#even tho it will be almost a year of me playing on stick

[realboutfatalfury]

love playing kof 15 even at low quality <3 so much joy and wonder

[izzy-b-hands]

Got all excited last night bc i saw a post from a mod on the gta o subreddit abt the Halloween update being set to drop today around 5 AM (backed up by at least two gaming websites that had stories also stating the same start time and date)

Went in today ready for Halloween and uh. Nothing lol

Checked the actual Rockstar website and there's no mention of it, just that RDR o is getting a Halloween update this week

If i was a betting man I'd start a pool on how late in the month it'll be by the time the gta Halloween drops lmao

(also a pool on how likely it is the mod is lying; as they continue to insist they have access to all the usual Halloween stuff in GTA o today and that everyone who doesn't must not know how to restart their game to see if that changes anything, or maybe they didn't click play on GTA but a different game in their library? Which is insulting af, especially to the guy with the flare that shows he's at a level so high in the game that i frankly didn't know existed, who called them out and asked if maybe they didn't get confused and thought gta and rdr were both getting the update at the same time. Person was nice abt it, just asked plainly and said it was ok if that was the case, but that it would be helpful for others to know. poor dude immediately got piled on by the mod for it but like. he's right lmao. if that's the case it's fine! mistakes happen! but stop insisting you have access to something seemingly no one else trying to play online does!)

[intynidad]

Yandere otome au

TW: yandere tendencies, kinda suggestive in some part, talking about death and violence (not towards reader)

(All characters are 18+)

Long post

Part 2!

You wouldn't call yourself an otaku, although you enjoyed games and anime, you weren't like those hardcore fans... that was until you got your hands on a copy of "By Love for Love: The Game."

This game was just your cup of tea, and you might or might not have become obsessed with it.

The game consisted of the heroine trying to win the heart of one or more suitors before her rival. It sounds cliché, but the twist of the game was that the heroine had to manipulate the chosen love interest to get rid of her rival, so they could take revenge or something like that. You honestly stopped paying attention to the plot halfway through because you were more interested in talking to the cute boys and girls!.

You were playing when you fell asleep at your computer.

You woke up to the feeling of soft silk and the scent of vanilla, and wait, what?

Your sheets were definitely not made out of silk, and your room smelled like cup noodles, not vanilla!

You woke up in a flash and looked at yourself in the mirror.

Y/N L/N, heir of the L/N company, and the rival of the heroine.

Oh for fuck’s sake…

Okay, okay, don't panic. Yes, apparently, you have been transported into the game "By Love For Love," but not as the heroine, but as the rival!

That was very bad news. You tried to remember some of the plot as to why the heroine wants you dead, but your mind just wouldn't work right now.

You knew you were the competition for the heroine, and you would surely lose if you chose to actually fight against her for the love of any of the love interests. So, you came up with a plan.

You would try to maintain friendly terms with all the love interests and choose a route that the heroine wouldn't take. This way, the tension between the two of you wouldn't spark.

But nothing could be as easy as it seemed, right?

The childhood friend

He was your favorite among all the potential love interests. He was sweet, caring, and a true sweetheart to be around.

He was absolutely delighted when you showed an interest in spending more time with him and started paying attention when he talked about his day.(what are this feeling?)

Initially, he stuck around because your parents were friends, and you had known each other since you were both in diapers. But now, it seemed like there was something more between you.

Your sudden change in attitude and the way you became so sweet and caring towards him caught him off guard. He couldn't fathom how he hadn't noticed your true nature until now.

He firmly believed that your destinies were intertwined, as if they were star-crossed. In his eyes, you belonged together because you had been together since childhood.

("Hey, we're going to stick together until the end, right?")

("You wouldn't leave me, would you?")

The older family friend:

He was a business partner of one of your parents, despite being just a couple of years older than you.

The older family friend that you were terrified off because beneath his charming facade lay an extremely sadistic nature.

You vividly remember how he ruthlessly disposed of the rival when the heroine chose his route, which made you extremely wary of him.

The older family friend that failed to comprehend that whenever you two met, you dared not make eye contact with him. Your fear and unease were palpable.

the older family friend that began to see you as a small, cute bunny in need of protection. "Aren't you the cutest!" he would remark, as if finding amusement in your vulnerability.

The Older family friend that almost broke the hand of one of his coworkers that insinuated that he would ask you on a date

The older family friend that starts to fantasize about taking you to his place and adorning your body in strong silk ribbons so you wouldn’t be able to escape his love (even tho something thinking of you pleading for help was something that made him all giddy)

The older family friend that slowly sharpens his pencil and fantasies about stabbing it on the eye of any bastard that dares to look at you

The heroine

The heroine, initially, despised you with a fiery intensity.

She couldn't fathom how you had the audacity to show up with your attractive appearance, seemingly disrupting her path to finding the love(s) of her life.

Every time you smiled at her with genuine kindness and inquired about her day, it only fueled her anger further.

Her resentment grew to the point where she started to keep an eye on you, not out of genuine interest but rather hoping to uncover some sort of compromising information that she could potentially use against you.

After some time -totally not stalking you- she ended up craving even more about you

She just needed to know everything about you!

The heroine that starts to use her influence and pretty face to spread rumors of HER love interest,hoping that it might reach your ears and you back down and go running into HER arms

The loner

They were honestly the one you knew the least about. Despite encountering this love interest in the game, you found yourself drawn more to the other characters and their storylines. Their appearance, personality, or initial interactions simply didn't capture your attention or ignite that spark of curiosity within you.

Didnt you know he was a huge masochist and the fact that you ignore him just make you want you more!

Oh how they wish you could look at them with disdain and call them a freak and told them how you despise them and-gosh they are drooling aren’t they

They are just a Pathetic little person that is begging for you to step on their throat and push until it cracks

[wheeboo]

mine | joshua hong

SYNOPSIS. in which joshua is the best thing that's ever been... yours. PAIRING. joshua hong x gn!reader (ft. cheol, jeonghan, soonyoung, mingyu, chan - they don't rlly have dialogue tho lol) GENRE. fluff, some angst, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, established relationship WARNINGS. a very very brief shirtless joshua moment LMAO, implications of reader having a toxic ex, mentions that reader's parents have a rocky relationship and separate, kissing, terms of endearment, reader and joshua have a lil argument WORD COUNT. 3.6k

requested from @staranghae: joshua + mine by taylor swift for the 2k followers event please 🩷🎀

notes: i am fluent in this song!!!! whenever my love playlist comes on and this plays i literally scream lungs out!!! and shua fits this vibe so much <3

join the 2k celebration!

ONE. "i was a flight risk, with a fear of falling / wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts..."

Maybe you've always underestimated how the feeling of fresh air hitting your lungs makes you feel so replenished, free, like a single whiff blows away those gusts of worry in an instant.

Your fingers carry a tight, secure grip on Seungcheol's surfboard𑁋you volunteered to carry it for him so he could unload the other things from the van𑁋soft sand meeting your toes the second you step onto the beach for the first time of the summer season. Salty air tingles at your nose, the late afternoon sun baring down on your shoulders, and the expanse of the ocean opens up right before your eyes.

This place had basically watched you grow up. It carries a lot of memories that you hold dear to your heart.

You see Soonyoung already digging into the sand with an abnormally large stick, and Mingyu carrying a bunch of firewood in his arms before dropping them down onto the ground (and accidentally one on his foot, but you won't say anything about that).

However, your eyes drift and land on a figure running up from the beach shore. His dark hair is wet and sticking to his forehead, chest and arms revealed in all its glory before quickly covered up by a white, somewhat lacy button-down shirt that still doesn't do much in concealing the muscles underneath. For a moment, you nearly loose the grip on Seungcheol's surfboard.

Joshua Hong seems to spot you from even a mile away. He's running up to you before you even have the minute to breathe, a grin splitting his face that's as warm as the setting sun. Sand clings to his damp flip-flops and the hem of his black shorts as he nearly skids to a halt in front of you, chest heaving and out of breath. His shirt isn't even buttoned, dammit.

"Hey," he greets you breathlessly, letting his eyes take you in for a second. "Glad you could make it."

A soft smile of your own blooms on your face. "It's good to see you too, asshole."

A flicker of feigned hurt plays across Joshua's features. "Come on. That was so two years ago! I didn't want to push you in the water. You should know that by now."

"Wow, you care so much about me, don't you?" You nearly swing Seungcheol's surfboard playfully in his direction. "You listen to Jeonghan more than your own little brain."

"I swear, it's changed. Everything's changed since then," Joshua reasons lightly. "You have my ears for the entire night, I promise."

His words hang in the air for a moment, and there's perhaps a sliver of fondness in his eyes that you catch when your gazes meet. You feel a certain warmth spread through your chest that you try so hard to ignore each time he's around you.

You brush it off with a roll of your eyes before strolling past him, hoping that Seungcheol's surfboard was enough to cover up the slight flush creeping up your cheeks. The smile to your face still lingers as you walk towards to where Soonyoung and Mingyu are, whom dash up to you the moment they see you to engulf you in a welcoming hug.

Mingyu is almost done setting up the bonfire by the time you and Seungcheol bring all the food and supplies from the van. Jeonghan and Chan had arrived by the time the fire is lit up and crackling, casting a warm, inviting glow on the beach scene. And it isn't long when the yearly traditions of a group bonfire and beachside barbecue commence.

The smell of grilled food fills the air, mixing with the salty breeze and the crackle of the fire. And just for those moments, you forget these fuzzy feelings swirling around you as familiar laughter and camaraderie take over instead.

You've known all of your friends for different amounts of times, but being here with all of them makes it feel like time hasn't passed by at all. Inside jokes are exchanged, memories from as far as childhood resurface, and stories are told that leave you all doubled over with laughter (and Soonyoung nearly choking on a marshmallow).

It's almost natural in the way your eyes seem to search for Joshua's every single time that feeling of happiness threatens to overflow within you. The fire flickers upon his face, his eyes crinkled deeply when he smiles. Happiness looks good on him, you think. It always has.

...does his eyes search for yours too?

By the time the fire dies down, you find yourself sitting near the edge of the beach, with your legs stretched on the sand and the waves barely lapping against your feet. Seungcheol and Mingyu are already out on the ocean on their surfboards, then there's Chan and Soonyoung struggling to get their sandcastle to stay up, and Jeonghan is already knocked out on a beach towel. It's just you, and wherever the hell Joshua is.

"Something's bothering you, isn't it?"

The voice snaps you away from your thoughts, and you pick your head up to see Joshua walking up to you. A cool breeze flows through his strands of his hair as he approaches.

You blink at him. "What?"

He sits down beside you on the sand, close enough that the warmth of his body brushes against yours. "You were too quiet earlier."

You face back towards the water, cowering your head down as if guilty of some sorts.

"Oh," You murmur, somewhat to yourself. "Sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Joshua asks, nudging you lightly on the shoulder. "I told you earlier that I would be all ears for you."

You smile faintly at that. Would you still be all ears if I told you that I've been such a coward with my feelings for you?

"It's... just boy problems, I guess," You respond, though you feel a twinge of regret for wording it like that. It's more than just simply boy problems.

Joshua's jaw seems to tighten at that. "Did that jerk contact you again?"

You know who exactly he's talking about, and you let out a sigh. "No, not him. I... I blocked him a few months ago when he tried spam calling me again. Sort of gave me a good scare, to be honest."

At the corner of your eye, Joshua's hand digs aimlessly into the sand, clenching and unclenching a fistful before smoothing it out again.

"I'm glad you're okay," he says softly, gaze fixed on the grains of sand slipping through his fingers. "You deserve someone way better than him."

You chuckle at that, and a bittersweet pang shoots through your chest. It's true, you deserve better. But really, the problem isn't just jerks and bad relationships. It's the thought of falling for someone again and it all comes crashing down... again.

But it's not like you could hold back from falling when you've already fallen. The truth is undeniable at this point𑁋your heart already beats a little faster for the boy right next to you.

"Guys! Look at the sunset!" Chan's voice rings out into the cool, evening air, pointing an excited finger towards the horizon.

Simultaneously, you and Joshua bring your eyes up tot the sky together. The last rays of the sun are painting the sky in a breathtaking display of fiery oranges, pinks, and purples, like a fleeting masterpiece before nightfall takes hold.

"Wow," You mutter out in awe. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Joshua cocks his head to the side, a low hum leaving his lips. "Hmm, I could think of something more beautiful than that, honestly."

You scoff, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. "You ruined the sentimental moment, idiot."

Joshua lets out an amused laugh, a sound that sends those flutters blossoming in your stomach, one you haven't realised you've missed until this very moment. A small giggle of your own escapes your mouth as you bring your eyes back to the sunset together.

Then a low yawn stifles out of you. Maybe everything that has happened the past few hours are finally catching up to you. You let out another yawn, hoping Joshua doesn't notice. But of course, he does.

"Getting tired?" he asks you.

You give a small nod. "Just a little."

A few moment pass, before you feel an arm drape casually over your shoulders. The scent of Joshua and his warmth seeps within your bones. You almost want to protest, but the words get caught in your throat, and you lean your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

Perhaps you could spend a long time staying in this position and hope the silence is able to spill all the words you've been meaning to say for all this time, but you know it's easier said than done. Because what's the point of confessing anymore if you know it won't ever last? That you know it'll ruin everything you've built up to get this far?

You've seen it happen around you𑁋with you, your parents, hell even strangers online. It's taught you nothing but to run. That's what your mind tells you to do, but not your heart. And maybe you listen to your mind more often than not.

"Yo, Josh!" Mingyu's voice hollers out from the ocean, and you feel a certain pressure be lifted up from your head (when did he lay his head on yours?) as you catch the sight of Seungcheol and Mingyu motioning to their surfboards. "Wanna hop on?"

Joshua briefly glances down at you, and you meet his gaze, seeing the indecision in his features.

"I don't mind," You tell him. "I'll be fine here."

He hesitates. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me." You pick your head off from his shoulders. "Go have your boy-fun."

Joshua gives you a small smile, though there's a hint of reluctance in his expression. He shouts back to Mingyu and Seungcheol before standing up and brushing the sand off his shorts. You could hardly pull your eyes away from him as he does so.

He starts trotting away as you face back toward the ocean with a sigh, relinquishing the moments you get to have to gather up your thoughts.

"Hey, Y/N?"

You pick your eyes back up to Joshua marching back towards you. He stops in front of you, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You look beautiful today, by the way." Then he gives shoots you a wink before turning back around. "Just wanted you to know."

The kiss you leave to his cheek later on was really worth the risk.

TWO. "you learn my secrets and you figure out why i'm guarded / you say we'll never make my parents' mistakes..."

A picture frame of a four-year-old Joshua is staring back at you. He still has that same silly grin on his face, the one that has his own eyes smiling as well and makes your heart feel lighter every time you look at it. You reach out to touch the frame, tracing the outline of his little face with your fingertip.

Sometimes, you wish you could experience what he was like at this time𑁋to grow up with him, to know what exactly led him to meeting you. But then again, he's already here with you now, and maybe that's all that matters.

"All ready for bed?" Joshua's voice popping in makes you swiftly place back the picture frame back on his desk. You turn around to see him leaning against the doorway with a soft smile playing on his lips, clad with a simple white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants.

"Mhm," You hum out in response as you settle back under the covers of his bed.

It isn't the first night you've spent with him at his place, but you seem to seek the feeling of his comfort more often than sleeping in your own bed. Jeonghan has been kind of nagging you the two of you to move in together at this point, but that's a leap you're a bit hesitant to jump right now. But the drawer of your own clothes in his wardrobe is a bit of an argument that's hard to defend.

Joshua crawls his way into the spot right next to you, slipping under the duvet and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you more into his embrace. You feel his breath meet the nape of your neck, warm and soothing against your skin, and your eyes flutter to the feeling.

You shift your position so that you're facing him. His eyes are already closed, lips pursed up slightly, and even then he still looks absolutely stunning. But you know he isn't asleep. Not yet, at least.

"My parents had uh... another argument today," You confess lowly, hesitantly.

Joshua's eyes open up slightly, adjusting his head so he can look at you better. A faint crease of concern appears between his brows, the arm around you tightening imperceptibly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You bite at your bottom lip anxiously. There are times you feel as if the only thing that could get you talking is always something revolving your parents, and you wonder if Joshua ever gets tired hearing about all of it. The thought courses insecurity to crawl in your veins, tightening your throat.

But Joshua's patient gaze towards you cuts through the uncertainty bubbling in your chest.

"Just same old, same old, you know?" You attempt to explain. "It just feels like they can't see eye-to-eye anymore. There's like... I don't know... nothing left between them, I guess. And it scares me that... it'll happen to us."

The last sentence suspends thickly into the air. Even then, you know it's more than the truth𑁋you've grown up witnessing and overhearing arguments from your parents that laid down this pessimistic view on the world around you.

You could feel your heart racing from all the anticipation. There's a wave of emotions that washes over Joshua's face, then he takes a deep breath and squeezes you tighter in his hold.

"Hey," he mutters. "Look at me."

You hesitantly meet his eyes.

"We're not like them, okay?" he assures you simply, bringing his hand up to cup your face oh-so gently in his hold. "We may argue sometimes. But the difference is, we communicate. We listen to each other. And we may not have all the answers to everything, but we'll figure it out together, alright?"

You swear you can feel the way he's holding your face also on your heart, like he's protecting you in a way from any doubts that might creep in. A small sigh escapes you, the tension leaving your shoulders as his words wrap around you comfortingly. The faintest, appreciative curve appears to your lips as you feel Joshua's thumb brush against your cheek.

He dreamily smiles at you as well, despite his face being half-buried in the pillow. And the thought of being able to wake up to this sight every single day suddenly feels a lot less like a leap and a whole lot more like a promise.

Somehow, the gap between the two of you disappears as your lips meets his. He kisses you so tenderly, mouth moving against yours with a delicate urgency, and the tiny sound that leaves you brings that smirk you could feel forming on his face.

You feel almost dizzy when you pull away, nothing but a shy look gracing over your features.

"Feeling better?" Joshua asks softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face.

You could only gaze at him, wondering to yourself how he's even in real, how someone like him could exist with his sleepy smile, messy hair, and perfect features carved by the angels above, yet cherish you so dearly.

"Can you..." Your eyes flicker from eyes to his lips. "Can you... keep kissing me?"

It feels really silly to ask that, however Joshua just chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest as he peers at you with nothing but adoration.

"Of course," he replies, leaning back in. "Whatever you want."

THREE. "braced myself for the goodbye, 'cause that's all I've ever known / then you took me by surprise / you said, 'I'll never leave you alone...'"

The tears streaming down your face burns through the concrete below like acid.

"Y/N, wait𑁋"

"I told you that I-I can't do this right now."

The leaves crunching at your feet echo in your ears as you walk away from Joshua, each step feeling heavier than the last. It's around two in the morning or something, and you can't remember the last time you felt this lost and broken ever since your parents' separation. It's like the ground beneath you has crumbled away, leaving you suspended in midair, grasping for something𑁋just anything𑁋to hold onto.

You've been here before, standing at the edge of this cliff of vulnerability. It's easier to leave before you get left, easier to build walls than to let someone in only to watch them walk away.

But you've come to understand that Joshua isn't one to give up easily. He catches up to you quickly, his hand gently grasping your arm to stop you in your tracks. You try to shrug him off, but his grip only tightens slightly as he turns you around to face him.

"Talk to me," he pleads insistently, and the subtle tremble to his voice has your chest clenching. "If you're just going to keep pushing me away, then𑁋"

"Then leave." The words leave you before you can stop them, fueled by the ache in your chest and the fear in your heart. "You don't have to stay with me when all I-I do is push you away. Don't you think you deserve someone better?"

Joshua's grip on your arm loosens at your words, but it doesn't fall. His eyes scan over your tear-stained face, the quiver to your lips, and all of it has you bracing yourself for the inevitable, final blow𑁋for him to turn and walk away like so many others before him.

But instead, he just steps closer to you.

"This isn't about me staying because I have to, Y/N," he explains. "It's about me wanting to stay because I love you. I knew what I was getting into the second I realised I was falling for you. So no, I'm not going to leave you. And I'll never leave you alone because I know you're worth fighting for."

Your breath catches in your throat, his words piercing through you like a bullet straight through the heart. Even Joshua appears out of breath himself, as if he's poured his own heart out to you in those few simple sentences. The silence stretches between the two of you.

With a quiet sigh and a faint smile, he lets the tension simmer down by trailing his eyes over you.

"When I look at you, I think... I think I fall in love with you all over again like the first time I saw you," Joshua admits shyly, followed by a sheepish chuckle to himself. "It's cheesy, I know. But I can't help it. It's hard not to look at you."

You feel the heat crawling up your face as you blink away your tears clumsily, peering up at him inquisitively. "Really?"

This just draws another laugh from him. Joshua steps closer to you, trailing a hand to cup your face and the other to slide to your back to shorten the gap between the two of you even more. He places a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulls back slightly to meet your gaze.

"Really," he confirms, voice gentle yet firm. "I meant every word I said, darling."

This brings a genuine smile to your face as if it was the first one that night. You instinctively lean more into Joshua's touch, letting your eyes close for a moment to the simple feeling of him holding you.

"I'm sorry," You mumble, voice barely above a whisper. "for pushing you away like that. It's just... I'm scared."

Joshua takes one of your hands into his own to bring up to his lips, pressing a reassuring kiss to your knuckles.

"It's okay," he assures you. "We can be scared together."

FOUR. "do you believe it? / we're gonna make it now / and i can see it / i can see it now."

A pair of arms snake around your waist from behind, the relaxing melody of a piano floating through the air of the kitchen. You take in a deep breath, leaning back into Joshua's embrace as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

"Smells amazing, honey," Joshua murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

You smile contentedly, feeling the peace of the moment wash over the two of you. The enticing smells of the pasta you were cooking waft around the kitchen, mingling with the scent of fresh herbs, garlic, and Joshua's presence right behind you.

"It should be ready soon," You say, clutching the wooden spoon in your hands to give the sauce a final stir.

Joshua's eyes arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer as he sways gently to the music. You hear the sounds of his hums hit your ears as you turn to the heat off to the stove. And as you attempt to pull away from him to grab for some plates, Joshua's grip on your waist hardly budges.

You groan exaggeratedly. "Shua, I need to𑁋"

"Marry me."

You freeze immediately, and you swear time halted right at that moment. Turning around in his hold, you're met with the sight of Joshua's eyes on you. You try to pinpoint any doubt in them, any sign that this is some sort of joke, but his gaze remains unwavering, dark eyes serious yet painted with a shine of hope that tugs right at the strings of your heart and the walls of your hesitation.

There's always that fear gnawing at in the back of your mind. But beneath it all, a warmth spreads through your chest, a certainty that feels as natural as breathing.

And perhaps, you see nothing but forever in him.

You can see it in the way his eyes soften, in the way his hand trembles anxiously against your waist, in the way his lips part ever so slightly as he waits for your response. You can see it all in him. You've made it.

You kiss him just seconds later. It's a question your heart has already answered long before the words left Joshua's lips. You lean more into his touch, feeling your heart overflow past the brink of joy, and the feelings all melt together into the singular realisation that he's the best thing that's ever been yours.

When the two of you finally break away, a single word escapes your lips, "Yes."

another note: sorry this ending was slightly rushed T-T

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[awooghan]

fall in love with me (this christmas) ✧.* h.hj

➳ PAIRING: hyunjin x fem!reader

➳ GENRE: fluff, mild angst, best friends to lovers, fake dating, christmas

➳ WARNINGS: mild language, mentions of food, hyunjin is tipsy in one part (he and reader are ‘00 or ‘01 tho so they’re legal), UNEDITED (will be fully edited by new years) UPDATE: fully edited as of jan. 19, 2024

➳ WORD COUNT: 22.9k (final wc after editing)

➳ SUMMARY: hyunjin has one last chance to have a college christmas romance and he’ll do anything to have it—even if it means fake-dating his best friend. (inspired by "cold december night" by michael buble)

➳ NOTES: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!! 🎄❄️ i hope you have/had an amazing day with love ones and good food! this fic is my christmas collab with my bestie @ujimoo :3 some parts r kind of rough bc we didn't fully edit yet but i hope y'all enjoy <3

network tags: @kflixnet @straykidsland-main @kwritersworld

prologue.

– halloween.

You didn’t think the night could get any worse.

The night started from the moment you caught a whiff of beer, sweat, and Dior Sauvage as Hyunjin dragged you by the hand to ‘Jackson’s 2023 Annual Hallo-Wang Party’. You could think of a thousand other ways you wanted to spend your Halloween that didn’t involve being stuck here, but you lost a bet with Chan, so you don’t exactly have a choice.

So here you are, sitting in the kitchen with your now-ruined costume sticking to your skin, thanks to someone (Jeongin) spilling his tequila on you when you were playing beer pong. Now, not only is your head throbbing from the smell of frat party, but you have an ugly pink blotch on the costume you took weeks to put together.

You nurse whatever the concoction of alcohol is the punch when Hyunjin, too tipsy for his own good, slides up next to you and rests his chin on your shoulder. 

“Y/NNN~…” he sighs, wrapping his arms around your waist. “There you are!” 

Fighting against his hold on you, you’re finally able to get his hands away from your waist, only for him to wrap his arms around your arm like a lost child. 

“Why don’t you love me?” he mumbles, hiccuping at the end of his sentence. “Do you hate me?” 

A smile tugs at your lips as you turn to look at your best friend. His blond hair falls in front of his eyes as he stares at you. “Of course.” 

His nose scrunches in disgust and he shakes his head as your laughter surrounds him. It somehow makes him feel lighter than all of the alcohol he’s drunk combined. 

“You’re so mean, why would you say that?” he whines. He grabs your arm tighter and shoves his head on your shoulder. 

Exhaling, you pat his head lightly before resting your head on his. It’s like the world goes silent for a moment as you run your fingers through his hair.

You’re both like that for an uncertain amount of time before Hyunjin jumps back up, his arms still around your arm. A large tipsy smile creeps on his face and he suddenly begins to giggle. The way his eyes light up almost makes you do the same.

“I think Jisoo is going to ask me out~” He sighs dreamily.  “I feel the vibes, you can feel it too, right?” 

You catch the way two of your friends, Changbin and Jisung, are watching you from the kitchen door. Sticking your tongue out at them, they return it with winks, eyeing up both you and Hyunjin. 

You turn back to the giggly blond clinging to your arm and shrug. “I’m not sure. I don’t really see her around campus.”

You’re not trying to sound like you’re completely disinterested in what Hyunjin’s saying, but when you already know where it’s heading, you can’t help it. You’re not really sure Hyunjin is even listening though when he sighs to himself and tugs on your arm again. 

“This is—” tug. “My chance—” tug. “For my Christmas romance, Y/Nie.” A harder tug.  “I can feel it in the air!” Aggressive shaking.

Breaking your arm away from him, you huff. Can’t you have one night before Hyunjin’s constant babbling about Christmas and Christmas romances?

“Can we wait till after Halloween to talk about Christmas, please?” you groan, causing Hyunjin to sneer at you. 

“Why do you have to be such a Grinch?” he attempts to whisper—but his intoxicated brain has other ideas. 

You attempt to ignore the feeling of his arms sneakily slipping around your waist again and the way his head seems to fit into the dip of your shoulder as you sigh.

“Ask me about it again tomorrow.” 

…

You really didn’t think the night could get any worse. But after corralling Hyunjin, who could barely stand on his own, back to his dorm, you were proven wrong. So, so wrong.

When you finally untangle yourself from his hold and hand him off to his poor roommate, Felix, it’s 11:58pm. Normally, you wouldn’t care to watch the clock for something so mundane, but you had a feeling he was going to text you the minute you look away.

And sure enough, the second you leave Hyunjin’s dorm building, you feel your phone vibrate in your hoodie pocket.

Hyunnie : it’s november 1st Hyunnie : it’s christmas time bitch!! Hyunnie : ah Hyunnie : sorry for calling you a bitch… Hyunnie : i got excited TT

You can only roll your eyes fondly. At least it’s November now.

one.

– november 1st.

Hyunjin feels sticky. 

Every year he rejoices at the start of the Christmas season, but every year he also forgets that the start is the one part he hates. The morning is so nice and icy-cold, everything sweater weather should be. But by midday… the sweater has to come off. Then he’s sweating in places he shouldn’t be, he’s itching all over, and he’s all grumpy and gross and he just wants to shower twenty times to try and rid himself of the feeling of his clothes clinging to his skin. 

He can see his breath just past his nose as he tries to rid his shoes of the mush that is the remains of fallen leaves. He knows he shouldn’t have worn his pristine white sneakers that you had gotten him for his birthday earlier that year (ones that he, not to mention, cleans frantically after every use). But they go so well with his dark grey jeans that he had to! The things he does for his passion for fashion…

When Jisoo first messaged him asking to meet up by the trees, it felt like a dream come true, one he’s been waiting for for so long. But now that he’s here, he’s not sure how long he’s been waiting, but he feels like he’s a Sim with stink lines coming off of him and he wants to scream. His controller must hate him because nothing is going as he planned. 

So when he finally sees Jisoo in the distance, he lets out a sigh of relief. He sees her try and keep her bag on her shoulder as she rushes over. When she’s finally in front of him, with strands of hair stuck to her face, her mouth slightly open as she tries to catch her breath… all Hyunjin does is blink. 

If you had asked him a week ago, he would have found this adorable. He would have screamed in her face and pinched her cheeks, before running to his dorm and spamming your texts about how Jisoo is the cutest girl he’s ever seen and how his heart has never beaten as fast as it does around her. 

But now he’s standing there, with the love of his life right in front of him, and he feels… wrong. There’s murky puddles and soggy leaves surrounding his and Jisoo’s feet, an angry draft blows past his ears as he tries to read Jisoo’s lips, and a stifling blanket that’s the same dirty shade of grey as his dryer lint trap smothers him from overhead. Nothing feels right, he feels icky, and his heart is fluttering for all the wrong reasons. All he wants to do is run off into the sunset, and not with her.

He barely even hears her as the whole world moves in fast forward while he stands there completely still. And he doesn’t even remember what he says before he walks away, his shoulder brushing against Jisoo’s in the process. He doesn’t even turn back when he hears her call out to him multiple times. 

He’s sure that when he tells you his over-dramatised version of what he assumes was Jisoo’s confession, you’ll do your exaggerated laugh that makes you snort and then complain that you snorted. You’ll look at him in a way that screams ‘I told you so,’ and he hates it so much that he considers not telling you at all.

But even he knows he’s a blabbermouth and as soon as he lays his eyes on you, the words will fall out of his mouth before he even has a chance to think. 

So he goes to the nearest pizza place by your dorm, and he orders your usual: half cheese, half pepperoni. You’re too indecisive to pick just one, so you get both. He orders his own pizza too and he sits and waits, stripping himself of his scarf and his hat before shoving it into his backpack and playing around with his hair, trying to get it to look right before his order is called. 

When he’s finally outside your door, he doesn’t bother to knock—he walks straight in and calls out for you. You rush out of your room, an oversized hoodie covering your frame with your hood up. 

“Damn it, Hyun, can’t you call before you show up uninvited?” you huff, instantly eyeing up the pizzas. “What would you have done if I wasn’t here?” 

Hyunjin shrugs. He knows there’s no way you’d be anywhere else. Your friends are his friends and they’re all in class or with their own significant others… not that that matters…

He hands you your own pizza and smiles at the way you smile when you fall onto the couch and stuff the first slice into your mouth. A muffled ‘thank you’ somehow escapes your lips. Gulping it down, you wipe your mouth with your sleeve, causing Hyunjin to curl his lip in disgust.

“Why are you here, anyway?” you ask before tearing off another bite of pizza.

“No reason.” He’s trying his best to do a Mary-Kate and Ashley and keep his lips sealed, but it’s no use. 

You just blink at him until the dam finally bursts. 

“Jisoo confessed to me and I turned her down.”

Still blinking, you furrow your eyebrows as you look at him in confusion. “But… isn’t that what you wanted?” 

Hyunjin keeps his eyes locked on the pizza slice he’s playing with aimlessly instead of actually eating. He can’t even explain how he’s feeling. He wanted, no, dreamed of the perfect confession, and he blew his chance. Because of… bad vibes? How do you even explain that?

“I… I don’t know,” he mumbles. He sighs, dropping the pizza box on his lap as he throws his head back against the couch to look up at the ceiling. “It just…” He pauses. “It wasn’t what I thought it would be.” 

“Is a confession ever going to be perfect, though?”

Hyunjin sits up instantly at the question. The way he moves so suddenly makes you jump, but he doesn’t mean to scare you. He’s just very… passionate…  about the subject. ‘Passionate’ may not be enough to describe it.

“Of course it can be!” He has to stop himself from blabbing too much. He’s sure you’re tired of hearing his speeches about this, so he just gives you the short version. “It’s the biggest moment of any relationship! With the right person, it’s always going to be perfect. Like, you know in your heart when it’s right, and…” he sighs, “I didn’t feel that.” 

He looks at you, and you nod. “Then… maybe you didn’t like her as much as you thought you did?” 

Hyunjin falls against the couch again. His voice comes out as a whine this time, “But that was my last chance at a Christmas romance!” 

Is he being dramatic? Maybe a little, Hyunjin figures. He’s just lucky it’s you he’s ranting to, because the most you do in response to this is huff and give him a look. If it was one of mutual friends, they would have slapped some sense into him by now. Metaphorically, at least… hopefully.

“This isn’t your last chance at a Christmas romance, you know that right?” you say. “You’re acting like this is your last Christmas, period.” 

He sinks somehow further into the couch. “Okay, fine.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “My last college Christmas romance.” 

“You didn’t have one last year? Why does it matter now?” you ask, reaching once more for your pizza. 

“Because it’s our final year!! That’s kind of the point of it being the final chance, Y/N.” 

Hyunjin knows you mean well, but you rolling your eyes at him as you shove another bite into your mouth isn’t helping his plight. He can’t help but frown at you, though, not only because of your reaction, but now because you’re talking with your mouth full.

“Here’s an idea,” you gulp down some of the pizza stuffed in your cheeks, “just fake it till you make it. Get someone to fake date you.” 

It takes a second for Hyunjin to process what you say. But when he does, he gasps loudly and sits up even faster than last time. He turns and grabs hold of your shoulders so fast that it takes all of your force not to fall backwards.

“You’re a genius!”

You smirk, shrugging your shoulders. “I know. No need to remind me.” 

The look of disgust returns and Hyunjin slowly moves his hands away from your shoulders like you just infected him with something. “Don’t make me regret saying that.” 

“We both know it’s true, though.” 

“I hate you.” 

“I hate me too.” 

He ignores your self-degrading comment and sighs. His arms find their way to cross themselves over his chest once more and he thinks to himself for a minute. He has a world of possibilities at his fingertips, but he knows exactly what he wants to do. Just… he doesn’t know how to say it. Might as well just rip the bandaid.

“So when’s our first fake date?”

You cough out whatever pizza you had left in your mouth and it takes you a moment to catch your breath again. When you finally have a moment to breathe, you look at Hyunjin. “Our what?!” 

Hyunjin simply blinks at you. He just asked the most obvious question in the world, and you’re looking at him like you just asked him to solve a derivative. He doesn’t even remember what that is.

You motion for him to continue, but he’s still blinking. “What?” he says.

“When I suggested fake dating someone, I didn’t mean me!”

“Of course it has to be you!” he frantically tries to explain.  “I-I can’t just ask a random person to fake date me when I have no idea who they are!” 

“So you just assume I’d say ‘yes’?!” 

“Oh, come on, please!” he begs, actually getting down on the floor in front of you. He links his hands together as he whips out his best puppy dog eyes. 

He waits and goes still and keeps giving you that cartoonish pleading stare. Then, you sigh.

“I feel like I get nothing out of this. You get your fake Christmas romance and what do I get? A fake boyfriend I didn’t ask for?” 

He goes still again. He thinks hard about anything that will get you to agree. He’ll pull out the big guns, if he has to. And that’s what he does, and based on the terrified look on your face, he’s sure he has a crazed gleam in his eyes when he says it.

“I’ll never complain about not having or finding a Christmas romance again!” 

Hyunjin can’t believe he said that. You stare at him, he’s staring at you. He’s sure you don’t believe him.

“Come on!” he huffs. “Don’t look at me like that!”

“You can’t keep anything to yourself, you really believe you’d be able to keep that?” 

Hyunjin nods frantically.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he hears you mutter before looking him in the eyes. “Fine. I’ll do it.” 

Hyunjin’s up in another flash, pushing you with all his weight against the couch as he hugs you even tighter. 

“THANK YOU!! You’re the best!!” 

And in the next moment, he’s standing, his hand out for you to take. “Let's go!” A confident beam is plastered on his face. He can’t say the same for you.

“Huh?”

You just keep staring at his outstretched hand. Knowing you’re not going to move, Hyunjin just huffs and grabs your hand, pulling you to the front door.

“On our first date, decorating your dorm!!” 

“HUH?!”

—

As you walk through the store, Hyunjin has his fingers entwined with yours so tightly that you almost think he’s cutting off blood flow. It’s almost as if he was afraid you’d change your mind and disappear if he let go. 

He beelines towards the Christmas decorations. You don’t know why he insisted on buying more when you still have the stuff that he made you get last year—you just forgot where you put it. But you live in a tiny college dorm, so it’s not like you had many places to look.

It’s whatever, you guess. You don't bother to question what’s going through his mind right now. It won’t end well if you do.

Hyunjin’s other hand is pushing an extra large cart you're sure you don’t need, but he got it anyway. He can’t possibly be thinking of filling up the whole cart, can he? You live in a college dormitory. Only so much can fit.

After what seems like a lifetime, you’re both in front of the Christmas decorations. With his hand still stuck to yours like glue, he starts to examine each set of decorations with his other hand, holding it up close to his eyes as if he doesn’t have perfect vision. 

“What are you doing?” you ask. 

“Checking,” he mutters, placing a box of lights back down on the shelf before picking up another one.

“Checking for…?” 

He huffs, drops his shoulders, and stares at you with nothing behind his eyes. “The perfect lights. They shouldn’t be broken and we need to know they’ll shine bright enough.” 

“They’re lights, Hyun,” you respond simply. “It doesn’t matter if they’re perfect or not.” 

Pushing your lips into a line, you stare at each other in silence for a moment or two—honestly, you’re not too sure how long the moment actually is. Hyunjin just looks away, placing the box of lights back onto the shelf. 

“You’re relying too much on everything being perfect.” 

You feel the way his grip tightens around your hand. He stays silent, picking up another box of lights before placing them in the shopping cart. “These are perfect,” he says, ignoring your words. “We should get these.” 

He pushes the cart further down whilst dragging you along in the process. Picks up another set of lights, checks them, and puts them down, before repeating this a few times before he’s happy with the one he’s decided on. He does this for many of the tinsel, for some random ornaments, and for random chocolates and candy canes to hang on the tree. 

You’re fiddling on your phone when he tugs on your hand, causing you to look up at him. In his free hand are two mini stuffed animal ornaments. He’s gazing at them with a look in his eyes you can’t quite place.

“It’s us.” His eyes find yours. There’s a softness to his voice that compliments the warm smile he gives you. “We should get them… they’re perfect.” 

This time, you squeeze his hand back. His smile infects you, and you’re unable to do anything but return it. Nodding, you return your gaze back to the two little stuffed ornaments. “They are perfect… like us.” 

“There’s that smile I missed so much!” he says sarcastically.

“Aaaand moment ruined.”

You tug at his hand, trying to get them to finally unlink. The sweat forming in between them is getting a bit much. 

“You can’t escape from me that easily,” Hyunjin says with a smoulder.

“Ew,” you fake gag. “You’ve been hanging out with Jisung too much. Only he makes the fuckboy thing work, bestie.” 

“Bestie- zoned?” Hyunjin gasps, his over-dramatic look you’re so accustomed to taking over his features. “I thought I was your boyfriend?” 

Your smile drops and you want to smack him and his teasing into next week. “FAKE boyfriend.” 

He turns from you as he hisses to you or himself—you’re not really sure which—before he pulls you further down the aisle. 

“You’re no fun.”

two.

– november 3rd.

Looking around your dorm makes you want to throw up. 

After Hyunjin took you (read: dragged you) shopping the other day, the boy immediately took the bags of stuff to your dorm and started plastering the stuff everywhere. Now, the room is filled to the brim with golden lights and colourful tinsel, and your little desk tree was just as flashy. Considering that your space is a tiny college dorm, it makes the space feel a bit suffocating, but not unenjoyable.

You fear Hyunjin took “deck the halls” a little too far and that your dorm will catch on fire because of it, not just because of the three separate Christmas candles Hyunjin insisted on buying, but also because of how dangerously close they were to the tinsel. You wonder what your roommate, Yeri, would say about this. Actually, you’re not entirely sure when you last saw her.

You aren’t able to dwell much longer on the thought as a knock followed by a crash and yelp pulls you out of your own head. You hurry to the door and open it to find none other than your Christmas menace, Hyunjin, sprawled on his butt in front of you. Bags with what appear to be baking ingredients are spread all over the ground around him. 

“Hey~” is the only thing he says, a sheepish smile on his face, as you stare at him incredulously. 

“What’s all this?”

“It’s…” he starts as you help him up, then trails off once he’s upright. He bends down to pick up a bag of chocolate chips by his feet, then he looks at you and holds them out proudly. “…Our next date!”

You roll your eyes fondly at the boy. Of course, he already thought up a second date idea so soon. Knowing him, he’s probably been planning this since he got home after the first date.

But still, you can’t help but crack a smile. Baking cookies seems like a fun little fake date—after all, it’s hard to make Christmas cookies into some sappy Hallmark scene. Plus, you get to keep half the batch at the end.

What could go wrong?

As you help pick up the rest of the ingredients off the floor, you notice a neatly folded piece of paper fall out of Hyunjin’s pocket. You stick it in your pocket before placing a milk carton and a brown sugar pack on the kitchen island, then you take out and unfold the paper, squinting as you read it.

“Is this… Felix’s recipe?” you say. The distinct way he loops his ‘Y’s gives it away for you.

“N… No…” Hyunjin tries to convince you, but his statement comes out as more of a question than a definitive answer.

You give him another incredulous look.

“Okay, fine, it is!” he huffs, throwing his head back dramatically. “I begged him for the recipe so we could try to make it together. His cookies always come out great, so it can’t be that hard!” He grins confidently, but that facade quickly fades. “…Right?”

A smile returns to your lips. “Right! Yeah!” You’re afraid your smile looks more nervous than confident, though. “Totally…”

“We can do it! I think…”

Hyunjin laughs a little, and you follow too, even if it feels somewhat forced.

“And if we fail, we’ll just get the store-bought ones!” he adds. “Easy as pie.” A small smile dances on his lips. “Anything for my favourite girlfriend~” he sings, winking at you playfully.

Any hint of your smile, real or not, drops at the sentence.

“Fake girlfriend.”

“Potayto, potahto. Now help me with the batter.”

…

“Are you sure you’re doing this right?” you say.

Instead of jumping into baking right away, you and Hyunjin have spent the past ten minutes overwhelmed over the instructions Felix provided. It’s not that they’re difficult or anything—fifteen steps to make some cookies just feels like a lot. 

Especially to two beginners, one of which is struggling to cut a one-pound stick of butter in half with a cleaver. You’re left to watch Hyunjin nearly slice his fingers as he tries, a near-grimace twisted on your face.

“I got it, I got it!” Hyunjin grunts as he tries to push the cleaver down.  “Almost… there…”

The way his fingers are so dangerously close to the blade makes you wince. After another moment, you can’t take watching him anymore.

“Oh my god, give me the knife.”

In hindsight, it was probably a bad idea to shoo Hyunjin away from the cleaver while he’s holding it for dear life. Knowing him, he could’ve found a way to cut himself even after he let go. Luckily, you both remain unscathed and you successfully cut the butter in half.

“What’s next?” Hyunjin asks as he watches you cut one of the halves. He peeks at the recipe over your shoulder.

You scan the paper for the next step, moving it quickly so he can see, too. “Looks like the… dry ingredients? We can start with the flour, I guess.”

“Flour…”

Hyunjin hums along with “Santa Tell Me” by Ariana Grande as he digs through the ingredient pile on the island. You glance up and find yourself giggling at the silly hand gestures he makes.

“Flour coming right…” he announces, letting out a grunt as he lifts the giant bag, “…up!”

You set the cleaver aside and rush to help him carry the bag. “Why’d you buy the ten kilogram bag?!”

“I didn’t know how much we needed!” He lets out a dramatic huff once you both get the bag on a stool.

“I’m pretty sure a normal-sized bag would have been enough, Hyun.”

“Look,” Hyunjin huffs again and runs a hand through his hair, “I’ve learned from Felix, alright? This is serious cookie and movie date business and we can’t make mistakes.” 

Fake cookie date.

“But there’s going to be mistakes, that’s just how it is.” You shrug, carefully opening the bag, then letting out a sigh as a lump of flour falls out onto the floor. “Just think, Felix’s recipes weren’t perfect straight away—” 

Hyunjin cuts you off with a gasp. A hand flies over his heart as he stares at you with betrayal. “Excuse you, they’ve always been great. You’re lucky I wouldn’t tell him you said that.”

You decide not to say anything else, but get the flour ready to sieve into the mixture. “Do you want to do this or I?” 

Even though he still has too much energy, he gently pushes you out of the way and takes the sieve from your hands. “Me, me, me.” 

Without bothering to do anything else, he takes a handful of flour and dumps it into a sieve and starts tapping at the side of it. 

“Hyunjin!” you gasp, “We could at least measure it first!” 

“Live a little, Y/N!” Hyunjin sways to the music. “You said nothing has to be perfect right away! I’m trying to follow your advice.” 

You blink, half-laughing, half-scoffing. “I didn’t mean to not follow the recipe! We still have to, you know.”

Hyunjin doesn’t say anymore, he just continues to sieve the flour into the bowl. However, by the bridge of the song, he’s so into it that he’s nearly forgotten what he’s doing. While he goes on autopilot, the flour soon enough misses the bowl entirely and lands on the kitchen counter and over his shoes. 

“Oops,” he giggles. 

“I’m baking with a child,” you mutter to yourself, arms crossed over your chest. 

He picks up another handful of the flour and looks down at the mixture before looking over at you. He stares at you, you stare at him. It’s like a silent battle. 

“Don’t you dare.” 

He does dare. However, instead of throwing it at you, he throws it up; and instead of landing on you directly, it falls lightly to the floor, just barely falling into your socks. He grins and a giggle escapes his lips. 

Whatever self-control you have leaves you at that moment and you grab your own handful of flour. As you step forward, he steps back, causing you to raise an eyebrow. 

“You’re not scared… are you?” you question.

He scoffs. “Me? Scared?” He fakes a cackle. “Never!” 

You take another step forward. He takes another back. 

“So you wouldn’t mind if I—” 

Rushing forward, you push your hand into his cheek, letting the flour fall from your hand and over him. Some of the remnants left on his cheek fall as he huffs. 

“That’s it.” He grabs another scoop. “You’re on.” 

You have exactly two seconds to decide what to do before Hyunjin stalks toward you, a mischievous grin on his face and handful of flour held high. You turn and start to scramble away from him right as he pounces, trying to grab you so he can dump the flour on your head.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” He giggles tauntingly. “Don’t you want a hug from your loving boyfriend~?” 

“Fake boyfriend!” you call over your shoulder.

Trying desperately not to trip, you make a mad dash for the living room, Hyunjin’s cackles ring in your ears as he bounds closer. You get two more big steps in and just as you’re about to leap for the couch, a strong arm wraps itself around your middle and pulls you back. 

“Got you~” Hyunjin’s voice is right next to your ear and you can practically hear him smirking in victory. You wriggle around, trying to free yourself but it’s to no avail. 

You’re able to turn just enough to face him and send him the glare he deserves. He just faces you, narrowing his eyes for a second, then that look falls to a more disapproving one.

“Are you ready to follow the recipe now?” the boy asks sassily.

You want to smack his pretty face so bad.

“I hate you.”

…

Surprisingly, Hyunjin keeps his word and actually follows Felix’s recipe, word-for-word. You’re happy with how the balls of cookie dough turned out, even though you just placed them in the oven—and don’t tell Hyunjin, but you ate a bit of the dough. It’s too good.

“And now we wait twelve minutes,” you declare as you start a timer on your phone. You leave it on the island and head over to the living room.

You watch, baffled, as Hyunjin spreads out tattered-looking physical copies of a bunch of Christmas movies over your coffee table. Once they’ve landed in a heap, he turns back and looks at you, the same way a dog does when it thinks it's done something incredible. 

To say you’re confused as to why he brought over DVDs when you could just rent the movies online is an understatement. Especially when he knew full well that you somehow had access to Chan’s Netflix account—you hacked it, but is it really hacking when his password is ilovefelix143?

Hyunjin’s eyebrows basically merge. Instead of being a little happy puppy, he’s now like a puppy with his tail stuck between his legs. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Your eyes shift from him to the movies and back.

“You…” sigh. “You know we have Netflix, right?” 

“That’s not the same thing,” he whines. “And you know it! The vibe will be totally off if we watch them all on Netflix!”

You might as well be a fan of BlackPink because all you can do is blink. “And it won’t be if we watch them on DVD?” 

Rising his fist, Hyunjin grabs your shoulder to shake you lightly. As you attempt to push him away, his grip somehow gets tighter. 

“Just pick,” shake. “one to,” he tugs your arm. “ start with!” 

“Alright!” You huff, flailing your arms around to finally get him to drop his grip. You point in a random direction. “That one!” 

It’s his turn to blink. “You’re not pointing at shit and you know it.” 

…

With a movie finally picked out, the title screen theme of The Muppets’ Christmas Carol begins to repeat as Hyunjin is in the kitchen getting the cookies out of the oven. However, after the fifth repeat, you’re ready to pull your hair strand by strand from your head. 

“Are you almost ready?!” you call out to him. “This music is driving me insane!”

Part of you wants to complain more, but you bite your tongue. It could’ve been worse—it could’ve been the theme of When Harry Met Sally on repeat.

Hyunjin appears at the door, tray in hand. “You can’t really go mad if you’re already there.” 

If it wasn’t a threat to the precious cookies currently residing in the tray in his hands, you would have thrown every pillow on this couch at him. 

“You say I’m mean to you, but then this is how you treat me!” You gasp, watching as he rolls his eyes.

You catch the way his lip turns up into a smirk when he sets down the tray of cookies on the coffee table. 

“I’m so sorry my precious girlfriend, whom I care so deeply about, how can I ever repay you?”  

It’s go time. Grabbing the pillow, you aim and whack him over and over as he falls onto the couch, his arms up in protest, but his laughter is still loud enough to seep into your ears. “Not the face! I’m too beautiful to die this young!” 

“I,” whack. “hate,” you huff and raise the pillow above your head. “you,” whack. “so much!” 

He somehow grabs the pillow, pulling it towards him. But with his strength, he accidentally pulls you forward, causing you to fall onto his chest. Like on instinct, his arms wrap around you tightly to stop you from falling off of the couch. 

You feel his breath on your ear as he lets out a chuckle and it makes a tingle run up your spine.

“I know you love me.” 

You’re up in a flash, using all of your strength to push him off of the couch and onto the floor. 

“AHH!!!”

You snicker at the loud shriek Hyunjin makes. Plopping your bum on the couch, you shoot your fake boyfriend a petty stare as you reach for a cookie and, very slowly, take a huge bite.

Holy shit. You’ve never tasted a cookie so good before. The way the gooey, melty goodness dances in your mouth is so addictive, you barely notice Hyunjin giving you a death glare from the floor.

“What?” you say with your mouth full, reaching for the remote.

“That’s supposed to be our batch,” he sneers nasally, as if he’s Squidward himself. You try not to spit out the food in your mouth.

“Not anymore.” You point the remote at the TV and hit ‘play’. “You can get the next batch.”

three.

– november 10th.

“Can we let go for a bit?” you mumble, causing Hyunjin to look at you. “My hand is getting sweaty.” 

“Oh, sorry,” Hyjnjin gasps, looking down at your hands. He lets go and rubs his palm against his jeans to wipe off the stickiness that has formed.

“Why are we holding hands so early, anyway?” you ask. “I know we’re telling the guys we’re ‘dating’ today, but they’re not even here yet.” 

Hyunjin blinks at you, takes your hand again, and entwines your fingers. “Because we have to make it look believable from a distance.” 

You try not to laugh. “You think they’ll even notice if we’re holding hands?”

He shrugs, locking eyes with the student worker that’s staring in your general direction. He attempts to follow their gaze. It seems like they’re looking at his and your hands. They could also just be waiting for the microwave oven to ding so they can serve someone their bagel. You never know, though.

“I mean,” he gestures to the cafe worker, “if that person notices, then our friends probably will.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I don’t think that person cares.”

“For Hyunjin?” another cafe worker calls.

With your hand still in his, Hyunjin gently pulls you with him to pick up a freshly-made sandwich for you, and bagel for him. He mumbles a ‘thank you’ before grabbing some napkins and heading for the seating area, scooting past students to the table for four he set his backpack on to call dibs. When the college cafe is always packed for lunch, claiming a table was more than necessary.

Hyunjin presses a finger to his chin as he thinks of where to sit, which chair will allow him optimal coupley vibes. After a moment of contemplation, he chooses one of the seats right by the window.

This prompts you to move to the one opposite of him. But before you can sit down, Hyunjin reaches across the table to grab your wrist.

“No! Sit on this side,” he says, gently tugging your arm.

“Why?”

“I told you, we have to make it believable! Remember?”

It’s a perfect plan. If Hyunjin acts as utterly sappy as possible, his and your friends will surely fall for it. What better way to scream ‘lovesick college couple’ than to sit on the same side of the table together? 

Also, how do you hold hands with someone who’s sitting across from you? Spoiler: you don’t.

But for now, you both eat. You plop down on the chair next to Hyunjin, albeit begrudgingly at first, and you end up finishing your sandwich fairly quickly. Hyunjin, however, takes his time. Not because he’s not hungry—he’s starving. But having half a bagel to work his way through is good in case things get awkward later on.

See? Perfect.

Soon enough, Hyunjin catches two familiar heads enter the cafe. He reaches for your hand under the table, lacing his fingers with yours when you take his hand with a sigh. He even considers subtly scooting his chair over to be even closer to you. Something in the dark crevices of his mind keeps begging him to do it. He’s not even sure why, but he scolds at that voice to wait a moment.

His eyes carefully follow Changbin and Jisung as they get out of line. They both wave at him, and he awkwardly waves back before they turn to each other.

After what feels like an eternity, Changbin steps up to the counter to grab two bagels. Then he follows Jisung to your table.

“What’s up, sweetcheeks?” Jisung says.

Hyunjin glances at you and when you look back, you make an expression as if to tell him ‘go on then’. Hyunjin however, decides against that, turning his attention back to the two boys sitting across from them. 

Changbin’s already stuck half of the bagel in his mouth to the point he’s struggling to chew. It’s disgusting, but for some reason it keeps Hyunjin in a trance. When that trance is broken by you swiftly jabbing him in the rib, he winces, glares at you, and looks back over the table. 

“About that,” Hyunjin laughs awkwardly. If he wasn’t already holding your hand, he would have gone for it to try and calm his nerves. 

“What is it?” Jisung asks, ripping a piece of his bagel off and chucking it into his mouth. “You two finally shacking up?” 

Hyunjin sits there stunned, only listening as you groan in disgust. 

“What is wrong with you?” you say.

Jisung smiles and sends a wink to you before leaning back in his seat. “It’s just my talent, baby.” 

Hyunjin keeps his eyes locked on his bag. This is fake, he repeats in his mind after the word ‘baby’ is uttered from Jisung’s lips. Why does it bother him so much? It shouldn’t bother him—it never has before. This isn’t real. It’s just a simple word Jisung has used to refer to literally everyone in your friend group. Hyunjin’s heard worse come from the boy’s mouth. ‘Sweetcheeks’, ‘’bubby wubby’, schmoopy poopy poo’... all Jisung said this time was ‘baby.’

This is fake.

Hyunjin feels you squeeze his hand. He squeezes it back as he finally looks up. You’re looking at him with your eyebrows furrowed, silently asking him what’s wrong.

This isn’t real…

Now his heart burns. He decides to blame it on too much cream cheese on his bagel. 

“What did you want to tell us?” Changbin tries to say as he gulps down his bagel before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Hyunjin glances over at you, and then back to his friends. He raises your enjoined hands. 

“So… we’re dating!” 

Changbin nearly chokes on his bagel at Hyunjin’s words. He looks up slowly, following your and Hyunjin’s arms up to where your hands meet, and he nods once. “Oh. Well, damn.”

Jisung, on the other hand, takes a moment longer to process the news. But when he does, his jaw slowly drops and he takes in a sharp breath. “Oh. My. GO—”

“Yah, shut up!” Hyunjin leans over across the table to slap a hand over Jisung’s mouth.

“…God,” the younger boy finishes his sentence quietly, his voice muffled.

Hyunjin maintains his stare at the younger boy as he slowly begins to pull back. No more screaming, he begs. He’s had enough of it for the rest of the year.

A tension hangs in the air around the four of them. Changbin goes back to carelessly munching on his bagel, and Jisung is gazing at Hyunjin and you, his very fake girlfriend, with an almost-maniacal smile.

“Soooo…” Jisung starts after a minute. Hyunjin can literally feel him gleefully kicking his legs under the table. “Who confessed first?”

Hyunjin pales at the question. He forgot to go over a cover story with you.

Luckily, before he can struggle to give an answer, Changbin swoops in and unknowingly buys him some time.

“Why are you the one who’s happy?” he questions. “I’m the one who won the bet!”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen. “You guys bet on us?!”

“We all did,” Changbin says. “Now Jisung owes half our group ten dollars each.”

“Wait, but we still don’t know who confessed first!” Jisung says.

“Why is that important?” Hyunjin says.

“‘Cause it was part of the bet, too!” 

Hyunjin stills again and looks at you helplessly. He squeezes your hand as if to signal that he needs you to come up with something, and fast. Something about how he had the most magical confession to end all confessions during the first snow that didn’t even happen yet this year.

“I-It was me,” you finally say.

Hyunjin has to stop himself from looking at you in surprise.

Jisung gasps loudly again. He’s so wholly entranced, Hyunjin doesn’t know how lucky he should consider himself for it. “Really?” 

Hyunjin watches as you clear your throat before nodding. You smile in a way that he swears he’s never seen before. You tilt your head and break your eye contact with Jisung to look over at him, then you look back at Jisung. 

“You expect him to confess?” You giggle lightly, gesturing to Hyunjin. “All he talks about is how he wants someone to confess to him.”

The two boys across from them are just nodding in agreement. That is true, Hyunjin thinks. He’s probably been talking about that since he started college, maybe even before. He can’t really describe the feelings that come from somebody confessing their feelings to you. 

“And…” you continue, “after the failed confession with Jisoo, I realised I should take it as a sign to confess.” 

You’re smiling to yourself as you shrug your shoulders, keeping your eyes down on the table. Hyunjin has never seen you act—and act this well. Jisung and Changbin are totally hooked, nodding along to everything you’re saying. They’re like two little children listening to a bedtime story doing everything they can to stay awake. You’ve got them wrapped around your pinky finger.

Hyunjin’s gaze focuses on your hand in his. He brings them to his lap and begins to play with your fingers, letting your words between the boys fade into the background. His mind is still lingering around the thoughts of Jisoo and the failed confession. 

He still isn’t completely sure what happened there. Why his crush, whom he was sure he was in love with, faded so quickly and so suddenly. He never thought falling out of like—or love—with someone could be that easy… but if he thought about it too much, he’d probably worry about the possibility of love. He decides that’s not a thought for now. 

“Woah,” Jisung says, his mouth hanging open. “That’s crazy.”

“That means you owe us another five dollars, genius,” Changbin says.

Jisung quickly turns to Changbin. “Let me grieve for my wallet first!” Hyunjin watches as Jisung rests his head in his hands in despair. 

“Why would you even bet on Hyunjin confessing first?” You can’t help but laugh. “You set yourself up for failure.” 

“Because maybe I had faith in him!!” Jisung exclaims, looking up at you. “I thought he’d have it in him!”

You glance at Hyunjin, smile sheepishly, and look back at the two boys that sit across the table from you.

“Well you should have known him better.”

“Ooookay,” Hyunjin says, suddenly moving to stand. “We, um, we gotta get going.” He turns to you, hoping you get the message. “Right, Y/N?”

You nod quickly and stand up too. “Yeah, we were gonna have a study date together,” you say as you gather your things.

“Okay, have fun,” Changbin says coolly.

“But we were just getting started!” Jisung counters.

Hyunjin lets out a sigh. “We’ll tell you guys everything tomorrow, okay?”

Jisung’s eyes narrow and he raises an eyebrow. The way he’s staring Hyunjin down is making him want to shrink up and hide. 

After a moment of awkwardness on Hyunjin’s part, Jisung opens his mouth to speak. 

“Tell us everything?” 

“Define ‘everything’, Ji,” you respond before Hyunjin has the chance to. 

“Everything means everything,” Jisung drawls out. “Like, come on guys, give us the details! The nitty gritty of it all!” He’s now leaning over the table as he pleads. “I just wanna know all about my two best friends’ relationship! Is that so weird?!” 

You share a look with Hyunjin. You’re giggling, rolling your eyes as you look back over at the boy. “Find your own girlfriend, Ji, don’t live through our relationship.” 

Jisung huffs, falling back into his chair with his arms crossed. “You guys are no fun.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” you say, and you both wave at the two boys. Changbin happily responds and Jisung, still grumpy, begrudgingly waves back. 

Luckily, this seems to be enough for you and Hyunjin to leave. Hyunjin swings your hands lightly, fingers still entwined, as the cafe door shuts behind you with a small squeak. 

There is no study date. There wasn’t really any regular ‘date’ planned—not unless the confessing? lying? to your friends counts. 

Regardless, you and Hyunjin look at each other and silently agree. You both deserve a sweet treat after that.

four.

– november 17th.

You wouldn’t dare tell Hyunjin, but once he told you about his “fantastical Friday date idea” earlier this afternoon, you’ve been feeling like a bottle of Coke about to explode.

Sure, he’s been a little crazy about hitting all the stereotypical Christmas romance activities, but this is ice skating! It’s fun and it’s romantic enough to scratch Hyunjin’s itch, but not too romantic. You’re only fake-boyfriend and fake-girlfriend, after all.

“Y/N?”

Hyunjin waves a hand in front of your face, bringing you out of your daze. You must have been staring at the fake icicles for too long.

“Huh? Yeah?” you say, blinking a few times.

He holds up two pairs of rental ice skates, one for you and one for him. “I already paid, let’s go put these on.”

You wander over to the benches where other skaters are lacing up. They make it look so effortless, but you and Hyunjin keep getting your fingers tangled in the long laces. And every time you attempt to stand up, your ankles feel so wobbly that you have to sit back down and tighten them. 

Eventually, your skates feel secure enough that you don’t wobble too much when you do make it to your feet. You look over at Hyunjin, who doesn’t look like he’s faring any better than you. 

“Do you think you can get up?” you ask. You’re starting to figure out how to balance, but you hold on to the edge of a table just in case.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin hums confidently. However, the deer-in-headlights look on his face as he slowly lifts his bum off the bench says otherwise. You’d laugh at him more than you already are if you didn’t do the same.

“Are you sure you can get up?”

“Totally!”

As if to prove you wrong, Hyunjin slowly begins to stand up. When he’s upright, he lifts one hand off the bench, then the other. Then he slowly shuffles one foot after the other in the direction of the rink, until he loses balance and nearly falls into the splits.

You try not to snort at his cry that echoes throughout the rink. Of course, you do the same as you try to follow him and your dear best friend returns the favour.

“HAH! Karma!” Hyunjin points and laughs at you before slipping and falling on his back.

“Hyunjin!” you exclaim, shuffling over to help him up.

“I’m fine!” he tries to reassure you once he’s upright again. He reaches for your hand as he waddles his way to the rink, this time successfully, and with you in tow.

You let out the breath you’re holding once your other hand finds the edge of the wall. Maybe you came into the rink too cocky, or maybe the old couple doing laps around you and Hyunjin made this look easy.

After you recenter yourself—well, after trying to—you look at Hyunjin, who has a death grip on your hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yep!” The boy smiles. “Very fine!” He slowly lets go of your hand, attempting to get away from the wall. He’s successful for a few seconds, then he finds himself wobbling again and he quickly grabs onto your arm.

Giggling, you try to shake him off. “Hyun, you’re gonna make me fall, too!”

He doesn’t respond for a beat. When you turn to look back at him, his legs are shaking, but he’s got a stupid smirk plastered on his face. Even when he’s visibly struggling, of course he has to do this.

“Oh, am I?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, fuck off.”

You try to free your hand again. Somehow, his grip gets even tighter, and he manages to slide his hand down your arm and thread his fingers with yours.

“You’re gonna be wishing you’re holding my hand soon enough,” Hyunjin muses.

“Whatever you say, fake boyfriend,” you sigh sarcastically.

The old couple passes you by again; they seem to be out-skating every couple on the ice by this point. As they go in circles together, they show off their best disco moves as if they were on roller skates instead. The old man, as he swings past you two a second time, makes a heart with his hands behind the old woman, pumping it in the air to the beat of “Mistletoe” by Justin Bieber as his wife continues to dance.

You don’t look back at Hyunjin, but you can imagine the stars in his eyes as he watches them. Instead, you pay attention to the way they move their feet. Push out with your right foot, then with your left. Right, left, right, left. With Hyunjin still gripping on tightly to your hand, you attempt to copy it.

“H-Hey!” Hyunjin squeaks from behind you. “What are you doing?!”

“Trying to get off the wall!” you say. You turn your head to look at him briefly. “You want to be a cute fake couple like those two,” you gesture to the old couple, “right?”

He stumbles over a ‘maybe’, but there’s no denying the way he wistfully watches the old man carefully spin the old woman.

You smile fondly. “Then come on. Watch how they move and try to do the same.”

It takes several laps and several more minutes to get into a rhythm. You can’t say that you’re gliding across the ice, but you’re holding your own without clinging to the wall. Barely. Hyunjin, on the other hand, suddenly seems like a natural. His graceful strides make you question if he was feigning clumsiness half an hour ago, or if he was just that good.

You try to catch up to him as you both make a turn and he looks back to check on you. He smiles at you and holds up a peace sign, flashing you a wink—and you freeze. You were already using all your brainpower to remember to keep moving your feet, and just like that, you forget everything you’re doing.

By the time you snap out of your daze, you’re about to crash into Hyunjin. You yelp, flailing as you try to brake. Hyunjin tries to catch you before you fall flat on your face, but you end up pulling him down with you and falling backwards.

Then you realise the position you’re both in. You’re on your back, and Hyunjin is half on top of you. You’re trying to catch your breath, but the way he tries to prop himself up with his elbows somehow sucks the air out of your lungs all over again.

“Hyun, slow down,” you say as he almost slips again. You catch his arms in yours and lose your breath for a third time. “One foot at a time, okay?”

You swear Hyunjin spaces out as you speak—there’s a gleam in his eyes you can’t quite place. But the gleam goes away just as quickly as it came, and he begins to regain his balance enough to stand up.

He holds out his hands for you and you grab on. He then slowly pulls, allowing you to find a way to get up with a pair of blades on your feet.

When you’re nearly upright, you take a wrong step and feel yourself flying backwards. You flail your arms as you try to prepare to land, but you feel Hyunjin’s arm wrap around your waist and pull you in just in time.

For a second, you feel like you’re in a cheesy Disney movie. The moment happened so fast, but feels so slow in hindsight. Now you’re here, your jaw dropped open in surprise, as your hands find their way to Hyunjin’s shoulders. Is this how Cinderella or something felt—

Wait, what the fuck?

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin says. His eyes search yours for any sign of hurt.

You take a beat to respond, nodding rapidly. “Y-Yeah, I’m okay.”

Hyunjin nods once. “Oookay. Do you wanna keep going?”

Right there, you contemplate just packing up and going back to your dorm. Even though the only one staring at you is Hyunjin, it feels like a thousand pairs of eyes are boring into your soul.

However, something in your heart, or maybe your brain, begs you to stay. So you nod.

five.

– november 20th.

Hyunjin stands and leans against the stairrail by the front of the university library. He’s too busy fiddling with his perfectly curated Christmas playlist, fall in love with me (this christmas), to even notice you pull up in your car. So when you honk the horn, he yelps and falls on his butt, then down a couple stairs, before sending daggers your way.

He watches as your passenger side window rolls down slowly and your shit-eating grin becomes clear from behind it. 

“You ready to go?” you ask.

Hyunjin, still glaring at you, slowly nods his head in response. 

“Then get off your ass!” you say. “You’re the one that wanted to go to this!”

He gets up with a dramatic huff and drags himself to the passenger seat of the car. The second he hops in, he leans forward and grabs your aux cord, plugging it into his phone and unlocks his phone, once again showing the Christmas playlist.

Meanwhile, you watch him in amusement. “You want aux?”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes at your sarcasm. But he answers regardless, too excited about the idea of a Christmas tree farm date. Another thing from his bucket list of Christmas dates to check off.

“Of course I want aux!” 

Clicking shuffle, he cheers to himself when the mystical violin intro of “Christmas Tree Farm" by Taylor Swift begins to play. Clicking twice to make the song repeat, he locks his phone before placing it in one of the free cup holders. 

“This is perfect!” He claps to himself, swaying the best he can to the music as he fastens his seat belt. “🎶And I’m somewhere else… just like magic… 🎶”  he sings along.

He looks over at you and you’re watching him again. This time he can’t tell if it’s in amusement or bafflement. “Can we go now?” 

Hyunjin nods, leaning back into his seat with a content smile. “You could’ve started when I got into the car.”

He lets his gaze linger on you for a second. When you look at him, he quickly looks away. Maybe he’s too impatient, but when he looks back at you a moment later to see if you have finally turned your focus to the road in front of you, you’re still staring right at him.

His cheeks begin to feel warm. Your gaze is practically peering into his soul, and you have your heater on full blast—it feels like a sauna in here. It’s not his fault you get cold so easily. It’s also not his fault a little voice in his head is telling him to use it as an excuse to be near you…

No. Bad Hyunjin.

He quickly shoves the thought away into a neat little box, something future Hyunjin will have to deal with. Right now, all present-day Hyunjin cares about is Miss Swift playing through the speakers.

And so he starts humming, which soon turns to quiet singing. Soon enough, the quiet singing soon turns into full-blown yelling of the lyrics. He’s here for the vibe, and the vibe is immaculate. 

“🎶AND YOU WOULD BE THERE TOOOO~!!🎶”

Good Hyunjin!

“Hyun, shut up! I can’t see the road!” you shout, your voice carrying over the music.

Hyunjin throws his head back in feigned agony. “Okayyy, okay!” he groans before bringing it down to quiet singing for the rest of the song.

When the music fades out, it’s silent for a moment. Hyunjin feels his cheeks hurt from how much he’s smiling. When it starts again, he bounces in his seat.

“Again?” you question, bringing his attention back to you. “Can’t we go to the next song?” 

He gasps and shakes his head. “Nuh-uh! It’s for the vibe, Y/N!” He nods slowly to emphasise his point. “The vibe!” 

You nod, your face full of confusion. “And the vibe is…?”

“That we’re literally going to a Christmas tree farm! Do you know how exciting that is?!” Hyunjin turns right to you as you pull up to a stop sign. He almost gets lost in your eyes when you look back at him. “It’s one of the key Christmas dates in the movies! And there’s a whole song about it!” He lets himself ramble on for a minute, trying not to get too lost in his fantasies. Despite his efforts, he soon feels himself about to spiral…

Then you look away.

Hyunjin lets out a sigh as he glances over at you. You’re focused on the road, your eyes flickering around as you wait for a good time to merge lanes. He knows that you only looked away to continue driving, but deep down, he fears that he pushed you away with his babbling.

He just looks down at his lap before he speaks, his voice trembling slightly. “Look, I… I know you hate Christmas, but—” 

“I don’t hate Christmas…” 

Hyunjin is surprised he can hear you with how quietly you’re talking.

“I…” You sigh. “I just don’t understand why you’re so obsessed with this ‘Christmas romance’ thing. Like, what makes it more special than a romance-romance?” 

“Because…” He takes a breath before releasing it. “Christmas is magical.” 

The song ends. He reaches for his phone and his finger hovers over the pause button.

“Hyunnie, you don’t need to stop the—”

He stops the music, ignoring the sigh you let out when you do.

“It’s just…” he starts, then trails off. “I…”

A beat of silence.

“You…?”

Hyunjin looks at you, trying to read your reaction. It’s hard to tell if your furrowed brow is from concentration or confusion.

“Like…” he starts again, then he sighs.

How would he even begin to explain that the warm, fuzzy feeling he gets from Christmas, is one he’s only ever experienced secondhand? How is he supposed to tell you that he hopelessly projects onto an array of chiselled brunet men in cheesy holiday movies without sounding insane? That he dreams of taking walks in the snow and under the Christmas lights and in Christmas tree farms with someone, like all the male leads on the Hallmark channel seem to do? Will it seem naive? Or childish?

At the same time, though, if all these ordinary guys can find love without even trying… who’s to say he can’t, too?

“It’s… like… why wouldn’t you want that, you know?”

But of course, Hyunjin’s feelings are so grand that he can’t find the words to explain it.

You let out a sigh again, a more sympathetic one this time. “I… I guess? I…”

Hyunjin watches you carefully as you find your words. He realises, a few moments later, that he’s holding his breath. Why is he holding his breath? It’s as if this is a big deal. But it’s not. It’s just you.

You shrug, and something in him twists. “I– I don’t know. I just… I can’t see it for myself.”

A thick silence hangs in the air. It seems to taunt Hyunjin, pointing and laughing at him like the playground bully for even daring to open his mouth. He bites his tongue for another moment or two, thinking of a way to lessen the tension. But after that, he can’t bear the silence anymore. 

The song begins again. Maybe he was right to feel like a child.

…

By the time you park, the mood inside the car is much colder than the weather outside it. Hyunjin shuts the door behind him and lets it slam, even though he knows you’ll be annoyed about it. He shoves his hands inside his jacket pockets and hides himself the best he can in the collar of his coat. 

In a moment, you’re next to him. Your own hands in your pockets as you silently glaze over the mass of trees that seem to go on for miles. You both stand there for an uncertain amount of time, just utterly blown away by the amount of Christmas trees.

In the corner of his eye, Hyunjin notices you hold out your hand in front of him and leave it there. He stares at it wordlessly, and after a moment or two of nothing, you make grabby hand motions at him like a small child.

“What?” he questions quietly. When he finally looks over at you, you’re too busy staring at the lights beyond the entrance to look back.

“Just come on. We’ve got a date to enjoy…” You pause and take a breath.  “Boyfriend.”

A breath hitches in the back of his throat. You merely mumbled that last word, but Hyunjin heard it loud and clear. You begin to bring your hand closer to his again, motioning silently for him to take it, and he mentally curses at himself for how quickly his lips twitch up into a small smile.

Slowly, he reaches over and takes your hand in his, linking your fingers together. He uses every fibre of his being not to beam like an idiot.

“Where do we start?” you say, not really aiming the question at anyone.

Hyunjin shrugs. “I mean, we can start with the Christmas trees…”

His comment earns a chuckle from you, then a light punch to the arm. It’s a pity chuckle, but he’ll take what he can get. “No shit.”

Chuckling too, he gently tugs at your hand. “Come on, the Christmas tree farm awaits.”

Hyunjin squeezes your hand lightly as he leads you to the counter. He slips a five-dollar bill in the donation jar before walking in the farm with you. The golden lights of the welcome arch surround him with warmth, just like the feeling of your hand in his, as he makes a beeline for the rows of Christmas trees.

To Hyunjin, you seem content with him guiding you around all of the large Christmas trees, even when he takes longer than necessary to take in the waft of fresh pine coming from a few of them. He tries to hold back at first, but eventually he stops at a tree and comments on how much prettier it would look with a string of colourful lights and candy canes lining its needles. Then you two stop at the next tree, and he babbles about how fun it would be to have a real tree one year.

He’s sure he has stars in his eyes much brighter than the one he’d put on top of a real Christmas tree. And he’s lucky that it’s just you with him and you allow him to ramble on, nodding along as he does so. Every once in a while, he looks at you for your reaction to something he said, and he catches the small smile on your face. Whether it’s at him or the children who chase each other through the gaps between the trees, he doesn’t care. He’s just happy that you’re happy, and indulging in his silly fantasies.

There’s a relaxing aura about being at a Christmas tree farm that Hyunjin never expected. Well, maybe he should’ve expected this from the movies he’s watched, but experiencing the warm atmosphere himself is different than seeing it on a screen. The trees around you two seem to lift the tension from the car off your shoulders. He feels lighter, more at peace. And, more importantly, so do you.

The sun has dipped below the horizon, making way for strings of lights towards the centre of the farm. Lines of a purple hue dip upward to a point that stands taller than all the pine trees that seem to go on for miles. Maybe there’s something there that Hyunjin missed.

The light glow catches your attention, too, and you start walking closer to it, keeping a hold on his hand. You two weave through the rows of Christmas trees until you happen to pass the last row, and you find a spectacle of sparkling lights. Lines of red and white make a tent shape and meet the purple lights at the top. Beneath them, two reindeer made of wire and golden lights greet you. They almost look like they’re cuddling under the tent of red and white—something about it makes Hyunjin’s heart sing.

“Wow…” he whispers to himself.

And somehow, without realising it, words leave your lips softly. Hyunjin is so in awe of the lights, he barely notices.  “🎶Under the mistletoe…🎶”

He almost doesn’t feel your head lightly rest against his shoulder. The reindeer… why is it reminding him of you two?

“🎶Watching the fire glow…🎶”

The faint melody makes Hyunjin’s ear perk up, causing him to turn and gaze at you. You’re too immersed in the trees and the occasional giggling child running through to even notice you’re quietly singing “Christmas Tree Farm'' to yourself. 

It makes Hyunjin’s heart race just like it did back in the car. However, now, he doesn’t have the car heaters to blame his red cheeks on. He’s thankful you're too absorbed in your own little world to even notice anything going on around you. 

“🎶And telling me, ‘I love you’ …🎶”

It’s like whatever is above is blessing him, letting him in on a little secret, in the form of light snowdrops falling from the sky. They land so delicately on your hair and shoulders and there’s a little flicker in your eyes that Hyunjin can’t ignore.

Never once in his life did he think he would see the first snow with someone. But now that he is, the hopeless romantic in him is screaming at him what he should have known all along.

“🎶Just being in your arms…🎶”

There is no big realisation. There is no big freak-out. There’s nothing to unpack or be scared about when his heart swells just that little bit more than usual. As he’s looking at you—still too oblivious to notice—everything just makes sense. There is no need for perfect, there is no need for the unattainable. 

All he needs is you.

“🎶Takes me back to that little farm…🎶”

He doesn’t need to second guess himself, or try to convince himself of anything. He just knows. All the stories he was told by his parents, the ones he watched in the movies, every little fairytale that he’s held onto his whole life is true.

Maybe it’s not childish, and maybe he didn’t need to chase his fairytale moment at all.

He already has it.

“🎶Where every wish comes true…🎶” 

As you continue to mumble the lyrics to yourself, Hyunjin squeezes your hand, finally bringing your attention back to him. 

“Thank you for being here with me.” He smiles sweetly.

Your returning smile makes his heart do laps. “No, thank you.” 

He squeezes your hand again. You squeeze his back.

six.

– november 23rd.

It’s only when the mass of people leaving your class dissipates that you notice Hyunjin standing out in the hallway waiting for you. He’s leaning up against the wall, focused on his phone. When he finally looks up and sees you, his smile grows and he pockets his phone, holding a hand out to you.

You raise your eyebrow and glance at his hand for a second too long before he makes grabby hands at you. A giggle escapes your lips. “Why do you want to hold my hand so badly?” You take his hand before he can answer.

“Because my dearest and best girlfriend in the world, it’s time for another date,” he muses, skipping slightly and rocking your entwined hands in a more exaggerated fashion. 

Humming and nodding your head, you lean into him slightly. “What are we going to do?”

He shrugs. “I was thinking we go to the park close to campus? Since the snow has settled and everything, we can just walk around for a couple hours until I have to go to class.”

It’s then that you register that Hyunjin called you his girlfriend. Not his fake girlfriend, just his girlfriend. You don’t do anything to correct him right now.

Instead, you look up at him, a pout gracing your lips. “But I was going to studyyyy.”

Hyunjin just shoots you a doubtful look back. “Oh, really?”

“Uh-huh!” you whine. The professor of the class you just got out of kept hinting at a pop quiz next session—considering that you failed the last pop quiz, you really didn’t want to fail a second one.

Nodding slowly, Hyunjin still looks sceptical. “Riiiight, okay.”

“I’m serious! We’re graduating soon, I can’t flunk out now!”

Hyunjin nods again. “Okaaaay, but you have…” he counts with his fingers on his free hand, “five days until then!” He stops in the middle of the walkway, stepping in front of you and taking not one, but both your hands in his. “Come onnnn, please? It’s just one day! And it snowed! It’s the perfect day to not study!”

When you respond with a blank stare, it seems like Hyunjin is forced to take drastic measures. So he tries one more very convincing line. “I’ll make you a hot chocolate when we get home! I know how much you love hot chocolate. Pleeeease?”

Something about the way his bottom lip juts out and his eyes twinkle with hope makes you want to cup his cheeks in your hands and… punch him. Yes, exactly, punch him right in the face. Hit him where it hurts.

But alas, despite your growing urge to lovingly ki…ck him off the fifth floor of the university library, you know even that won’t stop him begging you to ditch studying. So you sigh.

“Make it with milk, not water; whipped cream and chocolate syrup on top. Don’t forget the marshmallows.” That quiz will have to wait another day, but seeing the wave of happiness and relief wash over Hyunjin’s face right before he crushes you in a hug makes it worth it.

“Deal!”

…

The park is less crowded than you thought it would be. In your experience as a college student, you thought more of you would use the snow as a way to escape the stress of upcoming deadlines. Yes, you had to be bribed with hot chocolate to be here, but still. If you know, you know.

Regardless, you’re not complaining that you and Hyunjin basically have the whole park to yourselves.

“We should sit under there,” Hyunjin says, pointing to a cedar tree. Never mind the blanket of snow covering its needles that could fall on your heads.

You look up at him, your face sour. “Is that really a good idea?”

“Oh… right,” he says sheepishly, then points to a bench several feet away from it. “How about there?”

You nod and let him drag you there, ignoring the pathways and cutting through the grass. You take it as an excuse to hear the snow crunch underneath your shoes.

As you both approach the bench, Hyunjin slowly lets go of your hand to scurry ahead of you and wipe the thin layer of snow from its surface. It earns a cry from him at how cold it is, causing you to shake your head fondly. 

“Why not get your gloves out?” you ask.

“I forgot I had them!” He plops down on the bench with a frown and pats the spot next to him. “Sit.”

You take a seat, pulling your backpack off your shoulders and onto your lap. Reaching in the front pocket, you blindly search for his and your gloves. When your fingers graze the soft fabric, you pull both pairs out and hand Hyunjin’s pair to him.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, hurrying to slip his gloves on his hands. Once you do the same, he holds his hand out to you.

You furrow your brow at him. “We just held hands earlier?”

Hyunjin pouts. “But my hands are cold.”

“Is that not what the gloves are for?”

“Y/N…” he pulls out the bottom lip and puppy dog eyes again. Oh no…

Your eyes guiltily flicker between his outstretched hand and his face. His stupid, pouty face that is making your heart feel things you don’t want to think about. God..

“It’s coooold,” Hyunjin whines. “And it’s a coupley thing to snuggle when it’s cold, right?”

Fake couple. But you don’t correct him out loud.

“Okay, okay,” you huff, taking his hand in yours. He smiles and entwines your fingers together.

You and Hyunjin sit in silence for a while hand-in-hand as you take in the serenity. Sounds of children giggling faintly ring from the other side of the small park, and the blanket of powdery snow in front of you is still fresh and untouched. You feel so at peace here, you don’t notice you’re scooting closer to Hyunjin.

Wait. You’re scooting closer to Hyunjin. And you’re leaning your head on his shoulder.

It’s because it’s cold. Yeah. Your bum is freezing and you could use the body heat of a fellow human. It’s like how penguins huddle for warmth in the winter, except you’re not in Antarctica; you’re in a quaint little park on a snowy day with your best friend—fake boyfriend.

And as a good fake boyfriend does, Hyunjin lets go of your hand in response and slips his arm around your shoulders. You feel his cheek gently rest on top of your head. You instinctively wrap an arm around his waist—instinctively? How did you know to do that? What are you doing?

Right, you’re snuggling. Snuggling like any ordinary couple would do. It doesn’t matter if you’re a fake couple; this is how you fake it till you make it, as they say. So you just stay like this for a few minutes. Hyunjin’s making for a great cuddler, anyway. Is he worried about not being as good as the guys in whatever movies he watches? He shouldn’t. Because he’s gentle and warm and sweet and now he’s kissing the top of your head.

Wait, what are you doing?

Your eyes fly wide open. You don’t move, but suddenly Hyunjin’s too warm and you feel suffocated in his arms. Now, all you can think of is any excuse to get up.

As if the universe was answering your prayers, a small tennis ball rolls by your feet. You look at the light green ball, then the dog leaping through the snow to chase it, then a kid you assume is its owner, far away but visibly out of breath. Letting go of Hyunjin, you bend down to grab the ball, running a few feet away before chucking the ball in the kid’s direction.

After watching the dog dash after the ball for a moment, you feel something cold splat against your back. You gasp in surprise and turn to see a frowning Hyunjin.

“You left me for a dog!” he whines childishly. He tries not to smile, but lets out a giggle at the end of his sentence.

You stare at him with your jaw dropped. “He’s cuter than you!”

He gasps loudly in offence and chucks another snowball at you.

“Who’s cuter now?!”

You scoop up some snow and toss it at his chest. “Still the dog!”

He gets up and runs straight for you. You squeak and run away, looping around the cedar tree close to the bench to try and slow him down. He quickly catches up with you, and you soon feel his arms wrap around you and pull you back. You let out a squeal at the move.

“You thought you could get away with that, huh?!” he says in between giggles. You’re just as giggly.

“Let me go!”

“Not until you say I’m cuter than that dog!”

He looks at you and you look up at him. He’s trying to pout at you, but you’re both laughing too much to take him seriously. But there’s something in his eyes, or maybe in his silly back-hug, that feels different… but you don’t want to think about that right now.

Instead, you smile and poke his cheek with one finger.

“Okay, fine. But only just a little.”

seven.

– december 1st.

Hyunjin feels himself buzzing from excitement as he guides you, hand-in-hand, through the busy streets of downtown. He would never admit it outright, but ever since you came up with the idea of fake Christmas dates, watching the switching on of the Christmas lights was high on his list. He’s dreamt of counting down the seconds until holiday lights illuminate the city, and has watched them alone. Just… not with someone. Not with someone who means as much to him as you do. 

He can’t tell what’s louder: his heart thumping when your hand squeezes his as you both tuck and swerve through the busy crowd, or the crowd itself. After his realisation a few weeks prior,  there’s something new and addicting about how your hand feels in his—like they were pieces of a puzzle, like they were destined to fit each other. He can’t get enough of it.  He wonders if Christmas romance movie characters feel their heart beating as fast as his when he’s around you. And he wonders if it makes your heart race just as much, if there’s even a slight possibility that you look at him the same way he’s grown to look at you. 

A slight tug on his hand pulls him out of his daze for just a moment. He looks back at you, who points excitedly at the giant Christmas tree in the heart of the plaza you two had just walked past. Smiling fondly, he follows you to get a closer look.

Hyunjin stops next to you, looking up at the huge, sparkling tree in front of you. He takes a moment to marvel at the bright lights strung across the expanse of the tree, the tinsel hanging from each branch,  and red and gold ornaments sprinkled throughout. The tree stands at such a great height, Hyunjin can barely see the shining gold star perched atop it. 

As his gaze drifts downward, across the tree again, his eyes fall on you standing by his side. In that moment, under the glittering lights bouncing off the small ornaments, Hyunjin thinks you’ve never looked prettier. You’re looking up at the tree in wonder, twinkles in your eyes as you take in the sights. You’re unaware of the way Hyunjin beholds you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen. All the glowing lights surrounding you go dim in comparison every time you smile. 

To Hyunjin, you’re the sun, and he’s just a star in your orbit, circling around you and living for every moment your warm light shines on him. Without you, his world would be cold and dark, just as it was before you came into his life. 

Eventually, he tears his eyes away from you, focusing once again on the tree. Between the strings of bulbs, he sees flashes of a future he can picture with you: your first kiss, waking up to you in the morning every day, your wedding day and carrying you over the threshold of your home when you’re back from your honeymoon. He can see it all. Three kids, two dogs, and a hamster, family vacations, their friends being honorary uncles. 

Maybe he’s getting ahead of himself, but when he’s with you, he can’t help it. You are his forever and a day. 

Every time he steals a glance at you, you’re in a world of your own. You’re so focused on looking up at the pre-hanging lights that you let him drag you along without much thought. Not that he minds much, himself. The little sparkle in your eyes as you look around in awe is utterly adorable. Not to mention that you’re willingly out with him in matching Christmas sweaters—maybe reluctantly at first, but willingly nonetheless. He never thought he’d get you to agree, but now that you did, the oversized tacky sweater somehow makes you look even cuter than he imagined.  

He can’t decide whether or not to scream to the world about how precious you are, or if he wants to wrap you up in a blanket and keep you all to himself. He thoroughly believes the world deserves to see your brightness, but at the same time, he only wants you to smile at him. He wants to be the reason you smile so wide your cheeks hurt, he wants to be the reason to laugh so hard you fall off your seat. 

Hyunjin’s focus returns to in front of him, a small content smile playing at his lips. Not because of you (mostly), but because he already knows the perfect place to watch the switch on. He’s had this planned for weeks now—another thing he will never admit.

Ever since the announcement of the light switch on came on social media a few weeks back, Hyunjin has been on a special mission. Every weekend since then, he’s sneaked off to the city to find the best spot possible to see the lights in all their glory. (He had told you that he had been helping Changbin with some stuff; whether or not you believed him was another story). Somewhere not too crowded, somewhere not too far away. Something perfect—something you deserve. 

That’s when he discovered a small cafe, its entrance hidden in a small alleyway wedged between two buildings. He was surprised at first that it was open since there were no signs on the street to indicate its existence, apart from the small menu board at the bottom of the metal staircase. 

As he guides you into the alleyway, he hears you hum in confusion. Feeling your hand tense up slightly in his, he stops and turns around. 

You’re looking at him with furrowed eyebrows, concern drawn all over your face. With a light squeeze of his hand, Hyunjin sends you a smile. 

“Do you trust me?” he says barely above a whisper, squeezing your hand once more. 

Hyunjin’s smile widens as you don’t even hesitate to nod your head at him.

“Always.” 

Before you get the chance to speak, you’re already up on the roof of the small coffee shop. It’s surprisingly empty with how busy the streets are down below. It makes Hyunjin wonder why there aren’t more people up there, not that he’s complaining.

Even though you’re both out of the crowd, Hyunjin still doesn’t let go of your hand just yet. He’s too content in the way it feels right now, and he wants to soak up every moment of it, because he doesn’t know when he’ll get the chance to again. He could play the clingy card to buy himself more time—it’s something he’s done before when he was sick, and it’s worked—but it doesn’t feel quite right this time. This was different from his usual antics somehow. It feels natural, it feels right. But at the same time, he wants to jump around and do some somersaults, much like his heart in his chest is.

He quickly hides the way his smile drops when you let go of his hand and runs over to the metal railings, gasping at the better view of the hung-up lights. 

When you turn back to him, it’s like everything has disappeared around him and all he can see is you and your smile. He forgets how to breathe, he feels faint, and he wants nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and to kiss you all over your pretty face. He can’t do that, of course, but will he do it in his dreams later that night? Probably. Most definitely. 

He almost misses it when you speak to him, your smile growing by the second. 

“This is great Hyun!” You’re bouncing in place. “How did you find this place?” 

He shrugs and looks everywhere except in your eyes to try and calm his heating cheeks. 

“Oh you know, I just stumbled upon it.”

He can’t help himself when you hold your hand out to him. “Let’s watch the lights together.” 

So he takes it, letting your warmth dance around his hand in a mix of comfort and giddiness. He’s sure you haven’t noticed the new effect you’ve had on him, too oblivious to the world around you to know when someone is falling head over heels for you. 

There’s a part of Hyunjin’s brain that tries to remind him of the deal. A reminder that all of these events are not real, just as he wanted. However, Hyunjin decides to push these thoughts down into a little box, lock them up with a lock and key, and bury it in his mind.

The countdown is like a faint blur in his ears, the chanting taking a backseat to the person right in front of him. All he can hear is your soft counting, all he can feel is his pulse racing in his fingertips.

“Five, four, three,” Hyunjin squeezes your hand.  “Two…” You squeeze it back. “One.” 

At the flip of a switch, a blaze of colourful lights brighten up the town. But to Hyunjin, even they don’t compare to the awestruck sparkle in your eyes that sets his heart aflame.

eight.

– december 7th.

Since it’s the week before finals, Hyunjin insisted this past weekend that you two have dates every day this week. One, you suggested to stop the dates so you could study and he said no. That’s an understatement, actually—he practically got on his knees and begged you not to do that. Like, shook-you-by-the-shoulders, one-step-away-from-giving-up-his-americano begged.

It’s funnier now that it’s over, but you’ve never seen him more desperate for anything. Weird. Maybe he ate too many of Felix’s brownies that day.

When Hyunjin arrives at your dorm for your daily date today, the first thing he tells you is, and you quote, “Sit your ass down and wait until I finish setting up.” So, not wanting to deal with his whining today, you do exactly as you’re told for once.

You let yourself sink into your couch as your eyes lazily follow Hyunjin around. He goes in and out of your kitchen, places his laptop on the coffee table in front of you, and opens it. The screen lights up, prompting him to input his password, but instead of doing so, he heads straight back into the kitchen without a word. 

Huffing silently, you lean forward and type in his password: the month and day of both of your birthdays. It takes a second, but when the screen loads into an already-opened, paused, full-screen video of a fireplace, you furrow your brows.

“Hyun? What's this?” you call out to him. 

Almost instantly, you hear him groan in response. Then he appears at the kitchen door and stares at you with his arms crossed. “I told you to sit down.”

“Oops?” You smile at him sheepishly. “I’m a rule-breaker.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes before disappearing back into the kitchen. “A freak is what you are,” he grumbles.

You gasp. “HEY! I HEARD THAT!”

“THAT’S THE POINT!” he yells back from the kitchen.

Getting up from your seat, you make your way over to the kitchen, shivering slightly from the light chill in the air. You stay at the doorway, not wanting to sacrifice your feet to the cold tiles of your kitchen floor. Your eyes land on Hyunjin’s frame faster than you’d like to admit, and he’s standing over two mugs as he places  tiny marshmallows into each of them. 

“I thought I said sit down,” he says, not looking in your direction. You don’t want to know how he knows you’re there; you didn’t even move from the doorway. Maybe he saw you staring, maybe he just knows you that well… you hope it’s the second one.

“I couldn’t sit still,” you huff, bringing your arms across your chest. 

He picks up the two mugs, takes a few steps towards you, and gestures to them with his head. 

“Take these,” Hyunjin says as he hands them over. “Go sit back down, I’ll get some blankets.” 

“M’kay.” Your voice comes out higher than usual. Praying he doesn’t notice, you quickly cover it up with a cough. “I mean, yep. Mhm.”

You hold your breath as you shuffle back over to the couch, exhaling deeply as you place the two mugs on the coffee table next to Hyunjin’s laptop. It’s when you sit down that you notice the whipped cream and drizzle of chocolate syrup he added to top both of your drinks. As your gaze follows the steam lightly swirling out of the mugs, you can’t help but smile. He remembered your favourite.

Not even a minute later, he’s back, your duvet in his arms. Before you can ask why, he throws it down on top of you. 

“ACK!” you shriek. “I thought—” you attempt to speak as you wrestle your way out the duvet, “you were getting blankets!” 

“I got a blanket, didn’t I?” 

“But why the big one?!”

You feel the couch dip as Hyunjin sits down beside you. He helps free you from the duvet before he straightens it out, waving it once and letting it drape down across your laps. 

“So we can do this.” 

You just keep your eyes down on the duvet for a moment. It’s more than enough to cover both your and his legs, which you guess a throw blanket wouldn’t have been able to accomplish.

When you finally look up, though, Hyunjin is smiling at you tenderly. You catch yourself holding your breath again as his soft gaze finds yours. For a second, the brown hue in his eyes reminds you of the chocolate drizzle in your hot chocolate—comforting, sweet—maybe too sweet for some, but just the right amount for you. Has the brown in his eyes always sparkled like it is now?

Wait… what are you doing?

“Oh, u-um…” You blink a few times to try to bring yourself back down to earth. “Then this works, thanks, Hyun.” You take a mug from Hyunjin when he hands one over to you. “So what exactly are we doing?”

“We’re going to cuddle and drink hot cocoa by the fireplace,” Hyunjin hums, nodding proudly before taking a long sip of his drink.

You take a second to process his words, then you glance at Hyunjin’s laptop screen. “But that’s YouTube?” 

He turns to look at you and blinks. If you could reverse time, this would be the perfect time to do it. 

“Well, I know that, but we don’t have a fireplace.” He sighs. “This is the best we got.” 

He leans over, clicks ‘play’ on the video, and the delicate crackling of fire emanating from his laptop begins to fill the room. Maybe it’s not a real fireplace, but the heat you’re feeling from him sitting so close and the comforting sounds make you feel plenty warm.

Hyunjin settles back into his spot on the couch, picking up his mug with one hand. You lift up your mug, too, and softly clink it with his, taking a sip together as well. You’re so engrossed in the sweet, creamy drink melting in your mouth, that you don’t notice Hyunjin has casually slipped his arm around your shoulders until another few sips later. You lean your head against him and do nothing to shake his arm off, even though a tiny part of your brain screams at you to make it stop.

You’ve lost track of how much time has passed, but when the hot chocolates are finished, the crackling has faded into the background and the sound of Hyunjin’s faint snoring fills your ears. It’s enough time and space to let your brain wander. Iit wanders to the way Hyunjin’s cologne is a constant in your life, the way you always know where he is and where he’s been. It wanders to how every piece of clothing you own, and your whole life, is in some way infused with the essence of Hyunjin. 

Moving your head ever-so-slightly so you don’t wake him, you let your eyes gaze at the blond-headed boy for a moment too long. You can’t understand why he tries so hard to chase after perfection, when that’s already what he is. The way his eyelashes lay across his cheeks and the way his nose scrunches up at something in his dream—you can’t help but smile at the boy who has you wrapped up in his arms. 

It made you wonder when the feeling of his arms around you began to feel different. Hyunjin is Hyunjin, your best friend and nothing more than that. This fake dating thing is just that—fake. It’s a made-up relationship, a scheme to give Hyunjin what he’s always wanted: a college Christmas romance. One that started to feel a little too real to you.

There shouldn’t be feelings involved when it comes to fake dating. Everyone knows that. You can count all the romcoms you’ve ever seen on only one hand, but even you know that rule. But the way Hyunjin hugs you tighter in his sleep causes not only your heart, but your head to race as well. You’re suddenly too warm, the laptop is too loud, and you feel like the weight of the world has just fallen on your shoulders. 

Your breathing begins to pick up, but you’re pulled back out of it when you feel Hyunjin move beside you. Your eyes find his half-opened ones; he looks like he could fall back asleep at any moment. 

“Are you okay?” he mumbles before letting out a yawn, his arms still secure around you. 

You hum, pretty much shoving your head into his chest, your eyes focused on his laptop. “I’m okay, Hyunnie.” 

Luckily, the sleepy Hyunjin doesn't question it. He just pulls you closer and places a kiss on your hairline, sending your mind into another spiral. 

“Just take a nap.” You feel him yawn again. “Just enjoy this time.” 

When Hyunjin’s snore fills your ears once more, you let out a breath and do your best to blink away the tears swelling up in your eyes. 

This was a big realisation for your brain to handle on a Tuesday night. And you're not sure what to do about it apart from what you do best—ignore it and hope it goes away. 

nine.

– december 14th.

Before anyone can even say anything, Hyunjin knows he should be focusing on his art theory class. However, as he’s laying down across his desk with his head resting on his arm, he can’t help but stare at his phone in despair. 

It had been seven days—one week—since the magical movie night at your dorm. Since then, all of his messages had gone unresponded—actually, you responded exactly one time: the morning after when Hyunjin had asked about getting breakfast. You were busy. 

He mindlessly unlocks his phone, opening his message chain with you. Still no response or even a ‘read’ alert from you at the bottom. Deep down, he knows you haven’t even clicked on his messages if there is no ‘read’ alert, just like how his fridge won’t magically fill up with food if he doesn’t restock it… unless you turned read receipts off entirely, but that’s too much effort for you to do. 

He lost count of how many times he told you in high school to turn it off when you were in fights with your friends. You’d keep opening their messages and the fights would only continue when they saw you were ignoring them. You always brushed him off saying that there was no point, that they’d still know anyway. 

But here he is, staring at his phone, wishing for something, anything from you. At this point, he would take a ‘read at 3:25pm’ over the vacancy his inbox seems to taunt him with.

He only realises that class is over when the mass of people in the lecture hall scramble around him to leave. Hyunjin picks up his head from his table and sits there a moment longer. 

The other students make a beeline for the door, the professor glances at Hyunjin still sitting there and shakes their head, before following the students out the semi-open door, closing it behind them. Even with everyone’s presence in the room gone, it still feels just as empty as it did twenty minutes before. 

His phone lights up and a little bit of joy enters his heart, only for it to be smashed into pieces when the words become clear. 

Binnie : YO !! 

Binnie : free to get lunch or you with y/n? 

Hyunjin responds with a simple ‘i’m free.’ He locks his phone and shoves it into his pocket before throwing his messenger bag over his shoulder, dragging himself out of the lecture hall to wherever Changbin and the gang are. 

…

Hyunjin can hear them before he sees them. 

Jisung’s incessant screams and Changbin’s laughter are both way too loud for Hyunjin to put up with in that moment. But still, he wonders, following the sounds as they grow closer and closer and the two clowns (said with affection) become clear. 

Jisung’s too busy running around the picnic table, screaming about something with Changbin laughing so hard he has tears streaming down his face. Next to him is a silent-as-ever Chan, watching in amusement with a dopey smile present on his lips. 

It goes silent when Hyunjin drops his bag with a thud on the table. It makes him wince and the stares from three of his friends makes him wish the world would swallow him whole. It’s still silent when he throws one leg over the bench and sits himself down, bringing the other leg in before using his bag as a pillow.

Three, two, one… he thinks.

“What’s up with you?”

There it is. Hyunjin ignores the question as he tries to push his head further into his bag.

“Hyun?” Chan’s voice is softer than the other two boys. Whilst he knows the other two mean well, it’s a lot more comforting when it’s coming from Chan. “Are you okay?” 

It takes all of his strength to pick his head up off of the table and look at the eldest of the four boys. Hyunjin feels as if his default look is to frown and when the other two boys clock on, Jisung is sat down next to him in a flash. 

“Bro,” Changbin starts. “You look as if your mum told you you’d never see Kkami again.” 

This clown (again said with affection) really did not have the slightest indication of how to comfort someone. There was something unique about Changbin, he had heart, but brains? That and reading the room wasn’t always his strong suit. 

“I think what he means is,” Chan rephrases, “you look really down in the dumps. What’s up, buddy?” There he goes, talking as if he’s seventy when he’s barely twenty-six.

“Y/N hasn’t spoken to me in a week…” Hyunjin mumbles, letting his head fall back onto his bag. “Do you think she hates me?” he asks, but to the trio it comes out more like, ‘o u inks smates me?’ 

He isn’t sure who places a hand on his back—he assumes it’s Jisung with the angle. All he knows is he can feel a cold hand just barely pressing through his hoodie. 

“Maybe she’s busy?” Jisung says, patting Hyunjin’s back lightly. “She’ll send her usual emoji update when she’s ready.” 

Hyunjin only picks up his head again so his friends can hear him. “She hasn’t even read any of my messages.” 

It’s quiet, too quiet. When he sits up to look at them and Jisung’s hand falls from his back, Hyunjin’s frown just enhances. The boys look at each other, frowns present on their own faces. Hyunjin doesn’t think they completely understand the situation. But then again, neither can he.

“What do I do?” he says. 

“She’s probably busy with exams…” Jisung blurts out, looking at the two boys sitting across from them before looking back at Hyunjin. 

“Yeah!” Changbin pipes in. “Plus her internship! That’s probably keeping her busy too, especially since it’s close to Christmas!” 

Hyunjin looks over at Chan, he’s silent like usual. He has a sad smile on his face, like he wants to say something to calm Hyunjin’s worries, but he’s just not exactly sure what those words are. 

“Thanks guys…” Hyunjin does his best to smile.

Jisung brings him in for a tight hug. Even though he normally would have, Hyunjin doesn’t try to push him away. The coos from the two other boys make his heart feel just a bit warmer. 

…

– december 15th.

Hyunjin should have called first. But with how silent you’ve been over the past eight days, he knew you wouldn’t have picked up. So here he stands, two pizza boxes in one hand as he tries to pluck up the courage to finally knock on your door after standing outside it for god knows how long. 

He wonders if you’ll smell the pizza from inside and open the door yourself so he wouldn’t have to knock. A boy can dream. 

He clenches his fist so hard it turns white. Takes a deep breath, releases it. Takes another one. He thinks about how he’ll knock on the count of three—but then procrastinates even more by thinking about if he means he’d do it on three or after three. 

In actuality, he doesn’t need to do anything when the sound of your door unlocking makes him smile slightly. He knew you’d smell the pizza. 

When the door opens up wide enough, you jump back slightly in surprise. Hyunjin can barely believe himself either. He’s actually here… in all his anxious glory.

“Hyunjin…” 

Your face visibly pales, causing Hyunjin to frown. Did you really not want to see him that badly? Over a week of nothing and this is how you react when you see him again? 

He looks down at your outfit. You’ve got your puffer coat on and your bag draped across your chest, sending the puffiness out in awkward directions. “Where are you going?” 

“I– I’ve got class,” you stutter. 

“Oh.” Hyunjin’s shoulders drop. 

He motions to the pizza boxes in his hand and smiles sheepishly. He watches how your eyes glance at them before darting off in another direction.

“I thought we could chill and have pizza, like normal,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m sorry, I forgot you had class today and…” Hyunjin pauses. He takes another deep breath as he watches you, waiting to see if you’d finally look at him. “I was just wondering if we could talk… it’s been a while you know?” 

One of your hands comes up to fiddle with the hair behind your left ear. Hyunjin takes note of how you bite at your bottom lip. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” 

Hyunjin blinks. You’re still avoiding his gaze.

“Can we at least talk quickly?” he asks. He can’t tell if he’s grateful or not when you open the door wider for him to enter. 

“Okay. Just make it quick.”

He shuffles inside, placing the pizza boxes down on the coffee table that once held his laptop as their makeshift fireplace. Turning back to you, Hyunjin now sees how your hands are shoved into your pockets. Your coat is zipped all the way up so you can hide your face in your collar. 

“Where have you been?” The question escapes his lips before he can even register it. 

He’s watching you for every single change in your body language, every little muscle movement. Anything that will clue him into what the heck is happening. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, barely above a whisper. “I’ve been busy with schoolwork, and my internship is piling more on me because Christmas is coming up.” Just like Changbin had thought. But even then, it didn’t feel enough. 

“You could have said something,” Hyunjin sighs. “Anything. Even just an emoji like you usually do when you’re cramming.” 

He’s surprised when you have nothing to say. You’re just hiding in your coat collar and he can see the distressed look on your face. Hyunjin has never felt more confused in his life, and here you are, doing nothing to help. He feels as if he’s questioning every life choice he’s made up to this point. 

“Are you okay?” he speaks again after another moment. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

Hyunjin feels like tiny needles are being pricked into his heart, and your silence is pushing them deeper. The more seconds that tick by, the more his heart crumbles in his chest.

He watches as you take a deep breath in. He watches you as you exhale. 

“About that…” You gulp and take another breath. “We should end this… we should break up.” 

Hyunjin can hear the glass house around him break into hundreds and thousands of little pieces. He’s sure that in all that rubble is his heart—pierced and splinted, bleeding out from each wound. Yet all that he can do is blink. 

“...What?”

For the first time in his life, he cannot read a single expression or feeling on your face. It’s like he’s been placed in the middle of the desert; no map, no compass, nothing. He’s lost, afraid, and so, so alone. And you’re just standing there, a mere few feet away from him, unable to even look him in the eye.

“We should stop our agreement.” You’re fiddling with the strap on your bag as if to keep your mind from spiralling or wondering. “Look, everything with class and my internship is getting busier, and you wanted Christmas dates, right?”

You gulp again. Hyunjin is just silent. He can’t even nod.

“You got what you wanted. You got the dates and to experience a Christmas romance.” You finally look him in the eye, and it’s like one final stab to his heart. “So we should end this now, so we can both focus on the things we need to.” 

You’re finally staring at each other, battling it out silently for who can keep their hold the longest. It’s torture and Hyunjin’s never felt pain like this… it pierces into his stomach so bad that he wants to throw up. 

“Hyunjin—” 

Before you can even finish your sentence, you’re cut off by the sound of the door unlocking. Your eyes widen in surprise as Yeri, your usually missing roommate, walks through the door. She has a suitcase behind her, probably back from whatever adventure she’s been on with her girlfriend. 

You seem glad to see her back in one piece, but god, did she have the worst timing. It makes Hyunjin want to scream. Why now, of all times, did she have to decide to come home? Right when Hyunjin’s in the middle of being ‘dumped’ by the person he’s in love with?

Yeri looks up in shock, takes one of her airpods out of her ear, and grins sheepishly. 

“Oh, I’m sorry…” Her eyes flicker between you and Hyunjin. She’s not sure what to make of the awkward atmosphere, but Hyunjin doesn’t blame her. “I’ll…” She motions to her bedroom door to insinuate the end of her sentence, before dragging her suitcase behind her. 

When the soft click of her door closing behind her is heard, you turn your attention back to Hyunjin. You open your mouth to speak, but before you can utter a word, he shakes his head. 

“No.” He doesn’t even let you begin. 

He wants to scream and cry out, not only in confusion, but in what Hyunjin can’t tell is anger or just pure sadness. He doesn’t, partly because he knows Yeri is within earshot, but also because he doesn’t know if he has the energy. His mind is making so many laps and leaps trying to figure out everything that he just wants to lie down.

He gasps for air. His eyes feel misty and he wants to do nothing but run. 

“I get it,” he mutters, looking away. “You can have what you want.”

Hyunjin says no more, leaving the discarded pizzas on the coffee table. He ignores the way his heart stings when you don’t call after him. He doesn’t even bother to wait for the elevator, choosing to rush down the stairs to get out of the building as fast as possible whilst wiping his cheeks haphazardly with the back of his sleeve. 

He once again wants the world to swallow him whole—or for him to sleep for the rest of the Christmas season. Because, honestly, none of it seems worth it anymore.

ten.

– december 18th.

How is it possible that three days can feel like an eternity? 

‘We should end this.’ Your voice repeats in Hyunjin’s brain in a constant loop. It torments him when he’s awake and stays to haunt him in his dreams. ‘We should break up.’ 

The first day felt like torture. All he wanted to was rant about you, to you. Sure, he could go to his other friends, but when you’re his first choice… what could he do? He couldn’t call or text you now that he wants to more than over. He wanted to cry at the sound of your voice and beg you to reconsider—to go on real dates with him—to have a real Christmas romance. 

‘You got what you wanted.’

Day two was just as hard. When he hadn’t blown up the group chat over some random thing in over twenty-four hours, this was when his friends got worried. So they blew up his phone instead with a mixture of concern and heartfelt care, and whatever you call Jisung’s messages. Hyunjin decided to ignore them, but kept checking his phone on the off-chance he’d get a text from you. Eventually, he turned over his phone and rolled over in his bed, shutting his eyes and hoping the world would disappear for a bit. 

‘You got the dates, you got to experience a Christmas romance.’

Now here he sits, on day three, in the trio’s shared off-campus apartment. He only begrudgingly got out of bed when Jisung threatened to start screaming outside his door. He’s lying sideways across the couch, his feet propped up against the armchair. He hasn’t washed his hair in too long, he vaguely thinks a family of birds might nest in it someday, and his grey sweats have a big blotch of brown on one leg. He spilled hot Americano on himself when he got home after your breakup, but he didn’t have the energy to change out of them.

He knows he shouldn’t be calling it a breakup when you two were never really together. But when his feelings are completely and utterly real, it really feels like one. He feels his eyes start to become misty again, and he shoves his head into his sweater paws as he tries to bury himself in the sofa more. 

‘So we should end this now.’

Chan, Changbin, and Jisung are all watching from the barely-used dining table. They are at a loss for words, they hadn’t thought about the possibility of you and Hyunjin ever breaking up. To everyone in the friend group, you two were set for life, ride-or-dies, the sunshine to the flowers. To them, there was never any possibility of a break up. They just didn’t get it. 

Changbin takes a sip of his protein shake through a bright pink curly straw, and huffs. “This is weird, dudes.” He looks over at the two other boys, who still have their eyes on Hyunjin. “He’s never been like this with anyone.” 

“Y/N isn’t just anyone, though,” Chan responds.

“Yeah,” Jisung sighs, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. His eyes still bore into Hyunjin. “They’re, like, totally made for each other.”  

Hyunjin brings his hands away slightly, sending the best glare he could manage. To the boys, however, it was more pitiful than scary, like a kicked puppy. All they want to do is scoop him up and never let him go until his heart is unbroken.  

“You know I can hear you, right?” Hyunjin asks. “And to be honest, I really don’t like all this mumbling.” 

The boys don’t hold his bad mood against him. He’s upset, frustrated, and they know he’ll apologise when he’s feeling better. Chan takes the lead, opening his mouth to speak before the other two dummies could say anything to make Hyunjin more upset. 

“We’re sorry, we’re just confused on why you guys broke up,” he explains. The other two boys nod their heads as the eldest speaks. “You two have always seemed so perfect for each other.” 

They notice how Hyunjin’s shoulders drop and he goes to hide his face in his sweater paws again. His words come out all muffled and Chan, Changbin, and Jisung all glance at each other to see if any of them understood what he said.

“What was that?” Chan asks. Hyunjin yanks his sweater paws away from his face, turning his head sharply at the boys.

“We never broke up, okay?!”

The trio can now really see how glassy Hyunjin’s eyes have become. They exchange concerned glances with each other, frowns of their own also covering their faces.

“W-Wait. What do you m—” 

Hyunjin cuts Chan off with a hiccup. 

“We— we were never really together... So w-we never really broke up.” 

The boys are stunned, confused and so completely stunned. They don’t know where to even begin to wrap their heads around the confession. But it also leads them to the next question, if it was all fake… why was Hyunjin so distraught now that it was over? 

Now it didn’t take a genius to figure that out, but it was better to hear it from Hyunjin himself.

“Okay,” Chan gulps, “do you want to start from the beginning?” 

So Hyunjin starts from the beginning. He starts off with the confession from Jisoo that was totally not the vibe. He talks about how he went to you to whine about how he was losing his chance for a college Christmas romance, to how you suggested he should fake date someone to get the experiences he wanted. To how he had decided you were his perfect person for the task. 

“Why didn’t you just tell us it was fake, man?” Changbin asks, “it wouldn’t have been that much of a deal.” 

Hyunjin sighs, falling back into the chair and letting his head fall backwards so he can look up at the ceiling. 

“I don’t know, just wanted it to seem more realistic I guess.” He sighs. 

“Well…” Jisung continues, “what happened next?” 

So Hyunjin continues with his story. He talks about the decorating of your dorm, he ignores the comment from Jisung about that’s how your apartment got that way. He goes on to talk about the movie night and the cookies to the ice skating, and he talks about the Christmas tree farm. 

��From there…” Hyunjin slows down and pauses. 

The trio is silent, waiting for the blond to admit what they all know. They’re not sure how long he’s silent for, it could have been only a second, but in that moment it could have also been a lifetime. 

“From there… It was different.” 

He looks over to the three boys at the dining table. He felt like his heart was cracking in a whole new different way. When he was keeping it to himself, he could shove it into a little box and act as if it was something future-Hyunjin had to deal with. But now this present version of him hated past him for even thinking about putting the emotions aside to begin with. 

“I don’t know when it happened, or if it happened long before I even realised it, but she’s different. She’s her version of perfect and now it’s blown up in my face.” Hyunjin’s frown is contagious. “I– I love her and now she wants nothing to do with me anymore.” 

“I’m sure that’s not true…” Changbin tries to sympathise, but Hyunjin just shakes his head. 

“You should have seen her, she would barely look at me.” Hyunjin begins to hiccup again. “She’s the love of my life and it ended before it even started.” 

Jisung opens his mouth to speak, but Chan quickly nudges him in the side to be quiet. When Jisung looks at the older boy, all Chan does is shake his head. A look on his face saying let him get this out. 

“Ever since the Christmas tree farm, she’s been different, she’s amazing and kind–” Hyunjin hiccups, blinking away the tears he could feel welling up in his eyes. “She has this sparkle about her and even though I know it annoyed her, she still let me go on and on about how I wanted a perfect college Christmas romance when with her… I don’t need perfection.” 

“What are you going to do?” 

Hyunjin feels like curling up into a ball. He wishes for his friends to stop staring at him. He wants to hide, he wants to cry, and he wants to eat his body weight in a food that isn’t going to remind him of you– not that there were many types of those things. 

“I need to give her the space she wanted,” Hyunjin states. “She can do the things she needs to: focus on work and her internship. And I'll wait…” 

“Wait for her?” Jisung says.

Hyunjin nods. “I’ll wait forever if I have to.” 

eleven.

– december 15th.

When the soft click of her door closing behind her is heard, you turn your attention back to him. You open your mouth to speak, but before you can utter a word, he shakes his head.

“No.” He doesn’t even let you begin.

He gasps for air and you can see him blinking rapidly. You feel your heart tear in two.

“I get it,” he mutters. “You can have what you want.”

Before you can utter another word, he’s out the door. You’re sure the pizza he leaves behind is cold by now, but even if you were hungry a few minutes ago, you’re not anymore. What you want more is for him to turn around, to come back when you call out to him.

But he’s gone. It’s too late.

“Okay, so what was that all about?” Yeri’s voice breaks you out of your trance. 

You’re not sure how long it’s been since Hyunjin left your dorm, your door is still wide open, and you haven’t even moved a muscle. Even though you have class in twenty minutes—that part you didn’t lie about—you want nothing but to run into your room and hide there for the rest of the year.

You clear your throat and your hands go back to the strap of your bag to keep them entertained. “I… I don’t know what you’re on about.”

You haven’t even turned to look at her and you know that she knows you’re lying through your teeth.  

“Uh huh,” Yeri tuts. 

You hear her footsteps get closer to you before she’s come up beside you and is now in eye view. 

“So no trouble going on with Mr Blond Best Friend, then?” she continues to question. 

You stay silent in response, not trusting your own voice. Your eyes start to feel wet. You were able to keep up an act in front of Hyunjin, but now that he’s gone and the vision of his teary eyes keeps repeating in your mind, it’s getting more and more difficult to pretend. 

“Nothing’s going on,” you clear your throat again. Tugging on your crossbody bag, you look at her once before rushing to the door. “I need to go to class, glad to see you back.” 

Yeri can’t even get another word out as you rush out the door, slamming it behind you. You unknowingly take the same route as Hyunjin, rushing down the stairs to get out of the building as quickly as possible. 

Once the cold air hits you, you take a deep breath and wipe your cheeks with the back of your hands. 

You had to, it was the only option.

“Hyunjin!” you call out, looking all around you. Several students push by you, some wearing holiday pyjamas or Santa hats. You don’t understand how they can feel even an ounce of Christmas spirit right now.

You try running somewhere, anywhere, ducking and weaving through the pack of students making their way to wherever they want to go. There are hundreds of students out, yet you can pick out one blond head from the crowd.

“Hyunjin!”

You run faster. Before you’re able to process it, someone on an electric scooter whizzes by, knocking you off your feet. You yelp and stretch your arms out to catch yourself.

And now you’re on the ground. Groaning, you slowly move to get up. Hundreds of students pass by where you lie, but not one stops to help you. Until…

“Oh my god, Y/N!”

You light up for a second at the familiar voice. Once you realise who it is, you roll over, deflated.

Jisung gasps. “You look like death! What happened to you?!”

You blink once. “Gee, thanks,” you say flatly.

The boy stares at you for a second before finally reaching a hand out. You take it and he pulls you up.

“O-Okay, but seriously, what happened?” he says. “Are you okay?”

You search his eyes for a moment before shrugging. What are you supposed to say to Jisung? That you just ruined your friendship with the love of your life?

“It’s about Hyunjin, isn’t it?” Jisung says, his voice softer. The way he’s watching you makes you tear up all over again. He seems to let you process for another moment before reaching over, rubbing your shoulder gently.

“Look,” he sighs, “I… I know you two weren’t real. I honestly thought you were, though.” He then mutters something along the lines of, “So I didn’t owe our friend group sixty dollars after all.”

“That’s your first thought right now?”

“Wait, nonono!” Jisung’s stance changes in a snap and begins frantically smoothing out your outfit, ruffling your messy hair and making it even messier. “It’s okay, it’s okay, everything will beeee okaaayyy.”

You groan and roll your eyes fondly, but you let him continue.

“Okay, but for real now…” He rubs your shoulder again. “I think you should tell him.”

A breath hitches in the back of your throat. “Tell him… what exactly?”

He sighs deeply. “You know what I mean, Y/N.”

It’s your turn to sigh, and you look down at your shoes as your eyes well up again. Jisung smiles sadly at you and pulls you into a hug.

“He misses you, you know that?” he says. You nod, shoving your face in his shoulder before he can see you cry. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell him you miss him, too. That’s your job.”

In between sobs, you nod.

“And once you two get together, I can get my damn money back,” Jisung grumbles.

You let out a wet chuckle and hold onto him for another minute. You’re terrified of what may happen, but no amount of fear in your body is worth the heartbreak you feel right now.

twelve.

– december 24th.

Hyunjin feels… something. 

Every year on Christmas Eve, the boy would scramble to get to bed early, so he could be asleep by the time Santa comes. Obviously, though, he’s since outgrown that tradition, but now he stays up till midnight like every other teenager and college student, counting down the seconds to Christmas Day. It’s as if Christmas is Hyunjin’s pre-New Year of sorts. He may not believe in Santa anymore, but the childlike wonder and excitement he gets during this time of year has never changed. He’s all jumpy and hyper and jittery like a kid who ate too much candy, eagerly awaiting the day that the movies and the lights and the snow have made so magical.

And this year, for the first time ever, he might not be counting down alone.

Going the past week without hearing the sound of your voice felt like walking barefoot through a pit full of Legos—doubly so because he saw you on campus during finals week talking to Jisung once. Jisung! Out of everyone in your friend circle, of course you were still talking to the one who flirts with everyone for fun. At least he didn’t wink at you this time…

But after what felt like aeons of being sent to voicemail, you finally called him back three days, sixteen hours, and forty-seven minutes ago. You said something about meeting up for lunch the day after or something; he barely remembers anything from that call other than that you called. That lunch at the university cafe wasn’t much different. He was so relieved that you were in front of him talking to him again that he wasn’t paying much attention to what you were actually saying.

…Okay, maybe that’s a lie. You rearranged the Christmas decorations he had thrown all over your dorm on your first date, you got all your Christmas shopping done, and you have a super-duper special date planned for Christmas Eve. Dress warm. You’ll pick him up at 8 for dinner. And you’ll both be getting home late.

Hyunjin can see his breath just past his nose as he checks out his reflection in the glass window panes of the university library. He picked out his best winter coat for tonight—the one that goes with almost any outfit he could put together, but also doesn’t take the limelight off of yours. He also broke out the pristine white sneakers—you know, the ones he cleans frantically after every use. Were they going to get dirty in the snow? Maybe a little. But it’s you, and they go so well with his sweater and jeans. You deserve his best fit.

He knows nothing about what your plan is for tonight. All he knows is that you’ll be here in five minutes, his stomach is doing flips inside him, and he’s got shivers going up his spine.

Hyunjin feels something—he just can’t name what that something is. All the adjectives he can think of don’t feel quite right. The closest he can get is ‘tingly’, and even then, he can’t explain why he landed on that particular word. But when you pull up at the library and roll down your window, all the words he’s ever learned fly out the door.

No combination of letters could capture how beautiful you are to him.

…

Hyunjin is surprised to find himself back in the heart of downtown. This time, it’s after a lovely meal and hours-long conversation with you, and you’re the one guiding him around now.

He swivels his head around as he lets you lead, taking in all the glittery Christmas lights the same way you are. Quickly, he recognizes you’re taking the same path he once did to the cafe where you two watched the light switch. He feels like he’s on the Polar Express to the North Pole—yes, of course he was watching the movie before your date tonight. It’s a Christmas must.

Wait… fake date. He nearly forgot these dates aren’t real.

He’s not sure why he let himself get away with calling all these real dates. Clearly, it made you uncomfortable to the point where you felt the need to fake-break up with him. He’s also not sure if he should consider himself lucky that the breakup wasn’t real.

Does this mean the fake Christmas romance thing is back on? You two never actually discussed it, but you did also ask him on a… fake date.

Despite this, there’s still something in the air that’s giving him that tingly feeling. He’s still not sure if that’s the right word. He just knows that standing right next to you on the balcony of an abandoned cafe to witness the arrival of Christmas Day… it feels so, so right. Almost like everything is falling into place.

“Hyunnie… can we talk?”

—

Hyunjin turns to you, his gaze soft, and you freeze in place. Did you really just say that? Now?  What if you ruin Christmas Eve and Christmas because you didn’t wait?

You sigh to yourself, a small puff of air escaping your mouth. You know that this was something you needed to do, both for yourself and your peace of mind. Maybe Jisung, too, and whatever lost money he was moping about that one time. But there’s still ten minutes to midnight. Is that too soon?

No. It’s not. If anything, it’s long overdue. No more running. Plus, if he’s truly your best friend and he doesn’t like you back, nothing should change… right? At least, not for the long term.

“Is everything okay?”

Hyunjin’s honey voice pulls you out of your thoughts. Hyunnie, sweet like honey… wait, Y/N, don’t get distracted. It’s almost midnight.

Take a deep breath.

“Hyunnie, um…” You fiddle with a small object in your pocket as you try to think.

When you look up, he’s nodding. “Yeah?”

Deep breath.

“I’m sorry… I'm sorry for ghosting you and stopping this so suddenly.” You’re blinking and Hyunjin watches as you open your mouth to speak before closing it again. Like the words are at the tip of your tongue, but the courage just hasn’t bubbled up enough. “I…” You take a breath, looking up at anywhere but him as you mumble to yourself, “God, this is so much harder than I thought it’d be.”

You take a little shuffle forward.

“I… I think I realised too late, and by the time I realised, I freaked out and just… I shut down.” You look at him, your eyes boring into each other like you’re both trying to find the centre of each other’s soul. It's too much for you to stomach while you struggle to pull words out of your throat, so you let your gaze fall.

“Realised what?” Hyunjin whispers. You somehow hear it over the crowd of people forming below you.

You shuffle forward unconsciously again, keeping your eyes down. 

“Do— do you hate me?” Hyunjin says.

Eyes wide, you snap your head up and shake your head quickly. “N-No! Of course not.” “Then what—”

Your gaze shoots down and your hand goes for Hyunjin’s. A small gasp leaves his mouth before your brain catches up with the rest of you.

When you finally have the courage to look back up, it’s like everything has blurred into the background. Everything except the boy in front of you, who looks about as shocked as you are at yourself. Is this it? Is this going to be your Hallmark moment?

Deep breath.

“I love you.”

Hyunjin’s eyes grow wider, his mouth opening and closing like a fish a couple times. He probably thinks someone took over your body, that this isn’t really you.

“You… love me?”

You nod and smile. It’s hard to tell if he’s still in disbelief, but honestly, you can barely believe you’re saying these words. But you mean every single one of them.

“I do… and there’s no one else I’d rather have a Christmas romance with.”

There’s a feverish look grazing Hyunjin’s face, his mouth opened just slightly as he gasps quietly. You swear you can see little stars adorning his pretty brown eyes.

“Well,” you clarify quickly, “a college Christmas romance. But I don’t think I want this to end after we graduate.”

Hyunjin’s eyes are crinkling at the edges, his nose scrunching just slightly with the force of his joy. You’re sure of two things in that moment. One, your own expression must look just as lovesick as his. And two, you’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as Hyunjin under the glow of the lights surrounding the plaza. 

“Y/N, I… can I kiss you?”

From somewhere in the streets below, you recognize the gathered crowd beginning the countdown to midnight. You barely pay it half a mind as you pull the object from your pocket. Hyunjin’s eyes follow you as you hold it up over your heads. It’s a small sprig of mistletoe, and you can’t help the proud smile that sweeps across your face.

“You know, you wanted to hit all the Christmas traditions and you forgot one of the best ones.” 

“God, I love you.”

You practically jump into his arms when he presses his lips against yours. Fireworks explode in your chest as the clock rings twelve and cheers erupt from the streets below. It’s all a buzz in your head, though, as you cup Hyunjin’s cheeks in your hands and melt into his arms and lips and just him. 

You hope he never tries to chase perfection again, because you’re sure that this moment, right now, is the definition of it. Nothing has ever felt so perfect, so right, and nothing else will ever come close.

As if on cue, when you two slowly break the kiss, you feel something wet land on your head. You and your not fake boyfriend?—you’ll have to talk to him about that later—look up to see fluffy, white snowdrops falling all around you two.

“Merry Christmas, Hyunnie,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Hyunjin has the biggest smile on his face as you pull away. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

You let out a joyful giggle. It looks like Hyunjin got the cheesy Christmas romance he’s been searching his whole life for. It might not have gone the exact way he’d dreamed of, but you hope he is as happy as he has always made you.

And maybe, just maybe, you also got the ending you’d been dreaming of all along.

[gwynndolin]

i can’t actually remember if all of the bow and arrow based minigames in oot and mm were all this difficult or if the fact that the joystick on this modern recreation n64 controller is like, ill suited for that. even the smallest stick movements feel like they translate to a huge first person movement. I’m not certain exactly how the control stick works in this modern one, but i assume its all potentiometers like most controllers are. Interestingly enough, it almost looks like it has a similar kind of mechanism to how the 3DS joystick looks, where its kind of on a linear slide.

Anyway, the old original N64 controllers used two encoder wheels and a laser (or probably just a small light) and a light sensing diode which would be intermittently shrouded by little interruptions on the decoder wheel which would give varying levels of current and a bunch of calculations happen which tell the controller where the joystick is, which is actually kinda great when compared to the current controller standard of graphite pads which are the typical point of failure and cause of stick drift, either from wear or dust (and dust from wear) causing the contacts to shit out.

At the bottom of the assembly there you can see the decoder wheels controlling the X and Y inputs, attached to a cradle assembly that the joystick is pushed through and locked into. Most everything that isn't contained in that bowl that the joystick sits in is shrouded, so there's not really a chance to even get small particulates into the decoder wheel. In fact the only reason n64 joysticks tend to fail is from them getting super loose around the little ball around the bottom

This part makes action with two little plastic nubs with the gate that also acts as the shroud which assists with centering the joystick and returning it to a neutral position with assistance from a spring assembly underneath the shroud.

The problem I had with my old controller is that it had been used so much that the little slits in the ball had all ballooned out from the use and friction over the years which meant it wasn't a tight fit anymore and made it so the stick would just kinda flop around instead of returning to neutral. The other problem they had (which mine also did) was that the bowl that was at the very bottom of the assembly was not lubricated, or at the very least, wasn't lubricated enough and evaporated over the years, leading to the bottom part of the joystick to scrape the bottom of the bowl and essentially sand it down.

This is almost all plastic from the inside of the bowl being scraped by the joystick (tho im sure its a little skin and whatever else too) and this would also cause a lot of problems, like the joystick sitting lower in the bowl than it was supposed to. That in combination with the centering pegs(?) not making tight action with the stick makes it wiggle around and essentially useless.

Aside from how like, stupid the solid plastic joystick was (my thumb has been getting sore after like a single solid hour or two of play), and the wear points being super obvious, i think the decoder wheel assembly is pretty cool and reminds me of how now we're getting people making control sticks with hall effect sensors which do not have a point of contact to measure input (as opposed to the gearing on the decoder wheels and joystick assembly themself, which theoretically is a wear point but is very uncommon)

[honeypiehotchner]

gold star (Hotch x Teacher!Reader) -- one shot

Been working on this one for a hot minute oops. Just wanted to say thank y’all for being patient with me always (and we literally hit 5.7k followers even while I’ve been so inactive???? what????). Here’s a longgg dose of fluffy angst <33

Edit: I’m a dumbass and queued this for the wrong day

Summary: You’re Jack’s teacher and Aaron is basically your nemesis. Until he’s not. (Kinda enemies to lovers?)

Warnings: angst! talks of parent death, therapy, bad parenting/emotional neglect, y’know the works. Lots of fluff tho to make up for it. And a happy ending!

WC: ...5.7k-ish

I love my job. I love my job. If you say it enough, you’ll believe it. I love my job. You glance at the clock and see your next parent is late. I love my job.

You do love your job, you really do. What you hate are parent-teacher conferences that you’re required to do. Especially when the parent is late. After having to reschedule at the last minute. Twice.

If you didn’t have a genuine concern to discuss with Jack’s father, then you wouldn’t be here still. But alas, you care for Jack more than your annoyance at his father.

Jack Hotchner is a sweet kid. Genuinely wonderful. After his mom’s sudden death a few years ago, everyone worried about him. You’re friends with Julia, who was his kindergarten teacher just a few months after it occurred. Despite being a teacher for almost a decade that year, Julia had never encountered this situation, so she looked to you for help. You lost your mom when you were in first grade, so you were able to give her more helpful tips that actually work.

Now, you have the pleasure of having Jack in your second grade classroom and he truly is an amazing student. You only wish you could share this information with his father who seems to be on another plane of existence every goddamn--

A knock on your classroom door frame makes you jump.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron Hotchner rushes out, quickly dropping his hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine, Mr. Hotchner,” you say, standing up from your desk chair, putting on a smile. “Come on in.”

“Thanks, and please, it’s Aaron,” he smiles sheepishly, walking over. He towers over the tiny desks as he maneuvers past them to yours. He sticks out his hand for you to shake. He has a firm grip, but his hands are soft. “I’m sorry I’m so late. I got caught up at work--”

“I figured,” you reply, sitting back down. You pull up your laptop and begin typing in your password. “Unfortunately, I’ll have to make this quick. I should’ve left an hour ago.”

“Oh, sorry, am I that late?” he flicks his arm to look at his watch. He sighs. “I apologize.”

You hum. “Our conference was scheduled for 4:15.” You glance down at the clock on your screen. “It’s almost six.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says again. “Would it be better to reschedule?”

“Nope,” you shake your head. “You’re already here.” And if you reschedule, then this might happen again, so you’d rather do this now while you’ve got him here. “Fortunately, Jack is doing really well. He’s struggling a little with math, but he’s not the only one, and we’re working on it. He’s made a few friends, I know we discussed that last time. He’s breaking out of his shell, I think.”

“That’s good,” Aaron says, smiling a little. “That’s really good to hear.”

“Is he doing any extracurriculars?” you ask. Last time, when you voiced your concerns to Aaron about his son being a little too quiet and shy, you suggested asking if he’d like to do a sport, or play an instrument.

“He’s doing soccer,” Aaron says.

Your eyes widen. “Oh!”

“You look surprised,” he presses.

“I guess I didn’t expect Jack to…want to do a sport,” you shrug, checking your notes for the conference to stall.

What you really wanted to say is that you didn’t expect Aaron to listen to you. Given his track record, it seemed highly unlikely that he’d follow through and actually ask his son about trying a sport, let alone go through with signing him up for one.

“Do you have any questions for me?” you ask, closing your laptop lid. Aaron has been studying your face in this lull of silence, and it’s unnerving.

“I don’t think so,” he finally says.

“Okay,” you nod, not surprised. “I did have one more thing. I know I said Jack is breaking out of his shell, and he is, but he seems…down. Is something going on at home?”

Aaron sighs. “It’s getting closer to the anniversary of his mom’s death.”

That tugs on your heart. “Oh, I see. Alright.” You pause. “Uh-- If you don’t mind me asking, is he seeing a counselor or a therapist or anything?”

“He’s not, not currently,” Aaron says.

You blink. You shouldn’t really be surprised, but you are. “Has he at all since his mom’s death?”

“Briefly, right after she died.”

“Okay.” You clear your throat. You cannot yell at a parent. That’s unprofessional. “I know it’s not my place, but I’d highly suggest finding him someone. Especially right now as the anniversary is getting closer, and as Jack gets older. I would suggest our school counselor, but I think Jack would do better with someone better equipped for his situation.”

Aaron stares at you, nodding slowly. “Alright.”

You lean over and open a drawer, grabbing the handout specifically for times like these. Given the area the school is in, parents are typically able to pay for services like these, and are more willing. You know it’s because they don’t have the time to deal with their children’s emotions, so they pawn them off on someone else, and claim it as a good deed.

In a way, you’re grateful the children are able to receive help that you didn’t because your dad couldn’t afford it. You just wish the kids also received support from their family, not just from doctors.

“Here’s a list of great pediatric psychiatrists and therapists in the area.” You hand Aaron the packet and he takes it gently, his expression unreadable. Parents are always so weirdly defensive about this. “Many of our students see someone from that list, so I trust that one will be a good fit for Jack. If you want some help narrowing it down, I can help.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “I’ll look into this.”

I hope so, you want to say, but he doesn’t sound too sincere. “Okay,” you smile softly instead. “That’s all I have, unless you have any other questions?”

He shakes his head. “No, I think-- I think this is good.”

“Alright, well,” you pause, opening Jack’s folder. “I just need you to sign here, so the school knows we met.” You slide the form and a pen across the table.

Aaron signs swiftly, a signature born from frequent piles of paperwork. You know he does something in the government, you’re just not sure what. Nearly every parent here works in the government, though, so that’s not a remarkable conclusion to have made.

“Thank you,” you say, taking the signed form and sliding it back into Jack’s folder. “I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

“You too,” Aaron says, standing up to shake your hand again. He’s so formal, you almost forget. He clutches the packet in his free hand, and you wonder if it’ll end up in the recycling bin at the end of the hall.

After shaking your hand, Aaron apologizes again for his tardiness, and then leaves your classroom. The clock on the wall says it’s just past six. A record for one of the latest nights you’ve been here.

Gathering your things, you do some last minute checks around the classroom before heading out, locking the door behind you.

As you reach the exit doors at the end of the hall, you peer into the trash and recycling bins. Both are empty, no signs of your pediatric psychiatrists packet.

At least that’s a win.

+++

A month or so later, you’re waking up early to go to a soccer game. If it weren’t for your kids asking you (loudly and enthusiastically) to come to their game, then you wouldn’t be awake right now on a Saturday.

Julia, at least, is coming with you, and so is Kate, a fellow second grade teacher whose classroom is across from yours. Julia is coming to see Jack, and Kate also has a few students who asked her to come.

The three of you stop for coffee before going to the park where the soccer games are held. Walking across the field, you find an empty space on the bleachers and sit down, looking around for your kiddos.

To your complete and utter surprise, you spot Aaron Hotchner -- of all parents.

You quickly avert your eyes, looking around some more. You haven’t seen or spoken to Aaron since the parent-teacher conference as Jack is usually picked up and dropped off by his Aunt Jessica. Jack has seemed a little more present and happy, but you have no idea if that means that Aaron actually sought help for his son.

Even more embarrassing, you’ve worried about your job since that conference. It’s always a gamble, offering parents advice. You never know what will cross a line and equal an angry phone call to the principal followed by a swift withdrawal of their child from your class. Not every parent has always been so keen on your attention to your students’ emotional wellbeing.

“Don’t look, but one of the dads cannot keep his eyes off of you,” Julia whispers.

“Which one?” Kate asks, then she spots him. “Oh, him-- He’s tall. Wait, is he…?”

You glance over and sure enough, the one in question is Aaron. He can’t tell that you’ve looked at him, though, thanks to your sunglasses. “That’s Jack’s dad,” you say, looking away again.

“I knew he looked familiar,” Julia murmurs. “I’m not used to him out of the suit. His hair is longer too, isn’t it?”

“Why would I know?” you counter, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Is he the one you mouthed off to?” Kate asks, nudging your arm.

You scoff defensively, “I didn’t mouth off--”

“She told him to put his son in therapy,” Julia explains with a prideful smirk. “Rightfully so, too. I would’ve done the same if I ever saw him.”

“Damn,” Kate chuckles. “Let’s hope that he took your advice.”

“And that he isn’t pissed at me for it,” you mutter. “I haven’t heard anything since.”

Kate and Julia share a look before Julia says, “He’s definitely not mad.”

Finally, you give yourself the chance to look over at him, and to let him see you looking.

You’ll admit, it is weird seeing him out of the suit, let alone in short sleeves. You’ve never seen his arms. They’re…nice. Muscular, more than you expected. Not that you’ve wondered about his arms, though. Or any part of him. Because he’s Jack’s dad, so you should not be thinking about him this way.

Still, you indulge, just for this moment. He keeps your eyes only for a minute before his attention is drawn elsewhere to the screaming kids practicing their warmups (if that’s what those can be called). He’s smiling from ear to ear, something you’ve never seen. The tiny smiles you managed out of him during conferences hardly ever looked genuine. This, though, this one is.

“You should talk to him,” Julia whispers, nearly scaring you shitless. You completely forgot where you were for a minute.

“No,” you shake your head, tearing your eyes away. “That’s practically asking for him to yell at me.”

“He won’t do that,” Julia chides.

“Well, I don’t know,” Kate grimaces. “Parents are finicky. I got yelled at last year by one who I thought was the sweetest ever. Until her kid didn’t pass a science test.”

“See?” you say, gesturing to Kate. “We have no idea what he’ll be like.”

“Besides that he’s looking at you again,” Julia says. “So he’s clearly interested in talking to you.”

“Then he can walk over here himself.”

Julia raises her eyebrows, shrugging. “Be careful what you wish for.”

You roll your eyes. Aaron is too busy with the kids and their game is about to start, so there’s no way he’ll walk over. Even if you speak after, Jack will be with him, so nothing will be said. It’s fine.

+++

Aaron’s mouth is dry. He feels like he forgot how to breathe properly.

He didn’t know you’d be here, and here you are. Beautiful. Except he shouldn’t think that, because you’re his son’s teacher. It’s inappropriate. But the way the sun hits your skin…beautiful. You’re beautiful.

He needs to focus. He’s supposed to be coaching the kids, not gawking at a teacher like some idiot.

To make matters worse, Rossi notices, and only silently raises his eyebrows.

Aaron told Rossi about your parent-teacher conference, and how he should’ve put Jack in therapy sooner -- along with himself. Rossi asked him if he thanked you for your advice, but Aaron never found the right time. He half-heartedly thanked you at the conference, but it wasn’t as genuine as it should’ve been.

He meant to call you, or send an email, but he never did. Truthfully, he’s been terrified. He feels incredibly stupid to have not gotten Jack help sooner, and even more stupid that he finds you as attractive as he does. Can he be any worse of a person, seriously?

And now, you’re here. At Jack’s soccer game. Which, he guesses he should’ve realized sooner that a lot of Jack’s classmates are on this team, too. And others from different classes, but still in his grade. It was only a matter of time before one of the kids asked a teacher to come. It would only take one, and clearly it did, and he’s unprepared.

Wildly unprepared. And wishing he put on a better shirt.

+++

The soccer game is a disaster, but a wonderful one.

The kids are too young for points to be counted, so it’s just a game of fun chaos. Teams are blurred and never really followed. But they looked like they had a blast out there, so that’s all that mattered.

You, Julia, and Kate split up to see your kids and give out as many high-fives as you possibly can. You listen to their rambles and congratulate them on playing so well. The parents stand by with smiles, occasionally one piping up to thank you for coming.

Aaron is there, too, surprisingly. He’s still smiling bigger than ever.

There’s a man with him, too, who Jack calls Uncle Dave. Jack has mentioned him in class before, and he’s actually Aaron’s coworker. He’s smiling, too, just not as wide, and he keeps glancing between you and Aaron.

Just when you think you’re in the clear, Aaron tells Jack to go with Uncle Dave because he needs to talk to you about something.

You catch Julia and Kate’s eyes when Aaron is left alone with you, and your stomach turns. He doesn’t look angry, but then again, the parents never look angry at first.

“I just wanted to thank you,” Aaron begins, turning so the sun isn’t in his eyes as much. He’s still squinting, and it’s adorable. You wonder why he didn’t wear sunglasses. “I picked a therapist from the list you gave me for Jack, and it’s really been helping him. A lot, so, I just wanted to thank you for giving that to me.”

You blink, stunned. “You’re welcome,” you say slowly before you gain your composure. “I’m very glad that it’s been helping. And to see him playing soccer,” you gesture to the field with a smile. “He seems to really enjoy it.”

“Oh, he does,” Aaron chuckles. “He can’t get enough of it. He talks about it all the time.”

All the time. So maybe he’s spending more time with Jack, then. “Good, I’m really glad to hear that.”

You pause, waiting for him to say something else. The awkward silence lingers for a little too long, and you know what’s coming next.

“I was wondering,” he starts, and lowers his voice a little. “I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner sometime.”

As much as you’d love to say yes, you can’t let yourself. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner, that would just be inappropriate.”

“No, no, not as a date,” he backtracks, confusing you. “Just to thank you for-- For helping me get Jack in to see a therapist.”

You raise an eyebrow. “To thank me…for telling you what you should’ve done in the first place?”

He sputters for a moment, clearly losing his bearings. “No, I mean--”

“Listen, Mr. Hotchner,” you smile sweetly, trying to contain yourself. “What would you like? A gold star? For getting your son a therapist after he went through an incredibly traumatic event?”

He doesn’t say anything, and somehow that makes your anger and annoyance worse.

“Listen. The fact of the matter is that you should’ve kept your son in therapy since he lost his mother. And continue to keep him in therapy until he’s old enough to decide if he wants to continue seeing one or not. Because when my mom died, I didn’t get to have a therapist. We couldn’t afford it, and my dad was too out of his mind to even care. It nearly killed me, and my siblings. So don’t tell me that you want to thank me for something that I never should’ve had to do in the first place. You should’ve paid more attention to your son’s needs. Especially since you can afford services to genuinely help him.”

Your voice stayed quiet, thankfully, because you didn’t need everyone to hear you mouthing off to Aaron once again. You realize only halfway through that maybe you shouldn’t be saying these things in a setting such as this, but you’re too into it to stop.

Julia and Kate heard all of it, though. You can see their jaws open, eyes wide. Did you go too far? You don’t know and part of you doesn’t care. It’s the truth, and it hits far too close to home for you to say nothing at all.

Still, to cover your bases, you add one last thing. “I apologize if that was harsh, but it needed to be said. I want what’s best for my kids. And sometimes, that means getting their parents to see that they need to do better.”

You pause, and he nods, and says another quiet “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you murmur. And to keep things from stinging any more, you walk away.

Julia and Kate catch up with you on the way back to your car, both too stunned to say a word until you’re inside.

“Damn,” Julia whispers. “Damn.”

“Holy shit,” Kate says with a small laugh. “Tell ‘em.”

“Yeah,” you exhale loudly. “Let’s just hope I still have a job by Monday.”

+++

You do still have a job come Monday, with surprisingly no meeting with the principal, either. Or a phone call.

You’re suspicious, but trying not to be. Maybe it’s all fine.

You convince yourself that it’s completely fine until it really is. Until you start seeing Aaron occasionally, picking Jack up from school. You aren’t sure how often he’s been doing it, because the only reason you saw him is that you were forced into car rider duty. You’ve always been on the bus lane, but they needed another teacher out front, and that’s where you saw him first.

It caught you off guard the first time, honestly. It had been three weeks since the soccer game, since you told him off in front of everyone. And what did he do this time when he saw you?

He waved. He smiled. And then he scooped Jack up into his arms.

She won’t own up to it, but you’re positive Julia saw the interaction because you haven’t worked the bus lane since. Because Julia suddenly volunteered for it, taking your place.

Now, it’s a bit of a routine. Aaron picks Jack up almost every day, although sometimes there are a few stretches of three to four days where he isn’t present. Those days, you see Jessica, and she smiles at you as well, but it’s different. You got so used to seeing Aaron those days, that when you see Jessica, it feels strange. It begins to feel the way it used to feel when you saw Aaron picking Jack up.

It makes you smile. You’re glad to see Aaron taking the time to see Jack, to put in the time — finally — knowing he has the means to be able to do this.

+++

For the rest of the school year, this is how you see Aaron Hotchner.

Neither of you say a word to each other, except for the final parent-teacher conference — which he arrives early for. The conference is entirely professional, and he doesn’t mention the past. Neither do you.

The final week of school fast approaches, and you’re looking for decorations to put up in the classroom. You try to make the last week special because you know they’re just as ready for summer break as you are.

Part of your “decorations” consists of candy that you’ll put on their desk every morning, which means you’re in the grocery store, in desperate need of candy to entertain your kids. Five different kinds. Something extra special on the last day, though. They’ll get out two hours earlier, but they don’t know that yet (the parents do).

Right as you turn down the candy aisle, you stop dead in your tracks, your cart nearly smacking into someone else’s. When you look up, you realize who it is.

“Mr. Hotchner!” you blurt.

He smiles that soft smile. “Please, call me Aaron.”

You’re not used to calling parents by their first name. You know he’s tried to get you to call him Aaron a few times, but you can’t ever bring yourself to. Instead, you change subjects, peering into his cart.

“Grocery shopping? For…” You raise an eyebrow. “I don’t even have a good joke. Why do you have so many marshmallows?” He has like…six big bags. Of varying sizes, too.

“Long story,” he says, sheepish. “Jack wants to build something out of marshmallows.”

“Does he want to build a whole country?” you chuckle.

“Sort of, yeah,” Aaron laughs. “He said he wants to build a whole city, then eat it. His words.”

“Wonderful,” you grin. “Sounds like a blast.” And a good idea. You might steal that for next year.

“What are you here for?” Aaron asks, nodding toward your empty cart.

“Candy, for the kids,” you reply. “I want to give them a different kind every day for the last week, just to make it more fun.”

Aaron smiles wider this time. “They’ll love that.”

“Thanks,” you say, mirroring his smile.

You don’t know what’s gotten into you. Or him, quite frankly. Building marshmallow sculptures with Jack? Unheard of. But you leave it alone, just glad he’s spending more time with his son.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to shopping,” Aaron says, gesturing down the aisle. “See you on Monday.”

Baffled, you blink, then nod. “Yeah. See you Monday.”

You see Aaron every day of next week to pick Jack up, and you get to see Jack’s smile grow every day.

On Friday, you head back inside to your classroom, ready to pack things up. Thankfully, you’re returning to this room next year, so you don’t need to pack everything up.

As a tradition, you, Julia, and Kate go out to celebrate the end of the year, so you have to go home and get ready for the night ahead.

+++

Aaron doesn’t know why he let Rossi convince him to come out tonight. Jack’s at a sleepover at a friend’s house, so Aaron has nothing to do — theoretically. Until Rossi decided to drag him out.

Now, he’s sitting in a booth at a bar with a jazz band playing, and he’s wondering how many people Rossi can possibly know. Four people have already stopped to say hi, and they’ve barely been here for half an hour.

As Rossi talks with another friend, Aaron lets his eyes wander around the place, spotting the door when it opens. And you walk in.

He quickly averts his eyes, shifting in his seat. It’s enough to catch Rossi’s attention, and he gives Aaron a strange look, until he sees you at the bar with your two friends from Jack’s soccer game.

Aaron keeps his eyes trained on his whiskey, nodding absently when Rossi says he’s heading to the restroom.

What Rossi is actually doing is heading to the bar to intercept you and your friends, putting all three of your drinks on his tab.

“Thanks,” you chuckle, never one to argue with a free drink.

“You look familiar,” Julia blurts out.

“Dave,” Rossi introduces himself. “I’m a friend of Aaron Hotchner’s. I went with him to a few of Jack’s soccer games last season.”

“That’s where I’ve seen you,” you say.

Dave smiles. His back is turned to Aaron, so he can’t see Aaron glaring at him, wondering what the hell he’s doing up there talking to you.

“Aaron’s here with me, actually,” Dave says casually. “He’s at the booth just behind us if you’d like to see him.”

Kate nudges your arm harshly. “She would.”

“Actually, I don’t know if that’s—”

“Go,” Julia urges. “Why not?”

You give them both a look. “Fine,” you cave. “I’ll be right back.”

Kicking yourself for caving so easily (because you really would like to see him), you walk over to the booth where Aaron sits. Thankfully, his back is toward you, so he doesn’t see you coming.

He beams a smile when he sees you though, standing up to greet you. “Hey, what are you doing in here?”

“Kate and Julia drug me out,” you confess, idling for a moment as you both try to decide if you should shake hands, hug, or just stand here. “You?”

“Dave,” Aaron nods, chuckling. Just standing here it is. “Did he send you?”

“They all did,” you nod toward the bar, where they’re all watching like hawks, no doubt. “Mind if I sit?”

“Not at all,” he gestures to the empty space. “How are you?”

“Good, we’re out celebrating the end of the year,” you reply, walking around the table and sitting down on the plush booth cushion. This place is fancier than you would’ve chosen, but Julia heard good things about it from a friend, so you ended up here anyway. “How are you doing?”

“Good, although Dave drug me out for drinks because apparently,” he lifts his drink, “I don’t get out enough.”

“Y’know, that’s funny, my friends tell me the exact same thing,” you laugh. “Dave bought our drinks.”

“I knew he was doing something suspicious,” Aaron jokes, glancing back toward the bar. Dave and your friends have taken over three stools, clearly set on giving you and Aaron some time alone. “Sorry again if he forced you over here.”

“No, he definitely didn’t. My friends did,” you assure him, rolling your eyes. “Oh, I have to ask, how did Jack’s marshmallow city building go?”

Immediately, Aaron digs his phone out of his pocket. “I have a lot of pictures, I’ll just show you.” He unlocks his phone and goes to his camera roll, already smiling at the thought of them. “He had a blast. We went through so many toothpicks. We both had stomachaches by the end of it from eating so many marshmallows.”

He turns his phone to show you the pictures, and without thinking, you scoot closer to him. To get a better look at the pictures, you tell yourself, but you know that isn’t the full truth.

“Oh my god,” you laugh, grinning from ear to ear. “This so huge!”

“It covered our entire kitchen!” Aaron laughs with you, a sweet sound you wish you heard more often. “I didn’t tell Jessica about it, so she had a heart attack when she came over the next day.”

“I bet,” you nod seriously, swiping on his phone as he holds it toward you. “Goodness.” You look up at Aaron. “Did you guys eat all of them?”

“We’ve had a lot of hot chocolate.”

“It’s May.”

“I know,” he deadpans, feigning annoyance, but then he breaks into a smile. “I’ll admit, I’ve been snacking on them maybe a little more than I should every time I go into the kitchen.”

“I would do the same,” you chuckle. “No judgment here.”

He smiles at you and tucks his phone away back in his pocket, and neither of you move from how close you’ve gotten.

“How are you planning to spend your summer break?” he asks, taking a sip of his whiskey. You try not to stare at him too much.

“Lots of getting ready for next year,” you reply, rotating your glass in your hand, focusing on it instead. “Mostly reading for fun, I don’t get to do that a lot during the school year when I’m reading for my kids and grading and such. I plan to do a lot of nothing, basically,” you laugh. “What about you?”

“The same, hopefully,” he says, which surprises you. And he can tell, because he elaborates. “I took a lot of time off from work. I work from home now, essentially. If I absolutely need to go in, then I do, but so far, Dave’s been able to handle it.”

You knew a big change had been made, especially since he’s been picking Jack up from school everyday. But hearing the confirmation makes your heart warm. “I’m really glad to hear that.”

“Me too,” he says. “I know we’ve been over this, but I wanted to thank you for what you said, at Jack’s game—”

Mortified, you interrupt him. “Oh god, I hoped you had forgotten about that.”

“I didn’t forget—”

“I was rude.”

“What you said needed to be said and I’m glad you did,” he protests sincerely. “You shouldn’t have had to say anything, but you did, and I appreciate that.”

His sincerity stuns you. You blink, no words able to come out.

“We can move on from it now,” he says, noticing your hesitation. “I just wanted to be clear that I’m not angry with you for what you said, I’ve actually been the complete opposite.”

“Well,” you chuckle, trying to make light of this. “You didn’t call the school demanding I be suspended, so I knew you couldn’t be that upset with me.”

He stares at you, eyes widening. “Do parents do that?”

“Some, yeah,” you nod. “They don’t exactly like being told by a single teacher with no kids of her own that their parenting skills are shit.”

He laughs, taking a sip of his whiskey. You watch him raise the glass to his lips, but look away before he can catch you. You smile down at your own drink. This is embarrassing.

You thought this little crush -- or whatever it is -- had gone away since you hadn’t spoken to him since the soccer game. Sure, you started to look specifically for him in the pickup area, but that was for Jack. That wasn’t for you. Or, at least, that’s the story you spun for yourself.

“What’s on your list to read this summer?” Aaron asks, bringing your eyes back to his. He’s smiling. “I’ve been meaning to read more -- outside of the books Jack and I read.”

You remember Jack telling you about The Magic Treehouse series that Uncle Dave got him for Christmas, and how his dad was reading them with him.

“What, The Magic Treehouse isn’t enough for you?” you tease Aaron, and he laughs, that sweet sound you can’t get enough of.

You tell him about the books on your shelf at home, the ones you got years ago and have yet to read, and the others that you got this year because you couldn’t resist. He listens to each one, never once taking his eyes off of you.

“I am not going to remember all of these names,” he chuckles.

“I can text them to you,” you offer, a grin creeping up your cheeks.

He mirrors your expression. “You stole my line.”

“Oh, that was your line?” you ask, laughing as you pull out your phone. “Fine, fine, you can have it back.”

“No, you said it first,” he says, still grinning. He hands you his phone as you give him yours. “I’m bad at this anyway.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, typing in your contact information before handing his phone back. “I’ve had a pretty good time.”

He waits a moment, just basking in your smile, the feel of your fingertips brushing against his when he returns your phone. “Me too.”

The night doesn’t end there, as the two of you continue talking. Another round of drinks is sent to your table by Dave and your friends who wave enthusiastically when you and Aaron look over at them.

“Free drinks, at least,” you shrug. “How much money does Dave have?”

“Don’t ask,” Aaron shakes his head. “He’ll never tell.”

As you both finish your first drink and head into the second, you scoot even closer. You bring your legs underneath you on the booth, getting comfortable as you and Aaron start to talk about your favorite movies. He tries to be sneaky and put his arm around you, but you notice and can’t help the giggle that escapes you.

“I told you I’m bad at this.”

“No, it’s sweet!” you protest, leaning into his chest. “It’s very nice, I don’t mind.”

He moves his arm from the back of the booth to your shoulders then, his hand resting on your arm. “This okay?”

“It’s perfect,” you smile softly, turning your head to look up at him. “What movie were we on?”

He stares so intently, searching your face. You watch as his eyes gaze over every inch, dropping to your lips, then back to your pupils. “I have no idea.”

“Me either,” you murmur, silently hoping for a kiss. Silently hoping that he’s hoping, too.

And he is. “I know our friends are watching us,” he whispers. “But can I kiss you right now?”

“Yeah,” you grin. “I was about to ask.”

“Well now we’re even,” he says, leaning closer as he smiles. You tilt your head, meeting his lips halfway, not wanting to wait any longer. You’ve quieted these feelings for far too long.

He kisses you long and sweet, his free hand coming to cup your face as yours search for stability in his shoulders. He knocks the breath out of your lungs, literally, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Aaron pulls back for just a moment, just far enough to say, “Was that worth a gold star?”

You laugh, playfully swatting his chest. “Yeah, Aaron,” you say, looking up at him. “It was.”

[machapelady]

Bake me a Bun

Soap/Retired!Soap x f!reader Fluff with a slight suggestive line, daydreaming, get this man a baby. Mild stalking(?) I do not know if I should be continuing this ^^ (There will be eventual smut if I keep writing this, also might end up adding some TW because we all know what happens when you tell stories about wounded soldiers) Divider credits go to @vibeswithrenai , lovely work, I recommend checking them out ^^

Johnny is at his roots, a family man. Scottish mead flows through his veins, so does the sweet pie his grandma used to bake.

Before retiring, Soap liked to spend some of his 'vacations' with the whole MacTavish family. Lunch here, brunch there, and kids that flap their pa's kilt just before dinner. He would play chase with the wee lads, loved by his nephews and known as 'Big Uncle'. Often carrying two rascals at a time, or letting losing against them on a hand to hand battle, he was a truly warm and homecoming man.

"John, when ya givin' me sum' wee bairns?" His nan would often ask.

To what his answer would be, between gritted teeth "No bon, no bun, nan. Army giv' no time f'tha"

And so then, he was shot.

Retirement didn't treat him that badly, just gave him a rather permanent headache and a scar on his temple.

Doctors told him to stay put, to enjoy his free time on the hospital' open gardens, the oxygen would do him good they said. But Soap was not a man that would be sitting there, staying still after years of battlefield, movement and stress.

Yet, after trying to get away a couple of times and finally sat down by Price, he took the orders and stayed put like a good kid.

He owed Simon one. The man had managed to push him a fraction away from the bullet trajectory, earning himself a sprained ankle. He would often visit Johnny when free, although for a brief time, dropping telltales of what the squad had been up to. Gaz was the one to stick around most, nagging him about finally being out of the hellhole that being a SAS operator was. They would watch their football together, until nurses told him that they needed to do a check-up.

On a rare sunny day, the whole squad visited him. Price had brought a letter from Alejandro, wishing him the best recovery, and to visit whenever he felt like. The wind almost blew the paper away, sitting in a bench under a tree.

"Bet ya miss us son" John muttered, a tired smile on his face. Soap groaned, rolling his eyes, "honestly, I think I prefer t'share some sweat with yall, rather than this hell of a cell" Even Simon laughed at that.

" 's no sunshine 'round. Bloody white walls fucking strain my eyes every single damn day" He would keep complaining. "I don't miss ya nagging tho" Ghost quipped teasingly.

And so they laughed, walking around looking like a group of old childhood friends that threw shit at each other, being Gaz the one with the most pointy comments "I can't fathom sleep without ya snoring Soap"

Something bumped against Price, earning their stop and a tiny, quiet "sorry" from a tiny, young voice. It was a young lad, no more than six summers at his back. He looked rather scared; faced by an old man, a wounded soldier, a guy with only his eyes visible and a piercing gaze under a cap.

Price squatted "No need to be, lad. Where's ya mum?" The kid shook his head and pointed to a woman, not far away from their position, that was surrounded by kids. She seemed stressed, looking around with wide eyes until she spotted the young boy.

"Oh Matt! Don't go running away like that you little rascal!" She rushed to the kid, and made eye contact with the Captain. "I'm so sorry sir, can't really keep all the kids still sometimes"

"Visit trip?" Price tilted his head slightly, to what she nodded. "We like to show the young ones to respect the injured" Her smile was almost as warm as the sun that day. "They gotta learn more than numbers and letters in school after all"

She took the kid away after apologizing once again, urging the little one to go back with the whole group, that she graciously guided around the hospital garden.

A second pair of blues followed her around as she went by, earning a chuckle from Kyle "Looks like he has a reason to stay here now"

"Hells Bells" The only thing he could say.

For what he could see from his room's window, it was a whole week of field trips for different classes.

To his eyes, she paraded around with the kids, with a sweet smile and warm eyes, showing the little humans things around, be it the entrances, the pond, or making small talk with some old lady that was condemned to stay her last days in that white prison. Like he felt, incarcerated for his health, until the doctors decided his wound and other past poorly healed injuries would not hinder him from having a "normal" life from now on.

For you, you were trying to show the kids some hospitality, to be respectful and appreciate the healthcare and what it could do for the people. For them to listen to the old tales of those veterans in life, or to enjoy the breeze and the grass after walking around for a long time.

Johnny was mesmerized. Completely lost in those warm expressions you always had dancing on your face, or in how you guided the children with caressing palms. Maybe it was the ring of your voice, that now rose above the constant tingle of his newly acquired wound, or the manners that you carried around. He felt strangely isolated in the room, a constant need to go outside and enjoy the grass, of course he wasn't trying to get a chance to talk with you.

Right?

So there he was, again in a bench. And that day he decided to hang his dog tags around his neck. "What a show-off" Simon groaned before saying goodbye couple of hours ago. "Don't come sulking if you scare her away you mutt", and a pat on the back.

It was the same boy as the other day, the one that approached him mesmerized by the shining plates on his neck. Matt sat on the floor, inquiring about what did Johnny do for a living. 'What is that? What do you do? Oh that's so cool!' he would chirp here and there.

Johnny couldn't really say no to the wee thing in front of him, puffing his chest and sharing some of his less-bloodied trips. The puff was taken down by a sudden nervousness when he saw you approaching again.

"Matt how many times do I have to tell you not to go astray from the group" She came already scolding the boy. "Oh, you are from the other day, right sir?"

Ah, she remembered him.

"Just doin' me time in here for a bit" Johnny answered with a boyish smile. "Can't blame the wean, he was all giddy 'n' interested"

"And what might that interest be?" You squatted a bit, poking Matt's cheek. "Miss. L/n this is Soap!" Oh, he got your last name now, maybe Laswell was willing to do some digging as a reward for his honorary actions right? Did he just call you Miss? That in his mind was a Jackpot. "And what does...Mr. Soap do?" She looked at him from bellow, her eyes flickering to his dog tags for a second. "I just tell old tales of sweaty men trying to save the world"

You weren't able to peel Matt from his spot, resigned, decided to indulge in some old stories, bringing the whole group so they could all listen to a veteran's yapping.

"So my mate, you see, big scary man with a mask" He would say, "took'em all down real fast i'm telling ya"

His eyes would often flick from kid to kid, landing on your face. To his delight, you were also caught in his stories, attentive eyes and full focused on how his mouth moved.

"And I was all alone! Havin' to scramble what I could! Bad men trynna catch me but I'm telling yall, nobody cannae stop the Soap" The boasting was impressive. How proud Johnny was of his doings, how he managed to tell his story in Las Almas without mentioning the cartel, or the corruption. "Even took a bloody bullet!" He pointed to his fresh scar, still healing. And that's when he saw your eyes turn somber, rather cold. "Alright kids, Mr. Soap here has lot's of stories, but surely that means he's very tired right? Let's go visit more places around!" After insisting a bit, you peeled the children away from his circle and quickly whispered to him with a disappointed gaze "I do have no doubt on what you did to protect people, but please, showing wounds and violence to children is not appropriate"

When you turned away, he sulked. He had fucked up. Ghost was right, he showed off too much and fucked up big time. He wanted to chase after you, to grab your wrist and apologize. To promise not to use those marks again if it meant seeing your bonnie face.

Yet knowing it would only make it worse, he silently went away, locking himself in the white room and not letting the nurses come in.

"Fucked up" He told Price. "Bonnie thing didn't like when I told the bairns about the bullet"

He earned a sigh, and a folder on his lap. "Didn't Simon tell you to slow down? I'm glad you still got some energy in you, son." Soap cursed under his breath, taking the folder and giving it a quick read. "You know me Sir"

Your whole legal name was there. Education, birthplace, family. Everything. Just a normal civilian, with a normal job. A teacher, the daughter of a warm family.

The folder didn't explain your charming eyes, or the small smiles you would make when a child showed you something. The information didn't do you any beauty, and he was pissed.

He had to hear it from you. Your own name, then his. Then again his name between some whispers or whimpers even. Not long after, Price took him for a walk, trying to pull him away from the constant frown that adorned his forehead.

It was Friday, he could tell you were a bit more energetic than the past day. Guessed it was the last visit you had to bring to the hospital, the last time he would probably see you if he was the one to respect boundaries. But what boundaries if he already had your address and identification number.

"You thinkin' about her still?" Price inquired, sipping on some cheap tea from the cafeteria. "Can't shake it cap. I just cannae. I gotta go tell her I'm sorry or sumthin'" He crossed his arms on his chest, right leg nervously bouncing under the table. "You seen how she look' with the bairns?" That earned a chuckle from the older man.

And bless the heavens he thought, when you entered the room with the group of children, dividing them in groups around multiple tables and asking the barista to make around thirteen milkshakes. You stayed on the counter, counting each quid to later report it to the school.

Price stood up, gave Johnny a pat on the shoulder. "Second try won't hurt you more than the first" He walked away, leaving Soap to shed his personal coat, turning into the homeboy Johnny once more.

"Hey"

You sighed, looking at him. "Sorry 'bout the other day. Got carried away" he mumbled "thought wee things would like something more...thrilling"

"Still not the best thing to say"

"I ken"

"They kept repeating your stories after that." His eyes flickered "Even started calling the other patients by 'sir' or 'ma'am'" Finally you met his eyes, hiding a shudder under your skin feeling like he was seeing right past your soul with those blue gems. This of course didn't pass by him.

"Ya enjoyed 'em?"

"Perhaps"

He leaned in a bit, not yet getting into your space, but enough to give you a tiny whiff of his soft scent. Was it citrusy? Warmth was on it, a little bit fruity but not overwhelming. You could swear there was a tinge of all-in-one shampoo too.

"Okay, yes. I liked your stories." Finally surrendering to his observing gaze, you relaxed on the counter a bit, the barista slowly pulling out the milkshakes. "Still, too bloody for some group of children"

"Hm. You know, even me ol' boss scolded me" The most heavenly chuckle swarmed his ears. "The man with the hat?" Johnny flashed a smirk, eyebrows gathering in the middle giving you an apologizing look and offering you his hand "Johnny's the name"

Johnny helped you bring the milkshakes to the tables, and again started telling his stories. This time with your consenting look, avoiding violence or blood on them.

There was a tiny difference now. His eyes weren't the only ones fluttering between the children and you. Lost in him, in his pearls, sometimes having to scramble your brains to understand his accent and phrasing. Unable to keep eye contact for long, covering your flush by turning your attention to the kids.

You couldn't really lie, he was charming. A warm smile and soft, piercing eyes. A voice that was like silk, but sometimes rugged, unable to ignore how his hands, rather calloused, accompanied the movements of his voice. The dog tags that he still wore, now tucked under his shirt, chain making waves over his collarbone, adorned by a thick and strong neck.

He seemed less proud, and more invested into the stories now. It wasn't about boasting anymore, but a constant fight to keep the kids hooked, and subsequently you too. He bathed proudly on how your cheeks would rose up a bit, or how you fidgeted with the soft fabric sometimes tracing the figures of the funny and childish patterns you wore. He wanted to up the tone, to impress you more like a bird trying to court his counterpart.

But he was a trained man that rarely made mistakes, a quick learner on top of that, not hitting the same rock twice.

Time passed, milkshakes were empty and some kids couldn't keep their eyes fully open. With a rather tired voice, a little raspy from the constant storytelling he chuckled at the wobbly tiny heads in front of him.

"Tired them all" You softly smiled, exhaustion also apparent on your face.

"Do I pass the test, Miss. L/n? Stories good enough?" He leaned slightly against you, a friendly shoulder bump earning another holy chuckle from your lips. "I give you an 8, missed some staging".

"Oh lass, I cannae be doin' backflips and shi- stuff" He corrected himself and tapped to his temple, the scar now healing better "Quite rude to be askin' tha' from a poor wounded soldier"

With a smile, you dismissed him and woke up some of the kids, telling them it was already time to go back home. Some of them whined, wanting to listen to more stories, trying to make you promise for it, something that Johnny eagerly supported, teasing you a bit. Others were completely fried, yawning and rubbing their eyes.

Before leaving the cafeteria, you turned around and thanked him. "Johnny, right? Mine is Y/n" Oh but that he already knew, although it didn't bother him hearing it from your mouth.

What he didn't know was that you would visit him next Monday, taking with you some homemade buns you had made, showing gratitude for his help the past week.

Maybe he didn't fuck up that much, and maybe he could win you over by winning over the kids.

And he was good with children.

[trinkerichi]

What is your oppion on ribbun?

OOOH that's Jax/Gangle right? Oh boy you probably aren't asking for this but I feel like doing a big ramble and this is gonna be a long one. CHARACTER ANALYSIS INCOMING!

I'll preface this by saying I don't usually get too invested in shipping. I really like drawing interesting character dynamics tho, so I'll play around with the ships I see without really sticking to one. It's why I tend to draw a LOT of different ships only a few times each.

I'll ALSO preface by saying I really uh. Don't like Jax very much lmao I'm sorry. I'm not opposed to jerk characters in general, but I just didn't think any of his lines were funny. BUT I think that comes down to the fact that we only have a pilot and haven't seen much of their personalities yet. My favorite jerk characters, (Osomatsu, Bender, etc) all balance out their jerkiness by being dorky insecure losers that almost never win in the end so you kinda feel bad for them. I think if Jax ends up being written that way I'll become endeared to him. And goose has revealed before that none of the others actually like Jax so I kinda want to see that.

On the other hand, Gangle is my favorite character. She has barely 2 minutes of screen time but I love her concept so much. A friend called me out for this recently lol but all my BIG FAVS are characters that are themed around strong divided emotions. Pretending they're happy even when they're not, and having a hard time controlling their emotions as a result. (The latest ENA episode was a great example of this. Anyway.) Gangle being a sensitive flimsy pile of ribbons with a literal mask for a face? The fact that the tragedy mask seems to be her REAL face, while the comedy mask is so fragile that breaks if you so much as breathe on it too hard? I find that COMPELLING I want to see a whole series about her honestly.

Pairing her with Jax was inevitable, as is any fandom ship where the characters hate each other in canon. I usually hate this kind of pairing but this time I found it kinda fascinating! I think it's cause we don't really know a whole lot about either one of them so there's a lot of room to explore their characters through it.

I really do feel like Jax could hold a specific resentment towards Gangle. He's obviously not handling being stuck in the circus well, and he's bullying easy targets. He plays dirty. A person with high self esteem doesn't do that. Maybe he takes it out on Gangle because he hates how open she is about her feelings. He's putting on a tough and uncaring front, trying to pretend nothing bothers him, and she's out here being sensitive and fragile? How dare she! He's pushing her to her limits and she still won't harden herself. She doesn't have the energy to! Maybe she feels like she doesn't deserve to defend herself. It's so unhealthy! It's horrible!... And uh, sometimes horrible things are fun to write! DON'T JUDGE ME.

(And just so nobody accuses me of being insensitive here, without revealing too much, I've been in Gangle's place before. That's all I'll say.)

So with relationship stuff oh boy. We can take all those toxic traits to their extremes. But who would be the instigator?

What if Gangle coped with Jax's bullying by becoming more clingy. Becoming used to it.. Seeking him out. After all, he's paying attention to her right? Her warped self image being depressed and isolated in this circus for years would drive her to wanting any kind of stimulation.. does she realize this is self harm? What's it going to take for someone to step in before it goes too far?

Or on the other hand, what if Jax's fixation on bullying Gangle got mixed up in some more complex feelings.. If he really wanted to, I can see him manipulating her into a relationship just to see how many boundaries he can cross. He could have her wrapped around his little finger. Literally. He DOES have some misplaced affection for her deep down. He won't let himself think about it long enough to understand it, he's acting on impulse. She's uncomfortable but thankful for the seemingly lessened cruelty, so she puts up with it. And sometimes, rarely, between the thinly veiled insults disguised as compliments, he says something truly genuine and vulnerable. She can see it. He needs help. He needs love. But they're both hurting each other even more. It's wrong, but they're stuck now.

And now.. for the drama. Nobody can be pushed that far before snapping. As is the usual trope with soft spoken pushover characters, Gangle is a ticking time bomb. And I don't think she'd be willing to abstract entirely because of Jax, at least without clawing her way down.

Here's a fun fact. Have you seen that walk cycle video? Jax is tall, sure, but Gangle is PRETTY DARN TALL TOO. and she slouches. With her ribbons stretched to their full length she would tower over everybody. I want to see her get angry and be SCARY. I want her to stand up to Jax and lash out and scream and see him Genuinely Terrified. Everyone else caught in the crossfire too, covered in ribbon slashes. It wouldn't last forever. If the tension doesn't cause her to abstract she'll calm down eventually, or someone will be forced to break her mask to snap her out of the tantrum. Jax would pretend it didn't shake him at all, but would be noticeably quiet afterwards. Kinda shifting uncomfortably, they both avoid eye contact for as long as possible. His teasing towards Gangle never goes beyond slight ribbing again.

Whew.

Ok uh if you read this far, I don't LIKE the ship but it's a great character exercise! Hah I've thought a lot about it clearly. That being said, i usually prefer sweet cuddly ships myself. I think my favorite is Gangle/Pomni. I haven't seen this one around much, but those two are my favorite characters in the show and I'd love to see them interact! I think they could help each other with their anxieties and it'd be really cute. I don't even necessarily need it to be romantic I just think they'd have a sweet little dynamic together.

Surprisingly I've seen Gangle shipped with Zooble the most even though they haven't talked at all either and Zooble has like.. 2 lines. It might be cute but I wanna know more about them first.

As for Gangle n Kinger, I prefer them to have more of a father daughter type dynamic.

[jennyyy007]

PLAYTHING 🗝️ pt. 13

Happy birthday!

Cw: Violence, female whumpee, male whumper, punishment, humiliation, degradation, cruel whumper, slave wumpee

── ── ── ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ── ── ──

Mary is cuddled up on her dirty mattress, covered by her thin blanket as she slowly wakes up. Isaac’s heavy footsteps down the basements stairs usually do the job for him. He opens the door before walking straight to the girls cell, unlocking it.

Mary crawls off the mattress before she bows down in front of her captor, kissing his boots.

“Good morning master”

She says just before Isaac steps back again, holding the door open for her.

“Get dressed”

He says in his usual rude tone, tho today he doesn’t seem that disgusted of her…

“Yes master”

Mary says politely as she gets up on her feet and grabs her dress. Tomorrow is wash day! For her and her dress. Mary doesn’t like wash day since the baths are always painful but she’s glad to have some soft clothes after a week of dirty, sweaty fabric sticking to her skin.

After she got dressed Isaac moves his hand in his pocket, getting something out. It’s a long strip of cloth.. what does he want with that?

He moves to wrap it around her head, covering her eyes and Mary immediately tenses up.

“Calm down. It’s just a blindfold. You’ll have a surprise upstairs… don’t worry. You’ll like it this time”

He chuckles before he steps behind her, putting his hands on top of her shoulders just before he leads her up the stairs.

Mary can feel her heart beating heavily. What surprise? What could it be? It can’t be anything bad right? She was good…

The man stops walking, pulling the blindfold off of her face. And what is revealed to the girl makes her jaw drop…

It’s the kitchen table. There’s presents, balloons… and a cake with a candle in the form of the number 18… It’s her birthday… her 18th birthday…

“Happy birthday Mary”

The man says as he gently brushes his hand over the girls head before gently pushing her towards the chair.

“Sit down. You have to blow out the candle”

Mary does as he says. It’s her birthday… She just turned 17 a few weeks ago when she was kidnapped… so she’s almost a year in captivity.

Isaac starts to sing happy birthday for her, ripping the girl from her thoughts. Mary quietly listens as she stares down at the flames of the candle. She’s an adult now…

Isaac claps before he giggles a little.

“Go on! Blow it out”

Mary closes her eyes for a little, making a wish… Before she blows the candle out.

Unexpectedly, a force pushes her head down, straight into the cake. The poor girl whimpers a little before she lifts her head up again just to see a camera pointed at her. Isaac is filming her…

“Sorry. I always wanted to do that. Is it good at least?”

He asks and mary quickly uses her hand to scoop some of the icing off of her face, stuffing it into her mouth.

“Mhm… It’s good master thank you.”

The man nods before he motions to the presents on the table. It’s like this is his birthday.. and Mary is just a puppet he can play with, ordering her around even during such a supposed to be happy moment.

Mary picks up one of the presents, it’s soft… that’s always good. The looks up at Isaac, waiting for his permission just before he makes a small nod.

The girl quickly rips open the paper before she sees something, unable to believe her eyes. It’s a new dress! A pretty pink one with a white apron, no holes or anything!

“Thank you! T-thank you master its- s- so pretty!”

She says smiling before Isaac chuckles.

“You’re welcome darling. You’ll start wearing it tomorrow. I thought I’d give you something new. I can’t look at that disgusting dress anymore. It’s getting too big on you anyway.”

Mary makes a small nod before she picks up another present, opening it. This time it’s something square and harder. It’s a book! But not any book. It’s a diary with a small pen.

“I want you to write down something every day before you go to sleep and the next day you’ll give it to me.”

Isaac really just wants to read the pathetic thoughts in the girls head.

“Yes master.. thank you so much”

Mary makes a small smile before Isaac gives the last present to her, it feels heavier. She rips away the paper before something odd is revealed…

It’s another book and on top it spells… “Slave journal”.

Isaac turns the camera off before he sits down on the chair next to her, opening up the book.

On the first page are pictures of Mary walking around on her college campus just a few days before her kidnapping. And on the side there’s a sheet of her information. Every small detail about her… Her name, age, weight, size, occupation, parents, family, favorite things, hobbies…

Isaac turns another page before she sees a horrific picture… it’s her after her first beating.. covered in blood and passed out on the floor of her cell… she looked so different. Less skinny and her hair was still thick and long..

“Aww.. our first day together. You were so cute”

Isaac coos before he turns the next page. It’s the picture of Mary, naked in the bathtub during her first bath day…

Next page. Her after another beating, the camera focused on her scars and the carved writing on the stomach.

Next page. Her completely drugged and naked lying on the couch next to Isaac….

It’s horrible… he captured so much of her captivity. Disgusting, humiliating pictures…

“Do you like it? It’s not finished yet but next year you’ll get the see the process again!”

Isaac smiles as she shuts the book louder than Mary expected, making her jump.

“I have one last surprise sweetheart”

Isaac says cheerfully before he gets up, grabbing Mary’s wrist and pulling her with him. He sits her down on the couch before he sits down beside her and turning the TV on. A video starts playing. It looks like the news channel but Mary can tell by the date that this report was quite a while ago.

“Good evening everyone. We have an urgent report of a missing case.”

A picture of Mary smiling at the camera appears. It was her mother’s favorite picture of her. She has an adorable pink flower in her hair and she’s so happy on it…

“Seventeen year old Mary Jane Brown has been officially missing since this morning. She has brown hair. Green eyes. And was last seen wearing a black skirt and a white blouse as well as a brown cardigan. Some black tights and black Mary Jane shoes. Anyone who has information please report to your local police department.”

The Video switches to her crying parents.

“We- we just want her back. Please if anyone knows some- something please-“

Her mother sobs. The screen goes black for a second before another video plays. For the next twenty minutes Mary is forced to watch interviews of her family and friends in the past few months. She can’t get up as Isaac is holding her tightly. She can only sob quietly.

The last video has today’s exact date… it must have been from the news this morning…

Her parents appear on the screen once more.

“If you’re out there baby.. We love you so so much. And we haven’t given up yet. Nobody has. They will find you”

Her mother says in tears before her dad speaks.

“Everybody’s looking for you. If you’re out there please hold on okay? We love you… so much.”

Her father says and Mary makes another sob. Her shaking, bruised hands covering her mouth before both of her parents talk again.

“Happy birthday sweetheart”

── ── ── ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ── ── ──

@a-living-canvas

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@theforeverdyingperson @stuffandthingsandandrew

[myreygn]

kny modern au - characters: hashira

includes: gyomei, tengen, giyuu, sanemi, obanai, kanae, kyojuro, mitsuri, shinobu, muichiro

HUGE thanks and shout out to @giggly-squiggily and @trans-ace-lee for their contributions to this au and indulging my brainrots ♡

inspiration was taken from the german school system because that's what i grew up and am most familiar with:

ages 2-6 (flexible, not mandatory): kindergarten

ages 6-10 (grades 1-4): elementary school

ages 10/11-16/17 (grades 5-10): "secondary school", the diploma qualifies you for an education outside of university (craft sector, social sector etc)

ages 16/17-18/19 (grades 11-12): "upper school", the diploma qualifies you for university

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

Himejima Gyomei (27, theology major)

grew up in a buddhist orphanage after his parents gave him up because they were ableist idiots who didn't want to raise a blind child

had a very happy childhood, has never been adopted and isn't upset about it in the slightest

went on a spiritual journey for five years after school and wrote a bestseller book about it

started going to university at age 23, helps out at the orphanage whenever he can

has a seeing-eye dog named Curry (a four year old black labrador and the only being on earth he would kill for, he got her when he returned from his journey)

can afford his own flat and lives right next to the orphanage with Curry

advocate for a more inclusive university life and very active in groups fighting for disability rights, both on and off campus

Uzui Tengen (23, music major)

was somewhat of a public figure from a very young age because the Uzui clan is one the richest, most powerful families in the country and everyone in town knows who they are

always hated his parents and moved out at 18, got a small fortune (that's rich people slang for a ton of money, source: trust me) from a cool uncle and used it to open a night club which is very popular with the locals

has no contact to his siblings (even tho he'd like to) and avoids all of his dad's properties like the plague

started going to university at age 20 because he wanted to do something with his passion

plays a bunch of instruments (piano, harp, guitar, violin, shamizen, koto and like ten different types of flute)

lives with his girlfriends in an almost-a-mansion and throws the best partys anyone has ever been to

Tomioka Giyuu (21, philosophy major)

his parents died when he was three years old and him and his sister went through foster care until she came off age and became his legal guardian, they're super close

has been studying several martial arts at Urokodaki's dojo since he was in elementary school

picked philosophy as a major because he had no idea what else to do but it's actually fun??

he mostly just sits in the back and draws stick figures but once a week he'll say something that makes everyone rethink their entire life (no one really understands what's happening inside his head but his professors are convinced he's a genius)

teaches little kids in the dojo because Urokodaki thinks it'd be good for him, he's slowly warming up to it

the type of peanut allergy where his throat closes up at the sight of them, when they were in fifth grade Sanemi almost killed him because he didn't know about it and it delayed their friendship by roughly two years

Shinazugawa Sanemi (21, physics major)

abusive pos dad got stabbed when he was ten, helped his mom raise his younger siblings and is super close with all of them

moved out at 20 when his mom encouraged him to spend more time at university, roommates with Obanai, Giyuu and Sabito

colorblind from birth and dysgraphic when it comes to handwriting, uses recording devices and laptops in class

used to get into a lot of fights in school and still works on not doing that™, most people think he's scary and a delinquent (and also a murderer because it's kinda sus that none of the family members showed up at their dad's funeral)

biker, the motorcycle has wind art on it and he mostly uses it to pick up the tons of children that somehow snuck into his friend circle and take Kanae on drives, loves bringing his guitar to play her something in the moonlight

suffered through school for the most part, a new teacher (Kagaya) in tenth grade inspired him to finish "upper school" and study physics

loves Gyomei's dog like a daughter

Kocho Kanae (21, biology major)

lives with her family and has no plans of moving out until she finishes university, helps a ton in the household

the best big sister ever, drives all of her sisters and their friends around and picks them up at 3am when they're stranded somewhere (also doesn't pretend to hate it, unlike certain other older siblings with their own vehicles)

has always been into gardening and is really getting into permaculture, puts plants wherever she can and loves flowers

most of her cooking ingredients are from her own garden, vegetarian (everything she cooks or bakes will be the best thing you ever ate)

has the voice of an angel, Sumi, Kiyo and Naho refuse to go to bed without her singing them a lullaby

christmas is her favorite time of the year, she goes all out with planning the festivities and getting everyone gifts and needs three whole days to recharge afterwards

has to wear a biteguard when she's stressed because she'll start clenching her teeth in her sleep and works really hard to keep it a secret from everyone

Iguro Obanai (21, philosophy major)

somewhat of a local legend, not by his own doing but by people just making shit up about him

grew up in a cult of which all the members were killed in a fire with him being the only survivor and a huge news story all across the country at age 12

moved to another city as soon as he was old enough to start anew but the rumors follow him everywhere (and it doesn't help that he talks to his snake)

mostly annoyed by the rumors but also likes to use them to scare people of who are being super pushy or harassing his friends (that's the first time in his life he found friends, he can and will commit atrocious crimes on their behalf)

originally enrolled in zoology, then switched majors when the professors wanted to use Kaburamaru as a test subject

spends his time in philosophy class taking a stance against whatever Giyuu says and has an entire folder filled with essays criticizing his statements

always carries headphones with him, listens to lofi because he likes it, mcr because he feels it in his soul and doom metal solely to fuck with tengen ("Screaming is not music!")

Rengoku Kyojuro (20, history major)

still lives at home with his dad and brother because he didn't want to leave Senjuro behind, spends most of his time out of the house tho and is looking for a flat right now

works parttime at a restaurant that's called Umainia and his friends have yet to figure out whether he says "Umai" all the time because he likes his food or to advertise his work place

slightly hearing impaired, has hearing aids prescribed that he just forgets to put in at all times

doesn't have a driver's license, goes by bike everywhere no matter the weather

gets close to people easily, is well beloved amongst Senjuro's friends and also makes an effort to get to know them so he can be sure Senjuro's in good hands

regularly forgets people's names but never their birthdays

collects old books and learned a bunch of old languages just to be able to read them

Kanroji Mitsuri (19, art major)

still lives at home because she wants to stay with her family and help take care of her siblings, also claims that she had invested too much time in her room to just leave it behind (her room looks like every cool fluffy fairy core room you have ever seen on pinterest, it's the coziest place on earth)

if there's a sanrio themed version of stuff she needs, she's getting it, no questions asked.

slightly allergic to dogs, she doesn't care though and cuddles with Curry all the time, she calls it confrontation therapy (it works)

animal lover in general, she even built a little terrarium in her room so Kaburamaru has a comfy spot for his naps when Obanai stays over

has kept every drawing she ever made and sometimes looks through them for inspiration, also likes to track her progress that way

there's a coffee shop across the street from her house where she has been customer of the month every month consistently for four years as well as an honorary mention ever since she was six

Kocho Shinobu (18, student)

in her last year of school and likely about to graduate with a perfect score

founder and president of the first aid club, also head of the student council and an active member on every committee the school has to offer

recently got her driver's license but keeps it a secret so she doesn't have to play chauffeur for her sisters

effectively avoids getting asked out for dates by being very scary™ (and taking jiu jitsu classes since elementary school), she's also your go to person when creepy weirdos won't leave you alone

loves cooking with her sisters and often shares her own recipes with Kanao, she also has her own little corner in Kanae's garden where she plants stuff that she uses to make her own medicine

has a lot on her plate with school and her clubs and some volunteer stuff she does here and there, so she goes to the local animal shelter once a week to cuddle and play with the cats and dogs there, it's her little safe zone to unwind and she doesn't tell anyone about it

the biggest fan of psychological thrillers you will ever meet

Tokito Muichiro (14, student)

in eighth grade and no one knows how he did it but everyone suspects that his brother took at least some of his exams in his place

he's not bad at school per se but he just can't memorize stuff, you're lucky if he knows your name after sitting next to each other for six months

is a member of the cooking club tho and absolutely thriving there, he never goes by recipe and creates the most delicious things but he won't tell anyone his secret ingredients because he can't remember them either

absolutely loves visiting his friends' houses, he's so happy seeing how their rooms reflect them

followed Yuichiro everywhere all throughout elementary school, then made his first friend in fifth grade (Tanjiro of course) and has been getting more and more independent ever since

constantly misses bus stops or takes trains in the wrong direction and is always late because of it, however he has also acquired an extensive knowledge of the town and can give you directions to pretty much everywhere

tries his very best to remember his friends' birthdays but forgets his own every year because it just kinda slips his mind that he has the same birthday as Yuichiro

[twinkletoeskc]

Untitled Marauders Fanfic Ch. 1

Summary: 3 O/Cs meet accidentally one night at the beginning of term, little do they know secrets of a certain prankster group become unveiled. What feelings will be provoked? What plots will unravel? All will be revealed in due time.

Heavy enemies to lovers trope, multiple relationships, different POVs, found family, toxic relationships, abusive families

Ships: James Potter x O/C, Remus Lupin X O/C, Sirius Black x O/C

Warnings: umm some violence?? Eventual smut tho not yet

A/N: Hi so I’m actually not the author but my friend gave me permission to post on her behalf. Any positive feedback is welcome and let us know if you would like to see more. Also we don’t have a name for it yet either so any ideas with that would also be appreciated. xo

O/C character moodboard:

(Unknown Title) Ch.1

It is uncharacteristically hot on the first of September, and the students start to lose their clothes as they stand around the massive fire burning on the campus green. Kal stands on the outcrop of her friends, watching them all get drunk and couple up to kick off the new term. She watches as a Hufflepuff walks off with another 6-year into the forest, their giggling swallowed by the roar of the fire and the gaggle of excited students.

She yawns, her shirt sticking to her skin from the humidity. One of her friends offers her the dregs of his alcohol, but she declines. He slinks off nonchalantly, and she takes a seat on the hill, surveying the fanfare from above while nestled in the soft grass. A soft breeze brushes her hair off her sweaty neck, and she follows its path, laying back on the grass and looking at the clear sky above.

The sky is vacant of stars, the full moon illuminating the sky and outshining the other heavenly bodies. She closes her eyes against the glow of the moon, its shine remaining even behind her eyelids.

She just gets comfortable when she hears a howl from the forest.

Her eyes open immediately, and she sits up, turning her head in the direction of the dark forest. She looks back at the group of students partying on the green, but none of them seem to have heard what she did. She stands slowly, eyes focused on the line of forest a few hundred yards from her. She pulls out her wand when she hears another howl, the grass crunching beneath her feet as she slowly makes a path to the wood.

She pauses at the tree line, her toes a brush away from the perimeter of the forest. She takes a slow breath. It feels colder here, so close to something forbidden. She takes another step.

The trees behind her almost entirely swallow the light of the bonfire, but she is unafraid. She ventures into the forest boldly, her wand at the ready. She hears the ghost of cries from the other creatures in the forest, and they raise goosebumps on her arms, but they are nothing like what she heard sitting on the green.

She pauses, hearing a rustling in the forest behind her. She turns around frantically.

“Lumos,” she whispers.

Her wand provides scant light in the overpowering darkness of the forest, and she can hardly see what is in front of her.

“Who’s there?” She asks, her voice swallowed by the trees. A branch snaps to her left, and she turns in that direction, her wand on the defensive.

“Fuck off with the sneaky shit.” She swears, her eyes focused on a silhouette shadowed between two trees. Her eyes narrow, and she takes a step forward, raising the light of her wand to see…

A flash of blue streaks past her face, and she swears, stumbling back.

“Did you just try to curse me?” She exclaims, her eyes wide in disbelief. The other girl remains grudgingly silent, stepping out from the canopy of the trees into the wand light. Her wand is also raised, pointed at Kal’s chest.

“What are you doing out here?” Kal asks, taking a step toward her aggressor.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she says, her wand hand steady and trained on Kal, “I saw you sneak off from the party.”

Kal raises her eyebrows, a small smile playing on her shadowed features. “So, you followed me? I’m flattered.”

The other girl scowls, “Don’t inflate your ego. I only came to see what kind of shit you get into in the forest at night like this. Merlin knows what filth you might conspire with.”

Kal snorts, “Those are mighty words. I thought your family respected the House of Black.”

“Not blood traitors like you,” the other girl sneers.

Kal frowns, “Who says I’m a blood traitor?” She asks. The girl nods to the Gryffindor emblem on Kal’s shirt, “Look where you were sorted. All the great Blacks have been in Slytherin. The only ones who aren’t are you and your shithead little traitor of a cousin—”

The girl is interrupted as a jinx flies narrowly past her face and into the space between the trees beyond. She gasps, her confidence thrown as Kal opens her mouth to spit out another curse. She, however, pauses as a squeal echoes through the night.

Both girls stop, their bravado dampened as the squeal reverberates through the trees. They exchange glances before the two of them slowly make their way through the wood to where the noise came from.

Kal raises her wand to provide light, and nearly screams when the Hufflepuff girl she saw sneaking off from earlier suddenly emerges from a crop of trees. She is out of breath and flustered, her lipstick smudged on her face and her hair a mess. Kal frowns, “Have you… been snogging in the forbidden forest?” She asks, incredulity leaking into her voice.

The Hufflepuff looks at her assuredly, “Obviously. Which one of you whores jinxed my date?”

The two girls exchange wavering glances before another howl cracks the silence of the night.

“Shit!” The Hufflepuff exclaims, and the two girls shush her fervently.

“What in the bloody hell was that?” The Hufflepuff exclaims.

“I don’t know, that’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Kal explains.

“And it’s why you shouldn’t be in the fucking forest anyway,” the other girl continues, chastising the Hufflepuff.

Another howl reverberates through the air, and this time it sounds closer. The girls slowly inch closer to each other, back-to-back to see around them at all angles.

They hear movement in the darkness ahead of them, and another howl echoes above. Kal swallows a scream as a creature runs through the darkness, the pads of its paws slamming against the hard earth. The Hufflepuff covers her eyes as the creature runs upon the girls missing as it transforms mid-stride from animal to man.

Kal gawks at the disheveled figure, “Sirius?”

Sirius’s eyes are wide with frustration, “Kalliope?” He growls, running a hand through his dark hair. The Hufflepuff girl peaks through her fingers, “Do you two… know each other?” She asks.

“She’s my cousin.” Sirius says, nodding to Kal. Kal flinches at their family link spoken so openly, scowling into the dark.

The Slytherin girl eyes Sirius warily, her brain visibly working behind her eyes. Sirius meets her gaze, shuffling uncomfortably on his feet.

“The fuck are you three doing out here?” Sirius asks urgently, “Do you know what tonight is?”

The Hufflepuff blinks, “It’s… the start of term.” A howl rings close to them, and the Hufflepuff cries out, clutching onto the Slytherin girl. The other girl grimaces but lets her hold onto her arm as she readies her wand with the other hand.

Sirius is visibly nervous, looking around the group warily. “No, you fumbling idiots, it’s a full moon!”

The Slytherin’s eyes widen, “Wait…” She mumbles.

A near growl vibrates the dirt beneath their feet. “Shit…” Sirius whispers, his body tensing defensively. Kal’s eyes widen, following Sirius’s gaze into the forest.

“Is there a werewolf in the forest?” The Slytherin asks, looking at Sirius. He ignores her as the growling draws closer, “Merlin, please…” He prays silently. The Hufflepuff stiffens, her fingers digging painfully into the arm of the Slytherin girl. Branches creak near them, and Sirius growls, “Remus!” he calls out. Kal’s jaw drops, “Remus?” She asks, and the Slytherin girl continues, “Lupin’s a werewolf?”

“I knew it!” The Hufflepuff whispers in the midst of her terror just as something charges out of the darkness.

The groups scatters, and the werewolf pounces. He lands on the Slytherin girl, his weight swallowing her scream.

“Remus, no!” Sirius yells, shifting into a shaggy black dog. The werewolf raises a paw, slicing across the Slytherin’s face. Sirius pounces on Remus, their bodies crashing together. Snarls and growls fill the night as the two boys roll around on the grass, biting and scratching at each other.

Tears mingle with the blood dripping drown the Slytherin girl’s face as she frantically shuffles backward on the grass.

“Come on!” Kal says, lifting the girl off the ground. She grabs the Hufflepuff girl’s arm, running away from the scene before them. They run blindly into the forest not knowing which way it out. The Hufflepuff screams again as a figure cuts across their path.

James Potter looks at them frenziedly, stopping them in their tracks. “What the hell are you three doing? Do you know—”

“Do you know what tonight is?” Kal mocks him, “Yes we are well aware that it’s a full moon, thank you.” They can still hear the boys fighting in the distance, their roars of rage slowly making their way closer to the group.

“Damnit,” James whispers, stepping forward and grabbing Kal’s hand. She jerks back, but his grip tightens. His blue eyes meet hers with intensity, “You better bloody well hold on if you want to get out of here.” He says. She opens her mouth to respond, but he begins running. She’s tugged along in tow, her hand in his. The other girls follow desperately, their footsteps loudly crunching through the dead earth under their feet.

The Hufflepuff nearly sobs when they reach the edge of the forest, the bonfire once again in their sights. They can still hear the wolf and the animagus behind them, seemingly drawing closer with each beat of their feet.

James gives Kal a final push through the edge of the forest, “I though the Blacks were meant to be smarter than this.” He snaps, turning to address the situation within the forest.

“Fuck you, Potter!” Kal yells into the darkness. The Slytherin wobbles on her feet, blood smearing on her shirt. The Hufflepuff desperately attempts to alleviate the situation, trying to keep the Slytherin upright.

Kal turns to the other girls, sighing dejectedly. “Happy beginning of term…” She mumbles to herself.

“Well, well, well…”

Someone limps slowly over the crest of the hill; she can hear the greasy smile in his voice.

“What do we have here?” Filch asks, holding up his lantern with a wide grin.

The Slytherin collapses.

The Hufflepuff starts crying.

Kal buries her head in her hands, “Damnit…”

[reanbowful]

“something on my face?”

if you catch them staring at you

(donald, ben, jake, gerard, wolf, teddy, jimmy)

donald na / na baekjin

“Donald Na.”

Winning an award was more or less nothing short of an average Tuesday for Donald.

He walked over to the podium but almost stopped in his tracks when another name was called out.

“This year, we have two gold medalist due to both participants achieving the same perfect score.”

You walked over to the podium with confident steps, a bright smile plastered on your face.

Donald hadn’t realized that he had actually stopped in his tracks when you glanced back at him from the top of the podium.

Exchanging glances with the teacher in front of you, you gestured for him to come up.

One awkward moment later, the two of you received your awards. Donald not taking his eyes off of you for longer than he has to bow.

“Hey.”

You turned towards him, clutching the award tight in your hand.

“Next time, only one of us will receive the award.”

“Well, if it’s not me it’s you right?”

As you left the school grounds, Donald smiled to himself. He might just found a new playmate.

ben park / park humin

Now we all know that Ben ain’t slick.

It will be at a school festival at your school that promotes free food if you can finish them in under 60 seconds.

Ben who saw the ad while walking back home was safe to say intrigued.

He would take Alex or Gerard to accompany him there.

He finished the entire pizza in one bite, 20 seconds no problem. Impressing everyone in the booth, including you.

“That was amazing! Did you like the pizza?”

Now here’s where he gets.. distracted. He just kind of gasped when you came up to him and loses his train of thoughts for a second.

Pretty.

“Pretty.. GOOD! P-pretty good! I like the pizza pretty good. Yea.. it was- uh it was good.”

Alex and Gerard are probably teasing him all the way back from your school. But it doesn’t matter though, since he gets to have your number (you were the person in charge of that booth).

jake ji / ji hakho

You guys are reading manga together in the empty school library after school.

Well you guys promised to do your homework but Jake got distracted while going through the racks of journals he should have been looking at. Instead he checked out the manga racks that just got stocked up.

So that’s how you ended up ditching your school works.

While you were getting to the interesting bit of the chapter you were reading, you let out a small giggle of excitement. Tucking a strand of your hair behind your ears to see the words more clearly.

Through the corner of his eyes, Jake’s eyes darted towards you. Not forgetting to cover half of his face with the manga tho.

He never noticed that you looked so.. cute?

He failed to notice that he has been staring at you, when you finally looked up at him, still chuckling from the passage you read.

“Huh? Why are you looking at me?”

I feel like he would probably dodge the question and make a joke out of the whole situation.

“Ah? Oh. I was just wondering what was so funny! HAHA!”

That was what he said.

Inside he’s probably like: dammitdammitdammitdammit

gerard jin / jin gayool

He’s probably my favorite out of this whole entire prompt.

You guys are hanging out at his house, him playing a guitar lazily while you play with your phone on his bed.

Throughout your relationship you guys have developed a comfort in just being in each other’s presence. Sharing the silence when no words are needed.

As he plays a tune, you bobbed your head along. He watched you with a bit of an amusement, matching your tapping feet to his guitar strum.

Eventually, he let out a small chuckle which makes you shift your gaze from your phone towards him.

You gave him a suspicious narrowed eyes which made both him and you chuckle even more.

“What are you scheming?”

Gerard is one of the most chill dude out there. He will probably be quite suave about it.

“Nothing- Sorry babe, I’m usually good at that.”

wolf keum / keum seongje

Ngl I’m sticking to my Wolf x second year reader agenda xixi

Anyways, the two of you are in your classroom where he agreed to meet you after class to talk about some school organisational stuff Wolf could hardly care about.

Why should he give a single shit towards whether or not Ganghak gets a better promotion? He could care less if the entire building went down in flames overnight.

So just know that he’s doing this for you. And that you’re SO damn lucky he likes you.

“I was thinking maybe we could do a two days bazaar. Since three is way too long. And for the stands I have a list of venues we can contact-“

See, he honestly isn’t even paying any attention to what you were saying. No, no he was staring at your lips.

Wolf might not be weak, but you really surprise him with how low he could go sometimes.

“-lf. Wolf.”

Your voice brought his attention back to your eyes where your brows had scrunched a bit and you were leaning more towards the table, exposing a bit of skin.

“Sorry, noona. I was just thinking about something.”

Well let’s just say it’s better you don’t know the image that’s playing in his head.

teddy jin / jin taeoh

Ah yes, the certified tsundere.

While walking home from school, you, Teddy and, Rowan came across a stray cat on top of a chair.

The thing is, it was sitting on the chair—like a human. (this is something I have seen with my own two eyes)

You found that interesting as hell so you took out your phone and started to snap a few pics.

The cat seems to take an interest in you and leaned it’s body forward. Pawing at your hand.

“Aww. Look at you, you’re so adorable!”

Entranced by the cat’s cute antics, Rowan would try to pet the feline without prior knowledge whatsoever on handling one.

Dude literally would smack his hand on the poor thing’s face.

Teddy grimaced. While you immediately take the cat into your arms before Rowan could seriously injure it.

“Why the hell are you so rough with him?! Are you a kid? Hmm it was uncomfortable wasn’t it, kitten? Yes it is? Bad Rowan bad!”

Giggling as you pretend to let the kitten hit Rowan, you scratched the bottom of the cat’s chin.

Teddy watched the way you handled the small kitten with such gentleness. Boy was whipped instantly.

I bet his type is definitely someone who cares a lot about animals.

Noticing his gaze on you, you turned. Scheming for a way to tease him. (he seems fun to tease ngl)

“Hm? Kitty, look at Teddy-oppa. He’s staring at youu~”

Man choked on his spit :)

“O-oppa?! Where did you even- Ugh. Forget it. And for your information I wasn’t staring at you! I was just spacing out goddammit!”

“But Teddy, she never said you were staring at her.”

RIP Rowan.

jimmy bae / bae jihoon

Jimmy is a very prideful individual, so don’t expect much from him. (or can you?)

To be honest you can kind of see this coming.

Jimmy had to service his broken phone’s lcd, Jack needed to pick up some toiletries, and you wanted to check out your favourite bakery’s new release menus.

It was mutual interest that got all three of you going to the same mall. So you went there together after school.

The three of you had an argument on where to go first as you all think that your stuff is the most important.

You argued that the bakery usually has a long line and you don’t want to miss out after coming so far for it.

Jack was cool with everything, but Jimmy is Jimmy.

Eventually, you decided to part ways after deciding that it’s pointless to waste your breath arguing with the personification of pride.

And just as you thought, there was a long long line in front of the bakery already. There’s just no way you’re gonna get those cakes now.

Begrudgingly you went back to find the boys when Jimmy showed up in front of you with a white paper bag.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop worrying already? Just follow my instructions and shit will work out for you.”

It was the bakery’s newest menus. Each and every single one of their newest flavours.

“You- You.. where did you get these..?”

He preordered those cakes for you babe. (bet you didn’t expect that!)

“Look, do you want it or not?”

Taking the paper bag from his hand, you hugged them to your chest as you squealed happily.

And Jimmy, he tried his best to suppress the smile that’s curling on his lips at the thought that he was the one making you that happy. (well it was the cakes but whatever he was the one that got them)

Well, once you face him back, that smile is gone. Replaced with a scowl instead.

“Alright shut your yapping. Let’s go find Jack.”

[doomednarrative]

What do you think of Geats ending that you feel doesn't stick the landing?

I'm going to answer this with the assumption that you are asking me in good faith and not looking to start a fight, and I feel the need to say that considering how people acted in my inbox last time I gave any longer thoughts reguarding Geats. If that's the case then I'm more than happy to talk about my critiques.

(Though bear in mind that it's been almost a year since I watched the series now so I might be a lil spotty on details.)

I think the thing with the ending that bothered me most now that I've had time to sit on it is that making Ace into an Actual God makes him feel more distant as a protagonist. Why did he struggle so much through so many lives if he doesnt Also get to rest and enjoy finally seeing those efforts thru with the first friends hes managed to make during all that time yknow? And I know he makes a point to say that like it's Not his fight anymore, he's passing it off to Neon Michinaga and Keiwa, but like. I still don't enjoy that tbh.

The thing that kills me is that like, after watching Ex Aid especially (which I overall enjoyed much more and has become my favorite of the Riders I have seen, and can compare since it's also Takahashi's work with similar tropes), is that I don't feel like we had the same problem with the likes of Emu even tho he's supremely overpowered compared to everyone else. In that show, it does become a Combined effort to end things. Emu couldn't have done it without Parad as his copilot to properly make Muteki work, and Muteki wouldn't even exist had Kuroto not made the gashat in the first place, that one couldn't be manifested like lv 99 could. Emu very much retains his humanity even with being very different to everyone else, and I really wish that could have been the same for Ace for Geats as well.

That's the Main thing that I wasn't as happy with about Geats ending. It wasn't my favorite, but I could at least accept it cause it still sorta works at the end of the day. The problem is that it's not the only thing in the last 10 episode stretch that I disliked, which made it feel like the icing on a cake that started really strong and turned out disappointing the more you ate.

I also disliked:

The entire set up with Keiwa's dark arc, especially how he was complicit in made Tsumuri suffer for the power he gained (I'm tired of seeing woman specifically suffering in Takahashi shows to forward the men's stories and just in rider in general.)

Neon both only getting a half suit final form in comparison to the guy's full suit upgrades, and the added idiocy of her arc conclusion coming from her fuckin father of all things when her entire story to that point had been finding love from the people who didn't abuse her her entire life. It felt shitty coming from someone who was also struggling with the same family issues at the time of watching, and I Know there are cultural differences at play here so I can't fully critique that like a Japanese fan could, but it personally soured my viewing of the show and for Neon's story in particular.

All in all, Geats is a show that I still enjoy for my own reasons (mainly Michinaga and Ziin) but has fallen in my rankings after seeing better shows in the franchise. If other people feel differently then that's fine and to each their own. This is solely my own personal opinions on it all.

[dragonnwriter]

Inviolable Bindings

Aemondxfem!OC and Aegonxfem!OC

All Chapters Here!

Chapter 40

**NSFW 18+**

Holding the meeting both under the cover of nightfall and once the busyness of the castle had slowed seemed to make the most sense. Viserra mostly felt dread in anticipation of it all, but found distraction in rehearsing each way she thought things might go. There was not much known about the dealings of the Master of Whisperers and in truth she did not know how to appeal to whatever sense of loyalty or desires that drove him.

Another council meeting had been called in the afternoon and it was after that she approached him. He seemed more than eager to meet with her privately, something that somehow both did and did not surprise her. Just before the hour of the owl he would come, giving her strict instructions to wait in her rooms until that time came.

As she sat on the edge of the sofa by the fire, the hours of the night could not have passed any slower. When she had almost lost hope that he would come, her focus shifted from the dancing flames to the faint sound of grinding stone from behind the large tapestry on the wall. The moment she realized Larys had come from the passageways within the walls, her stomach dropped. This should not have been a surprise that he had known about them. Yet somehow, it still made her uneasy.

“Good evening, My Lady,” he greeted in such a casual manner that it did nothing but reinforce her unease. He took his time making it over to the other armchair across from her, the smile on his face not faltering for even a second.

“Good evening, Lord Larys.” Viserra forced a smile in return, realizing now that she had initiated the start of a game she wasn’t sure she wanted to be playing.

“I thought there might be an point in which you would seek me out,” he began. “You have maintained a quiet yet respected presence since arriving here in King’s Landing, something I truthfully did not expect.”

It took a moment to comprehend what he had meant and it must have been the brief confusion on her face that caused him to elaborate more.

“I have heard many things about you over the years since word of your dragon reached across the Narrow Sea,” he explained. “The Volantene girl besting men in the pits at the age most girls were hoping to find themselves in the eye of some other young lad.” Larys paused for a moment as if giving her time to respond before continuing. “Much was in these letters detailing your skill with the sword and the rumored dragon you mounted and flew about the Free Cities. But honestly, I did not know how much truth there was to it all.”

“ You were the one responsible for summoning me here.” Viserra realized, her words more of a statement than a question. She had quickly come to the conclusion that it was not the late King’s idea to bring her to the Red Keep, but she did not think it had gone further than Otto.

“Indeed, I was the one who presented it to the Hand…well, the previous Hand.”

“I see,” she observed.

“Though with all the talk of the fighting you have done, and even the injuries you survived.” Larys brought his finger to his chest, dragging it to his hip in the same fashion of her own scar that crossed her belly. “No one happened to mention that you also were of striking Valyrian beauty.”

Viserra’s eyebrows furrowed at the comment on her appearance. The way the man was spoke to her did nothing but further her dislike of him. “Is there something that would lead you to think I might appear otherwise?”

“I presume my focus was solely on the logistics and probability that the rumors were true. It completely evaded my mind, I admit. If I had known beforehand, I might have anticipated Aegon’s interest in you.” He tapped his finger on the cane held firmly in his hand, briefly glancing at the stick before looking back. “But do you know what really took me by surprise? That his brother seems just as infatuated with you.”

This was the second time she had been confronted about both Aegon and Aemond. Though in truth, she thought the first could hardly count. Alicent had not been able not even get the words out of her mouth, holding fast to the hopefulness that denial gave her.

Looking back at Larys, she felt the weight of his gaze that pierced right through her. In defense, she folded her arms across her chest. “What of it?” She retorted.

“I am truthfully quite impressed,” he admitted, shifting in his seat. “You have had a significant influence on both of them yet no one has really seemed to notice.”

Inhaling slowly, she was unsure if his words had been meant as an accusation. “Do you doubt that my intentions have not been for the good of the realm, Lord Larys?” she replied, her voice steady despite the irritation that had begun burning in her chest.

Larys nodded, his expression unchanging. “Of course not. I believe that your heart does not desire the power of the throne. Unlike most here, you were not drawn to the pit of vipers that attempt to snake their way in for their own personal gain.”

“I did not come here to seek out the throne,” she repeated, making sure they saw eye to eye on such a treasonous concept . “I have no desire to be shackled to the responsibilities that come with such power.”

“Indeed,” he paused. “Though I also believe you do not play amongst the vipers because you are twisted in your own web made between the three of you.”

Viserra’s brows furrowed as he doubled down on the accusation. “It is quite the precarious position to be in, I assure you. Yet it is something I cannot explain to someone who is unlike any of us,” she narrowed her eyes. “Someone who does not know what it is like to be driven by such fire in your veins.”

Humming thoughtfully, Larys seemed to consider her words. “I do not claim to understand them, my dear. Such things have been happening between Targaryens for as long as the histories have been written.”

Viserra pursed her lips, irritated that things had shifted so far from what she had hoped would be discussed between them. “This is not why I asked to meet with you, Larys.” She enunciated his name in an attempt to level the playing field. “Though I am sure you have enjoyed revealing the depth of your knowledge to me, my concerns are for Helaena and the children’s safety,” she confessed in an attempt to address her original intentions. Surprisingly, it took little effort to shift the direction of the conversation.

“That fear is not unfounded.” Larys agreed. “But what does this have to do with me?”

Viserra scowled but ignored his attempt at appearing ignorant. “I worry that if we are to lose this war and Rhaenyra takes the city, she will not be merciful to the Queen and her children.”

“Another has also come to me with this concern,” he paused, evident that he was now interested in what she had to say. “What do you propose?”

“My father holds significant status and power in Volantis,” she began. “He would be able to secure their safety if they could reach the city.”

For the first time, Larys’ face dropped his usual nonchalant facade and shifted into one of careful consideration. “I am listening.”

“I do not have the means to get them there,” she admitted. “I do not even have the means to confidently get a letter into my father’s hands without risk of interception. But this is why I have come to you.”

There was a long pause, both sitting quietly in the room listening only to the fire crackling. Viserra felt hopeful for the first time in this meeting as she carefully studied the way Larys processed her words.

“I must say I am surprised that amidst all that is brewing within these castle walls, your concern for the girl and her children are what you have come to me for.” He did not attempt to hide the curiosity in his voice, again tapping on the cane as if he were contemplating her intentions.

“I have written a letter,” she hesitated, aware of the high stakes that she played with. “It is written in Valyrian and no names are used to put us at risk. But it must reach my father discreetly.”

Larys leaned forward, extending his hand in a silent request for said letter.

Viserra let out a forced exhale but did not offer it to him. The parting words of her father again sounded in her mind. She knew that this did not come without risk but found peace with the decision knowing she was not going into it ignorantly.

“What would you ask in return?” She inquired, realizing that if he were to help her she would most likely owe him a debt.

Larys’ smile returned to his face, widening as he paused while thinking over her question. “A favor, to be named at a later date. And only once you’ve received confirmation of your letter’s delivery.”

Viserra met his eyes with furrowed brows. The thought of agreeing without knowing the debt she owed only worsened her unease. It was a deal full of potential consequences yet she knew she would go to great lengths to secure the safety of Helaena and the two children.

Rising to her feet, she finally offered him the letter, watching carefully as he tucked it into his pocket. Without another word and only a small nod of his head, Larys took his leave from the room, but this time through the chamber doors.

Though only lasting a few minutes, the interaction had left her feeling exhausted. Both the weight of the agreement and the disgust she felt being in the same room as that man felt unbearingly heavy. She allowed herself a moment to collect her feelings before collapsing on the bed and burying her head in her hands.

Eventually, she forced herself to stop ruminating on it all, realizing that the sun would be rising in only a few hours. Discarding her shoes and her dress in a heap on the floor, she crawled into the blankets and shut her eyes.

Sunrise came sooner than she hoped and the hours she had spent sleeping were not restful. The harsh light and noises of her chambermaids scurrying about in her room seemed to sour her mood before her feet even touched the ground.

Viserra dressed quickly and found she had little patience for Elia fixing her hair into anything but a simple braid. After securing the blade to her hip over the plain silk gown, she didn’t even care to take a look at herself in the mirror before leaving her rooms.

Before she could even reach the bottom of the Serpentine Steps, one of the Kingsguard had found her to inform her that the Small Council was being summoned once again. Knowing that she would not be able to break her fast before being required to attend the meeting only worsened her mood further.

The council assembled quickly but it was Alicent’s attendance that piqued Viserra’s curiosity. She had not come to the last few meetings yet today she seemed eagerly at attention. But as Aemond and Cole began with their explanation of plans to leave for Harrenhal on the morrow, it became clear that this was the first Alicent had heard of it. The concern radiated from her body and remained almost palpable until the meeting concluded.

“Our focus is clear and sure.” Aemond said confidently. “My uncle represents our greatest threat. There is no better time to act than now.”

Alicent had stayed silent until then, but as everything came to a close she could not continue to hold her tongue. “Do you understand the risks, Aemond?” She whispered through her teeth. Viserra watched carefully but did not intervene.

“I am aware, Mother. But we must act before the dragonseeds join with Daemon and they come to take the city.” His voice was low, and it was clear that he did not care for her concerns. “We cannot let fear dictate our course.”

The room was suddenly silent and the air filled with tension between them. Alicent seemed to be the only one who had a problem with his intention to leave, or at least she was the only one to speak up against it. Frustrated, she looked next to Viserra as if she were silently pleading for her to step in and agree. Alicent did not know it, but she had already protested his decision to go and she knew that the concerns only fell on deaf ears.

The council hurried their dismissal, not wanting to become caught in the middle of whatever was happening. Though as Viserra turned to exit herself, she took one last look back to see Alicent still relenting at her son. This was a hopeless battle she would need to fight alone. 

Walking back through the hallways, she let the pleasant aroma coming from the kitchens draw her in. If anything, she might try and lift her mood with a treat. The combination of being tired and hungry wouldn’t do her or anyone else favors. Having skipped a morning meal, she eagerly grabbed one of the freshly baked hand pies and held conversation with a few of the kitchen ladies there.

Once satisfied and finding herself in a much better mood, Viserra began making her way back through the Keep. As she finally entered the safety of the Holdfast, her mind deviated from her original plans and she instead found herself in front of the King’s chambers. Without Alicent there to dissuade her from bothering her son, she thought she might take the chance to seek out another moment with Aegon.

The guards acknowledged her with a nod as she slipped through the doors. For mid morning, the room was rather dark and she quickly made her way to the large windows to open the curtains. Aegon did not flinch as the sunlight crossed the room and onto the large bed. For a moment, she studied the peaceful expression on his face, something so different than what was happening beyond his walls.

Against her better judgment, she climbed onto the bed beside him, supporting herself on her elbow and just savoring the quietness of the moment. She began to run her fingers through his hair, brushing the strands from his forehead and realized even then, he did not stir. It was obvious that he was medicated that morning and knowing he remained so sedated, she began mindlessly telling him of Aemond’s plans and her worries about them.

The exhaustion from the previous night quickly caught up with her as she laid in the quiet room. Listening only to Aegon’s steady breathing, she realized that if she let her eyes close for even a moment, she would most likely fall asleep.

The sudden clatter of something hitting the hard floor caused Viserra to snap back to reality. Looking over her shoulder, she realized that Grand Maester Orwyle and his young apprentice now stood in the doorway. While the young boy seemed very much surprised, the Grand Maester did not divert from his calm demeanor.

“My apologies, My Lady. I had not been informed of your visit,” he remarked in a curiously neutral tone.

For whatever reason, Viserra felt slightly defensive for being so caught off guard. “I was not aware that I needed your permission to visit,” she retorted, sitting back up and bringing her legs off the side of the bed.

He ignored her response but continued on with his intentions. “The King was awake in the early morning, but he had taken more milk of the poppy in preparation for us to change his bandages,” he explained.

“Very well. I have no intentions to be in your way as you care for him,” she spoke, standing quickly then making her way past them out the doors. As she passed them, the young boy did not dare meet her eyes, yet the Grand Maester delivered what felt like a forced smile.

After leaving the King’s chambers, she did not feel the need to find herself in any more unpleasant situations. And as soon as she closed her own chamber doors, she plopped herself down on the familiar and soft sofa. She pulled the blade off of her hip and removed it from its scabbard, holding it above her head playfully and smiling at the way it reflected in the day's light. Even laying there on her back, the heaviness of the sword was balanced perfectly. Admiring the craftsmanship and the distinct pattern of Valyrian steel, she was reminded that this blade had yet to see the chaos of real battle in her own hands.

Viserra let out a sigh, resheathing it carefully before placing it beside her against the sofa. The anticipation of Aemond leaving for Harrenhal on the morrow weighed heavily on her mind. For now, there were no questions about anyone’s location and if they were safe. But come tomorrow, Aemond would begin the march up north and those remaining in the Keep would go days between knowing where and how he was.

To stay distracted and out of her own thoughts, Viserra found a few mundane tasks to occupy herself with until she was unexpectedly called to the dining hall. She had suspicion that they would eat supper that night together, and in any other circumstance she would have found it enjoyable.

From the moment she entered the dining hall, she was greeted with the same tension they had left in the Small Council chambers. Alicent did not even have to speak to relay her unsaid disapproval, her usual regal composure was not enough to mask the depth of her concern.

Aemond, in contrast, did not seem to acknowledge the solemn mood of anyone else. Wearing the Conqueror’s crown neatly on his head, he was completely unbothered by the weight of the next day. Each time Viserra drew her attention to him, she found the corners of his mouth just slightly upturned and a brightness in his eye that could not be dimmed.

Finding the wine unusually sweet that evening, Viserra allowed herself a few cups in an attempt to bring herself to Aemond’s level. It was only after requesting her third refill did she finally feel herself relax and be able to be present in the moment. Mayhaps she would share the same excitement, if only she had been leaving with him.

Not wanting to linger any longer than she needed, Alicent had been the first to depart. Walking to Aemond first, she left  a heartfelt kiss on his head before turning to head out the doors. He watched her leave and turned to continue with his dinner without missing a beat. After sitting a few more moments with only the clanking of the silverware sounding in the room, Viserra realized that he was now eyeing her as she finished the last of her cup of wine. With his eyebrow raised, he stood gracefully and made his way over to where she was seated.

At first, she watched him with suspicion, not sure of his intentions. Yet when he extended his hand out, she found herself taking it without a second thought. He helped her rise to her feet and a wave of dizziness washed over her. Despite the reminder of the wine’s effects, she was acutely aware of Aemond’s arm slipping around her elbow and the closeness they now shared.

They walked the familiar path back through the corridors and Viserra leaned onto Aemond’s shoulder, not caring if anyone saw them. As they approached the doors to her own rooms, his grasp on her arm remained firm and he kept a steady stride as they passed.

“Unless you wish to retire to bed this evening, come with me,” he spoke, knowing that she would indeed not wish for that.

Bringing her other hand up to hold his arm as well, she let her willingness to keep walking speak for itself. The last cup of wine she had finished in the dining hall felt like it had taken effect and her face felt irritatingly flushed. Looking up to Aemond as he opened the doors to his chambers, she realized that much of her worry and concern about him leaving was rooted in her desire to join him.

As soon as they were in the safe isolation of the dark room, Aemond shut the doors and the rest of the world out. Immediately heading over to the bed, he sat down and watched as she remained standing across the room. A pang of irritation, or mayhaps a bit of jealousy, washed over her, yet he met her with a smug smile as they sorted out the dynamic of this interaction.

Viserra was grateful for the wine as it made it easy to enjoy a bit of tension between them. Her lips mirrored his with a smirk and she finally walked over. As soon as she was within arms reach, he wrapped his arms around her bottom half before pulling her in between his legs.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still while neither of them looked away or attempted to make another move. It was only when Viserra darted her eyes up to the crown sitting on his head that he gave her waist a tight squeeze.

“It looks better on me than it ever did on him,” he proclaimed, his eye dark and full of fire.

The remark caused Viserra to purse her lips and grab him by the chin. “Aemond,” she warned. While she often would entertain his bold statements, she refused to indulge in a comment such as that. Especially in light of Aegon waking the day before.

Undeterred, he met her with another self assured smirk. There was no denying the certain allure that his confidence seemed to draw in. But that was something she would not admit out loud, even if it stirred her own fire within her.

Viserra narrowed her eyes, her grip on his chin tightening as she lifted it up to intensify the warning gaze. Yet as he took in her flushed cheeks and the scowl on her face, he could not help but enjoy her reaction, his smirk widening.

"Somehow, I can’t imagine you any less arrogant," she remarked, her tone softening just slightly as she let go of his chin and found her hands a place on his shoulders.

Aemond’s mouth parted slightly and it was obvious that his confidence was bolstered by her words. Placing his hands on her hips, he pulled her in even closer. “And what does that say about you?” He asked, his voice low and laced with amusement.

Her cheeks flushed a shade darker as she felt the heat course through her veins. Leaning in closer, she let her lips graze the top of his ear. “It does not matter,” she whispered.

His grip on her tightened and she felt his fingers dig into her hips. “I’d say we are two sides of the same coin.” His voice dropped even lower and with one hand, he unlatched the belt holding her blade to her body.

She looked down to watch him disarm her, but as she brought her eyes back up, he wasted no time in taking her lips with his. The heat between them was tense yet they burned together just the same. Deepening the kiss, Viserra lost the desire to discuss anything that involved both him and their position in the Realm.

Without breaking their lips apart, she climbed her way onto his lap, not bothering with adjusting her skirts. His fingers began to work at the laces on the back of the dress and she felt the loosening of the fabric on her shoulders and chest. Returning the favor, she quickly undid the line of buckles on his tunic and helped him shrug it off.

Viserra found her patience to be limited as she broke the kiss in an attempt to hasten the removal of their clothing. Without asking or waiting for permission, she brought her hands up to remove the patch, careful to not disturb the black and rubied crown still sitting neatly atop his head.

Throwing it aside, she let herself admire the shirtless man in front of her, unable to suppress a smile as she took in the beauty of his scarred face. Aemond mirrored the gesture, though he wore something more of a smirk. His hands came up and carefully lifted the crown from his head, but rather than placing it down beside them, he brought it up to position it upon hers.

Wide eyed and silent, Viserra searched Aemond’s face for any hint of what was going through his mind. He appeared to take great delight in the sight of her wearing nothing but the crown before him. Gently, his thumb reached up to pull at her bottom lip, slowly tracing a line all the way down to her navel.

Though overall Viserra had managed to remain composed, the gooseflesh that suddenly riddled her skin gave away the desire and arousal she was feeling. In that moment, she worked hard to keep her breath steadied. Aemond’s hands left her belly and found their way up to her breasts, cupping each one while gently brushing his thumbs over her quickly reacting nipples.

Letting out a forced exhale, Viserra let her head fall back slightly before feeling the crown slip forward on her head. After fixing it to make sure it would not fall, her hands found their place on his shoulders once more and she let her nails press into his skin.

When she felt his soft lips make contact with her breast, she broke the silence and let out a breathy moan. Motivated by her response, Aemond continued to devote his mouth to her chest, pulling her in by the hips so that she now pressed against his cock.

The friction of the touch was intense but it was simply not enough to satisfy either of them. After only a few moments of what felt like cruel teasing, Viserra caught his eye and they seemed to come to a mutual understanding. Rising up on her knees just enough for her to mount him, she carefully brought herself back down to take him within her.

It was Aemond’s turn to end his silence, a low groan leaving his mouth as he felt her slowly begin to accommodate him. She watched as he closed his now glazed over eye, fighting with himself to maintain control as she let a satisfied smile pull at her lips.

They both allowed themselves a moment to simply enjoy the satisfaction that came with such an intimate connection before either of them made another move. Viserra reached up to steady the crown on her head once more before  leaning forward to brace herself on his chest and slowly beginning their dance as she set the pace.

Aemond let her take control at first, his own hands roaming over her body before finding their place back to her hips. Eventually, he began guiding her movements in a faster rhythm, his fingers pressed firmly into the soft skin of her rump. Each time their bodies met, Viserra could feel the ball tightening within her lower abdomen. Her nails dug into his skin even more and she did not care in the least about the marks that were left in their place.

Between shared moans and shaky breaths, their lips found each other and hungrily met in a sloppy union. Aemond brought her hips to his with even more urgency, beginning the final chase to his release. As she felt her own walls tighten around him, she toppled into her orgasm, coping with the intensity by pulling his bottom lip in between her teeth and biting down.

“Fuck,” he groaned into her mouth, finding that the unexpected pain only enhanced all of the sensations in that moment. Aemond’s hands suddenly held her trembling hips flush with his, holding her in place as he finally spilled himself within her. Viserra let go of his lip and wrapped her arms around his neck, collapsing on him as she savored the last of him pulsating inside her..

Neither spoke a word as they savored the intensity of the moment. Both found themselves to be quite out of breath, and  it took a few minutes for their breathing to gradually return back to normal.

Viserra was the first to make a move, lifting herself off of his lap and settling on one hip at his side. Aemond leaned back and turned to her, his hand brushing a loose strand of hair from her face and straightening the crooked crown on her head. She gave him a soft smile and watched as he proceeded to run his eyes over her jawline down to her chest.

“I am going to need that back before the nights’ end,” he spoke, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

With raised brows, Viserra let out a laugh. “Take it back now, if you want it,” she offered, reaching up with her free hand to remove the heavy metal piece. “This is your wish, not mine.”

But Aemond intercepted the motion, his hand firmly grasping her wrist. “Leave it,” he insisted.

Viserra studied his face again, trying to figure him out. His serious tone and the firm hold he had on her wrist left no room to doubt that he meant what he had said. She rolled her eyes but obliged and did not make another attempt to remove the crown. Leaning in, she gently pressed her lips against his.

Aemond returned the kiss without hesitation, his hand still holding onto her as if he were afraid she would not listen. When she noticed that the usually sweet taste of his lips now hinted of warm metal, she pulled back. Wiping her bottom lip with her thumb, she discovered a small amount of blood. She quickly realized that she had bitten him quite hard, a bold move that she had not intended to take so far.

A mixture of guilt and arousal washed over her, unsure of how he would respond to the assault. Aemond, however, only widened his grin, his eye lit up as he looked at her. Reaching out, he brought her thumb to his mouth, running it over the swollen bump.

A cold shiver ran down Viserra’s spine and she felt her heartbeat begin thumping in her chest. Watching his fire burn over something like this both thrilled and unnerved her. In that moment, she recognized they both understood the darker threads woven in the other, that they were truly bound in a way others could not even attempt to understand.

Aemond released her thumb from his grip and brought himself closer to her ear. “I am eager for the day we both step on the battlefield,” he spoke, his warm breath tickling her skin. 

“I hope to have the chance,” she quipped, feeling the fire in her chest begin to smolder with the return of their realities . She reminded herself that they both had caught the other veering recklessly into situations that would have been better handled with a level head. Though fiery impulsiveness was in their blood, it was something that needed to be managed in a way that ensured they survived each move on the warfront. “Promise me, Aemond,” she began, her gaze locked in with his. “You will not let this burning desire to eradicate your uncle blind your senses.”

Aemond looked amused at her words, but as he opened his mouth to speak, she quickly continued on.

“If you meet your death in Harrenhal before ever letting me have the chance to join you in battle, I won’t only be disappointed, I will be quite angry,” she vowed.

Aemond shut his mouth and he pulled his lips into another smile. “I promise you,” he affirmed. “I will not die without giving you that chance.”

A forced exhale left her mouth as she rolled her eyes and leaned onto the arm supporting her. Words could only mean so much, but she would have to find some sort of peace in Aemond’s promise. And in that moment, her only option was to enjoy these last few hours before knowing that the coming days would be long as they awaited word of the army’s arrival and Aemond’s success in the Riverlands.

[mariedreamlove]

Feeding into the sibling headcanons of my newest fic ( a second chance (I'll take it no matter what)):

Finney and Gwen:

- their bond is even closer, they understand eachother without words

- if someone even tries to pick on either of them, the other comes to the protection, if verbally or physically is actually more or less depending in what condition the other sibling is.

- Gwen would literally travel through time for Finney, and does so.

- Finn's main goals are simple: protect the boys, make sure the Grabber doesn't even realize Gwen exists.

- They have disagreements. Quite often actually, though they still have the mentality : we can't be against one another if someone is against us two (either their dad or the Grabber)

- Finney still eats Gwen's ice cream, and she drinks his grape sodas if she gets the chance.

- she also likes, if the situation let's it be, to pick on Finney's crushes. (Donna First, then Robin.)

- tho Finney acts like he doesn't like it, he enjoys buying Gwen sweets or magazines or anything she likes.

- they always are there for eachother, and know of to clam the other one down I'm case of a panic attack.

- Gwen always tells Finney everything, and he tells her almost everything.

Donna & Billy (they are siblings in this AU)

- They don't have a great relationship ( constant fights, sometimes getting physical with shoving and when they were younger even hitting)

- after Billy was kidnapped, Donna fell into some kind of trance and just acted like.. nothing happened. She couldn't quite grasp what had happend and that her brother didn't return from his paper route. After his killer was dead though, she fell into a kind of realization and now only wants to make things better, change the past and save him to get the chance to at least tell him how sorry she is for him she treated him.

- Billy always left, though the siblings mostly were cold to eachother, a chocolate bar before Donna's door if they had a fight to say he was sorry. He doesn't know how to say sorry really. Sometimes it annoys Donna but she also appreciates it.

- Billy is a year and a half older than her, and is constantly acting like he is absolutely superior to her because of this ( he is only a few inches taller than her, and in the future Donna would have grown taller than him).

- tho they absolutely act like they despise eachother or don't know eachother, they can grow quite protective of eachother. Of course this grow into fights sometimes.

- Billy has terrible fears of storms and tornados, after he survived a bad storm on one of his routes. (A tree he was driving under was hit by lighting and a branch almost fell on him, but he survived with only a few bruises and a broken toe) Donna then either told him stories or just slept in the same room as him. Neither of them talk about it, but it happens.

- they do have to go through a lot of therapy before they can say to eachother that they love and appreciate each other. (Yet Donna traveled back in time to save him from the Grabber.)

Vance & Griffin

- Griffin used to sit right next to Vance and watch him with Vance's other friend break his Highscores and was having the time of his life while doing so, because oh my god the Vance Hopper is my brother and he lets me watch!

- Vance is a terrible comforter, and Griffin is a emotional kid. Chaos ensues everytime Griffin comes to his big brother crying and he just tries to clam him down. He often just offers to buy him ice cream or go catch bugs with him.

- While Vance likes to fight, while not in any sport, and to play pinball but this irrelevant for this rn, he wouldn't do it in front of Griffin. Not because his brother doesn't like violence nor not to scare him. Griffin just gets way too much of a big mouth and tries acting like Vance, while being build like a stick. ( How easy his back was to break.. like a stick.)

- the two curse a lot around eachother, and Vance tries to talk Griffin out of trying to beat people up. Because he can't, and Vance is terrible at patching himself up. Let alone his little brother!

- their dad isn't around a lot, so Griffin looks up to Vance. He gets a lot of his humor from Vance and his attitude sometimes.

- tho sometimes having different opinions, they two always stick together.

- Griffin loves bananas while Vance despises them like he has personal beef with them.

- as ghosts, while Vance was in the basement, Griffin knew he knew Vance from somewhere. Vance called out to Griff, but Griffin never realized they were brothers. When Vance died, he hugged Griffin so hard and cried harder than ever before, even while dying he didn't cry so hard. He apologized for leaving him alone that day for not walking him to school and anything. Griffin just asks who Vance is.

- normally Vance walks Griffin to school ( on the day of his kidnapping they had a fight.. Vance stayed home while Griffin walked to school. We know how this one ended.)

- Griffin is someone who overhears, through being almost unnoticeable to his peers, everything. Meaning Vance knows exactly what someone said. Because Vance is the one Griffin tells everything.

Bruce & Amy

- don't get always along, kind of rivals in things to impress their parents.

- when they were younger, they had a similar situation as Billy and Donna, but they grew over it. They still have tension but get along way better.

- Amy is more antisocial than Bruce, and unlike him she tells when she doesn't want something.

- Amy loves sweets, while Bruce likes more spicy snacks and less sweet deserts.

- Amy is at every Baseball game of Bruce, and he goes to every soccer game she has.

- After Bruce disapeared, Amy's grades really got low. So low, she had to repeat the year, because she was so distraught by her big brother dissapearing.

- for that reason she didn't like Donna. They were in the same situation and shoes, their big brothers being gone, and Donna acted like.. nothing happened. After Finney disappeared she and Gwen got to be friends, and later she warmed up to Donna too, after realizing that was the way she dealt with the trauma.

- Bruce tells Amy all about his problems and is the only person he is like half out to, and she does so too.

Robin and literally everyone.

- the literal only only child in the friend group.

- he acts like a big brother to the younger siblings (Griffin, Gwen and Donna, sometimes Amy if Bruce brings her along) and like the annoying younger brother to Vance and Bruce and Billy, and to Finney he's his soulmate.

- he one time snuck all of his friends in his uncle's truck to the cinema without him knowing

- he got the best lunches, because either his mom or his uncle make them.

- look at his friends the wrong way and he'll make you pay. Bare you nice, he'll be nice