll take for maffhew to break sasha in but i'm also not not saying that... luosty goaded lundy in the midst of a gossip session ("It has to be 3 months, right?) forsy happened to be around so lundy turned to him for advice ("7 months.") and maybeeee bobby overheard from all the way over from his stall and puts in his two cents for what it's worth ("6. Captain nice but not that nice. Very impatient." "So 3!" "No. Impatience makes him double the time, and wait longer. 6 months.") (lundy finally settles on a good 5 months because he's indecisive)

And Sasha does eventually pick up everything maffhew is throwing down... eventually... and when he does it becomes more so I want to court this omega the way they deserve I will take this slow and romance them sweetly :) *smash cut to maffhew caterwauling like a cat in heat*

but also once again its not like maffhew is helping sasha in any way this is idiot4idiot and benny would like to enjoy the car crash with the euros but unfortunately that's his soulmate, thats his bestie, his littermate from birth who has been weaned on the same teat as they climbed over each other to get to it, the first girl you kissed in your childhood bedroom because somehow you started play fighting on the bed because she was like i could totally pin you down easy and then she does and you always noticed how beautiful she was but shes even more gorgeous when she's pinning your wrists to your hannnah montana duvet you promised yourself youd changed out before she came over but you forget and well she teased you about it and you cant help but giggle about how perfect this all is and it seems that the natural conclusion to this is to taste the strawberry lipgloss of her lips because whats a kiss between besties huh its tacky and sticky and it tastes like summer and just other apt metaphors to put here about the inherent -isms of their relationship that i nearly cant put to words properly other than girls having fun (they are fucking)

and well anyways benny is watching and he has a lot of things to say about how its been proceeding so far

"You should really use your words."

"I am!"

"Right because smelling like a fucking perfume shop in the middle of October is using your words."

"This usually works with most Alphas okay!"

"Sasha isn't most Alphas."

"Tell me about it." Matthew grouses before he peeks over to Sam, looking up from beneath his eyelashes—the exact way he knows both endears him to Sam but also absolutely miffs him all the same, "Worked on you, didn't it?"

"Oh, is that what we're doing right now? We're calling getting a lapful of a preening O in preheat in the middle of a roadie a normal way to go about these things."

"It worked didn't it?" Matthew reiterates.

"It would work better if you use—"

"Okay! Alright!! I get it!!!" He does not.

like benny here is unfortunately an active listening participant in the going ons of the fuckery if not because hes involved by proxy because of maffhew because who else will hold his hair back as he calls him a dumb bitch you know

[shannonsketches]

something something foils moving in opposite directions Goku's always happy to seek and fight stronger opponents because he spent most of his life being the strongest guy in the room and Vegeta wants to be the strongest/is always exhausted to find stronger opponents because he spent most of his life having to navigate his survival around the whims of the strongest guy in the universe room and so Goku has a foundation of safety and stability and so spends his time craving challenge and adventure and Vegeta has a foundation of challenge and adventure and spends his time craving safety and stability and the overlaid section of their venn diagram is that the only way they know how acquire and maintain those things is through battle

[orcelito]

I love....... community 🥺

[neverendingford]

hardwood comb project

I forgor to buy a lighter colored wood for the spine/core so I can't keep working on it tonight cause all I've got is the walnut.

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)