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ssinboo · 1 year ago

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Say Yes to me

summary: You've been in love with Jeon Wonwoo since forever, and due to your family relations, you had hopes you'd marry him. Your only problem? he's getting engagement to someone else.

During his Engagement party, your childhood best friend and love of your life, Jeon Wonwoo, asks you to run away with him.

pairing: 1960s!AU - Childhood bestfriend! Wonwoo x F!Reader

word count: 10k (45~ minute read) – My longest ever!

warnings: unrequited crushes and overall foolishness, idiots in love, best friends to lovers to not lovers to lovers again, some angst?, Wonwoo is such a nerd, making out in dingy motels, unrealistic mileage for gasoline, seokmin being the sweetest

a/n: This will most certainly be my last fic of the year! So, Happy Holidays everyone! This year has been so troublesome, but I've grown so much and written a lot more, too! I'm so, so grateful for everyone I've met and everyone that's enjoyed my stuff! See you in 2024!

Had you been questioned, there would never be a concrete answer to the question of just how long you had been in love with Jeon Wonwoo.

You’d know him forever, and maybe you loved him all along.

Your families were business partners turned friends. And there had always been talk of marriage between the children. Of course, for convenience. The Jeon’s produced top-class racing and sports cars, while your family were in the chemical business, specialising in industry paints and finishes, it was only natural to unite the two families and profit.

Although your wealth was vast, it was nothing compared to the Jeon’s, despite always having the chance to frequent the same environments, you often found you were on different levels altogether.

Jeon Wonwoo was the eldest son, and he carried himself as such — with all the poise and arrogance of the heir to a global conglomerate. He liked golfing and late night swims. Always took his coffee black with no sugar, and barely had anything for breakfast, preferring a hearty lunch instead.

His younger brother, Lee Seokmin, was the result of an affair with a secretary, though that did not mean he was loved any less, no. Seokmin lacked a single mean bone in his body, he had a pure heart and a contagious laugh.

They were by all means what people liked to call Irish Twins, born less than a year apart. And the nature of that fact only made their differences more apparent. Complete opposites they were, and that extended to how they treated you, too.

Every summer growing up, your family would travel to the country house and you and your sister would spend the better part of the months at the club. Oh, how you loved the country club with the fun summer activities the clear chlorinated water, having a meal under the pool umbrellas and getting funny tan lines.

But most of all, you enjoyed Jeon Wonwoo.

His family frequented the same club and every summer, you’d be practically glued to Wonwoo, even if he didn’t dare to pay you any attention.

You were only three years apart, yet he acted as if you were an immature brat. Seokmin had always been happy to play with you and your sister, though.

More often than not, Wonwoo would lounge by the pool with a book, never daring to go in. And you would cross your arms over tile by the sides and try your damnedest to strike a conversation with him. He would ignore your every word, or worse, poke fun at your latest obsession.

“Wonwoo, at what time where you born?” You ask, spitting out any chlorine filled water off your mouth.

He arches an eyebrow, looking up from his book.

“What?”

“What time were you born?” You repeat, unbothered by his acidic tone.

“Why would I know that?”

“Can’t you ask your mum?”

He rolls his eyes, “Why do you wanna know?”

“So I can see your birth chart,” You shrug, twirling a wet strand of hair around your finger.

“The fuck is a birth chart?”

“It’s like… It’s a way to see your personality… And I can check to see if we’re compatible.”

“That’s stupid…” He rolls his eyes, again, “You’re stupid.”

You scoff, “You won’t play along— You’re such a bore!” You yell out and dive back in the pool, leaving behind a cackling Wonwoo.

Those hapless summer days were spent lazing by the pool with your sister and Seokmin — without a care in the world, laughing about nothing. With the isolated water-balloon fight every now and then.

You’d grown up before you could realise it, never truly leaving behind your childish crush on Wonwoo. Even if by the age hierarchy, you had no chance of marrying him — Your sister were to marry Wonwoo and you possibly married Seokmin.

Though you held hope, it crumbled away with every passing minute.

But that year, your sister had the greatest early birthday present: She’d found the man she was to marry and best of all, your daddy could never say no to his girls.

With your sister marrying the love of her life, it meant that you would marry Wonwoo, right? It was only a matter of time and you would be sworn to each other before God, your friends, and family. And your first love would blossom.

On your 21st birthday, your father took you to work with him for the day, though you most lazed around and answered his calls. You only expected to have lunch for your birthday and a party on the weekend.

At noon, he drove to the Jeon’s factory to deliver the new paint samples.

The workers, most of whom had watched you, your sister and the Jeon kids grow up, greet you excitedly and some even wish you happy birthday. Your father goes straight to the floor to speak to the manager.

Unexpectedly, Mr. Jeon himself shows up.

Mr. Jeon was a handsome old man a captivating smile, he was incredibly passionate about his work and adored mechanics, but he loved his sons above all — And he had great expectations for his boys.

He greets you with a warm hug and wishes you a happy birthday before discussing business with your father. To which you busy yourself with staring at the pieces waiting for a coat of paint.

“Hey, baby, why don’t you come with us to the patio?” Your father calls and you oblige, skipping toward the two men.

The patio is where they stored their models waiting to be shipped out to agencies or sometimes, for the higher profile clients, directly to the customer. You look at the new line to be launched next winter: sleek and modern with leather seats and wooden accents on the interior. You could never criticise the Jeon’s for their taste, they knew their stuff.

“Come here, baby,” Your father waves his hands, “What do you think of this car?”

You study the convertible in a bright red with a cream leather interior; a classic.

“It’s gorgeous, daddy, when are they launching it?”

“It should be out next year, but what do you think of the colour?”

“I like it,” You nod enthusiastically.

“That’s great baby, why don’t you read up on this model?” He hands you a tiny card, common in the factory, that has the model and batch number, as well as the signature from the supervisor. But just underneath the model, you see the colour name: your name.

As you look at your father, completely astonished, he just lets out a warm laugh and opens his arms for a hug.

“You named a shade after me?!” You glue yourself to him, still in shock.

“Happy birthday, princess.”

“Thank you, daddy, you’re the best!”

“That’s your dad’s present, how about you open mine, now?” Mr. Jeon interjects, waving a tiny jewelry box in the air.

You fix your hair and take it from his hand, expecting maybe a ring, or earrings.

But you find brand new car keys.

Mouth agape, you look at him while your father can only laugh at your surprised expression.

“Why don’t you give it a spin?” Mr. Jeon encourages, rushing you toward the convertible.

And though your father is beside himself with worry for you driving during rush hour, he settles for sitting in the passenger’s seat and doing some good old backseat driving, even though you barely make it past 30.

You drive around the block and return to the factory before your father has an anxiety attack over your driving.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Jeon! When did you even do this?! I had no idea!”

“Wonwoo oversaw the whole thing, he’s the one you should thank,” He laughs it off, but your heart can only skip a beat at the mention of your beloved’s name. Especially thinking he was the one to take care of such a great gift.

Wonwoo loved mechanics as much as his dad, sometimes even more. He even went to a good college for it, coming back even smarter than before — and much sassier, too. He never stopped doing manual work in the factory, guaranteeing every car made was up to the Jeon standard.

And you were very biased toward his mechanic abilities, especially when he would furrow his brow, glasses perched on the very tip of his nose; he would wipe off sweat off his forehead with his grease covered arm.

You remember to this day the last time your father came to discuss swatches and you stopped by the shop. Watching Wonwoo work on an older model with a leaky oil tank.

He did everything himself, changed the tank perched under the car, soldering a brand new one. He also did a once over on anything else that could become a problem in the future, any filters needing change, checking wires and gears, making sure the oil was fresh. The problem came with the lights. He had such a hard time wiggling his thick arms through the machinery to reach the right spot, and you watched very intently how his triceps flexed, deep green veins bulging under his skin.

Wonwoo had gotten so frustrated he’d shed off the top part of his coveralls, sporting a white undershirt so tight you could basically tell the shape of his sweat-clad torso. Oh, how you’d hoped he never got that bulb in place.

“Come’ere,” Wonwoo calls out without further ado.

“Why?”

“Need your help,” He mumbles under a sigh.

You rise from the barrel you were sitting on and approach the open hood. “With what?”

“Getting this fuckin’ bulb in place,” He hands you the tiny light bulb.

“Where do I need to put it?”

“See— in between this part, need to shove you hand until you reach back here in the light, then you just screw it in.”

“What if I get stuck?”

“You won’t, you’re so petite,” He smirks.

You scoff, “Shut up.”

Leaning over the hood, you place your left hand on the chassis to steady yourself and shove your right hand in between gears and machinery, trying to find the spot he mentioned.

“I can’t find it,” You complain.

“Keep trying.”

“I am!”

“Here, deeper—“ He reaches for you, one hand on your waist and another on your arm, forcing you toward the place.

You’re way too focused on finding the damn spot for the light, that you barely notice the proximity at all.

“Can’t find it!”

“Right, right— My right.”

“It’s the same freakin’ right, you idiot,” You hiss.

He laughs, “Fine, our right,” you groan at his stupid joke, “It should be there, try to bring it closer to you.”

“Found it!” You squeal with a smile, screwing the bulb in its place.

“Atta girl,” Wonwoo smiles.

“There!” With a relieved sigh, you finally free your grease-clad hand from the machinery, slightly cringing at the black covering your fingernails — It’d be such a bother to clean it up.

When you finally lean back, you stumble onto Wonwoo’s firm chest. Lucky for you, he catches you, steady hold at your waist. You’re finally aware of his proximity, to which he only smiles.

Looking down at where his warm, tauntingly large hands meet your waist, you’re suddenly filled with nothing but rage. ‘

“You got grease all over my dress!” You whine, looking at the perfectly stamped print of his hand over your brand new summer dress.

He only laughs, “Looks better this way, trust me.”

“Ugh!” You groan, stomping toward the washing area where they kept clean rugs.

He closes the hood with a loud thump that echoes through the shop and slides into the driver’s seat. The car comes alive with a loud hum and ta-da! The headlight works.

You are a little proud of your work, yes. But it’s not like you’ll show it.

“Do you not anything clean in here?!” You complain, eyeing the pile of grease-covered rags thrown in a corner. That had to be a fire hazard.

“What?” Wonwoo shouts over the running engine.

You huff and stomp your way back to the car, throwing open the driver’s door. “I have a formal dinner to go to,” You state, leaning over the door.

“Okay, then go.”

Rolling your eyes, you hold back any possible insults, “Like this?” You gesture toward your otherwise perfectly fine dress.

He holds back a little mischievous smile, “I have some clean clothes in the office.”

Wide eyes, mouth hanging agape, you stare at him dumbfound, “I hope that’s a joke, Jeon Wonwoo.”

He laughs, genuinely. That sweet, deep, dorky laugh of his that reverberates through his chest and plunges straight into your heart.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

As much as he did tease you, Wonwoo never made short on his promises.

“Is he around?” You ask Mr. Jeon, trying your best to suppress any expectations.

“Oh, he had some business… But he wished you a happy birthday.”

Your smile falters before your catch it, forcing the corners of your lips into a beautiful, rehearsed smile. “Let him know I’m grateful. For the wishes and for the amazing present.”

It would soon be Wonwoo’s birthday and you had been preparing for what felt like ages. You got him a really nice set of electric work tools since he complained often about how the shop’s tools were always malfunctioning. But you did feel somewhat bad about only getting him a gift relating to work on what should be a day about him.

So you caved in and got him a gorgeous wrist watch with classy black leather straps; on the underside you had his name inscribed with a heart. — You actually hadn’t planned for the heart, but the jeweller got confused in between so many orders and it was too close to the date to have it re-done. You hoped you could play it off in a cool manner, maybe he would laugh at your story.

The party would be held the eve of his actual birthday, and you arrived at the venue with hours to spare. Your father and sister are by the entrance, speaking to Mr. Jeon, you greet them.

“Hi, Mr. Jeon! Where should I put the gifts?”

“Oh—“ Surprised, he looks at your father, “You’ve brought gifts—“ He seems… surprised? As if it were so weird to bring presents to a birthday party. “Uh— I’m not sure, let me check with my wife where you could place those.”

You father nervously sips on his champagne, avoiding your sister’s burning looks.

“You haven’t told her,” Your sister turns to your father, “Why didn’t you tell her?”

“Tell me what?” You ask.

“Honey… This isn’t Wonwoo’s birthday party…” Your father speaks very slowly, gauging for your reaction at his every word.

Eyebrows raised, you question, “What do you mean?”

“It’s an engagement party, he’s getting engaged to Suzy,” Your sister rips the band-aid off.

And you feel the air being sucked out of your lungs at once, an agonising knot pulls at your throat and your nose stings with the threat of tears. The shopping bags fall from your hands and you fight off the urge to bawl your eyes out.

Before you actually do cry your eyes out, you rush outside.

“Baby—“ Your father calls but you just storm off, not wanting to be near anyone.

Engaged? Engaged!

Engaged…

Wonwoo was getting fucking engaged.

With a bitch named Suzy who had the prettiest hair you’d ever seen and knew how to talk to investors and could speak a thousand languages. And worst of all, she was the kindest, sweetest girl ever. You couldn’t even hate her!

You weren’t even allowed that! As much as you weren’t allowed a simple heads up. How hard was it to tell you beforehand “Hey, the guy you’ve loved your entirely life is getting married to some girl and you just brought lemon pies to his engagement party, thought you’d want to know.”

Maybe you should’ve taken the pies with you, at least you’d have some comfort.

You know what, what the fuck. Why didn’t Wonwoo tell you anything?! It had been barely a couple of days since you saw each other, why couldn’t he tell you? Were you not even worthy of that?

Like having known each other your entire lives doesn’t make you worthy of such ”wonderful” news? How hard is it to tell someone in passing that you’re getting engaged! And now, you’re supposed to smile all night and pretend like your guts aren’t festering in rage and melancholy and your blood doesn’t run cold at the mere thought of Wonwoo walking down the aisle.

Giving it a second thought, maybe it wasn’t set in stone yet.

It’s the modern times and even back in your parents’ days, engagements were broken off all the time! He might not marry Suzy. You might have a chance.

Maybe you could ask— no, you could plead with your father to tell Mr. Jeon to think it all over. Wonwoo is still young, it’s not time to settle down just yet. He wanted to study abroad, he talked about the automobile industry in Europe with such amaze, and if that took a little longer, maybe Suzy would get tired of waiting?

Who were you fooling? You should’ve seen it coming.

Of course, he wouldn’t have married you, what were you thinking?!

He’s the Jeon’s precious firstborn and you’re… someone who can’t even tell apart the sizing in wrenches — To top it all off, Suzy was notably great with mechanics.

You really wish you had those pies with you, it would make your salty tears a little sweeter.

By the time you’re done sobbing in your car, you look a hot mess with runny make-up and swollen eyes. With a sigh, you pull out your purse and muster up any cosmetics that can save you for tonight.

You could cry all you wanted at home, but right now, you needed to look pretty and have your pictures taken.

By the time you return, the party is to start and guests are gathering at the front, your sister immediately rushes to your side.

“Are you okay?” she whispers, soft hands reaching for yours.

Forcing out a smile, “Of course! Who do you think I am?”

By the look on her face, you know she doesn’t trust your words not one bit, but will not pry at your emotions any further. At least not for tonight, you’re sure tomorrow she will grill you about this. But for now, you put on a bright smile and greet all the guests.

From the Jeon’s, Seokmin is the third to arrive, missing only by the birthday boy himself. But he immediately greets his parents and comes to greet your family.

“Hey!” You smile, putting aside your glass of champagne so you can hug him properly.

“How you doin’?” He asks, gorgeous smile on display.

“I’m— Well—“

“They’ve told you then—“

You press your lipstick coloured lips into a thin line, “Yeah,” You nod.

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” You shrug, “I’m happy, Suzy is… a—“ Nice words. Nice words. “—wonderful girl.”

Seokmin offers you a sweet smile. “Let’s hope she can handle his tantrums,” he nudges at your arm.

“Oh, please!” You laugh.

Wonwoo was known for sometimes having a bit of a short temper, not often, by any means and maybe that’s what made them so memorable. Like the one time he couldn’t finish a puzzle during game night, so he gathered all the pieces and set the ablaze in the backyard.

“Or—“ A waiter passes by with a tray full of champagne and he so kindly grabs two glasses, offering you one. “Listen to this— He gets to the church, covered in grease from head to toe.”

You laugh at the thought. Gods, how many times has Wonwoo decided to work on an engine while wearing his most expensive outfit? His mother nearly had a fit every time he would show up dishevelled and smelling like motor oil pretending like nothing’s wrong.

“Please,” You sip at your drink, “I bet he’s gonna be all greased up tonight.”

Seokmin laughs wholeheartedly. He was the sort of guy to never hold back a fit of giggles no matter how inappropriate it may be, and it was certainly refreshing to know someone genuinely found your company enjoyable.

“For sure, I think her parents will freak out.”

You nod.

Tapping at your glass, you hesitate the following words, “Guess we’ll be the ones getting married for the family, then…”

You didn’t hate Seokmin, far from it. You loved him to bits— Not like Wonwoo, of course, you believed you would never love a man like you loved Wonwoo, ever again.

He was funny, and such a gentleman. Not to mention, handsome, too. If you weren’t hopelessly in love with his brother, he would’ve been the perfect husband of your dreams. But he did deserve better than a wife who could never give him what he deserves.

“Sorry about that,” Seokmin comforts you and that only makes your nose sting with the threat of more tears.

“Stooop!” You whine in a shaky voice and he’s overcome with worry.

“Hey— What’s wrong—?”

“Don’t be so sweet— I’m emotional tonight—“ You laugh at your emotional state, despite the teary-eyes.

“Are you a crybaby tonight?”

You nod, fanning your eyes in the hope of drying your tears before they can wash away your makeup.

Seokmin smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and you lean against his chest, fighting the urge to cry.

It’s only when you’re certain you won’t bawl your eyes out, that you respond. “It’s not that I hate you, you know I love you, but… You deserve someone that will love you like a husband.”

He nods, “I know— But it might not be so bad, we’re friends! We’ll have sleepovers every day, and we’ll have Italian every night, we’ll watch those silly movies you like…” Seokmin lists off all the things you would do in your very platonic marriage and it doesn’t sound so bad.

He knew exactly how you felt, he loved you, of course he did, you were so precious in his eyes, but not like a lover.

You pull your face away from his chest to look up at him, “Are you gonna let me choose your clothes?”

Seokmin sighs. You hated his questionable fashion since forever and in only very rare occasions did he accept your input, any other time and he assaulted your spirit with clashing patterns and silly shoes.

“Fine—!”

You smile brightly, properly comforted.

Before you can tease him any further, you spot Wonwoo entering the venue. Although he is immediately swarmed with congratulatory words, his shy nature makes it so his only response is always an awkward smile.

He immediately spots you among the crowd.

You breathe in. In that moment, despite knowing he was sworn to another, that did not stop your heart from fluttering at the sight of him, his broad shoulders and the crooked tie he clearly put on a rush.

“Congrats, bro!” Seokmin is the first one to greet him, not letting go of your shoulder but instead pulling Wonwoo into a semi-hug.

“Seokmin…” Wonwoo eyes his brother and then you, and then his brother again.

“Congrats, Nonu,” You smile, letting go of Seokmin’s comfort to reach for a hug.

Wonwoo smiles, letting you cling onto his neck, your citric perfume seeping into his clothes and body.

Oh, how his warmth could never compare to another. How you craved his affection like no other.

“Thanks— Uh, did you bring me anything?” He asks in a teasing tone.

“Ey— Nonu!” Seokmin scolds his brother.

“How did you know I brought you something?” You giggle, pulling away from the hug.

Wonwoo shrugs.

You reach for his crooked tie, straightening it to the best of your abilities. “I brought it earlier, but I think your mum took it to the back room,” You explain, focused on the tie.

He, however is focused on your concentrated face, parted red lips and furrowed brows. The proximity that lets him almost feel your chest pressed against his, as if extending the hug.

“However, you, mister, have to greet your guests!” You scold, setting his tie in place.

Seokmin joins in, once again throwing his arm around your shoulder. “That’s right, mum already gave me an earful about how late you were— And I got here on time!”

“Yeah— Yeah— You’re right,” Wonwoo nods.

“Liquid courage?” You offer your half-drunk glass of champagne and he downs it in one go.

You and Seokmin goof around a little more and gossip about certain guests behind their backs. Dinner is served and you all sit down to eat, Seokmin insists you sit beside him, which just so happens to also be next to Wonwoo. And you thank him for indulging you one last time.

Wonwoo is mostly quiet, but you were used to him not being rather fond of public parties, especially when all of the attention is on him. On his other side, sits Suzy, the blushing bride-to-be. She tries to make conversation with Wonwoo, though most of it falls flat, he only ever gives her monosyllabic answers and rarely contributes to discussions.

That is until Mr. and Mrs. Jeon stand up, tapping forks to their glasses to call for everyone’s attention. The room quiets down instantly.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending our little gathering tonight,” Mr Jeon greets the guests. “We have some wonderful news we would like to share with you all.”

“My beautiful son, how proud I am of you,” He adds, “Every day I am amazed at your intellect. Often, I question just where did you get those smarts!”

Everyone laughs.

“You have grown into a fine man, and I can’t take credit for any of it. You are the most mature, talented, and intelligent boy and you did it all by yourself— ”

You can watch how Wonwoo’s eyes gloss over with tears.

“I’m growing old, you know. And every father wants the guarantee that his children will be taken care of… That’s why I’m so relieved and happy to announce that my worries will soon be gone—“ He laughs but his son’s smile falters, “I’d like to announce the engagement of my son, Wonwoo, to this beautiful young lady named Suzanne. Welcome to the family, Suzy.”

He raises his glass and soon, the room fills with uproar. Everyone claps and you join in, smiling toward Mr. Jeon and Suzy. She stands up, thanking everyone and raising her own glass.

But Wonwoo doesn’t move.

“Nonu?” You whisper.

In his ears all that can be heard is muffled screams of joy and the incessant acute ringing. He closes his fists so tight that his blunt nails almost break through skin, he doesn’t look at you, but it’s so clear something is wrong.

You and Seokmin exchange glances.

Before you can call for him again, he stands up at once, the chair falling behind him with a loud bang that silences the room in an instant. In large and rushed strides, Wonwoo leaves for the patio.

You stand up and follow him.

“Wonwoo!” You call out, almost tripping over your party heels.

He stands in the yard, hand gripping at his gelled hair while the other fights with his tie, pulling at the suffocating fabric until it slides down.

The yard is decorated with a gorgeous fountain, sound of running water somewhat soothing in this moment.

“Nonu, what’s wrong?” You whisper, a hand reaching for his heaving shoulder.

“What wrong?!” He yells back, shoving your hand away, “Did you not fuckin’ hear ‘em?!”

You step back and his gaze somewhat softens, realising he just pushed you.

“You didn’t know…” You whisper to yourself, epiphany hitting you like a punch to the gut. How could Mr. Jeon do this?! Throw this on him without any previous warning?!

“You— You knew?” His voice is shaky, laced with the sharp sting of betrayal.

“I found it out myself tonight when I got here— I— I thought you knew! I thought you agreed to it!” You argue.

“How— How can you think I would agree to marry someone—“ His words trail off in the night breeze, never to be finished.

“Then— What will you do?”

“I don’t know!”

You bite at your nails, finding a concrete surface to sit on and ponder.

“I must leave—“ He speaks out, “Run away with me—“

“What?!” you stand up.

“Let’s leave, drive somewhere— Wherever! I can’t stay a moment longer in this place.”

Oh, what a dilemma it was.

Abandon an engagement party with the groom-to-be, leaving behind furious parents and confused guests. And part of you knew that, despite your family’s closeness and no matter how much your father claimed you were all very close like family, driving off in the middle of the night with a committed man was a blow to any respectable, single, young ladies.

What a dilemma it could’ve been if you weren’t so enamoured with this man you would beck at any given call of his.

“I’ll get my bag and tell your parents you want to stay out here for a couple of minutes,” You announce and he nods.

As you walk back into the venue, all eyes are on you.

“He’s got the wedding jitters, everyone, not to worry. Wonwoo will return after he’s had a bit of fresh air,” You announce with a smile and all guests return to their previous activities.

But Mr. Jeon immediately corners you.

“What is he thinking?!” He half-yells, half-whispers.

“He’s just nervous, it’s a big bit of news…” You lie through your teeth, “I think a little heads up would’ve helped, you know he doesn’t do well with surprises.”

The man sighs, “He wouldn’t ever agree to it. I’ve offered him countless girls to marry and he never accepts any of them.“ Mr. Jeon looks at you and then sighs. “Do me a favour, convince him to come back, will you?”

“Yes, sir,” You nod and head off into the back rooms.

Unbeknown to you, Seokmin is on your trail and he waits until you are in the back lounge, gathering your bags and jacket to close the door and corner you.

“What the hell happened?”

You jump at the sudden intrusion, “You scared me!” You whisper.

“Sorry,” He whispers back.

“He didn’t know!”

“What?!” He says in a normal tone, soon realising just how loud that was.

“What I said, I think your dad set up a trap… He knows Wonwoo won’t go against his word.”

“Shit. What are we gonna do?”

“He wants to run away,” You announce.

Seokmin looks at you, and then at the purse hanging from your should and the jacket in your hands.

“And you’re coming with him?”

“I can’t leave him alone, not tonight.”

“And where are you going?”

“I don’t know,”

“And when are you coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

“You are coming back, right?”

“I have no idea, Seokmin,” You realise, but the prospect doesn’t scare you as badly.

He scratches at his head. “Leave through the kitchen, I’ll hold off my dad. Make sure to give me a call once you guys are… I don’t know— Just give a call, will you?”

You nod, pulling him into a hug.

Doing as he instructed, you pass through the kitchen staff and rush through the backdoor, unseen by the guests. Wonwoo is sitting on a concrete bench, his head between his hands.

“Ready?” You call out.

Wonwoo looks up, nodding before he rises to his height. You offer him a comforting smile and reach for his hand.

Once you get hold of his hand, you bolt across the yard toward the parking lot. He almost stumbles over his lanky legs, but catches up rather fast. You throw your stuff on the backseat and enter your car, Wonwoo decides to jump over the door.

You laugh at his antics with a shake of your head.

Once your heels are discarded, you start the engine and drive off, leaving behind that dreaded engagement party. Wonwoo busies himself with shedding his formal wear, throwing his tie on the floor and removing his blazer.

In any other occasion, this could’ve been such a lovely late-night drive, just the two of you in your beloved car, night breeze caressing your faces with her ice-cold kisses, cruising through deserted roads, barely a soul in sight except for the night owls.

And you might allow yourself to enjoy this moment.

The silence isn’t a bother, no, Wonwoo was always a man of comfortable silences to you, but this once, you’re worried about goes on in that busy mind of his.

“You alright?” You ask, looking away from the road to steal a glance or two at him.

“Yeah,” He replies.

“Truly?”

“No,” He scoffs at his own lie. “But I’ll be.”

You nod.

You drive out of town and on the interstate roads for ages until Wonwoo finally speaks up. You’re completely engulfed in darkness except for your headlights.

“We should stop soon and have a rest.”

“Okay,” You nod, “Any preferences?”

“Anywhere.”

And so you tell him to keep his eyes peeled open when a sign on the road says there should be a motel in the next couple KM. It doesn’t take too long before you’re pulling into the parking lot of a roadside motel, much of a far-cry from your expensive hotels and luxury living.

You check in at the front desk with an old man who seems very unhappy with his life, he short of throws the keys your way.

The room is… surprisingly nice, given the circumstances of the ambience. Only problem is the, although quite large, singular bed. You exchange glances.

“Shit,” Wonwoo curses, “I’m gonna

“You wanna get hit?” You joke, “He’s minutes away from killing us over this room. We can just share the bed.”

He looks at you with wide eyes. “I’ll sleep in the tub.”

Oh, he certainly seems to hate the idea of sharing a bed with you, huh.

“Nonu, please, it’s late and we’re both tired. It will be just like when we were kids,” You explain, setting aside your stuff.

Wonwoo nods, sitting on the strangely comfortable bed.

“You think they have robes?” You ask, looking around.

“Wouldn’t bet on it.”

“Oh, I’d kill to get out of this dress,” You whine, running to the bathroom to check for anything you could wear instead of your dress.

He just bites at his lips, watching you pace from side to side in that tiny bedroom.

That’s when you remember your forgotten shopping bags sitting in the trunk! Your compulsive shopping habits just saved you from a very uncomfortable night’s sleep, how convenient!

“I think I have some clothes in my car,” You announce, grabbing the keys and heading toward the door.

“Wait, you’re going by yourself? let me go with you.”

“I don’t wanna lock the door, though,” You whine.

He sighs, “Stay here, I’ll go.”

You jump, “Thank you, Nonu!”

While Wonwoo rummages through your trunk and pulls out the surprising large amount of shopping bags, you shed off your clothes and head toward the bathroom, dying to get some hot water on your body, put on your new PJs and doze off.

When he returns however, he is greeted by a sight any other man would die to see. You’ve left a trail of clothes from the bed toward the bathroom door. Starting on your pretty dress, splayed out over tiled-floor, and then your tights and then your underwear, matching, too—

He clears his throat. “I’m back!”

But you probably don’t hear him through the running shower, so he just sets down the bags and avoid the sight of your clothes. He decides to turn on the tiny TV and browse through any late night re-runs. You take only a couple of minutes in your shower.

“Nonu?” You ask from the bathroom.

“Yeah?” He turns down the TV.

“Did you find the clothes?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you bring me something to wear?” Wonwoo gulps.

“Uh— Which one?”

“There should be a light blue bag and a pink one.”

“Okay—“ He stands up and searches for the aforementioned colours.

Wonwoo heads to the bathroom door and leans against the wall, facing away from the door. He knocks once. You open the door and shove your arm through, reaching for the bags.

“Thank youu!”

He returns to the boring TV. Though all he could think about was the sight of your wet supple skin, knowing you were bare with only a thin sheet of plywood separating you.

You leave the bathroom smelling of cheap soap and fresh into your brand new nightgown. It is tentatively short with an almost see-through round of lace over the hems. In your defence, you weren’t planning on showing this nightgown to anyone anytime soon.

Sitting on the bed, you look around the room, not noticing how Wonwoo’s eyes don’t really meet yours or how red his ears seem to burn.

“Aren’t you gonna shower?” You ask.

“Feels a bit redundant to shower and get back into my dirty clothes.”

“I think I might have something for you, if you don’t want to sleep in a suit,” You pry.

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, “I’m listening.”

“But you can’t judge! I bought this for my dad because you know he deals very poorly with the heat— And he never buys himself anything!” You’re explaining yourself in advance because you remember very well what you bought.

Silky boxer shorts and a tank top, which your father loved to sleep in on stuffy summer nights but you doubted would be Wonwoo’s first choice of wear, ever.

He haggles with his own mind; give into the silky boxer shorts or sleep in the most uncomfortable outfit ever. With a tired sigh, Wonwoo accepts his fate and grabs the bag.

You smile as he stomps toward the bathroom with a defeated frown.

By the time he returns, you’ve cleaned up your trail of clothes and made yourself very comfortable in the bed. You turn your head to face him.

God, he could make a potato sack look good.

“How’s the fit?” You pull your eyes away before you look for too long.

Wonwoo shrugs, “I’ve had worse.”

You laugh.

He coyly joins you in bed, keeping a large gap between your bodies, settling on top of the covers while you’re under their warmth.

“Ain’t you cold?” You ask, fidgeting with the TV remote.

Wonwoo shakes his head, leaning back into the headboard. With a pout, you cross the figurative bridge between the two of you and reach for him. He doesn’t shy away from your touch but it visibly confused.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, hands hovering in the air, far away from your exposed back.

“I’m sorry your birthday party sucked,” You murmur against his chest, Wonwoo smiles softly, letting his hands rest on you.

“It didn’t suck in its entirety,” he says, palms slightly tapping at your back, “it was fun running away with you.”

You giggle at his comment, heart fluttering at its meaning, “What are we going to do? About the engagement, I mean…”

“We?” He raises an eyebrow.

You pull away from him.

“Well— You dragged me into this!” You slap at his chest and he lets out a boisterous laugh that almost manages to pull the corners of your from into a smile.

“I know, I’m taking the piss out of you,” He extends his arms, pulling you back to your previous position, resuming the soft caresses he leaves on your arms. “I don’t know— This is the first time I’ve ever gone against my father.”

You sigh. “Don’t you wanna marry Suzy?”

There’s a pause and oh, you’re begging, wishing to hear the words you want most.

“Fuck no!” Wonwoo exclaims and you fail to hide your excitement.

“She is pretty,” You throw the bait, to pry at his true feelings.

“So is your sister, should I just marry any pretty girl?”

You raise from your position, eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown. Wonwoo looks at you, completely clueless to his words and its consequences.

“What the hell?!”

“What?”

Kicking off the covers in a flurry, you kneel on the bed, staring at him dead in the eyes. “You have the hots for my sister!”

It’s Wonwoo’s turn to get angry, “What?! No— You’re twisting my words—“

“I’m twisting your words?! You just said you think my sister is pretty!”

“Because she is!”

You jaw drops, you can’t believe he is doubling down. “Wow,” you shake your head.

“What’s wrong with saying that?”

You shrug, turning away from him and crossing your arms. “I don’t know, why don’t you just go an marry my sister, then.”

Only then, does this thick-headed man you love so much realise he has been complimenting other girls without so much as telling you a single nice word — the bare minimum. He sighs and offers you a soft smile, shifting in the bed until he is near you again.

“I don’t want to marry your sister. I think she is pretty, but she’s not the prettiest sister, you are.” He waits for your reaction.

Hook, line and sinker.

You turn around immediately, a hint of smile playing in your pretty lips.

That’s enough for him to break into a wide smile, opening his arms to welcome you back into his warmth. You crash into his chest, wrapping yourself around his torso.

He groans, falling back into the mattress but not letting go of you.

Minutes pass before you speak again. “It’s past midnight…” You whisper.

“It’s well past midnight… Why?”

You shift upwards until your faces are only inches apart, breath tickling his lips, your beautiful eyes gleaming under dim motel lighting. “Happy birthday,” You whisper between smiles, “Make a wish.”

Wonwoo breathes in, eyes scanning your face, “There’s one thing I want…”

“What is it?”

If he said it out loud, he might’ve lost all courage to do so.

So he just does it, Wonwoo leans forward until his lips meet yours in a chaste kiss.

It probably lasted a couple of seconds, but those seconds felt like a lifetime when you were finally kissing the man you’ve loved for god knows how long. There’s a spark of electricity that burns bright from the moment your lips touch and travels through your body, blood boiling in excitement, shyness, and pure love.

When the kiss ends, Wonwoo studies your face, watching for any sign of discomfort. Which is even more worrying when you’re standing there, froze solid with an empty stare.

But thankfully, before he can say anything, you throw caution into the wind.

You pull him into a kiss. Throwing every sense of morale and shame you had out the damn window. He was a man sworn to another, for Pete's sake! But here you here, crashing your lips into his perfect, soft ones.

Wonwoo lets out a quiet groan, almost inaudible, but you hear it, oh yes, you do. And it runs straight through your chest and down to your core.

Although the sensible, rational part of your brain tells you to quit kissing him at once and just apologise, the other 99% of your brain, who’s been in love with him since forever, wants nothing of the sort. And you might have listened to the not-so-rational part of you, because you just deepened the kiss, shifting your weight until you’re partially on top of him.

Your lips move against him, shyly exploring this kiss, engraving every moment into your memory.

Yet he reciprocates. His warm hands finds your waist, holding you flush against his torso, heartbeats thumping completely in-sync. You wrap your arms around his neck and he takes the chance to pull you deeper into those dangerous lips of his. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, licking and twirling against yours, hot and eager.

He dips his head, one hand reaches to tangle into your hair and manoeuvre you around, allowing himself complete freedom to explore every bit of your mouth.

Wonwoo kisses like no other. Not that you had too much of a repertoire to compare him to.

But he consumes your lips with an unbound hunger, nothing similar to the calm and collected Wonwoo you knew, no. He’s hungry, messy, and very clumsy, clashing teeth one too many times, letting saliva drip down your chins and struggling to move with you on top of him.

When you part the kiss, you lay there breathless, gazing into his ridiculously beautiful beady eyes and long eyelashes, his handsome sharp nose and the most kissable lips you’ll ever see.

It was breathtaking, mind-blowing and nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Your heart beats so fast you feel as if you might pass out at any moment but you’d die before you give up experiencing that again.

“What was that?” He whispers and his breath tickle your kiss-swollen lips.

“Your birthday gift,” You bite at your lower lip. “Did you like it?”

Wonwoo smiles, breathless and half-lidded and your heart damn near bursts. “I did. Did you?”

You nod.

He nods. “Wanna do it again?”

You nod and he gives you that stupidly handsome smile of his.

And once again, you’re attached at the lips. This once, nothing like before, which you though impossible. It’s so much more desperate and it burns, it boils your blood in absolute desire. It leaves you light-headed, it wipes away your cognitive thoughts and leaves behind a foggy cloud of barely strung-together words that only translate into wanting more. More of him.

You sigh into the kiss and he drinks it all up, he consumes everything you give him with erratic hands and eager tongue.

Wonwoo leaves your lips and you whine with a breathless sigh of his name, almost chipping at any resolve he had left. But he nips at your neck nonetheless, warm, wet tongue trailing along your skin, making you twitch in his arms with the most delectable little ‘yips’ of surprise.

He bites, feral and determined; determined to make his claim, to leave behind his mark on your body, to indulge in carnal pleasure without a prospect of tomorrow, letting everything else be a construct beyond these motel walls, away from where you laid. Away from this reality where he had you in his hands and you moaned his name with a soft smile.

Practically tearing your nightgown, he pulls the silky fabric just enough until your tits spill out of its confine. Wonwoo sighs at the sight, fingers trailing the contour of your boobs, raising goosebumps along sensitive skin. His eyes are burning in adoration, the most depraved glaze of hunger hidden behind sheer excitement.

He dives in, hands kneading at the flesh, squishing soft skin.

Slender fingers caress your aereolas, running fingernails along your nipples in curiosity, watching you squirm and bite at your lips as your nipples begin to perk up.

And when you thought he was done, Wonwoo attaches his mouth to your nipple, sloppily running his tongue around it before he sucks. He makes sure to let his teeth graze, just to watch you jump.

All while his other hand makes work of your unattended boob, your attention is so thinly divided between his teasing fingers and his hot tongue and the sweetest, most satisfied groans that erupt from his throat.

Your face burns and you bite at the back of your hand, shoving down every stubborn moan that tries to make it past; but he won’t have that, no. Wonwoo reaches for your arms, pinning them above your head without so much as pulling away from your tits.

Mindlessly, you’ve been rocking back and forth against him, chasing a gut feeling you’re unsure of but desire more than anything ever. And without realising, you’ve been teasing him just as much as he has you, which is clear by the volume contained by his shorts.

He wishes he could ravish your breasts all night, but any more of your squirming and he will come undone without so much as a touch from you.

Wonwoo pulls away, hands once against finding your waist as he pulls you back to his chest.

“You know what comes next, don’t you?” He whispers against your lips, half-lidded, lust-filled eyes gazing so deep into your own.

“I— I’ve never done it before,” You confess.

And something stirs within him, to know he is your first, the first and only man to every touch you this way, to trace his lips over your gorgeous body, to settle inside of you.

Wonwoo smiles and kisses your nose, “I don’t care… But only if you don’t care that I haven’t either.”

You’re surprised, to say the least.

Kissing in between smiles, you raise to your knees, letting him tug at the hem of shorts just enough to free his cock.

It’s nothing like you’ve seen before and unlike the illustrations you remember from school. It’s red and veiny and it glistens with pre-cum under the dim lighting.

But it’s a part of him and you can’t help that your belly stirs at the sight of him stroking himself.

When you reach for the hem of your nightgown, his hands stop you.

“Keep it on—“ He whispers.

“Why?”

“We’ve got all night to take it off,” He runs his tongue through his top teeth with a side smirk and you almost smack him up the head for being such a little shit.

As he asked so kindly, you bunch up your nightgown around your waist, hips circling around his warmth, meanwhile he’s playing with the flesh of your love handles, kneading and running his fingers over your skin.

“Ready?”

You nod. He raises your hips and lets you control the pace, you feed in his cock, centimetre by centimetre, feeling it’s girth tear at your walls with an unimaginable sting, it burns hot and heavy in your hands.

Crashing onto his chest, you cry out a pained yelp.

Wonwoo run his fingers over your back, kissing the top of your head, his eyebrows are bunched up, face painted with worry. “We can stop— Let’s stop—“

“No!” you raise your head and he can see the tiny droplets bundling around your eyelashes, “Just gimme a minute!”

So you sit there, his cock half-in, pulsing angry red and throbbing under the tease of warmth and tightness. Especially when you look so breathtakingly gorgeous, he gulps, leaning back against the headboard, urging his mind to be strong.

It takes you minutes to get used to it, to slowly let the size settle until your muscles are well and accustomed to it and then you start it all over again, feeding the remaining inches until he’s bottomed out.

And oh heavens, how utterly full and hot you felt. Despite the stinging pain, part of you wants to chase the pleasure, clenching in sheer hunger.

Wonwoo stares up at you, looking for any signs of discomfort but he is met with the most enticing, beautiful, and tempting creature he’s ever laid his eyes upon. Your eyes are glassy with tears, but you’ve got a determined look on your face with a hint of a smirk that sends shivers down his spine and up his cock.

“Shit,” He curses out with a smile, leaning back and rutting into your hips only to watch your eyebrows furrow and your mouth gape, a moan threatening to escape. “Ready to move, pretty girl?”

You breathe out, “Yeah.”

Steadying yourself against his chest, you raise your hips, feeling his absence leave you upsettingly empty until you let your body crash back down, his cock impaling you with its warmth once again. You rock against him, shallowly, though the motion is unbearably teasing, even for you.

Wonwoo lets out an obscene, strained moan, fingernails digging into your waist, but you’re too focused on rocking your hips to notice. How he wants nothing but to piston his hips into your pussy like there is no tomorrow, he relishes in the feeling of your warmth, tight and gummy around his throbbing member.

And he finds you might be just as insatiable as he is, especially when you’ve found yourself a steady pace, bouncing up and down, and his name pours out of your lips in such a beautiful manner. Though he can’t just let you have all the control, can he?

“Oh—“ You yip, “Feels so— Good—“ Still unsure of your thought, you explore the feeling, rolling your hips, feeling him stretch your wider, fill your insides and leave you full like you’ve never felt before.

His hips meet yours half way, chasing your cunt every time you leave and pounding into you when you come back down, filling the room with guttural groans and the lewd sound of skin against skin.

You run your fingers under his shirt, feeling bare, warm skin, the softness of his flesh against your hands, the definition of his pecs and the way his nipples peek through the fabric. Wonwoo groans at the way your manicured nails scratch at his chest, gathering momentum as you bounce yourself on top of him.

He notices you’ve started moving faster, practically fucking yourself stupid on his cock and he would tease you halfway through tomorrow if he didn’t find himself in such a similar predicament. His pupils are blown wide, eyebrows furrowed across his brow, pretty lips hanging agape. You’re so utterly perfect and you were all his.

“Tell me how you feel, baby,” He whispers, slowing down for a second.

You sigh, nuzzling against his neck, “So good— I can’t even describe it—“ Your words are so airy and mindless, you’ve been consumed by the pleasure he gives you.

He catches the sight of the white rim that pools around his member, a mix of your juices, but it’s gone, sheathed inside you before he can admire it. There’s a poisoning thought that flashes in his mind, a fleeting, tempting picture. Of planting his seed in your womb, watching your grow full with child, his child. How absolutely breathtaking you would look, round cheeks and gorgeous smile, pretty fingers caressing your bump. And he would taint your taut stomach with his cum, watching it drip over your skin.

Wonwoo bites his lips so hard it breaks skin, throwing his head back, willing his mind somewhere else, anything else lest he come undone right then and there.

Stomach tingling with indescribable pleasure, you lean forward, moaning incessantly, unable to contain your ecstasy. He supports your body, wrapping strong arms around your torso, firm hands planted on your hips, taking over the moving so you can lay still and let the buzz consume your body with its electric touch.

It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before, and it crashes over your body in a colossal wave, building up from the pit of your stomach; sending tingles rushing through your boiling blood.

You raise your head, eyes meeting his and it seems he is familiar with this pleasure. His left hand meets your face, caressing your cheek, yet holding you still so he can gaze, he can watch you come undone around him.

Wonwoo watches, unblinking, how your eyebrows furry, your eyes are glossy with tears that cling to your pretty lashes, your lips sit in an enticing pout. Yet you part them, letting out increasingly louder cries of his name.

And you clench around him like there is no tomorrow, egging him on. He thrusts up into you, riding out your orgasm and chasing his over the edge.

He crashes his lips into yours, savouring your hazy kiss, your tired sighs and it doesn’t take long before he’s spurting hot white strings into you, it trickles down him and stains the silk fabric of his boxers.

Soon, he stills all movement except for heavy breathing and the soothing circles he runs over your exposed back.

He kisses your hair. “How do you feel?”

“Good,” You breathe out, “Tired. But good.”

His chest shakes with a soft chuckle, he runs slender fingers along your hairline, fixing any hairs that cling to sweaty skin. “Me too.”

“It felt amazing,” You smile, raising your head to face him. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”

Wonwoo hums.

“I’m glad it was you, Nonu,” You hid your face against his neck in embarrassment at your own mushy words, but Wonwoo feels their extent, hiding the blush of his cheeks.

It doesn’t take long before the post-orgasm haze lulls you into sleep.

And you slept like never before.

The following morning, Wonwoo wakes up to an empty bed. He panics for a second or two, scrambling to look for your belongings, only to find everything is still there.

Calm, he washes himself up and gets dressed to leave. Finally having a moment to digest the previous night’s events.

He had made up his mind, he would confront his father. His future was his to decide on.

Looking for you, Wonwoo reaches the foyer, only to see you leaning against the wall, attached to the payphone. When your eyes meet his, you immediately say your goodbyes, ending the call.

“Who did you call?” Wonwoo crosses his strong arms against his chest and you try to ignore the sight of his muscly forearms peeking from the folded sleeves.

You don’t like his tone. “Seokmin.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why did you call him?”

“I promised I would,” You shrug.

Wonwoo can’t believe you would call Seokmin out of everyone, especially after you were glued to him last night at the party. “Why him?”

“He’s worried about you, you stupid— Stupid—“ You choke out on any mean names, simply stomping away from him.

Why was Wonwoo being so mean so early in the morning? You thought after the amazing night you spent together things would change between you. Stomping your way back to your room, you grumble under your breath.

While you’re folding your clothes, Wonwoo comes back.

“I’ll talk to my father,” He announces.

Before you can say anything about that, he continues. “We’ll get married— You and I, I mean— ” He clears his throat, “Will you marry me?”

Like a deer in headlights, you’re frozen, staring at him big-eyed with a dopey smile on your lips.

“You’ll marry me?” You question, just in case you’ve tricked yourself into hearing the words you’ve wanted most.

“Yes. And I— I’ll take full responsibility—“

You smile crashes into the ground. “You want to marry me out of… Responsibility?!” The words choke you on their way out.

Wonwoo furrows his eyebrows, not understanding why you would be upset. “Do you not want to?”

“No, I don’t want to fucking marry you!” Not like that.

His face falls and he assumes a much scarier look on his face. “What would you rather marry Seokmin, then?”

And in your fury, you blurt out “Yes! Yes, I would rather marry him!”

You realise your rejection hurt him, you do. But you’re so blindsided by your anger you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he sees you as a responsibility.

Wonwoo is suddenly not so angry, but indifferent. You watch his expression go away, replaced by one much scarier, in your opinion; nothing. A plain poker face.

“Gather your things and go to the car.”

It’s all he says before he leaves the room.

The ride back is the most nerve-racking hours you’ve ever experienced. Wonwoo is silent, even you huff and puff under your breath, angrily chewing on your breakfast of vending machine snacks.

Though he says one phrase as you reach the city. “Leave me here.”

And that’s the last you saw of him for over a month.

Your previous anger dries up, turning into sadness. Then you’re furious. And heartbroken until you’ve accepted your reality. You’ve ruined your friendship and lost the love of your life.

It takes your sister plucking you out of bed for you to finally leave your bedroom in weeks.

She was the first and only person you’ve told about the night spent with Wonwoo. Your parents were absolutely furious that you’d do something so dangerous, though relieved at your safety, they weren’t easy on their words.

“He’s not doing well, you know,” You sister says.

You humph.

“I’m serious. Daddy said he’s clumsy, keeps messing up his work. I think you should go and see him.”

Closing your eyes, you let out a worrisome sigh. You still cared way too much to hear those news and not do something about it.

So you dress up in whatever you can find and drive to his shop, building up a speech on your way there and practising every scenario. You just hoped everything could go back to the way it was.

He’s working on an old model, hunched over the hood in his light blue coveralls, stains of grease from head to toe.

“Knock knock,” You announced your presence, fidgeting with the hem of your dress, looking forward to meeting his eyes as much as you dread to.

Wonwoo immediately recognises your voice, turning around to meet your eyes.

And he looks just as wrecked as you felt. Deep-set eye bags and a tired gaze. Yet he still smiles just as handsomely.

“Hey,” He greets.

“Busy?”

“No! No,” Wonwoo scrambles, placing the wrench down removing his gloves.

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah, I actually— I wanted to talk to you, too.”

It’s somewhat relieving as well at it’s worrying to hear him say that, it could be an apology as well as an insult or something of the sort.

“We should— We should go to my office, someone might come in—“

“Yeah— We should.” You nod.

You walk into his office, one you’ve visited and killed time in quite often. But coming here after everything feels so crushing, all this distance between you.

“Go ahead—“

“You first—“

You both say at the same time and that seems to ease the stubborn awkwardness pooling in the air. You laugh.

“How about we say it together?”

“On 3?”

“1”

“2”

“3”

Breathing in, you say the words that come to your mind from the bottom of your heart.

“I want to marry you.”

“I love you.”

“What?!”

“What?!” Once again, you both say it at the same time.

“You want to marry me?” He breaks into a wide smile.

“And you love me?” The words feel so alien to you, you can barely believe your ears, you feel the tips of your fingers shake in excitement, your heart pounds so strongly against your rib cage you can almost hear the thumping.

Jeon Wonwoo just said he loves you.

“I— Are you sure you want to marry me? You said you didn’t want to!”

“Yes. Well— I’ve loved you since forever! So when you said you wanted to marry me just out of responsibility— I was heartbroken! It’s like you were forced into doing it!”

“I didn’t want to marry you out of responsibility! I’ve been planning to marry you since the beginning—“

You choke, “You what?!”

Wonwoo sighs, “I never wanted to marry your sister and she was well aware of that… We were blessed that she found her husband and when everything went well, I thought— I hoped that it’d mean we’d be the ones to be wed.”

Processing every word, you almost feel dizzy. “But you said you’d take responsibility!”

“For roping you into running away from my party.”

“Oh.” You’re beyond embarrassed for assuming and above all, for getting so angry you didn’t even let him explain himself.

“I should’ve been clearer,” He admits.

“No— I should’ve talked to you.”

Wonwoo smiles. “Thank you.”

With tiny tears threatening to fall, you can only confirm what you want to know the most.

“You love me?”

“Always,” He smiles.

Wonwoo seems to remember something, he raises his finger in a “wait” motion and leans over his desk, reaching for the top drawer. It’s only when you catch a peek of the velvet box that you almost keel over.

Gulping, he gathers his courage.

In his grease-stained coveralls that smells of expensive cologne and lavender cleaning supplies, Jeon Wonwoo gets down on one knee, nervously looking up at your with his stupidly gorgeous beady eyes and an expectant smile.

“Will you marry me?”

And in your least presentable dress, the one he’d ruined with grease stains and an unruly hairdo, you respond with the biggest smile:

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Had you been questioned, there would be an answer to just how long you will love Jeon Wonwoo.

You’ll love him forever.

1K notes · View notes

venusbyline · 12 days ago

Text

Jacaerys Velaryon — Nine Moons.

chapter two (previous chapter)

— summary: After Lucerys' death and the arrival of the dragonseeds, Jacaerys no longer wants to be betrothed with Baela. He wants to marry his twin sister, even if it means going against Rhaenyra's decisions and sealing suffering in your life and his.

— pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x twin sister!reader

— type: dark, sequel to Sleep (but can also be read as a standalone series)

— word count: 2.5k

— chapter's warnings: female!reader, dark!Jacaerys, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Targcest (twin brother/twin sister), forced pregnancy, mild angst, pregnancy kink, manipulation, sexism, possessive behavior, toxic relationship, verbal abuse, sadism, dark content, referenced underage sex, crying, threats of violence, forced marriage mentioned, marriage of convenience mentioned, minor Jacaerys Velaryon/Baela Targaryen, referenced Targaryen/Velaryon Incest (cousins), minor Addam Velaryon/reader, jealous!Jacaerys, canon divergence. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— author's notes¹: Nine Moons is a shortfic, sequel to the one shot Sleep, written for Kinktober. Both Nine Moons and Sleep can be read as standalone.

— author's notes²: Each chapter will have its own trigger warnings.

— author's notes³: Happy Holidays guys <3 <3 <3 I hope 2025 will be an amazing year for all of you. Thank you so much for supporting me this year and my fics. Despite some spam and haters, being able to share my stories with you and interact here were my favorite experiences in 2024.

— high valyrian words used: Idaña (twin)

— crossposting: AO3

During the fifth moon of your pregnancy, the whispers around Dragonstone continued in full force. Jacaerys was busier than ever with the development of the war, preferring to constantly fight with his mother and the Council about the situation of the Dance of the Dragons than to sit for hours inside a stupid library with Baela.

Rhaenyra was determined to keep her son close to her stepdaughter and prevent him from having too much free time to visit his twin sister in the private chambers. Whenever Jace tried to spend more hours than necessary with you, she would find a way to give him some order, whether it was something about Baela or a political opinion.

No matter how much you tried to reassure Jacaerys, the boy was always grumpy and complaining about your mother, complaining about her ridiculous interference between the two of you.

That was why when Baela and Jacaerys were forced to fly together, he did not make any effort to even discuss something with his betrothed. The only sound on the hill being the typical noises made by the dragons after their riders descend at the tip.

As the minutes of silence passed, Baela felt her jaw clenched, watching her cousin sit down on the floor and look away from her, seeming more interested about the sight of the horizon.

Poking the inside of her cheek with her own tongue, the princess finally opened her full lips to speak. "Remember when we were younger? We always used to fly together... Train together..." Jacaerys looked at the girl with some disapproval, ignoring her words and looking back at the sky. This angered Baela again and she pushed him a little more. "You wanted me a lot back then."

Jacaerys snorted, his body still sitting up, but his mind quickly wandered to the days where they had fun together, taking advantage of the fact that Daemon and Rhaenyra were always too busy with their own relationship to worry about whether their children were doing something morally wrong or not.

Either way, not that there were many things morally wrong from the Targaryen family's perspective.

"I was young and brainless. Any tight cunt delights an inexperienced virgin little boy."

As bitter as his words were, Baela could not help but chuckle. "Oh, so now you admit my cunt is good?" She teased, not caring about the furious gaze the prince gave her. "Do not be so surly, Jace. There was a time when I was your favorite girl."

It was Jacaerys' turn to scoff, his face beginning to flush, both from the sun's rays hitting the hill and from the anger that began to course through his veins, fire burning in his eyes as he stared at her, his jaw hard almost like a stone. "My favorite girl has always been my twin sister. You were a cunt for me to fuck and use as I wished. Nothing more than that."

The amusement in Baela's face disappeared immediately, her eyes widening with a mixture of indignation at the lack of respect and hurt at his harsh words. Despite her abrupt silence, Jace did not look guilty at all, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "What is that? You do not look as tough as your father anymore, dear betrothed." He mocked the nickname that was supposed to be sincere and affectionate. "You sound a lot more like your mother now. Two melancholic and annoying women. Always the second option. Never truly chosen and loved. But at least Laena was useful as a broodmare for Daemon, something you did not even get from me."

Baela's eyes darkened, thousands of thoughts running through her mind, from angry insults to possible ways to push Jacaerys off the damn hill. However, anything about those thoughts could just end up with her dead afterwards, and that was out of the question.

Instead of retaliating against his cruel behavior, Baela bit her lip, choosing to follow his gaze to the horizon too and feeling the wind slightly messing up some strands of her white braids.

"Your nausea seems to have subsided, Princess." Addam Velaryon's voice echoed inside the dining room, your head turning so you could face him, pausing your meal for a while so you could continue talking. It was good to have someone other than Jacaerys to talk, even if it did not last long.

"The Maester said that they started to subside from the fourth moon, and now during the fifth it is really easier than before." You wiped your lips with the white napkin, and then pointed to the chair in front of you. Addam nodded, giving you a soft smile and moving to join you at the table. He was not the biggest appraiser of blackberry jam, however, asking the castle's servants to prepare something more nutritious only for him did not seem like a good idea, so he tried his best to hide his discomfort, using the knife to spread some on the toast. "You do not like blackberries so much, do you?"

Addam shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but his lips pulled into an embarrassed smile. "Unfortunately you are right, Princess. But I do not mind eating a little bit just to enjoy Your Grace's company."

A chuckle escaped from you and you put your hand up to cover the mouth, still chewing on a piece of toast. "My apologies for that, Addam. My brother Jace has been very strict with my diet since I was pregnant.'

Despite the playfulness in your tone, a glimmer of concern crossed Addam's face, and he tried to hide it by clearing his throat and pointing to the glass of almond milk next to your hands. "There is a belief that some foods and drinks help with breast milk production." He said and your gaze dropped to the glass and then back to him, waiting for him to keep telling you about the curiosity. "I mean... I do not know if it is true, Your Grace. There are many foolish beliefs that continue to be told and reproduced from generation to generation... But many times I have heard women whispering among themselves about this subject. And apparently both almond milk and blackberry were on their list."

As random as the topic was, you could not help but smile at Addam's knowledge. You watched him while he went back to eating his toast with blackberry jam, trying to hold back your laughter when you noticed the slight frown on his eyebrow. As much as you felt tempted to ask the servants to prepare something different for your cousin, you just kept thinking. "You seem to know a lot about pregnancies, Addam. Do you have any children we do not know about yet?"

Addam chuckled after hearing his joke, coughing a few times after he choked on the piece of toast. "No... Gods, I do not. Not at all." And chucked again when he managed to breathe, awkwardly wiping his lips. "I do not believe I would be a good father or even a good husband."

Your excited facial expression faded, your eyes widening slightly and your lips parted, thinking about something to say. Even though Addam's tone was playful, you were feeling a hint of insecurity and self-loathing in what he was saying.

Without thinking so much, your fingers reached out to try and hold the man's hand and say something reassuring about the whole situation. However, the sound of the dining room doors opening made you step back, straightening up in your chair as Jacaerys and Baela entered the room.

"Dear sister..." Your twin greeted you, cold eyes wandering between you and Addam, an eyebrow raised at the somewhat unusual scene.

"Idaña." You forced a smile at Jace, finishing cleaning your lips dirty with the crumbs from the meal. "Did Vermax and Moondancer have fun?"

Since the last few weeks, you have felt forced to stop asking directly if Baela and Jace were having fun, due to the rudeness your cousin and future sister-in-law said whenever you asked something like that after the tense and obligatory flights. Then, the only possible option to make some effort to lighten their mood was to focus on the subject of their dragons.

"You could say that." Baela muttered without any real emotion, pulling out a chair to sit at the table as well, but far away from you and Addam.

Silence followed while Baela and Addam were eating their toasts and you were drinking the remaining almond milk in the glass. Despite the effort between the four of you to avoid eye contact with each other, you could feel that Jace remained standing in front of the table, probably waiting for you to finish eating so that both of you could have some time alone.

When you placed the glass on the table, a maid came with a tray to remove the used utensils. You murmured an acknowledgment with a soft smile, trying to get up from the chair, the strange twinge inside your belly making you stop immediately, whimpering and placing your hands tightly on the corner of the furniture.

"What is wrong, love?" Jacaerys asked confused, practically moving with the speed of a dragon towards you, his hands on your shoulder to form you back into the chair safely. Addam had stood up and walked around the table, keeping a respectful distance between both of you. Baela continued to sit in the other corner, but her attention was focused on what was happening too. Even the maid was worried, the tray still in her hands as she waited to understand what had happened and call someone else if necessary.

Jacaerys's fingers immediately approached your round belly when he realized you began to hold onto it, your face remaining in a frown, trying to understand what was happening. When your brother called your name louder and more worried this time, you blinked and looked at him with wide eyes. "I... I do not know. I felt some strange twinge, like something was moving inside me."

Jace parted his lips, frowning and about to ask if it hurt too much, but Baela's voice caught everybody's attention. "Your baby moved."

Her words made everyone else in the room look at the younger Targaryen princess. Jacaerys remained with his hand on his stomach, staring at Baela with shock, just like you and Addam. The maid did the same, but soon her face became a little excited, wanting to explain the situation about what was happening in the princess's body. "It is normal to start feeling your baby moving inside your womb from the fifth moon, Your Grace. They are softer than the next ones to come."

"Will they be even stronger?" Your question came with rosy cheeks and wide eyes, looking down and thinking about what it would be like until the end of the pregnancy. You were carrying a true strong boy or strong girl.

After the maid and Jace made sure you were okay, your twin decided to take you to breathe some fresh air in the garden, walking arm in arm with you as if the two of you were a perfect couple, straight out of the romantic tales that people told you when you were younger, always making you blushing, giggling and kicking your feet.

When you were still a little girl. Younger. Even more naive. Even more vulnerable.

An easy target for Jacaerys' obsession and manipulation.

"I am happy that our baby is developing very well in your womb. I bet it will be healthy and brave. An admirable future king or queen." You raised an eyebrow at Jacaerys' ramblings. "It will be merciful to the loyalists, kind to the people, and fearless against those who do not support it, and—"

"What would be disloyalty to you?" The question stopped him. You did not want to continue arguing about the fact that your brother would be sentencing your child to a similar fate like both of you, Lucerys and Joffrey, four kids always being mocked by a large part of the own family for being "legitimized bastards". You had tried to explain it for many months and you were already giving up on bringing some rationality to Jacaerys's mind and his heart.

The boy seemed to think about your words for a while, furrowed brows as you walked and sat on a bench in the garden. "Well, I would say that disloyal will be those who do not bow down to my choices and opinions, those who dare to try to contradict me or those who stand in my way and make it difficult for me to achieve my goals. When I become the King, I will not be merciful in the face of these people."

You agreed silently, despite finding his thoughts a bit extreme for a future king. Considering that no one on your mother's own council seemed to agree with the heir's peculiar actions committed as a way of marrying who he truly wanted, you could not help but worry about their well-being.

Of course you chose not to say anything about that, thanking the Gods when Jace mumbled something off topic. "Since when did you and that mongrel become friends?"

The offensive nickname caught you off guard and you shrugged. "Addam and I are not exactly friends. I barely talk to him. We just sat together today for breakfast. And it was cool, I supposed..."

Jacaerys nodded without enthusiasm, his hand clenched into a fist as he looked at the garden, thinking of something to say and allowing you to admiring the flowers. He liked to stay like this, enjoying the minutes by your side to rid his mind of the hateful thoughts against your family in the last few weeks and be able to be with you, no worries about whether Rhaenyra would curse him later or not.

However, the moment of peace was not going very well, not after your recent sentence. Jacaerys changed the focus of his concentration, stopping admiring the flowers so he could grab your arm and pull you closer to him. It was not exactly a rough or aggressive movement, but it was sudden, making your eyes widened and a few brown strands of your hair swaying against the soft wind, messing up your braids.

"I know very well what Addam is trying to do. Keep allowing it and I will rip that bastard's tongue out with my own hands, Idaña."

Jacaerys' verbal sadism cut like a knife, the cruelty in emotionally threatening you seeming scarier than the violence about the hypothetical act. Even though your eyes remained wide and a single tear ran down your cheek, Jacaerys did not bother wiping it away, a smirk playing on his lips before he placed a kiss on your forehead and walked to the halls, leaving you in the garden, standing and looking at his back. For a moment, you could almost swear your skin felt like it was on fire due his kiss...

Being with Jacaerys was like being burned alive little by little every day, never free from his fire, never free to breathe fresh air, but also never warm enough to allow yourself the peace of dying.

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thesharktanksdriver · 5 days ago

Note

Magical girl y/n christmas canons?

Tinsel, magic and hot chocolate (platonic)

Sorry I released this after Christmas i have written so much that there’s a huge delay whenever I type on this on this

Christmas headcanons babyyyyyyyyy let’s goooooooo

Anyways Merry late Christmas

Masterlist

Christmas wasn’t much of an occasion for you before you were adopted by billionaire philanthropist playboy Bruce/Brucie Wayne

When you lived on your own Christmas was a luxury you could hardly afford to yourself

Maybe if you had a few crumpled dollars saved in the back of your pocket you’d splurge on a hot chocolate at a stand somewhere

Or you’d have a second cup of instant ramen

But besides that there wasn’t much to celebrate besides the fact that with Christmas came winter and that brought the cold

The old apartment you had didn’t have much heating on account of the busted windows, decaying door and fluctuating power

So winter had alway been a life or death scenario every year

The fear of going to sleep and simply not waking up had been to prevalent to enjoy winter

Snow and ice loosing their beauty in the face of the real potential of dying

You couldn’t appreciate the leisure of affording skates to glide across the ice, of dancing and sliding with family or friends at a rink

Couldn’t come to see the beauty in the snow glimmering like thousands of diamonds under sunlight, of laying in its soft cushioning to make snow angels or snowman’s

Before all of this you couldn’t

Not when you had to survive not only for your own sake

But for the sake of your universe at large

Because if you died the shadowmites would eat and destroy everything

Everyone

All the happy families that pass you by on the street as you adjusted a ratty falling apart hand woven scarf would die

As would the kind older vendor who gave soup out to all the unfortunate during the season

The man who dressed as Santa to bring joy despite the fact that the kids in the shitty parts of Gotham didn’t Believe anymore

A store clerk who slips an extra candy cane in your bag when your not looking as a small surprise

The hero’s of the city who worked perilously on the holidays

For the villains you somehow gained the affection of

Croc in the sewers who lets you sit down on your breaks by the heater you’d dug up from the trash, a gift from last year he treasures for both its practicality and sentimentality

Mr Penguin who gives you the extra food from his Christmas banquet you’re invited to, the way in which he may or may not have tried to insist you take a fur coat a customer “conveniently” left behind with the tag still attached

Ivy and Harley who make you scarves and mitts they knitted by hand, the fun brightly coloured yarn held together by love and dedication that helps you get through the winter’s harsh nights

Mr freeze who seems content this season to have some company in his loneliness if even for a few minutes, and though you can’t appreciate the cold like he can due to its threat to your well being you can appreciate the beauty of Gotham blanketed in glistening snow instead of the dreary smog

Riddler who gifts you a bright green wrapped present that is opened with a riddle, inside being a few books that be personally thought were good

Catwoman who ends up gifting you a large throw blanket with a kitschy picture of a cat that helped you survive the long cold nights

But this is all before your adoption

After, it’s much different

Decorating

Christmas at the Wayne’s and winter all together now is a much different experience

For one the decorations

The most you could do was a small little Charlie Brown tree, you’d decorate them with the little bootleg magical girl figure you got from thrift stores or dollarama’s

But somehow Alfred on the first day of December had the entire manor furnished

Garlands lining the walls with Christmas lights and ornaments hanging off them that shine in the warm lighting of chandeliers

Statues and figurines of Santa and his elves on tables, poinsettia’s in the decorative vases dotting the halls

A massive fresh cut Christmas tree hang up in the main living room, the fireplace lit nearby with stockings hung up on the mantelpiece

Each giant sock individualized in different colours and hand stitched with the occupants names

Bruce’s is midnight black, Dick’s is a light blue, Jason’s a traditional bright red, Tim’s a pretty Maroon , Damien’s a forest green, etc

Yours how hangs there as well, your favourite colour in velvet and your name etched in pretty cursive in sparkly thread

The scent of fresh baked cookies and gingerbread wafting from the kitchen whilst pine and cinnamon linger elsewhere

Eventually you’ll even help Alfred in decorating your room to watch with the Christmas decorations of the entire manor

Helping him hang crystal snowflakes that create rainbow infractions from sunlight streaming in from your window, little reindeer figures being added to your bedside

Maybe even a Christmas hat placed atop one of your plushies

Alfred, according to the rest of the manor residents goes ham for all holidays

Christmas, Halloween, Easter, birthdays, Valentine’s Day, Father’s Day, you name it and he has an entire garages worth of decorations neatly stored away in boxes that he’ll somehow unpack overnight and have half the manor done within 5 hours

A feat truly unprecedented consider this place was a maze of hallways with at least 150 rooms that you’d counted so far

All of which were decorated in some sort of Christmas attire or theme

One was Santa themed, another Christmas tree themed, the one down the hall somewhere was frosty the snow man and a different one was filled with memorabilia from the old stop motion Rudolph films

Somehow them the British man was able to get his hands on some of the spare genuine figures used for that film (and the other ones from the sequels)

All of which now have a correlating Wayne manor resident

Alfred of course is Sam the snow man from that film, umbrella and bowler hat going all too well with him

Apparently when Jason was younger he begged for his to be Rudolph, a fact Bruce nor Dick ever let him live down

At some point during the first weeks of December the entire family gathers to decorate the tree

Quite honestly you thought you’d just hang out in your room while that happened since you had no idea what to really do

Your tiny “tree” didn’t have any traditional ornaments, only your figurines

But not even two minutes after the decorating supposedly started Damien basically kicked down your door with Jason and dragged you to join the tree decorating

Turns out no one can escape this fate

And they all refused to start without you, especially since this would “be your first year to witness the decoration war”

You quickly learn what that means when half the family is arguing on what colour scheme the tree should have

It’s basically an all out war while your sitting beside Damien who looks on

By the end of it all red and gold wins by a smidge

Mostly due to the fact Alfred got accidentally friendly fired by Dick and decided for everyone

You’d never seen Dick so afraid in your life, he looked ready to write his will in that moment

But once that’s finished the decorating actually starts

There’s no real strategy to how they do it

Tim tries to make a plan but it quickly falls through when the others began grabbing random bits and bobbles to hang on the tree

Red and gold balls of glass, old and delicate

Other ornaments of stuffed bears, cups of hot cocoa, a plate of cookies and more

You gravitate mostly towards these ones, the unique ornaments you’d used to see in store displays but could never afford

Ones you’d wish to have but could never hold

The others seem to catch on to this quickly, since they basically give you the box holding them all and hoisting you up to decorate the high points of the tree you couldn’t reach

This almost becomes an argument too when Dick complains that Jason is hogging you

Damien steps in immediately after literally swooping down from nowhere with a grappling hook to take you and bring you to the other side of the tree

All the while stating that once more he’s your favourite sibling

You can’t say he’s wrong when he objectively isn’t

Along with the fact he looks so genuinely happy over the fact

Once the tree is finished all that’s left is the topper

The crowning moment of the tree

With how everyone is looking to you your not surprised when Alfred hands you the crowning piece

They had several out while debating the Christmas tree and one stood out to you

It wasn’t the traditional star, it was a pretty angel

With white feathered wings and flowing brown hair atop a red velvet dress lined in gold

She just stood out to you from the bunch, of course this house full of detectives would notice you gazing at her for 20 minutes admiring the detail

Bruce is the one who lifts you up to place the angel

The only one so far who’d yet to help you reach the top

His hold gentle and stable

Smiling up at you urging you that it’s all alright

That you get to place the most important piece

You can’t help but feel a bit hesitant with all the attention on you on such an important moment

You’d never done something this before

Not for real anyways

You didn’t think topping your dinky tree with the only good figure you had could count

But now your crowning a real Christmas tree

With your family, all of whom look up at you cheering you on

It feels so overwhelmingly nice and cozy

You’d never thought you’d feel this during the season you’d dread

But here you are, lifted to reach atop a giant tree and placing an angel atop it all to look after you all until winter goes

Like the angel you feel the responsibility to drive out all evil forces to protect those in this mansion

The family who cheer loudly when you place her at the top and practically tackle you in a hug when your put back down on the wooden floor

As everyone celebrates you can’t help but look atop the tree

The angel looking down at you whilst Rigel slumbers atop your shoulder

Only being brought back when his nose nudges your cheek, turning your attention to your group of rowdy brothers who beckon you for yet another Christmas activity

Christmas baking

Once upon a time ago many years back you were able to afford a gingerbread house

It was after a few weeks of scrounging for money in wherever you could find it

Spare quarters and loose pennies making up the total of 15 dollars you’d decided to splurge on the cookie house

It didn’t end up looking good but didn’t mind at all, not when you’d feasted on the spare gumdrops that were hard and sour

Or the too sweet icing in a small plastic packet

On Christmas Day you’d eaten the house itself as your gift that year

Dividing it into small pieces to save for later as your future meals and snacks for patrols

Along with sectioning out some for Rigel who insisted you take care of yourself before them

This year though at Wayne manor baking Christmas goods is much less of a luxury and more a constant during the Christmas season

Alfred, you’ve quickly come to learn even before being adopted, was a baking god

That man could bake things you’d think would be served up to the gods on an alter

From his mouth watering cookies to his baked Alaska that nearly made you cry

His skills were no match

And during Christmas he apparently went crazy with baking

Chocolate chip Cookies galore, gingerbread made by hand, candycanes someone made by hand despite the long procedural process of kneading the sugar, sugar cookies with hand made icing that he piped into snowflakes and mini versions of the batfamily

The work he did was no joke

As was his “no one baking but me” policy after everyone else in the family somehow almost set the kitchen on fire

Yeah everyone else in the family was banned after trying to help him one year

Wayne manor nearly burnt down and now only your allowed there with him

Though you guessed that may have also been because he wanted to spend time with you

Something you can’t fault him for since you also like spending time with him as well

Since your new to baking Alfred is a guiding gentle hand

He shows you how to measure out ingredients correctly

Kneed the dough just enough

Pipe icing on cookies

Even let’s you nibble on the spare cookie dough and chocolate chips

Something he makes you keep a secret lest the others in the house get jealous

Throughout all the baking Alfred talks with you about all types of things

He asks you about your Christmases before this

Talks about being in MI6 and raising Bruce

Quietly probes you for Christmas gifts you’d like

Let’s Rigel perch around his shoulders and around his neck like a scarf

It’s all heartwarming and cozy

Especially as he seems so genuinely happy that this year you get to experience a proper Christmas

Not alone in a dingy apartment

But instead surrounded by friends and family

He seems all too proud when your both done with baking and made delectable sweet treats

He seems even more proud when the extra you made end up in containers that you say you’ll hand out to some friends

Thankfully he doesn’t ask when later that night you go out on patrol with a little basket and Christmas cards

He just tells you that if needed he’ll make more

It seems even villains can’t resist his cooking

Especially not with how Croc gobbles down the entire container or how Harley begs for the recipe

Riddler not one for chocolate chip cookies but enjoys the ginger snaps and shortbread cookies you bring instead

Mr.Freeze who quietly thanks you for the sugar cookies made to look like nutcrackers and ballerinas, something he said to you once before that Nora loved during the season

Two face and Harvey seem nostalgic, it makes sense considering Harvey’s friendship with Bruce

He’s been over at Christmas before his decent

When he asks how you have the recipe you just say that an old man asked you to deliver them to him

For the first time in the season you see him melt ever so slightly

He doesn’t need to say thank you, not with how he pats your head and tells you to stay warm

When you go off he hands you one of the cookies

Something you can’t help but smile gleefully at

Later that night you make sure to make extra for the next delivery along with little gingerbread men

All of which are decorated to look like the receivers of the delivery

Ice skating

You’d never learned to skate mostly because you could never afford skates

Public rinks were open during the winter in certain part of Gotham, typically the nicer areas though near crime alley you’d seen a few smaller opens opened up for kids

Though you’d never had the time to go to one

Sure, you could glide across the ice without the needed equipment but it wouldn’t be as fun. And sure, you could technically use your transformation powers to make yourself a pair of skates

But that would be a waste of your limited powers for something so trivial

And it was a skill not typically needed, it’s not like you were fighting Mr freeze on a month to month basis

So you bite your tongue and would continue on when seeing a rink on your way back to your old apartment

Eyes lingering on the families teaching their young ones to skate

To the pretty ice skater dancing as if she were a ballerina

To the group of friends off to the side enjoying a cup of hot cocoa from a small stand nearby

Still too overpriced for you to afford nor enjoy without risk of not affording rent let alone heating

The minute Dick learned this he was already off taking you to a sports supply store and having you try more skates than you’d known existed

From more heavy duty to sleek and petite

He has you try them on

Finding whichever was more comfortable to your feet before you finally settled on a pair

But even after that the shopping wasn’t done

He bought pretty ribbons to replace the laces, skate guards and blade covers

And then off you were suddenly at a rink with him guiding you along the ice

Quite honestly the spectacle of people watching the two of you and awing at the scene is a tad bit embarrassing

But Dicks genuine enthusiasm makes up for it

Though it doesn’t make up for the fact that you’ll be seeing his ass picks later on

Because god, why does he have to give them more fuel to the fire

You’d tried multiple times to get him to stop bending down and hunching over

But he seems to occupied in teaching you to notice the rabid clicks of pictures being taken behind him

Once you get a slow hand of it he takes your gloved hand and lets you take the reigns

Letting you chart the course across the ice

Past equally happy families that have the same smile that he does

Pride gleaming in it like a unyielding fire

Apparently back when he was apart of the circus he sucked at skating he admits

He could do acrobats 20 feet in the air just fine but had two left feet when it came to the ice

His parents never got frustrated though, neither did Bruce

But they one day said that he’d get it if he put his heart into trying again and again each winter

And that he’d be good enough to one day teach someone else as well

He remarks with a smile that it seems they were right

He says this all the while he stared into the overpriced hot chocolate with whip cream

Little green and red sprinkles in his as well as your own cup

Silently you smile and take his hand to go out on the ice once more when he’s finished his drink

You think that Mr and Mrs Grayson would be proud of him

Though you don’t need to say that aloud when his smile says it all

(Unfortunately you we’re right about the ass shots flooding your feed, though it was also mixed with people gushing over how adorable the scene was and how cute you are. You don’t open social media for the next couple of days for various reasons, your bashful expression is poked at by Damien who says he can hunt down the users if you’d like)

Gift shopping

Buying gifts for others was yet another luxury you couldn’t typically afford

So you used to scavenge for things

The heater for croc is a good example

As are the pots you then hand painted for Ivy and Harley

This year though it’s a bit overwhelming as Bruce takes you shopping for gifts

Store after store

His obsidian credit card that he pulled out for nearly everything you so much as dare to look at for over 5 seconds

The guilt that he’s spending his money for you

So far you’d picked out good gifts for everyone else

Even going as far to get some for Titus, your….non law-abiding citizen friends and some for the justice league

But you were still unused to it all without looking at the price tag

Something Bruce all but basically banned you to do and just said to put anything in the cart

And by Anthony he meant anything

You were staring too long at the car displayed in the mall and he nearly took you to a car dealership to buy you one

And then went on about customizing it for your or that persons taste

You sure anyone would like Ferrari but your not quite sure how you’d explain buying one to the receiver

Throughout it all Bruce looks more content than you’d thought he’d be when your spending his money

Sure, he’s a billionaire but typically they like to save and horde money, not freely spend it n frivolous things like this

But it seems Bruce had been the outlier

Maybe he’s always been

You’d gotten to Gotham academy because of his scholarship programs before he knew your existence

Certain parts of Gotham were in better state due to the Wayne corporations work and job listings

The Martha and Thomas Wayne fundraiser each year raised millions in charity

It’s still all so weird

But you have a small moment of clarity when entering a small anime store

Bruce chats up the worker at the counter, pulling out his Brucie persona

And he lets you reign free to buy stuff

You browse the figures, even finding a few you’d like for yourself that your almost 100% sure he’s gonna ask the owner to hold and have Alfred pick up later

But then you get to the dvds section

And in the bottom shelf you find old VHS’s

Your finger grazes across their spines alphabetically

And then it stops on a pretty pink one

It’s old and slightly faded

But you know this one by heart

This was one of your old sailor moon’s VHS’s, the one that you played so much that it eventually stopped working

The box was the only thing left of the thing, there was no use in keeping a messed of tape

So you had to sadly throw it out

The memories flood back of that tape

The episodes you know by heart

The line delivery (a male voice mocks it and brings you to tears)

The cheesy voice acting (something a female voice complained about)

The night spent alone watching it before Rigel came along (the sense of feeling of overwhelming loneliness waiting for someone to come back)

Huh? Your reminded of something?

Your parents, you forgot you even had those at one point

The cold seeps through an broken window past the flimsy sheer curtains

You hear them moving stuff, muttering to themselves quietly as you sit in front of the old box tv

Their voices muffled and static, grating your eardrums in fuzziness

You hum along to moonlight densetsu as sailor moon appears on screen

When she strikes her pose you do so as well, mirroring the action with your pudgy hands

A thump alerts you away from the screen

Two blurred figures, your parents stand by the door

Bags beside them filled to the brim

“We’re going to get groceries, you now how to use the stove” to your 5 year old mind this was normal

You didn’t know someone your age shouldn’t be left alone for hours on end

Shouldn’t be able to use the stove

Shouldn’t look to the tv as your only friend and mentor in keeping you alive

It was sailor moon who taught you to show kindness to others

Mew mew showed you to protect your home

Sakura told you to love others no matter their appearance or gender

Utena proved girls could fight and be just as strong as men

It was Honoka and Nagisa from pretty cure who taught you courage

It was never your parents, it was the reruns and old VHS’s you watched until they couldn’t play anymore and you knew the episodes by heart

You remember those shows so clearly, each episode and line delivery

And yet you couldn’t remember your mom or dad besides the one memory

They were so insignificant in the few years of your life they’d been in

And it’s that night watching sailor moon they left you

Abandoned you in a ratty apartment that they were gonna be kicked out of for not paying their bills

Left you to watch your only good facet in your life

Magical girls

Except now you imagine the memory differently

Your watching your sailor moon but there’s no shuffling in the background

Not the sound of them preparing to leave

Just silence before you feel a presence beside you

Turning your head you see Bruce, sitting beside you

Though now instead of kneeling on the floor your in the private theatre in a comfortable leather chair

The night he surprised you with getting your favourite series to play in it

And even if he didn’t understand the plot or what was going on he watched with a smile

He watched beside you, not once leaving your side

You pick up the old vhs with a nostalgic smile, thumb trailing down the back to read the episode list

The ones you remember by heart

Like by line

You put it back knowing somehow it would end up in your stocking this year

You wonder if the rest of the family would enjoy watching as well even without any context to the show

playing in snow

You used to hate the snow, and ice and all things cold except for Mr freeze and the cheap Dairy Queen Sunday’s you bought in the summer to cool down

But besides that you couldn’t stand it

You could play in the snow without risk of getting sick

Your winter boots already holes and your mitts were falling apart as it was

If you made snow angels or made snowballs you’d be left wet and cold

And there was nothing at the apartment to really dry you

Unless you wanted to waste Rigels magic to do so

And that wasn’t an option when every night you were breaking a rib or snapping your arm again

It seemed during Christmas as well Shadowmites got worse

For the season of giving and love there sure was a lot of hated that they feed off of

And unfortunately you were at the brunt end of it all

They gifted you broken bones and bloody scratches

So if others considered you a Scrooge for not liking the season you had every reason as to why

Not to mention by the end of your fights you were freezing and drenched

An even worse combination when bleeding and stumbling on a broken foot

Ba humbug

So when Jason takes you to go tobogganing your less amused than an average kid should be

To be fair your not exactly and “average kid” with the whole magical girl powers and all

But still, he had expected a bit more enthusiasm and less confusion

Safe to say Jason is a bit like Dick realizing you never learned to skate

Though unlike Dick, Jason can acclimate as to why

Growing up in crime alley was a lot like your own childhood

But back then he had friends, other kids to play with in the snow

He knew what fun it could bring because of that but you didn’t

And he decides to try and fix that

So throwing you your snow boots and zipping up his coat he all but almost drags you out the manor

A sled in hand while Rigel curls up around you like a scarf

His boots thumping through the snow creating satisfying crunches

Wayne manor’s grounds were huge, and unknown to you was that it also had a hill

Like a proper hill hidden behind dead shrubbery and snow covered trees

Something Jason shows off with a proud smile

He sets up the sled as you admire the view

It looks more like something from one of those old 2 million dollar paintings kept in a private collection away from the public

You see Gotham dusted in snow, refracting light creating a diamond-like sheen across the city

Snow falling around framing the entire world

It’s pretty in a way you handy really seen before now took a moment to enjoy

“Hey! Hop on”

Turning around you see Jason on the sled patting the spot in front of him

With a small nod you slid into the spot, settled comfortably between his legs as he wretched his arms past you to grab the reigns

“Ready?”

His eyes shine and you see the faintest tinge of green mixed in blue

You nod grabbing the reigns as well

He smiles and scoots the sleigh to the edge

Letting gravity do the rest

The sleigh starts its descent down the hill, gliding across the snow picking up speed

It’s a bit bumpy

A bit scary

But you hear Jason yell in excitement and your voice joins his in symphony

Before crashing down to the bottom and falling off the sled into the snow nearby with a audible thump

Almost immediately your older brother searches but finds you laying face up in the snow with a smile

A laugh tumbling out your mouth all the while Rigel chitters in a similar manner

Jason flops down beside you

From the hill when you go back down again you see both his and your snow angels side by side

Gift wrapping

You couldn’t wrap for shit, that is something you knew very well when one year you tried

Keyword tried

To wrap up a present for Rigel with scraps of wrapping paper you found in a garbage somewhere

It looked more like a Picasso painting of a wrapped present than a present itself

But unlike wrapping presents you could tie bows

Something Tim couldn’t do

You’d seen him try for 30 minutes and it looked….well it looked bad

It looked like a snake strangled itself to death

Or a noose trying to hang itself

Plane and simple its atrocious

But combining your skills together you both are actually competent

So the two of you decided to team up to create the wrapping league

Even if said league was more like a duo than anything

And was less about end of the world scenarios and moreso just about competently wrapping gifts

But to be honest it’s just fun hanging out with Tim

He’s just someone who knows just about everything due to unlimited internet access

Which could be for better or the worst

But that’s either which way

Tim knows all the shows you talk about no matter how obscure

Apparently when Bruce was researching you Tim had convinced him watching all seasons of sailor moon was for research purposes

As was watching nearly half of all the pretty cure series

And madoka magica

And mew mew

And- you get the point

How he did this? Being delirious to the point Bruce just agreed to anything he wanted so long as he promised to sleep for a good 12 hours

And so for a week straight the home Wayne theatre was his for the taking

For “research” though to anyone who looked in it was mostly definitely for his own viewing

But because of that no matter what show you mention he has watched it

There’s no awkward explaining of the plot

Nor the fact midway through you’d typically stop since most by then would just awkwardly laugh and say they’ll check it out which was code word for “haha no that show sounds weird as shit and I won’t touch it with a 20 foot stick and your weird too stop talking already”

Tim has seen it already and passionately talk to you about it for half an hour straight with no breaks between either of you

Tim is unabashed in his interests

Whether that be 16th century poetry or the most obscure damn show on the internet he picked up for funsies

Tim can and will talk about anything

Andrew with passion too

There’s no awkwardness when you speak to him

It’s just a genuine conversation and interaction

He talks about his favourite episode and characters

His most hated

Favourite scenes or fights

Fan Theories and his own

It feels validating

Because you know he isn’t judging you

He’s just genuine

That’s a lot more than any present you wrap

Your not sure if he knows that though

By the time either of you have wrapped the presents neither of you know that partway in Alfred began to secretly wrap to give you both more time to talk

Opening presents

Christmas morning used to be a morning of quiet

You’d wake up with Rigel and make yourself a small meal and enjoy the day mostly relaxing or preparing for the night when you’d inevitably go out to kill Shadowmites

This years Christmas morning is very different though

Your awoken at 8 on the dot in the morning by Damien who’s standing at your bedside in what looked to be a hand knit sweater

Before you have time to wake up (especially since last night was long as hell) you have a similar sweater shoved in your face

It’s your favourite colour much like the stocking Alfred hand made

So it’s safe to assume he somehow had the time to knit this as well

The shimmery white yarn creating intricate patterns of snowflakes and bunnies frolicking in the snow

Still clad in pyjamas and throwing on the sweater Damien all but drags you from your room and through the long hallways

Feet only clad in socks slapping against the wooden floor

Exhaustion slowly leaving you when your handed a cup of hot chocolate by Alfred

And seeing the absolute mountain of presents stacked under the tree

It’s an mind blowing amount (at least to you)

A sea of patterned paper and bows gleaming under the chandelier light

Stockings stuffed to the brink above a already lit fire

Alfred waiting expectantly on a cushioned chair, old eyes lighting up when seeing the sweater your wearing

By now the others slowly start to trickle in

Bruce looking equally as tired as you in a silk robe topped off with a Christmas hat with a fake beard

Jason not too far behind pushing Dick and Tim out the way

Dick and Tim nearly eating shit on the carpeting because of Jason

Everyone wearing similar sweaters

During the ordeal of opening presents you hand out the ones you’d bought for everyone

A certain sense of satisfaction and nervousness flooding you as you watch their reactions

You’d gotten them many gifts for each but there was one main gift for each you’d spent some time finding (or in one case working on)

Somehow you’d gotten a first edition copy of Moby dick for Jason which resulted in your being thrown in the air and given a back breaking hug

For Dick you scrounged up old “flying Graysons” circus posters at a few vintage stores, somehow you’d gotten another reaction like Jason

In which you nearly ended up air-bound if not for Damien

Speaking of which, for Damien you called in a favour from Klarion for a duel gift to get a rare sapphire encrusted sword Al apparently lost a millennia ago

Apparently it was in some desert beneath 300 feet of sand

Tim got a vintage camera he’d been eyeing for a long time but hadn’t been able to find

For Bruce instead of buying him something you opted to make him something instead

Compared to some of the other gifts it’s simple but you made him a scrapbook with the help of Alfred

It complied everything from his adoption of Dick to you

Every page was themed and included things like dried flowers to old tickets and stickers according to theming

It’s a behemoth of a book

Practically took up 3 months of work when not busy with school or patrols or when Bruce wasn’t around

But it ends up being perhaps the most heartfelt gift of them all

Bruce hugs you?

It’s a weird thing, especially when you swear you almost see him cry

He holds you close to his heart

Alfred insisted you didn’t get him anything but you end up with a similarly handmade gift in the form of recipes written on parchment and bound together in a beautiful ribbon

When asked you simply say you got it from a friend, specifically Mrs.C

And then it comes time for your own presents

And it’s a bit overwhelming

So many boxes wrapped in elegant paper addressed to you

All tied together with pretty bows and streamers

Box after box is handed to you as Damien sits by your side

You’d haven’t even opened any yet and everyone is fighting amongst one another on who’s you should open first

When all of a sudden Damien reveals you’d already opened one

Much to everyone and your own confusion

Except for Alfred who smiles alongside the Al Ghul

Damien points to your sweater

And it sets in for everyone

Turns out he made the Christmas sweater

Not Alfred

When the butler was beginning work on yours Damien insisted he wanted to make it for you

So Alfred obliged and taught him how to knit through the past couple months and make the design

It explains the bunny’s on the sweater

Alongside why he one day came to you holding up several shades of yarn and asked which was your favourite before scurrying off somewhere

After that more presents are opened

Damien smirking and glaring with pride as Tim, Jason and Dick hand you more presents

Unsurprisingly a lot of it is magical girl based merchandise

Though it’s also mixed with a plethora of things like clothes, plushes, books and even some jewelry

From under the tree you even get gifts from a few justice league members

And you some from a few villains as well that Bruce explained stopped him last night and demanded be given to you since you were off duty this Christmas

Though by how you keep repeat rubbing your eyes it seems less like it

“You alright there?” Dick asks as he hands you another present from under the tree, another figurine to add to your growing collection

“Yeah, I’m really tired from last night” you explain rubbing the back of your neck making the rest of the family look at you in confusion

Jason speaks up first, “but you weren’t on patrol last night? We all told you to take Christmas off”

“I wasn’t on patrol…or at least a traditional one” you explain pulling up your phone, it was still weird getting used to this stupid thing. Too many apps and buttons for your taste.

“What exactly does that mean sister?” Damien prodded as you pulled up a picture on your phone.

Holding your phone up the rest of the family goes silent, there in picture form is you in a magical angel ensemble with a halo wings and all but it’s where you are that’s the most interesting. In the background of the picture is a bunch of reindeer attached to the vehicle you were in, the further most deer emanating a red light from its nose that helps light the way through the snow raining down from the heavens as the rest navigate overtop Paris and the Eiffel Tower.

The silence is broken when everyone but an unsurprised Alfred at the top of their lungs begin demanding answers to an obvious question.

????

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the enormous house not a peep was spoken not even a mouse

The family was out all but you, a little girl tucked asleep in her room

But by the stroke of midnight something a tap tap tap rattled you from your sleep

And by your window there stood a man on his sleigh

20 feet up in the air because your room was on the second story floor

A jolly man in red, the one and only Santa Claus tapped at your window and-

Yeah…enough with the rhyming stuff this is getting difficult

So yeah, last night imagine your surprise when you woke up to find Santa tapping on the glass of your window

The jolly iconic man in white and red waving you over to open it

When Santa entered through the window he sat down and asked for you help

Apparently the shadowmites were something even he couldn’t exactly deal with

And when he’s dealing with delivering presents it’s not exactly nice being knawed on by shadow creatures

So he implored your help to make sure Christmas went smoothly this year

And how could you say not to an offer like that

So transforming into your magical outfit you decided what you’d do for your theme

And picked an angel, specifically a snow angel based on the snow angels you’d made with Jason and the angel atop the Christmas tree

Because you’d be looking over everyone just as she did

And so you hopped on Santa’s sleigh and got to work with him delivering presents

Quite honestly delivering presents with St.Nick is quite a fun job

He’s warm and friendly, answering your questions and laughing with glee when explaining stories to you

The reindeer are equally friendly

On the occasionally breaks taken for cookies and milk you get to pet them

Rudolph affectionately booping his nose against your own or Cupid having you readjust her bows attacked to her antlers

A feat according to Santa was something few were allowed to do

And Rigel who sat in Santa’s shoulder

The two talking like old friends

Which implied that Santa was some sort of godly being like him

Which…honestly tracks of your honest

How else would he be able to do this in a single night?

Let alone the fact he had a magical bag containing all his gifts and letters

Along with a list that magically tells him if someone was good or bad within the span of a year

So yeah, safe to assume he’s some sort of god

Maybe like Alfred

Off into the night sky you go, taking a seat beside the gift giving man as he handed you his list to read aloud

A check mark beside a name signifying if they were good and a X for if they were bad

Most names you didn’t recognize as you expected

But a few make you pause

And makes you pull out from the magical bag beside you the gifts you’d been holding for said somebodies

Apparently the sack contained Santa’s gifts and the gifts of anyone during Christmas

Yours included

And Santa just laughs in joy when you ask if you could deliver your own presents as well

John Constantine nearly choked on his cigarette when you appeared at the house of mystery with Santa in tow

The living house shifting around the two of you as you climbed down the chimney with your gift in hand

He can only take it wordlessly before you and Santa climb back out like nothing happened, the house of mystery even creating bricks for proper footing on the way out

For the house you also leave a gift in the form of a pretty wreath for the door

A shudder waves back and forth as you both fly away

Klarion in his own personal realm before you and Santa came crashing in politely with a knock on an inter dimensional door

Because of you this year he somehow worked his way onto the good list

The bottom if the good list but still on it regardless

And thus got more than a chunk of coal for his efforts from Santa

Plus your gift to him of the limited edition 2016 discord and fluttershy figure

Later on in the night when you both fly past Clark he does a double take and seems like if he was Wondering if he was hallucinating

In Atlantis you leave a gift for Arthur under a Christmas tree shaped out of coral

Though themyscira doesn’t exactly celebrate you and Santa do leave a gift for Diana and some of the Amazonians

In Gotham beneath a small Charlie Brown Christmas tree you leave to Waylon a new heater plus Santa’s gift of a heated blanket

You leave something for Harley and Ivy plus some new toys for bud and Lou beneath their freshly grown Christmas tree

Santa even takes you off the planet to do a tradition of his that he did ever year

Aka giving coal to some guy called darkseid

He sounded vaguely familiar but besides Gotham villains you didn’t pay attention beyond that

Apparently he’s at the top of the bad list each year

You wait on the sleigh for when he delivers the coal

But watch as laser beams try to shoot you both down as Santa laughs at whoever shoots them

Even when the beams twist and turn and try to keep up before eventually stopping

But it’s eventually through most of the night that you realize something

There were barely any Shadowmites at all

At least not enough for Santa to be worried about and employ your help with

So it brings up the question, why were you brought on to help this year

And it’s a question the old man answers quite easily as you both sail through to the North Pole for a small pit stop

“Well young lady I thought I’d give you a bit more of different type of gift this year” the jolly old man explains rubbing his long white beard tangled with a few candycanes and cookie crumbs. His grin is unrivaled as is his moustache that’s curled like an old cartoon character, giving him a fun air of whimsy.

“What do you mean?” You end up asking, looking to him in confusion

He smiles, digging out his magic bag some letters that he hands to you. Each are from a different sender but almost all from Gotham, or surrounding area’s. When you read them you begin to understand. Each are addressed to Santa from numerous different people, some are kids, some adults, but all ask for one thing this Christmas, and it’s that you have an amazing Christmas this year. In each letter they detail how you saved them or helped them in some capacity, and that this year instead of a gift for themselves they wanted to give you something.

But that isn’t all, more letters begin to pour out the bag as the sleigh glides atop the Aurora borealis. More and more letters than you could count on your own, all detailing that they wanted you to have a merry Christmas. they fly past but you hear their contents as they fall into the green glow of the aurora which after a moment create phantom memories of the writers form, shimmery wistful versions of them made of greens and purples reading out their letters.

“Don’t think that I didn’t notice that every year you worked hard on Christmas just as I did” the old man tuts, patting your head before going back to guiding his reindeer “though the difference between you and me was Christmas spirit. Though, I can’t blame you for not having it considering circumstance. But year after year of those letters asking for you to have a good Christmas as their gift, and there wasn’t much I could give to do that. So what better to do than give you something a bit different instead? An experience can still be a gift can it not? Especially when it gives you the Christmas spirit you long missed out on”

What he says makes you pause, year after year implies that ever since you began being a magical girl he’d gotten letters asking for this one Christmas wish. And it was yearly that others asked for you to be happy during this holiday, you of all people.

You’d never really understood Christmas until that moment, and it hits you all at once

When you dry your tears into the soft red velvet of Santa’s coat he doesn’t say anything, he just holds you close saying that “you of all people on my list deserves a very merry Christmas ever year my dear”

“And that’s how I ended up exchanging recipes with Mrs claus and ended playing black jack with krampus” you explain showing more photos to your increasingly mortified family

“Well…I….you know what I don’t really know what to say to this” Bruce mutters completely stumped as the others don’t look like their faring any better

If they thought this was weird your not sure how your gonna explain meeting the personification of dreams named Morpheus and also befriending him

But maybe that was a bombshell for another time

#magical girl y/n #dc x reader #platonic #dc #batman x reader #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne x reader #Tim Drake x reader #jason todd x reader #Damien Wayne X reader #alfred pennyworth #jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood #Tim Drake #nightwing x reader #Nightwing #damien wayne #bruce wayne

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evieelyzabethh · 6 months ago

Note

Hey can u do a spike smut

I have another Spike smut fic coming so I'm gonna use this to drop my sfw and nsfw Spike headcannons because fun fact, the buffy brain rot is real and I have over 100 pages of buffy reboot material. anyways...

warning: not proofread

sfw:

Spike purely smokes because he thinks it makes him look cool. I think when it comes to vampires, they either physically cannot feel the effects of drugs or are lightweights. He hates the smell of smoke, hence the duster jacket, and refuses to smoke in his crypt because of the shit ventilation

Speaking of smoking, William was most definitely asthmatic. He had no friends in boys school because too much physical movement sent him wheezing. He did enjoy horseback riding though

He has poetry stashed somewhere, I just know it. Under some slab of rock or rolled in some random alcohol bottle pirate style, it's somewhere.

Spike would love an English major or anyone who has a hobby aligned with creative writing. This doesn't mean he'd automatically show you anything he's written but he'd be more open to the possibility sooner rather than later.

Very picky with what he steals/wears. He will not just put any old rags on. He dressed Drusilla and he is a fashion icon and I stand by that

As for him with a partner, I do think he is the type to fall first and incredibly hard

I think how familiar you are with one another would dictate a lot. If you were a Scooby, I wouldn't say he'd keep his distance, but he wouldn't be super outright with his affection. There'd be some playful banter here and there, dare I say some flirting, and maybe even some gift-giving every now and again. He's like a crow, he'd be the type to drop things on your windowsill just because it reminded him of you

If you two didn't know each other, he'd most definitely be the stalking type. Every time you're walking home from school, there WILL be a dark figure following you around. You're getting harassed by some rando? If you paid attention to the newspaper, you'd see they mysteriously went missing. You can go from eyeing something while window shopping to it magically ending up on your doorstep

Never the one to make the first move. He wouldn't say a word unless he was 100% confident that you liked him back, and even then, there'd be a lot of hesitation

He would love a forward partner. Someone who makes his insecurities melt away and who he doesn't have to worry about them ever getting over him. When he loves, he loves forever. He has all of time to love you and his ideal partner would be someone who wants to spend all of time with him

He is such a romantic!!! I think he would be so into matching couples costumes or just matching outfits in general. Super into domesticity wherever he can get it, decorating a home together, cleaning together, cooking together, doing anything together

Since he can't have a job, I do see him being a house husband. It gives him something to do during the day. Wears a 'kiss the cook' apron and pouts if you don't give him kisses while wearing it. I headcannon that he spent time all over Europe, including France, and had some really good pastries at some cafe that closed like 200 years ago and made it his life's mission to recreate them. The grocery bill is high but it makes him happy

Valentine's Day is his absolute favorite holiday and he makes a big deal of outdoing himself every year. Not in terms of money or extravagance, but meaning. He treats every day as a new one to know more about you. It's not enough to know your favorite color, he needs to know the exact shade, exact hue, and exact context you love it in. He knows your allergies, remembers your favorite outfits, and keeps track of your cleaning habits so he can make everything shiny and new when you forget yourself. He becomes a master of all trades to make you whatever you want exactly how you want it

He does really like Halloween, too. He's a huge fan of the Scream movies. He dislikes when horror movies try too hard. Being so used to gore, blood, and guts, he prefers a funnier, more unserious scary movie

Speaking of blood, he starts out against drinking from you. He used to only do it to kill someone, or at least with the intent to cause harm. He didn't trust himself not to get overwhelmed and hurt you. But I feel like at some point he either gets hurt on patrol or his stash gets low and you both forgot to restock and he has to. It was a very close call, and he couldn't bring himself to even look at you after the fact. He only warms up to it if it's necessary. He avoids it, but there are always slip-ups. He has bitten you during sex a few times when he got a bit too into it. He says he refuses to do it unless it's for your pleasure

He is so obsessed with you, if you couldn't tell. You're his favorite person, favorite scent, favorite taste. Not to be slightly yandere on main, but he would kill for you and kill himself if he wasn't enough for you. Never leave you. Never hurt you. Spike would never.

nsfw:

He is neither an ass or tits guy, he's just a 'you' guy. Absolutely everything about you gets him going. You think it's funny at first until you're trying to eat a bowl of spaghetti and he's staring at you, hard. It's not his fault the stray sauce around your lips looked like blood and vampire you is a very hot concept to him

You guys have to own a house. The noise complaints would be too much and you'd get evicted. I do see him as more of a groaner than a moaner, but sometimes it's just too much and it's both. Sometimes it's just one hand gripping the pillow your head is resting on, the other on the headboard, and his head in the crook of your neck practically whimpering as you milk his cock

You also have a tendency to get pretty loud, and as much as he loves your voice, his super vampire hearing can't take it sometimes :(

Doesn't really matter the position, but it's hard and he's so big. You can feel him in your damn ribs and it's choking you up. You don't even realize how loud you are. It's not until you hear his raspy voice in your ear. "I know, love, I know. It's a lot, but I need you to be a bit quieter. You're hurting me." And you pout a bit and try to mumble apologies that just sound like gibberish. You try, futilely, but surely he must understand that you can't help it. Not when it's this good. He whispers again, rubs where your belly bulges from his dick, but it doesn't seem to work. He eventually flips you over to shove your head in the pillows and you were far too out of it to complain. You like it a bit rough anyway.

As mentioned previously, he is a biter. He can't help it, it's instinct honestly. Its not like you mind, you clench even harder when he does. The sudden smell of iron is drowned out by the stench of sex and sweat, and the piercing feel of his fangs into your neck only stings for a bit. He makes up for it by licking up whatever spills <3 Being with a vampire was always going to be at least a little painful

He likes his hair pulled. You're fingers in his hair in general is heaven on earth, but being pulled around a bit is nice

Has a thing for tearing your clothes off. He really does like being a vampire, feeling big and strong in a way he was never able to when he was human. There is a feral piece of him, maybe its the demon inside him or it was always present, but seeing your clothes in pieces after the fact just scratches the itch in his brain

Speaking of brain, enjoys giving and receiving head equally. Being absolutely obsessed with you, and very secretly obsessed with the taste of your blood, he could die happily with your cum on his lips. Between your legs is his favorite place for real. As for receiving, it's his favorite way of shutting you up in any scenario.

Bruises. Everywhere. Hickeys. Everywhere. He's possessive but not exactly an exhibitionist, they end up along your collarbones and your thighs. Places where they can easily be hidden or revealed

Plays old music because he's old. He refuses to use modern technology because he likes his old as dirt aesthetic but definitely plays sexy orchestral music. I simply do not believe him to be an RnB kinda guy

He likes seeing you in his clothes after!! Going back to the whole love for domesticity thing, it just feels right. He's, shockingly, not always a horny fuck in the morning. Sometimes it feels more right to just look at you, the pretty after sex glow on your face, your messy hair, your cheeks pressed into the pillow. If you get up before him and put on what he had on the night before, it just completes the picture.

When he is a horny fuck in the morning, it's still just as soft and slow as the non-sexual mornings. He likes to be the big spoon simply because it's easier to slide his dick between your thighs and hold your tits at the same time

#btvs #btvs headcannons #btvs smut #spike btvs fanfiction #spike btvs smut #spike x reader #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy the vampire slayer fanfiction #btvs fanfiction #buffy the vampire slayer headcannons #buffy the vampire slayer x reader #spike smut #spike fluff #spike btvs fluff #spike btvs #spike btvs x reader #buffy the vampire slayer fanfic #buffy the vampire slayer smut #buffy the vampire slayer fluff

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rwrbficrecs · 24 days ago

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ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with) by @everwitch-magiks (book-verse)

@dot524: Such a fun little punk band AU. There’s a meet-cute, some mild angst, and emotional music scenes with bonding. Plus, great cameos of June, Nora, and Alex’s family. I enjoyed the pacing, dialogue, and character development of this AU and its feel-good ending, and it was fun to see them as punk rockers!

Still Sitting in the Corner I Haunt by BrokenChair, mister_nic (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is a high school AU and Groundhog Day combined! Henry is characterized so well in this fic, and each part of this 5+1 has both obvious and subtle differences that combine to make the perfect fic!

The Tea Shop on Verbena Street by @stutteringpeach (book-verse)

@suseagull04: If every fic was this good, I would never get any work done, because it was really hard to put this fic down! The mystery aspect of it is crafted so well, and to top it all off, this is the best slowburn I've read in awhile. Definitely a fic you don't want to miss out on!

Pretty Competent by @noahreids (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Single Dad Alex and hockey captain Henry Fox meet for the first time at Alex’s daughter’s tryouts – and yeah, they take it slow. But honestly, Alex flirts like crazy, Henry’s texting game is on fire, and to top it all off, Alex’s daughter is totally smitten with Henry. My heart does somersaults just thinking about this super sweet and super sexy fic.

The stranger you recognise by @clottedcreamfudge (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Usually I think the sequel is never as good as the original, but that's absolutely not the case with this fic! The version of our faves that we know and love from The Tea Shop on Verbena Street return, and CCF has so much respect and love for these characters that it's impossible to tell that the sequel isn't written by the original author, only with their permission. Add to that the fact that this fic adds tropes that make perfect sense in this verse, and you've got yet another fic that's worthy of becoming a classic. I'll definitely be reading this fic again soon!

Hit (My Love) Out of the Park by bleedingballroomfloor (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Rivals to lovers at its finest! I love the way this fic comes full circle and that it's so fun- the author's love for the sport definitely shows!

the full spectrum of human emotion by @firenati0n (book-verse)

@suseagull04: if you're a fan of movie AUs, you definitely need to read this one! Roop took all the best parts of The Proposal and gave them a RWRB twist! Arthur feels, ALLLLL the proposal feels, just enough nods to the movie to make fans like me happy without writing it word for word, our boys being so oblivious but so soft at the same time, so much heart that it's practically bursting at the seams with it... I can't say it enough, this fic is absolutely AMAZING, a must read!

Flirting for Dummies by @smblmn (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is the perfect combination of holiday fluff, our boys being oblivious and Henry and June being besties! The perfect read to get anyone into the holiday spirit!

I must tell you what you will not ask by @lizzie-bennetdarcy (book-verse)

@suseagull04: combine a college roommates AU with oblivious firstprince (especially Alex, as always) and holiday feels and you have an incredibly soft fic that I'll likely find myself reading again and again, especially during the holiday season!

Careful Cooking by @iboatedhere (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex and Henry first met at culinary school, where they were inseparable—how did they end up parting ways?! Years later, they cross paths again under unexpected circumstances … It’s a lovers-to-exes-to-lovers story, with quite a bit of angst. Beautifully written, the tension builds perfectly, and the ending is just as lovely.

Pumped by @myheartalivewrites (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Firstprince goes Climbing AU! Set in London, Alex and Henry meet at their favorite hobby: climbing. After a rocky start, the game is on. Everything about this fic is perfect: the vibes, the banter, the sparks, the pacing, the pining—such a classic and one of my all-time favorites!

Got a will to win and a Cheshire grin by @kiwiana-writes (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is so unique and fun! It captures a year in Alex and Henry's lives as Santa's elves and what that job entails, and the twists and turns all lead to such a satisfying conclusion!

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

#monthly faves #rwrb fic recs #firstprince #firstprince fic recs #red white and royal blue

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alrightieaphroditie · 2 years ago

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sticky situations | j.m

*:·ﾟ✧ back to masterlist

pairing *:·ﾟdbf!joel miller x female!reader wc *:·ﾟ5k warnings *:·ﾟ18+! minors please do not interact!! pretty much porn w/ minimal plot, dads best friend, age gap (reader is in early 20s, joel is like late 30s/early 40s) kissing, fun with popsicles (so like ice play, in a way), brief mention of choking, titty play, pet names (lots of ‘baby’ and ‘honey’) dirty talk, praise, slight humiliation if you squint, smidge of mutual masturbation, bossy!joel, unprotected p in v (please wrap it before you tap it), slight breeding kink, probably poorly written smut… i think that’s it :)) an *:·ﾟi lowkey told myself i’d never write a dad’s best friend joel miller story and yet here i am. this literally came to me in a fever dream, and i promise i am still working on my screwed series, but i could not stop writing this. mostly unedited (my bad) but i feel hella proud with this one, so i really hope you all enjoy!! stay safe if your celebrating the fourth today!

synopsis *:·ﾟbeing in a secret relationship with your dad's best friend isn't for the weak. while getting some popsicles from the garage, said boyfriend - joel miller - corners you during the firework show after you spent the day teasing him.

the scorching texas sun was high in the sky, and the sounds of children squealing carried loudly over the radio playing. the miller’s (moreso tommy, even though he didn’t technically live there) had been kind enough to open their pool to the neighborhood for the fourth of july holiday, and on a day like today, you weren’t surprised that their backyard was crammed full of people.

given that your father was joel miller’s best friend, you had already had plans to come utilize his pool, but now you could barely float like you planned with how many children were swimming in it. sarah’s soccer team had come over after practice as well, and it was to the point where even walking in the backyard was like walking through a landmine; you were consciously trying not to bump into anyone or step on a foot (or a child.)

your father had planted himself at the grill with the host himself, the two of them talking about god knows what. every now and then you’d catch joel’s eyes, and he’d take in the bikini top you wore, the sage green color complementing your skin.

you had told your father that you had bought it at the mall last weekend, but the truth was that joel had bought it for you, along with the skimpiest bottoms he could find. those you were wearing too, but you had them concealed by a pair of jean shorts. with the way he was eyeing right now, and the way you were subsequently eyeing him back, you were surprised that no one around you had picked up on the fact that you two were together.

it had been a few months, pretty much ever since you came home to your dad’s from school for the summer. he had moved into this neighborhood after your parents divorce, and when he told you back in january that he had the most amazing neighbor, you were happy for him. flash forward to your visit during spring break and it was joel miller this and joel miller that in your house. not that you really minded, you thought the contractor next door was very handsome, even if he was almost twenty years older than you.

your dad had introduced the two of you during your spring break, with joel being an absolute gentleman, and for a little bit that was all you had. but then your dad was pulled away for work, and even though you were fully an adult, he wanted someone to be there for you if needed. he gave you joel’s phone number, along with the promise that joel would do anything to help you, and that started the snowball effect to the beginning of your relationship.

you hardly used the number while you were home, but for some reason you found yourself staring at it one night alone when you were back in your apartment. joel hadn’t given you any hint, any indicator that he even liked you as a person. you mean, sure, he was kind and always polite to you when your dad had him over for dinners. but you noticed he always purposefully put some type of distance between you, and it just didn’t sit right with you.

so, slightly drunk and alone, you sent him the first text message. a simple, hey, it’s y/n from next door, and then, because you were in a mood and wanted attention: sorry to bother you so late, but my dad told me to text you if i ever needed anything. immediately after you wished you could’ve deleted it, and a few minutes had passed before you decided to put your phone down for the rest of the night. just as you placed it on the table next to your bed, you felt it buzz. think he meant that for when you’re next door, but what can i do for ya?

and that was that. you and joel texted throughout the night, and then all morning, and all afternoon, and all the next night. this continued for weeks, until you graduated to having nightly phone calls, and then facetime calls (you had to have joel ask sarah how to use facetime to begin with, but you thought that was cute) and for the rest of the semester, joel became your closest friend, and your biggest crush. and when you came home for the summer, you officially started dating joel miller. well… it was official between the two of you.

you never imagined falling for your dad’s best friend, and yet, here you were, in his backyard, wearing the bathing suit he had bought you, wishing you could at least hold his hand in front of everyone.

you saw his brown eyes dart in your direction as you moved near the grill, your ears picking up their conversation about the most recent football game. you watched as his pinky finger on the hand by his side extended ever so slightly, and as you walked passed, you brushed your pinky against his. the warmth the feeling gave you made you grin, and you slipped through his open back door, looking for sarah to help you and tommy set up the fireworks display in the street.

the rest of the evening went by in a blur - there were hotdogs and burgers eaten, smores were made with the small bonfire tommy had started, the music volume continued to increase with every passing hour. by the time the sky was pitch black with only a smattering of stars, everyone was full, content, and ready to sit on the sidewalks and lawns to watch the display happening at the end of the cul-de-sac.

you sat near sarah and some of her friends from soccer, listening to them gossip about what was going on in their highschool, but your focus was on joel. your eyes followed every movement of his, watching him pick up the boxes you had hauled out there and rearrange them. the gray t-shirt he was wearing was tighter around his arms, and you watched as the material strained against his biceps, his worn blue jeans curving to the muscles in his thighs.

the sun had gone down hours ago, but your cheeks were burning like it was still noon.

it finally came time for them to start the first round, and everyone chatted excitedly as they watched tommy set up the firework. you watched as joel tossed his brother a lighter, and before you knew it, sparks were flying across the pavement, and both brothers were running from it laughing. everyone’s head tilted back as they followed the spark, and seconds later a ground shaking boom exploded, the sky becoming colored in blue sparks. the children cheered, the adults laughed, and the dogs went crazy barking.

you watched a couple more rounds, grinning as kids began chasing each other with sparklers and laughing when tommy burned his finger slightly on a rouge firework. pushing up on your feet, you wiped your pants for straw pieces of grass while you turned to sarah. “hey, i’m gonna go grab a popsicle, do you want one, hun?” the girls eyes met yours and she nodded her head while still talking to her friend.

you made your way into the garage where you knew joel kept a deep freezer full of goodies on sarah’s behalf. you grabbed the first one you saw, a red cherry popsicle, and opened it while you searched the freezer for sarah’s favorite. you were so preoccupied that you didn’t make out the sound of the door to the garage click shut under the noise of the fireworks, didn’t realize that you were no longer alone until you shifted up and rough, callused hands spread across your exposed middle.

“joel,” you gasped, turning around in his grip with a laugh. his brown eyes were lit with amusement, but they darkened slightly as they roamed down your chest, down your hips where the strings of the bikini bottoms were peaking out. his hands slid down your sides, resting on the waistband of your shorts as he tucked his fingers through the belt loops.

“y’just had to wear this damn bikini, didn’t you?” his voice was rough, grumpy almost, but that was joel’s typical voice, so you just laughed in response. behind you, the freezer door fell shut, and joel took the opportunity to lift you up so that you were sitting on top. the cold surface made you shiver, but it was joel stepping between your legs, pressing his hips against yours harshly that gave you goosebumps.

“well, a nice older man did buy it for me, so i felt compelled.” you teased, moving one of your arms to rest against his shoulder while you licked along your popsicle, the treat already melting in the heat building up in the garage. joel’s eyes zeroed in on the movement, and you couldn’t help but grin as you repeated the motion, sucking the popsicle further in your mouth than probably necessary, watching as his brown eyes practically blended in with his pupils.

“god, you’re trouble,” joel managed to get out before his lips slanted over yours. you moaned into the kiss, consciously holding your popsicle to the side so it didn’t get all over the two of you. your other hand moved to the back of his head, fingers running through his brown locks gently. joel swiped his tongue against your bottom lip and made a low humming sound. “taste like cherries,” he commented, sliding his hand from your waist up to your throat.

“it’s the popsicle,” you gasped out, feeling joel’s hand encompass your neck. he pulled your hips forward against his by your belt loop, rocking you against him. his lips trailed from yours down to your jaw, down your neck, to your chest. the action had you panting out his name like a prayer, and it only further encouraged him. he managed to untie your bikini top without you noticing, and he roughly yanked the material over your head.

“let me see this thing,” leaning back, he took the popsicle from your grip, your hand becoming sticky from it melting in your hand. he licked it himself, which had you giggling, but then he put the treat up to your mouth. “open up, baby. wanna see you lick this like you lick me, yeah?” his voice was soft, comforting almost, which went against the actions of his hands, as one tightened around your neck and the other pushed the cherry treat into your mouth.

your eyes went hazy, and you focused on maintaining eye contact with joel while your face burned with heat. your mouth wrapped around the popsicle, letting him push it in as far as it could go. the coldness of the treat shocked you momentarily, feeling a slight burning sensation against your tongue as he held the popsicle in your mouth for a moment before slowly pulling it out.

your cheeks hollowed against it, sucking as much of the flavor off as you could, and when joel pulled it out of your mouth, a red string of your spit fell from your lips to your chest, dripping down in between the valley of your breasts. “fuck, honey.” joel groaned, his hips rutting against yours momentarily before he leaned down, licking up the trail of red juice on your skin. a whimper escaped from your mouth as you pressed your chest closer to his mouth, and joel took the opportunity to force the popsicle back in your mouth.

he slowly moved the popsicle inside your mouth, and even though he had his eyes closed while he pressed his mouth against your chest, you twirling your tongue around the treat, wanting to please him always. you could feel your bathing suit bottom sticking to your core with how wet you were becoming, and you wiggled your hips against joel’s body to get some type of friction.

he sucked one last kiss against your neck, biting against your skin before he pulled away. “goddamn, baby. such a good girl for me, huh? suckin’ on this popsicle like it’s my damn cock.” his crude words made you whimper, and with one last twist, he pulled the popsicle out of your mouth. his dark eyes stared at your mouth for a moment, taking in how red the popsicle made your lips. how wet they were from your saliva.

joel’s mouth formed into a smirk before it was pressed against yours. your fingers tangled in his hair, your nails scratching his scalp faintly. he sucked your bottom lip in his mouth, running his tongue over it slowly as if savoring the cherry flavor. his teeth nipped your lip, causing a moan to emit from your mouth. joel grinned against your mouth, and you tugged him closer, desperately seeking more.

the air in the garage was becoming suffocating, and you could feel sweat forming along your upper body. joel could feel it too, still clad in his t-shirt and jeans, and he gave you one more deep kiss before he pulled away. “you feelin’ hot, baby?” you could only nod your head, a whimper escaping your mouth as he grinned wickedly at you, eyeing the popsicle once more, the treat half melted. “let’s cool ya down, then.”

you watched with a slightly opened mouth as joel moved the popsicle to your chest, and you gasped when he pressed it against your skin, moving it down the valley of your breast. the coldness made goosebumps rise across your chest, and you couldn’t help the small moans at how good it felt. joel’s attention was solely on popsicle, watching the sticky trail of red juice follow where he guided it.

“joel,” you whimpered, reaching down to grip his forearm tightly. you could see him smile, could see him bite down on his bottom lip as he moved the popsicle to trail over your nipple. the gasp you made had him obsessed, and he ran the cold treat over your sensitive nub over and over again, taking in your gasps and moans, which were being drowned out by the fireworks outside.

“fuck, you look so pretty like this.” joel muttered, almost to himself, but you could make out the words in his deep voice. he sounded strained, as if he were holding himself back from simply pouncing on you. you wish he would, though, as you could feel your inner thighs become wet with your slick. your core was clenching around nothing, and it had been so long since the two of you were able to get away that you were desperately aching for him.

the popsicle was melting quicker now, the juices moving swiftly down your stomach as joel traced the popsicle across your chest to the other nipple. you were squirming as much as you could, seconds away from begging joel to stop and to just fuck you already. but you could see it in his eyes that he wanted this, that he was enjoying this, so you let him have it, and you admired the growing bulge in his jeans.

soon the popsicle was nothing but a puddle mixed into your skin, and joel tossed the stick to the side. “think i need to clean you up now, baby. look at the mess you made,” he said with a tsk, as if you were the one who drew on your chest with the popsicle. you didn’t have it in you to argue, though, especially when joel bent down and took your sensitive nipple in his mouth.

the contrast of the cold popsicle juice with joel’s warm mouth had you groaning, and you slumped against the garage wall as joel traced the popsicle trail with his tongue across your chest. he would pause here and there to place open mouthed kisses along your skin, and you knew in the morning you’d have some small bruises littering your skin. you liked wearing them though, liked having the reminder than joel had marked you as his. because you were, undoubtedly.

“joel, baby, please,” you whimpered, not fully understanding what you were asking for, but joel thought you were begging so beautifully. he wanted to hear you plead his name for the rest of his life. he pulled your nipple in his mouth, tweaking it with his teeth. a sharp pain flitted through your body, only lasting a second, but he did it again, and again, and soon you were panting.

“please, what?” joel mocked, grinning against your skin as he moved to squeeze your breast with his rough hands. “this not enough for ya?” satisfied that he cleaned up the mess the popsicle had made, he trailed his mouth up to your neck and across your jaw before pausing right in front of your face. his breath was warm as it fanned across your face, and you leaned in to kiss him but he pulled away, a teasing grin on his face.

“no,” you whined, moving your hands down the waist of his jeans. he let your fingers fumble with the button before he unbuttoned his pants himself, yanking the zipper down. your hand went inside his boxers immediately, and joel let out a curse as your fingers wrapped around the hard length of this cock. just the feeling of it in your hand had you moaning, and you slid your hand along his shaft the best you could in your position.

“‘course it ain’t enough for you. your needy little cunt needs more, yeah? needs my cock in it to stretch it out?” his hips moved in rhythm with your hand, his hand resting against the freezer top in a fist. his eyes fell shut as you pumped along his cock, and you bit down on your bottom lip as you watched him. you loved seeing him like this, because it made you feel powerful. like you were the only person who could bring joel pleasure like this.

with a growl, joel’s hands suddenly moved to your shorts, where he unbuttoned them with swiftness and yanked them down. you lifted your hips, helping him get the material past your thighs, and they fell to the garage floor. “feet up, baby.” joel tapped your thigh gently, and you removed your hand from his boxers, lifting your legs up and bending your knees to rest your feet on the edge of the freezer.

you wanted to blame the wet feeling between your legs on the humid air gathering inside the garage, but you would’ve been a damn liar. you could feel yourself soaking through the material of your bikini bottoms, and you knew the moment joel was able to see it because he let out a string of curses. he brought his hand to the material, running his fingers gently down the seam, and you both moaned.

“jesus christ, honey. have you been wet like this for me the entire time?” his southern accent was starting to show more, as it did when he got excited. he ran his fingers along the seam once more before pushing the flimsy material to the side and running his finger through your wet folds, and he groaned at feeling how wet you were before sliding one of his fingers inside of you.

“oh, yes, joel. please, fuck me, please,” you whimpered, your hips rocking against the freezer in tandem with his finger as he pumped it inside of you. if you were more cognizant, you would’ve probably been embarrassed by the noise that was coming from between your legs, but you were too lost in the pleasure, especially when joel moved his thumb up to glide against your clit.

“you are askin’ nicely, baby,” he said, mostly to himself as he watched his finger push inside of you, watched the wetness that coated it with every pump. he was obsessed with the way you were clenching around him, and he could hardly wait himself to feel that movement against his dick. “yeah, i think i will fuck ya.”

with one last push, he pulled his finger out from inside you, and laughed when he heard you whine about the loss. “‘s okay, honey. promise i’m gonna fill that little pussy up with my cock real soon, okay?” he made quick work of letting his jeans hit the floor, soon followed by his boxers. his throbbing cock sprung free from his underwear, and you couldn’t help but trail your hand down to your core, pushing your bottoms to the side and slipping your fingers through your wetness at the sight of him. he let out a low groan before spitting in his hand, bringing it to the tip of his cock and slowly palming it while he watched you swirl your fingers against your clit.

“here baby, make sure ‘m nice and wet for that pussy,” joel muttered, stepping closer to your body as held the underside of his cock in his hand, still pumping it up and down slightly. you ran your fingers through your folds once more, gathering the wetness that had started to spread down your thighs, and reached out to wrap your fingers around his tip. soon, the head of his cock was shining from both his spit and your juices.

joel moved his left hand to settle on your waist, tilting his thumb down just enough to pull the material of your bikini to the side. his other hand continued to work his shaft as he moved even closer, his knees hitting against the side of the freezer. his eyes were solely focused on your exposed pussy, but you were watching his face, wanting to see his expression when he put it in for the first time.

“god, you’re so pretty down here. think i’m the luckiest man in texas, baby.” joel said, a smirk settled on his lips as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds, your mouth dropping open in a sigh as you felt it slide against your clit. joel moved to grip the hem of his t-shirt, and he lifted it to his mouth, holding it between his teeth. you took in the sight of his tan and toned body, and then his eyes snapped up to meet yours as he pushed the head into your wet hole, the both of you taking in each other’s reaction.

you fought the urge to close your eyes, the feeling of his big cock stretching you out was almost too much for you. your nose scrunched up slightly, and a louder moan came from your throat. for the first time that night, you were glad tommy had spent two hours shopping for fireworks, as the sound of the explosives and festivities drowned out your cries. joel bit down on his bottom lip as he continued to push himself inside of you, mentally focusing on not coming right then and there.

he paused when he was fully seated inside of you, taking a moment to catch his breath as the two of you were both panting in the heated garage. you noticed joel’s forehead had become slick with sweat, and you gently brushed back the dark hair that had fallen forward. your hand slipped down to rest on his cheek, and he pressed a kiss into the middle of your palm before he started moving his hips.

“fuck, joel,” you whimpered, your foot slipping from it’s hold on the edge of the freezer. joel moved his right hand to grip your thigh, spreading you open before him once more. his nails dug little half-moon imprints in the fat of your thigh, and the angle allowed you to take him a little deeper than before.

“that’s what i’m doin’ honey,” his words were slightly muffled from the t-shirt in his mouth, but you could see the grin from his teasing, letting out a sharp laugh before it turned into a groan. he moved to pull his cock out, and you almost cried at the loss, your hips moving on their own accord to follow his length. his grip on your waist tightened, keeping you still, until he barely had the head of his cock inside. he thrusted forward again, much quicker this time, and this time your eyes did screw shut at the feeling of is cock filling you up so completely.

your hands rested on his shoulders, gripping him so hard that you were basically anchoring yourself to him. “so deep, joel… so good,” you praised, your head rolling back on your neck as joel continued to fuck you at a thourough pace. the t-shirt fell from his mouth as he started to moan. his knees banged against the freezer, the freezer banged against the wall, and the fireworks outside masqued both the sounds. curses and praises fell from joel’s mouth - “fuckin’ hell, baby. your pussy gets tighter every damn time i fuck you, huh? you’re doin’ so good, honey, takin’ my cock like a good girl” - and you were feeling so hot, so full. joel was nearly fucking you into oblivion with how muddled your thoughts were.

the sound of his skin slapping against your wet skin was all you could focus on, a noise you would’ve been more embarrassed by if it weren’t a testament of how turned on joel made you. each stroke of his cock had you whimpering, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. you moved a hand down to your pussy, moving your fingers against your clit and brushing up against his length every time he thrusted inside of you. the action not only made heat pool to your stomach, but it made joel groan. “that’s it baby, play with that little clit of yours. gonna make yourself come on my cock tonight? gonna let me fill this pussy up with my cum?”

“oh my god, joel, please - right there,” you sobbed, your inner thighs shaking slightly as the feelings became too much to handle. joel picked up on how close you were to coming with how tightly your pussy was clenching around him, and he continued to thrust his hips against yours, the wet noises coming from between your legs made his head feel light.

small, breathy pants fell from your mouth as you moved your fingers faster against your clit, and distantly you could hear joel encouraging you to let go - “that’s it, honey. you’re takin’ my cock so well, let me make you feel good baby.” - and as joel leaned forward to place a kiss on your damp forehead, you felt yourself burst. a loud cry came from your lips as your body went rigid, little white stars showing up behind your eyelids as pleasure coursed through every vein in your body.

“oh, fuck, baby,” joel groaned out, his grip on your body becoming impossibly tight as his hips thrust into you, his movements faltering slightly. the feeling of your pussy clenching around his length while you came was what sent him over, and he ground his hips against yours as he came. you could feel his cock throbbing, the warmth from his seed filling you up as joel tilted his head back and moaned. you watched him through hooded eyes, struggling to catch your breath, but the sight of joel coming was almost enough to help you come again.

he kept his cock inside you as you both came down from your orgasms, and it moved inside you a little when he leaned forward again, making you whimper. “sorry, baby,” joel said softly, slowly pulling himself out while pressing his lips against yours. you eagerly kissed him back, moving a hand to rest on the back of his neck while he deepened the kiss. you felt unbelievably wet, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“your cum is running down my thigh, miller.” you said against his lips, causing the older man to laugh. he pulled away enough to take in the mess that was leaking out of your pussy, and then he did something that shocked you - he gathered up the slick with two of his fingers before pushing it back inside of you. your nails dug into his skin as his fingers entered your sore pussy, moaning softly as he watched himself intensely.

his gaze moved back to your eyes, where he gave you a wicked grin before leaning in to kiss you again. you sighed against his mouth, your body relaxing on the freezer before the two of you started to clean yourselves up. joel went into the house to grab a washcloth and a spare t-shirt for you, considering your chest was stained red and covered in little hickeys. he gently cleaned the mess from between your legs, then himself, and helped you pull your shorts back on. you had him help tie your bikini top again, his fingers coasting against your skin. he gave the back of your neck a quick kiss before turning you around and putting his t-shirt over you.

“there. now those pervs outside can’t catch a glimpse of ya,” he said, seeming satisfied with himself as he yanked up his pants. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes - his cum was literally dripping out of your pussy and yet he was acting jealous.

“oh? you mean pervs like you?” you teased, laughing as he swatted away your fingers that were trying to poke him. you thought you heard him mutter something in agreement, but a particularly loud firework went off at the same moment, so you were clueless. you figured that they were on the finale with how frequent and how loud the next few fireworks were, so you gave joel one last kiss before sneaking out the door, which you thankfully noticed was locked.

as you made your way to the grass, you mentally ran a checklist. you remembered to put your shorts back on, along with your top and a t-shirt. you remembered to clean off the freezer top with one of the towels joel kept in the garage, and you remembered to let your hair down to cover a hickey on the side of your neck. you remembered to go out the garage door, while joel went out through the living room, as he told tommy he was going in to get medicine for a headache. you felt like the two of you had covered all the bases as you sat down on the grass near sarah.

“hey, where are our popsicles?”

oh, fuck.

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etz-ashashiyot · 6 months ago

Text

Chapter 4: Executed Jews

By Dara Horn, excerpted from People Love Dead Jews

ALA ZUSKIN PERELMAN AND I HAD BEEN IN TOUCH ONLINE before I finally met her in person, and I still cannot quite believe she exists. Years ago, I wrote a novel about Marc Chagall and the Yiddish-language artists whom he once knew in Russia, all of whom were eventually murdered by the Soviet regime. While researching the novel, I found myself sucked into the bizarre story of these people's exploitation and destruction: how the Soviet Union first welcomed these artists as exemplars of universal human ideals, then used them for its own purposes, and finally executed them. I named my main character after the executed Yiddish actor Benjamin Zuskin, a comic performer known for playing fools. After the book came out, I heard from Ala in an email written in halting English: "I am Benjamin Zuskin's daughter." That winter I was speaking at a literary conference in Israel, where Ala lived, and she and I arranged to meet. It was like meeting a character from a book.

My hosts had generously put me up with other writers in a beautiful stone house in Jerusalem. We were there during Hanukkah, the celebration of Jewish independence. On the first night of the holiday, I walked to Jerusalem's Old City and watched as people lit enormous Hanukkah torches at the Western Wall. I thought of my home in New Jersey, where in school growing up I sang fake English Hanukkah songs created by American music education companies at school Christmas concerts, with lyrics describing Hanukkah as being about "joy and peace and love." Joy and peace and love describe Hanukkah, a commemoration of an underdog military victory over a powerful empire, about as well as they describe the Fourth of July. I remembered challenging a chorus teacher about one such song, and being told that I was a poor sport for disliking joy and peace and love. (Imagine a "Christmas song" with lyrics celebrating Christmas, the holiday of freedom. Doesn't everyone like freedom? What pedant would reject such a song?) I sang those words in front of hundreds of people to satisfy my neighbors that my tradition was universal — meaning, just like theirs. The night before meeting Ala, I walked back to the house through the dense stone streets of the Old City's Jewish Quarter, where every home had a glass case by its door, displaying the holiday's oil lamps. It was strange to see those hundreds of glowing lights. They were like a shining announcement that this night of celebration was shared by all these strangers around me, that it was universal. The experience was so unfamiliar that I didn't know what to make of it.

The next morning, Ala knocked on the door of the stone house and sat down in its living room, with its view of the Old City. She was a small dark-haired woman whose perfect posture showed a firmness that belied her age. She looked at me and said in Hebrew, "I feel as if you knew my father, like you understood what he went through. How did you know?"

The answer to that question goes back several thousand years.

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

The teenage boys who participated in competitive athletics in the gymnasium in Jerusalem 2,200 years ago had their circumcisions reversed, because otherwise they wouldn't have been allowed to play. In the Hellenistic empire that had conquered Judea, sports were sacred, the entry point to being a person who mattered, the ultimate height of cool — and sports, of course, were always played in the nude. As one can imagine, ancient genital surgery of this nature was excruciating and potentially fatal. But the boys did not want to miss out.

I learned this fun fact in seventh grade, from a Hebrew school teacher who was instructing me and my pubescent classmates about the Hanukkah story — about how Hellenistic tyranny gained a foothold in ancient Judea with the help of Jews who wanted to fit in. This teacher seemed overly jazzed to talk about penises with a bunch of adolescents, and I suspected he'd made the whole thing up. At home, I decided to fact-check. I pulled a dusty old book off my parents' shelf, Volume One of Heinrich Graetz's opus History of the Jews.

In nineteenth-century academic prose, Graetz explained how the leaders of Judea demonstrated their loyalty to the occupying Hellenistic empire by building a gymnasium and recruiting teenage athletes — only to discover that "in uncovering their bodies they could immediately be recognized as Judeans. But were they to take part in the Olympian games, and expose themselves to the mockery of Greek scoffers? Even this difficulty they evaded by undergoing a painful operation, so as to disguise the fact that they were Judeans." Their Zeus-worshipping overlords were not fooled. Within a few years, the regime outlawed not only circumcision but all of Jewish religious practice, and put to death anyone who didn't comply.

Sometime after that, the Maccabees showed up. That's the part of the story we usually hear.

Those ancient Jewish teenagers were on my mind that Hanukkah when Ala came to tell me about her father's terrifying life, because I sensed that something profound united them — something that doesn't match what we're usually taught about what bigotry looks or feels like. It doesn't involve "intolerance" or "persecution," at least not at first. Instead, it looks like the Jews themselves are choosing to reject their own traditions. It is a form of weaponized shame.

Two distinct patterns of antisemitism can be identified by the Jewish holidays that celebrate triumphs over them: Purim and Hanukkah. In the Purim version of antisemitism, exemplified by the Persian genocidal decrees in the biblical Book of Esther, the goal is openly stated and unambiguous: Kill all the Jews. In the Hanukkah version of antisemitism, whose appearances range from the Spanish Inquisition to the Soviet regime, the goal is still to eliminate Jewish civilization. But in the Hanukkah version, this goal could theoretically be accomplished simply by destroying Jewish civilization, while leaving the warm, de-Jewed bodies of its former practitioners intact.

For this reason, the Hanukkah version of antisemitism often employs Jews as its agents. It requires not dead Jews but cool Jews: those willing to give up whatever specific aspect of Jewish civilization is currently uncool. Of course, Judaism has always been uncool, going back to its origins as the planet's only monotheism, featuring a bossy and unsexy invisible God. Uncoolness is pretty much Judaism's brand, which is why cool people find it so threatening — and why Jews who are willing to become cool are absolutely necessary to Hanukkah antisemitism's success. These "converted" Jews are used to demonstrate the good intentions of the regime — which of course isn't antisemitic but merely requires that its Jews publicly flush thousands of years of Jewish civilization down the toilet in exchange for the worthy prize of not being treated like dirt, or not being murdered. For a few years. Maybe.

I wish I could tell the story of Ala's father concisely, compellingly, the way everyone prefers to hear about dead Jews. I regret to say that Benjamin Zuskin wasn't minding his own business and then randomly stuffed into a gas chamber, that his thirteen-year-old daughter did not sit in a closet writing an uplifting diary about the inherent goodness of humanity, that he did not leave behind sad-but-beautiful aphorisms pondering the absence of God while conveniently letting his fellow humans off the hook. He didn't even get crucified for his beliefs. Instead, he and his fellow Soviet Jewish artists — extraordinarily intelligent, creative, talented, and empathetic adults — were played for fools, falling into a slow-motion psychological horror story brimming with suspense and twisted self-blame. They were lured into a long game of appeasing and accommodating, giving up one inch after another of who they were in order to win that grand prize of being allowed to live.

Spoiler alert: they lost.

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

I was in graduate school studying Yiddish literature, itself a rich vein of discussion about such impossible choices, when I became interested in Soviet Jewish artists like Ala's father. As I dug through library collections of early-twentieth-century Yiddish works, I came across a startling number of poetry books illustrated by Marc Chagall. I wondered if Chagall had known these Yiddish writers whose works he illustrated, and it turned out that he had. One of Chagall's first jobs as a young man was as an art teacher at a Jewish orphanage near Moscow, built for children orphaned by Russia's 1919-1920 civil war pogroms. This orphanage had a rather renowned faculty, populated by famous Yiddish writers who trained these traumatized children in the healing art of creativity.

It all sounded very lovely, until I noticed something else. That Chagall's art did not rely on a Jewish language — that it had, to use that insidious phrase, "universal appeal" — allowed him a chance to succeed as an artist in the West. The rest of the faculty, like Chagall, had also spent years in western Europe before the Russian revolution, but they chose to return to Russia because of the Soviet Union's policy of endorsing Yiddish as a "national Soviet language." In the 1920s and 30s, the USSR offered unprecedented material support to Yiddish culture, paying for Yiddish-language schools, theaters, publishing houses, and more, to the extent that there were Yiddish literary critics who were salaried by the Soviet government. This support led the major Yiddish novelist Dovid Bergelson to publish his landmark 1926 essay "Three Centers," about New York, Warsaw, and Moscow as centers of Yiddish-speaking culture, asking which city offered Yiddish writers the brightest prospects. His unequivocal answer was Moscow, a choice that brought him back to Russia the following year, where many other Jewish artists joined him.

But Soviet support for Jewish culture was part of a larger plan to brainwash and coerce national minorities into submitting to the Soviet regime — and for Jews, it came at a very specific price. From the beginning, the regime eliminated anything that celebrated Jewish "nationality" that didn't suit its needs. Jews were awesome, provided they weren't practicing Jewish religion, studying traditional Jewish texts, using Hebrew, or supporting Zionism. The Soviet Union thus pioneered a versatile gaslighting slogan, which it later spread through its client states in the developing world and which remains popular today: it was not antisemitic, merely anti-Zionist. (In the process of not being antisemitic and merely being anti-Zionist, the regime managed to persecute, imprison, torture, and murder thousands of Jews.) What's left of Jewish culture once you surgically remove religious practice, traditional texts, Hebrew, and Zionism? In the Soviet Empire, one answer was Yiddish, but Yiddish was also suspect for its supposedly backwards elements. Nearly 15 percent of its words came directly from biblical and rabbinic Hebrew, so Soviet Yiddish schools and publishers, under the guise of "simplifying" spelling, implemented a new and quite literally antisemitic spelling system that eliminated those words' Near Eastern roots. Another answer was "folklore" — music, visual art, theater, and other creative work reflecting Jewish life — but of course most of that cultural material was also deeply rooted in biblical and rabbinic sources, or reflected common religious practices like Jewish holidays and customs, so that was treacherous too.

No, what the regime required were Yiddish stories that showed how horrible traditional Jewish practice was, stories in which happy, enlightened Yiddish-speaking heroes rejected both religion and Zionism (which, aside from its modern political form, is also a fundamental feature of ancient Jewish texts and prayers traditionally recited at least three times daily). This de-Jewing process is clear from the repertoire of the government-sponsored Moscow State Yiddish Theater, which could only present or adapt Yiddish plays that denounced traditional Judaism as backward, bourgeois, corrupt, or even more explicitly — as in the many productions involving ghosts or graveyard scenes — as dead. As its actors would be, soon enough.

The Soviet Union's destruction of Jewish culture commenced, in a calculated move, with Jews positioned as the destroyers. It began with the Yevsektsiya, committees of Jewish Bolsheviks whose paid government jobs from 1918 through 1930 were to persecute, imprison, and occasionally murder Jews who participated in religious or Zionist institutions — categories that included everything from synagogues to sports clubs, all of which were shut down and their leaders either exiled or "purged." This went on, of course, until the regime purged the Yevsektsiya members themselves.

The pattern repeated in the 1940s. As sordid as the Yeveksiya chapter was, I found myself more intrigued by the undoing of the Jewish Antifascist Committee, a board of prominent Soviet Jewish artists and intellectuals established by Joseph Stalin in 1942 to drum up financial support from Jews overseas for the Soviet war effort. Two of the more prominent names on the JAC's roster of talent were Solomon Mikhoels, the director of the Moscow State Yiddish Theater, and Ala's father Benjamin Zuskin, the theater's leading actor. After promoting these people during the war, Stalin decided these loyal Soviet Jews were no longer useful, and charged them all with treason. He had decided that this committee he himself created was in fact a secret Zionist cabal, designed to bring down the Soviet state. Mikhoels was murdered first, in a 1948 hit staged to look like a traffic accident. Nearly all the others — Zuskin and twelve more Jewish luminaries, including the novelist Dovid Bergelson, who had proclaimed Moscow as the center of the Yiddish future — were executed by firing squad on August 1952.

Just as the regime accused these Jewish artists and intellectuals of being too "nationalist" (read: Jewish), today's long hindsight makes it strangely tempting to read this history and accuse them of not being "nationalist" enough — that is, of being so foolishly committed to the Soviet regime that they were unable to see the writing on the wall. Many works on this subject have said as much. In Stalin's Secret Pogrom, the indispensable English translation of transcripts from the JAC "trial," Russia scholar Joshua Rubenstein concludes his lengthy introduction with the following:

As for the defendants at the trial, it is not clear what they believed about the system they each served. Their lives darkly embodied the tragedy of Soviet Jewry. A combination of revolutionary commitment and naive idealism had tied them to a system they could not renounce. Whatever doubts or misgivings they had, they kept to themselves, and served the Kremlin with the required enthusiasm. They were not dissidents. They were Jewish martyrs. They were also Soviet patriots. Stalin repaid their loyalty by destroying them.

This is completely true, and also completely unfair. The tragedy — even the term seems unjust, with its implied blaming of the victim — was not that these Soviet Jews sold their souls to the devil, though many clearly did. The tragedy was that integrity was never an option in the first place.

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

Ala was almost thirteen years old when her father was arrested and until that moment she was immersed in the Soviet Yiddish artistic scene. Her mother was also an actor in the Moscow State Yiddish Theater; her family lived in the same building as the murdered theater director Solomon Mikhoels, and moved in the same circles as other Jewish actors and writers. After seeing her parents perform countless times, Ala had a front-row seat to the destruction of their world. She attended Mikhoel's state funeral, heard about the arrest of the brilliant Yiddish author Der Nister from an actor friend who witnessed it from her apartment across the hall, and was present when secret police ransacked her home in conjunction with her father's arrest. In her biography, The Travels of Benjamin Zuskin, she provides for her readers what she gave me that morning in Jerusalem: an emotional recounting, with the benefit of hindsight, of what it was really like to live through the Soviet Jewish nightmare.

It's as close as we can get, anyway. Her father Benjamin Zuskin's own thoughts on the topic are available only from state interrogations extracted under unknown tortures. (One typical interrogation document from his three and a half years in the notorious Lubyanka Prison announces that the day's interrogation lasted four hours, but the transcript is only half a page long — leaving to the imagination how the interrogator and interrogatee may have spent their time together. Suffice it to say that another JAC detainee didn't make it to trial alive.) His years in prison began when he was arrested in December of 1948 in a Moscow hospital room, where he was being treated for chronic insomnia brought on by the murder of his boss and career-long acting partner, Mikhoels; the secret police strapped him to a gurney and carted him to prison in his hospital gown while he was still sedated.

But in order to truly appreciate the loss here, one needs to know what was lost — to return to the world of the great Yiddish writer Sholem Aleichem, the author of Benjamin Zuskin's first role on the Yiddish stage, in a play fittingly titled It's a Lie!

Benjamin Zuskin's path to the Yiddish theater and later to the Soviet firing squad began in a shtetl comparable to those immortalized in Sholem Aleichem's work. Zuskin, a child from a traditional family who was exposed to theater only through traveling Yiddish troupes and clowning relatives, experienced that world's destruction: his native Lithuanian shtetl, Ponievezh, was among the many Jewish towns forcibly evacuated during the First World War, catapulting him and hundreds of thousands of other Jewish refugees into modernity. He landed in Penza, a city with professional Russian theater and Yiddish amateur troupes. In 1920, the Moscow State Yiddish Theater opened, and by 1921, Zuskin was starring alongside Mikhoels, the theater's leading light.

In the one acting class I have ever attended, I learned only one thing: acting isn't about pretending to be someone you aren't, but rather about emotional communication. Zuskin, who not only starred in most productions but also taught in the theater's acting school, embodied the concept. His very first audition was a one-man sketch he created, consisting of nothing more than a bumbling old tailor threading a needle — without words, costumes, or props. It became so popular that he performed it to entranced crowds for years. This physical artistry animated his every role. As one critic wrote, "Even the slightest breeze and he is already air-bound."

Zuskin specialized in playing figures like the Fool in King Lear — as his daughter puts it in her book, characters who "are supposed to make you laugh, but they have an additional dimension, and they arouse poignant reflections about the cruelty of the world." Discussing his favorite roles, Zuskin once explained that "my heart is captivated particularly by the image of the person who is derided and humiliated, but who loves life, even though he encounters obstacles placed before him through no fault of his own."

The first half of Ala's book seems to recount only triumphs. The theater's repertoire in its early years was largely adopted from classic Yiddish writers like Sholem Aleichem, I. L. Peretz, and Mendele Moykher Seforim. The book's title is drawn from Zuskin's most famous role: Senderl, the Sancho Panza figure in Mendele's Don Quixote-inspired work, Travels of Benjamin the Third, about a pair of shtetl idiots who set out for the Land of Israel and wind up walking around the block. These productions were artistically inventive, brilliantly acted, and played to packed houses both at home and on tour. Travels of Benjamin the Third, in a 1928 review typical of the play's reception, was lauded by the New York Times as "one of the most originally conceived and beautifully executed evenings in the modern theater."

One of the theater's landmark productions, I. L. Peretz's surrealist masterpiece At Night in the Old Marketplace, was first performed in 1925. The play, set in a graveyard, is a kind of carnival for the graveyard's gathered ghosts. Those who come back from the dead are misfits like drunks and prostitutes, and also specific figures from shtetl life - yeshiva idlers, synagogue beadles, and the like. Leading them all is a badkhn, or wedding jester — divided in this production into two mirror-characters played by Mikhoels and Zuskin — whose repeated chorus among the living corpses is "The dead will rise!" "Within this play there was something hidden, something with an ungraspable depth," Ala writes, and then relates how after a performance in Vienna, one theatergoer came backstage to tell the director that "the play had shaken him as something that went beyond all imagination." The theatergoer was Sigmund Freud.

As Ala traces the theater's trajectory toward doom, it becomes obvious why this performance so affected Freud. The production was a zombie story about the horrifying possibility of something supposedly dead (here, Jewish civilization) coming back to life. The play was written a generation earlier as a Romantic work, but in the Moscow production, it became a means of denigrating traditional Jewish life without mourning it. That fantasy of a culture's death as something compelling and even desirable is not merely reminiscent of Freud's death drive, but also reveals the self-destructive bargain implicit in the entire Soviet-sponsored Jewish enterprise. In her book, Ala beautifully captures this tension as she explains the badkhn's role: "He sends a double message: he denies the very existence of the vanishing shadow world, and simultaneously he mocks it, as if it really does exist."

This double message was at the heart of Benjamin Zuskin's work as a comic Soviet Yiddish actor, a position that required him to mock the traditional Jewish life he came from while also pretending that his art could exist without it. "The chance to make fun of the shtetl which has become a thing of the past charmed me," he claimed early on, but later, according to his daughter, he began to privately express misgivings. The theater's decision to stage King Lear as a way of elevating itself disturbed him, suggesting as it did that the Yiddish repertoire was inferior. His own integrity came from his deep devotion to yiddishkayt, a sense of essential and enduring Jewishness, no matter how stripped-down that identity had become. "With the sharp sense of belonging to everything Jewish, he was tormented by the theater forsaking its expression of this belonging," his daughter writes. Even so, "no, he could not allow himself to oppose the Soviet regime even in his thoughts, the regime that gave him his own theater, but 'the heart and the wit do not meet.'"

In Ala's memory, her father differed from his director, partner, and occasional rival, Mikhoels, in his complete disinterest in politics. Mikhoels was a public figure as well as performer, and his leadership of the Jewish Antifascist Committee, while no more voluntary than any public act in a totalitarian state, was a role he played with gusto, traveling to America in 1943 and speaking to thousands of American Jews to raise money for the Red Army in their battle against the Nazis. Zuskin, on the other hand, was on the JAC roster, but seems to have continued playing the fool. According to both his daughter and his trial testimony, his role in the JAC was almost identical to his role on a Moscow municipal council, limited to playing chess in the back of the room during meetings.

In Jerusalem, Ala told me that her father was "a pure soul." "He had no interest in politics, only in his art," she said, describing his acting style as both classic and contemporary, praised by critics for its timeless qualities that are still evident today in his film work. But his talent was the most nuanced and sophisticated thing about him. Offstage, he was, as she put it in Hebrew, a "tam" — a biblical term sometimes translated as fool or simpleton, but which really means an innocent. (It is the first adjective used to describe the title character in the Book of Job.) It is true that in trial transcripts, Zuskin comes out looking better than many of his co-defendants by playing dumb instead of pointing fingers. But was this ignorance, or a wise acceptance of the futility of trying to save his skin? As King Lear's Fool put it, "They'll have me whipp'd for speaking true; thou'lt have me whipp'd for holding my peace." Reflecting on her father's role as a fool named Pinia in a popular film, Ala writes in her book, "When I imagine the moment when my father heard his death sentence, I see Pinia in close-up . . . his shoulders slumped, despair in his appearance. I hear the tone that cannot be imitated in his last line in the film — and perhaps also the last line in his life? — 'I don't understand anything.'"

Yet it is clear that Zuskin deeply understood how impossible his situation was. In one of the book's more disturbing moments, Ala describes him rehearsing for one of his landmark roles, that of the comic actor Hotsmakh in Sholem Aleichem's Wandering Stars, a work whose subject is the Yiddish theater. He had played the role before, but this production was going up in the wake of Mikhoel's murder. Zuskin was already among the hunted, and he knew it. As Ala writes:

One morning — already after the murder of Mikhoels — I saw my father pacing the room and memorizing the words of Hotsmakh's role. Suddenly, in a gesture revealing a hopeless anguish, Father actually threw himself at me, hugged me, pressed me to his heart, and together with me, continued to pace the room and to memorize the words of the role. That evening I saw the performance . . . "The doctors say that I need rest, air, and the sea . . . For what . . . without the theater?" [Hotsmakh asks], he winds the scarf around his neck — as though it were a noose. For my father, I think those words of Hotsmakh were like the motif of the role and — I think — of his own life.

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

Describing the charges levied against Zuskin and his peers is a degrading exercise, for doing so makes it seem as though these charges are worth considering. They are not. It is at this point that Hanukkah antisemitism transformed, as it inevitably does, into Purim antisemitism. Here Ala offers what hundreds of pages of state archives can't, describing the impending horror of the noose around one's neck.

Her father stopped sleeping, began receiving anonymous threats, and saw that he was being watched. No conversation was safe. When a visitor from Poland waited near his apartment building to give him news of his older daughter Tamara (who was then living in Warsaw), Zuskin instructed the man to walk behind him while speaking to him and then to switch directions, so as to avoid notice. When the man asked Zuskin what he wanted to tell his daughter, Zuskin "approached the guest so closely that there was no space between them, and whispered in Yiddish, 'Tell her that the ground is burning beneath my feet.'" It is true that no one can know what Zuskin or any of the other defendants really believed about the Soviet system they served. It is also true — and far more devastating — that their beliefs were utterly irrelevant.

Ala and her mother were exiled to Kazakhstan after her father's arrest, and learned of his execution only when they were allowed to return to Moscow in 1955. By then, he had already been dead for three years.

In Jerusalem that morning, Ala told me, in a sudden private moment of anger and candor, that the Soviet Union's treatment of the Jews was worse than Nazi Germany's. I tried to argue, but she shut me up. Obviously the Nazi atrocities against Jews were incomparable, a fact Ala later acknowledged in a calmer mood. But over four generations, the Soviet regime forced Jews to participate in and internalize their own humiliation - and in that way, Ala suggested, they destroyed far more souls. And they never, ever, paid for it.

"They never had a Nuremberg," Ala told me that day, with a quiet fury. "They never acknowledged the evil of what they did. The Nazis were open about what they were doing, but the Soviets pretended. They lured the Jews in, they baited them with support and recognition, they used them, they tricked them, and then they killed them. It was a trap. And no one knows about it, even now. People know about the Holocaust, but not this. Even here in Israel, people don't know. How did you know?"

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

That evening I went out to the Old City again, to watch the torches being lit at the Western Wall for the second night of Hanukkah. I walked once more through the Jewish Quarter, where the oil lamps, now each bearing one additional flame, were displayed outside every home, following the tradition to publicize the Hanukkah miracle — not merely the legendary long-lasting oil, but the miracle of military and spiritual victory over a coercive empire, the freedom to be uncool, the freedom not to pretend. Somewhere nearby, deep underground, lay the ruins of the gymnasium where de-circumcised Jewish boys once performed naked before approving crowds, stripped of their integrity and left with their private pain. I thought of Benjamin Zuskin performing as the dead wedding jester, proclaiming, "The dead will rise!" and then performing again in a "superior" play, as King Lear's Fool. I thought of the ground burning beneath his feet. I thought of his daughter, Ala, now an old woman, walking through Jerusalem.

I am not a sentimental person. As I returned to the stone house that night, along the streets lit by oil lamps, I was surprised to find myself crying.

#People Love Dead Jews #Dara Horn #Soviet Jewry #Soviet antisemitism #antizionism is not antisemitism #jumblr

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honeytonedhottie · 11 days ago

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honey's it girl magazine december edition⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀

welcome back to honeys it girl magazine, this is the december catalog. get ready for the inside scoop on data that i've collected, things i've learned/started doing, and just general info like that organized in kind of a teen-magazine inspired fashion. this months catalog has an article written by the LOVELY @osculum-frombee. i just wanna start off by saying THANK YOU all for supporting the magazine and my blog this year, this is theee it girls magazine and without further ado lets just get into it.

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT ;

hey everyone! recently its come to my attention that a lot of you guys are advising me to create a sub stack account and so i did. on substack there will be a paid subscription to read the it girls magazine, BUT there are some things i want to tell u guys about regarding this magazine...💬🎀

WHAT ABOUT THE MAGAZINE ON TUMBLR? ;

you will still get an amazing it-girls magazine every month on tumblr absolutely free! the only difference between the it girls magazine on tumblr and the it girls magazine on substack is that on substack the magazine will be exclusive and include the following...💬🎀

♡ early access

♡ downloadable issues

♡ subscriber shout-outs

♡ guest article opportunities if u want to write something for the magazine

♡ collaborations potentially 🙈

♡ longer articles in general so if u like the longer articles and if u wanna read more than the exclusive version is def for you

the it girls magazine on this platform will include the same content as the magazine on substack! except on substack it'll be more in depth and include perks mentioned above. its basically the magazine y'all get here, but upgraded ✨

WHY YOU SHOULD SUPPORT MY SUBSTACK ;

for just $5 a month, you’ll get all the extra goodies that make honeys it girls magazine even more special! think early access to issues, exclusive behind-the-scenes content, and fun extras like shopping guides and downloads. plus, your support means the world to me—it helps me keep creating the content you love and dream up even more cool stuff for you. it’s like joining our little vip club where you get all the insider perks and help the magazine grow! 💕

as of right now im still working out the kinks of my magazine on substack so for todays catalog you guys will be getting the exclusive version that way u guys can know what its like! if u have any questions at all ur welcome to ask in the comments/submit an ask. i hope to see you all there but until then enjoy the experience 💻🎀

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS TO BE GLAMOROUS ;

for this holiday season lets set the scene with "mariah carey’s “all i want for christmas is you”, your wearing a sparkly dress and looking as beautiful as you always do ✨ looking like the ultimate holiday dream! thats the energy that we wanna emulate during this holiday season and we’ll get more into that later on in this catalog.

no but seriously, all i want for christmas is to be more fabulous and glamorous. as i was writing my christmas wishlist with my fluffy pink pen, i even made pink hot chocolate to set the mood (recipe will be shared later on) and i came to the realization that aside from the material aspects of a hyper feminine glamorous christmas, the vibe also needed to match.

glamour is about the way that you carry yourself. so, while we’ll definitely be purchasing our holiday wishlists, make sure that we’re keeping up with our self care rituals and in fact, pampering ourselves more because we are FABULOUS and we should treat ourselves as such. now, lets unwrap all the ways you can dominate this season like the it girl you are.

WHAT MADE YOU AN IT GIRL THIS YEAR ;

now that we’re in december i wanna track it back and do some reflection on our year just like we talked about in the november catalog. every it girl has her moments and im sure that this year has been full of them for you so just take a second to acknowledge your moments form the year.

for me, my biggest moments this year include making the decision to take myself more seriously because, i feel like i take myself quite seriously already but i haven’t been applying myself giving myself my all like i KNOW i can so making that choice this year to truly step into myself was def my biggest moment.

your it girl moments also dont have to be something necessarily ground-breaking, it can be as simple as you finding your signature scent (hint: if it smells like warm vanilla gourmand, it’s the one) or as ground breaking as reaching your health goals, getting on honor-roll for your school, or making big doll dollars! 💰💖💸 whatever it is, YOU did that. reflect and celebrate yourself.

PINK HOT CHOCOLATE RECIPE ;

pink hot chocolate is the perfect winter drink! plus its super easy to make so im going to be giving the recipe here so that you can enjoy a cup of it while you continue reading the it girl magazine. put on ur hello kitty aprons and lets get straight into the recipe! you’ll need the following ;

♡ 4 cups of milk ♡ 1/2 cups of white chocolate chips ♡ 1 tablespoon of vanilla extract

so what your gonna do is your gonna heat up 4 cups of milk in a pot and then add in ur white chocolate chips, mixing them together until smooth. then you’ll add the vanilla extract and the red food coloring and stir to distribute the color...💬🎀

i like to enjoy mine with whipped cream and pink and white mini marshmallows! now that you have your beverage we can continue on with the it girls magazine.

HOLIDAY SELF CARE ROUTINE ;

one of my favorite things to do are over the top self care routines! i love to feel glamorous and girly and take good care of myself meticulously especially during winter break because its easy to just rot and fall into a lethargic haze so hopefully this holiday self care routine motivates you and gives you something to do if your bored.

use a holiday themed bath bomb from lush

use a deep conditioning hair mask, put your hair up and read a chic magazine (like this one, duh)

its all about the experience so light a yummy candle while your doing self care

use a foot scrub of brown sugar honey and lemon -> for extra glam paint ur nails

moisturize your body with a shimmery lotion so you sparkle like a holiday queen

bubble baths!!

WHAT THE IT GIRLS ARE LISTENING TO ;

one of my favorite releases this december has to be twice and megan thee stallions collar strategy! the song is so vibrant and bubbly and i absolutely loved the music video also. we can't talk about december music without talking about the queen of christmas herself miss mariah carey and her christmas album 'merry christmas' some songs from my christmas playlist are ->

♡ santa tell me - by ariana grande ♡ all i want for christmas is you - by mariah carey ♡ last christmas - by wham! ♡ doughnut - twice ♡ a nonsense christmas - sabrina carpenter ♡ december - ariana grande ♡ when christmas comes - by mariah carey and john legend

THE ADVICE COLUMN ;

Q ; “Hey, I recently bought almond oil but don’t know what to use it for. I have heard of using it for hair, skin, body, etc. but could you elaborate on it? Also if it’s ok with u could this be in your magazine which I love btw! Your the best!” 💬

A ; hi anonie! so almond oil is super duper versatile. you can use it in a hair mask for shine and hydration. you can add a couple drops to your body lotion for skin hydration. you can also mix it with sugar and make ur own homemade body scrub. from the research i did, its also great for cuticle care and soothing dry areas like elbows and knees. thanks for loving the magazine!

DECEMBER TRENDS ;

i first wanna talk about the FASHION trends for december 2024 because it’s caught my eye. according to harpersbazzar “this season is all about daytime party clothes, o blood office attire, and updated english country classics.”

reoccurring themes in december fashion are all about finding ways to indulge in warmth and texture during the dark winter days. a texture that i’ve seen used a lot in december fashion is velvet and im going to talk about this a lot because it’s so super glamorous to me and resonates with me more as opposed to other textures that are trending like suede and corduroy.

velvet is so rich and perfect for december because of the cold weather. velvet to me just SCREAMS chic and luxurious. another texture i’ve always loved for the colder seasons is furs! miu mius first look from the fall 2024 fashion show set the stage for how popular chocolate browns are this month. chocolate brown is the chicest shade of cocoa ✨

december fashion also incorporates lots of layering because of the weather, but to master this you must layer FASHIONABLY. layering is so fun because we can really play with textures and colors. some tips to do this are as follows…💬🎀

mix textures to add dimension and interest

play around with proportions (for example big fur coat + tiny silky dress. or puffer jackets with a fashionable pair of jeans)

statement outerwear pieces!!

moving away from the fashion point of view on december trends, i wanna talk about the “can’t pay the mortgage” trend of december. so essentially you’d tell your significant other that you can’t pay the rent/mortgage, all while knowing that they have never payed for the mortgage.

so naturally, the husbands after hearing this they’re confused and some even offended that their wife would even have to think about paying the mortgage. i think that this trend is really cute, and its a harmless prank and its really beautiful to see women in equitable relationships where they’re being taken care of and happy. I LOVE TO SEE WOMEN WINNN.

HUNNY I CANT PAY THE MORTGAGE (BY THE LOVELY @osculum-frombee) ;

For December trends let’s go out with some advice that could better you in 2025, relationships. Let’s talk about love and expectations we all experience.

The perfect trend for this is the recent “Can’t pay the mortgage trend” where wives or partners tell their husbands they can’t pay the mortgage and see their reactions. This trend was originally done by 100% couples where the man paid all the bills in the household, or couples where the man paid half the bills (like the mortgage and perhaps something else) while the wife paid other bills but then 50/50 couples started participating in the trend and the differences in reaction was… shocking to say the least?

Reactions ;

The reactions betweeen the 50/50 men and the 100% men were obviously very different, but the question is just how different?...💬🎀

The men who paid most or all of the bills in the household almost immediately laughed or joked about their wife and how she doesn’t pay the bills anyway, some were confused and looked at their wife like “Babe..what?🤨” while some played along and pretend like they had no idea what they were going to do but reassured their wife they would handle it (my personal faves)

While the 50/50 men would have a DRASTICALLY different reaction these men would either blank out or rage out at the idea their wife or girlfriend couldn’t handle it, the guys who blanked out asking their wife is she could take overtime or saying they didn’t know what to do while the ones who raged out went to cursing or degrading their wives.

These reactions show perfectly what you do and DONT want in a relationship. The way your partner reacts and treats you is everything and there’s a difference between the way a provider would react and a stingy man would.

The trend isn’t about saying you should date a man who pays 100% of the bills if you don’t want to, or that all 50/50 men are trash. Like all things this requires PERSPECTIVE and knowing what YOU personally WANT

In times like this with the economy there are people out there who can’t do it with just one income alone, and that doesn’t mean you or your partner is a peice of crap for having to split the bills to make it...💬🎀

A provider man ;

You want to- no NEED to ensure that regardless of how much money your partner or you make, that whoever your dating is a provider man, who is more focused on taking care of you then you taking care of him, a problem solver who can save money for a rainy day, there are men out there who do 50/50 but ensure they take care of their partners, worship the ground they walk on and PROVIDE, do their best to take the stress off their partners shoulders while also taking care of household issues, men who put effort in emotionally and understand that relationships are a 2 way street, aren’t stingy about spending on their loved ones and treat their partners like the rare gemstone they are. THATS the type of man you want, whether he be filthy rich with generational wealth or a man who gives it his all either way.

There are 50/50 men out there who save money and if their partner ever said they couldn’t do their part of the bills this month he would move mountains to ensure his partners stressed was alleviated and create a solution to the problem, that could be him working overtime or taking money out of the savings or covering that months expenses himself if he can, he wouldn’t yell or argue, or curse profanities , he would help and ensure they were taken care of.

Emotional matters ;

There are men who may seem like the better choice, men who are rich and perfect on paper, but it’s not about how much money your partner has it’s how they react to the things they cannot buy. If you’re partner throws money and expensive bags at you without a second thought but when it comes to getting to know you and understand you, gaining your trust, talking through emotional issues and you trying to communicate to them they shun you out, get mad or dismissive then this isn’t the partner for you, wether you be man or women. You may think someone can buy things like your trust, effort, energy and genuine love but those are things that can’t ever be bought these things take experience, time spent with that person, arguments and makeups, it takes learning and growing to trust that person to love them. having a partner who doesn’t put effort in emotionally or mentally isn’t having a partner at all it’s simply being occupied or “busied” by someone else who won’t put forth a real connection with you.

What you want vs what you’re told to ;

I saw a video of a women saying her and her husband go 50/50 they use 1 salary for bills and expenses and use the other for savings, she said she likes it this way, she has her bachelors and her masters degree and chose not to quit working after becoming pregnant she listed points that were SO important

She mentioned how she liked having the fridge stocked, how she like vacationing whenever she wanted, she liked buying what she wanted and not struggling. The point I’m making is that it’s all about what you want and what feels right for you, but also about how your partner treats you. If you decide to go 50/50 on the financial labor and are with a man who doesn’t care about you or is very “dusty” you’re going to be unhappy and unfulfilled but its also the same if you’re dating a man who pays 100% yet still ignores every other need in a relationship like mental and emotional, youll be unfulfilled and unhappy.

If you’re going 50/50 make sure you're dating a man who’s clean and willing and likes to help around the house, who can clean or cook and will put effort into all aspects of this relationship. If you want to work but be 100% taken care of and save the money you make or spend it freely it’s your life, if you want to be a stay at home mom or parent or just want to stay at home and be 100% taken care of it’s your life, if you want to have your fantasy “the way of the househusband” life where you work and pay all the bills and your husband stays at home, cooks and cleans and takes care of everything else than babygirl it’s your life and honestly rock it?

It’s your life and it shouldn’t be curated to anyone else’s wants or expectations as long as you’re happy fulfilled, with a provider/ problem solver who will move mountains for you be happy. You’re not a roommate for going 50/50 when you’re truly loved and respected in your relationship and your partner isn’t stingy. Whichever way you want your relationship to go make sure you find a partner who is on the same page and can give you that, don’t try to force a clown to be a king because then the entire kingdom will end up a circus, don’t chase or fight with a man who doesn’t want to give you what you want or doesn’t view you as worth it or cannot afford to, find a partner who is aligned in your ideas and values and is entirely pleased to provide you what it is you wish.

The beauty of the trend ;

While some people do scrutinize women who are in a healthy 50/50 relationship or women who want to go to work and still be provided for. It’s not about that this trend is about showing women what’s possible, that providing 100% for a man will always lead to you being depleted and drained in every way possible, that the better and healthier relationship is out there and that there are men who would do anything to be with you and keep you and let their actions show as such not just financially but emotionally. Women have said that this trend has shown them their husbands or partners aren’t worth it and that it’s opened them up to a better way of living and has shown them their better off single than with a man who depletes them.

This is about empowering women and I notice this trend goes hand in hand or is the sister to the “women in male fields trend” a trend that showcased women acting like men and talking about what they’d experienced with them, that trend was women saying they were done with that treatment and this trend is about showing women they can do better.

Conclusion ;

Going into 2025, focus on yourself- find out what it is you want.

And if there’s anything you take away from this segment let it be that:

It’s about what you want

50/50 doesn’t make either of you bad

Better is always out there

You are the love of your life

Thank you for reading my first ever segment in the It girls magazine💕💖

WHICH HOLIDAY IT GIRL AM I? ;

are y'all ready to discover what type of it girl you are this holiday season? take this quiz to figure out which festive vibe suits your personality. lets see how ur sleighing this season…💬🎀

1. your ideal holiday party look is:

a) a sparkling, gold sequin-covered dress that’s sure to steal the spotlight

b) a chic velvet jumpsuit with fluffy details and elegant accessories

c) a fluffy sweater with a touch of holiday glam — think sparkly headbands and cute socks

d) a glamorous satin gown in red or emerald green, paired with glamorous makeup and red bottoms

2. what’s your go-to holiday drink?

a) sparkling champagne or a festive glittery mocktail

b) a warm, spiced apple cider

c) pink hot cocoa with extra marshmallows, topped with whipped cream

d) a luxurious holiday latte with hints of peppermint or caramel

3. your favorite way to spend christmas eve is:

a) attending lavish holiday parties, and kissing under mistletoes

b) enjoying a candlelit dinner with close friends or family, and watching cozy christmas movies

c) baking holiday cookies and wrapping gifts while sipping on hot chocolate

d) getting all glammed up for a special dinner and exchanging glamorous gifts with ur girls

4. when decorating for the holidays, you:

a) i go ALL out with sparkly lights, glittery ornaments and a chic color scheme for pinkmas

b) elegant neutral decor with touches of greenery, its classic duh

c) a cozy vibe with diy ornaments, fairy lights, and plaid everything

d) love classic red, green, and white with vintage-style baubles for a traditional yet glamorous feel

5. what's your holiday music playlist vibe?

a) mariah carey’s “all i want for christmas is you” on repeat

b) classic jazz and soft holiday tunes

c) cozy acoustic christmas songs and christmas movie soundtracks

d) holiday hits that make you want to dance like wham and micheal bublé

6. what's your holiday beauty look?

a) bold red lips, highlighter that shines like snow, and glittery eyeshadow

b) soft, glowing skin with a natural glam look — think minimal but chic

c) a cozy but cute look with a bright red lip and simple, glowing skin

d) smokey eyes, dramatic lashes, think holiday bimbo

7. your dream holiday getaway is:

a) a glamorous snowy cabin retreat with hot cocoa and a warm fire, and complete with an evening of glitzy christmas parties

b) a cozy winter escape in the mountains with scenic views and a fireplace

c) a festive city escape, with christmas markets, hot chocolate, and cozy cafes

d) a luxurious tropical resort, giving beachside holiday vibe

results:

mostly a’s: the sparkling diva ✨ you’re all about the glam and sparkle this holiday season! from dazzling sequins to luxurious accessories, you know how to shine brighter than the christmas lights. you love the glitz and glamour of the season and aren’t afraid to make a statement — just like the holiday parties you attend!

mostly b’s: the elegant sophisticate 🥂 you bring class and sophistication to everything you do this holiday season. whether it’s a cozy dinner or a quiet night by the fire, you exude an effortless elegance. this holiday season, you’ll be enjoying luxurious simplicity — think velvet, classic red lips, and timeless decor.

mostly c’s: the cozy glam girl 💖 you’re all about warmth, coziness, and making the season special in your own way. whether it’s baking cookies, wrapping gifts, or cuddling up with your favorite holiday movies, you embrace all things festive and chic. this holiday, it’s about combining comfort and glamour for the perfect holiday vibe!

mostly d’s: the classic glamazon 💅🏼 you’re the definition of classic holiday glamour! whether you’re rocking a satin gown or glamming up your beauty look, you always bring sophistication and style to the season. for you, it’s all about elegant traditions, bold accessories, and a glamorous holiday look that can’t be ignored.

109 notes · View notes

fanfictwins · 16 days ago

Text

SAGAU Liyue - Holiday Special 2024

Summary: “A Christmas surprise party with a Liyuean twist — the perfect gift planned for you by the two young girls who wanted you to feel more at home. How could you NOT have fun with it?”

Word Count: ~10.4k

The pleasant fragrance of mixed herbs, similar to the bunches of purple and white ones held in your arms, hit your nose as you stepped through the doorway of Bubu Pharmacy, the figures of two small girls by your side. With the variety of medicinal herbs stored within its walls, it was no surprise that it smelled great whenever you visited, no matter whether morning, noon, or night.

“Your Grace…? Why, I certainly hope you’re not here because you require my aid?”

Your gaze rose from the herbs to see Baizhu with a smile on his face, subtle surprise etched into his expression. Changsheng matched his gaze, raising her head up to better look at you.

“Oh, I’m fine, doc. I was just helping Qiqi with her wildcrafting.” You lifted your arms up just so, showing off everything you gathered with a proud smile, as the aforementioned zombie raised her own arms up to place the batch of herbs she collected on the counter. “I had to climb along so many cliffs and mountain peaks, but I got ‘em! I didn’t let a single one I saw go unplucked!”

Baizhu seemed to get more surprised, but it quickly melted into a calmer smile. “You needn’t exert yourself like that, Your Grace, but I thank you for your assistance. It’s much appreciated.”

You handed the herbs to Herbalist Gui, who visibly jolted when your hand brushed against his during the exchange. He excused himself so quickly after that he almost tripped and dropped the bundles everywhere, but managed to get away with everything held tightly in his arms and a flustered look on his face. It wasn’t anything that you weren’t already fully used to at this point.

“Aw, there’s no need to be so formal with me. In fact, if you ever need some rare or hard-to-get ingredient, you can always ask me. It’s no trouble at all! I like helping you and Qiqu out, honest.”

“Hmm… then I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Your Grace, you worked really hard today!” Yaoyao piped up, drawing your attention to her and her bright smile. “I think you deserve a break! We can handle anything else that comes up.”

You lightly exhaled. “Huh? I know I said I did a lot, but I’m actually not that tired-”

“I insist! In fact, I’m sure my master would love to sit down and have tea with you. It’s been some time since you’ve personally visited her, right? She still talks a lot about the last time!”

“I… guess I can go see her, then?” You were still smiling, if a bit confused now, but you waved off the four as you began to leave. “I’ll see you all around. Don’t get into too much trouble, ‘kay?”

The moment you were out of sight, down the pharmacy’s stairs, Yaoyao turned to her friend.

“You got everything written down, right?”

“...mmm, yeah.”

The zombie slowly took out her notebook, flipping it open to the newest page, which was filled with scribbles. Her handwriting made it hard to make out some words, but a closer look made most of them legible enough to read; some of the words were bigger than others, emphasizing their importance, but the biggest one was centered almost in the middle — “Christmas”.

Yaoyao smiled brightly, gently taking the notebook out of Qiqi’s hands and holding it up as she looked at it. “Perfect! Now we can make sure to tell everyone about everything we learned!”

“And what’s this about?” Baizhu peered down at the girls from his spot behind the counter. “Scheming behind Their Grace’s back after getting Them to leave? That’s not very nice.”

Changsheng scoffed. “It’s downright rude!”

“It’s for a good reason! Well… sort of.” Yaoyao turned the notebook around to show the doctor its pages. “While we were gathering herbs, Their Grace started telling us about Their home, and They mentioned this one celebration… “Criss-miss”? That’s how They pronounced it. And, They seemed a bit sad when talking, so I’ve decided that we should throw Them a “Christmas party”!”

Qiqi raised her arms in the air, mimicking Yaoyao. “Party…!”

“Oooh…” There was a hint of interest in Baizhu’s smile. “That sounds quite nice.”

“Yeah, and everyone can help make it a big surprise!” Yaoyao closed the notebook and gave it back to Qiqi. “So forgive me, Dr. Baizhu, but I have to borrow Qiqi for a bit. We’ve a lot to plan!”

“Very well, but stay safe, you two!”

The doctor called out as the two girls set out, hand in hand as they took the first step towards their goal — throwing the Divine Creator a surprise “Christmas party” with the other vessels.

- - - - -

There was always one thing on the top of your to-do list whenever you visited Liyue, and that was making a trip to Wanmin Restaurant. Even when the other restaurants tried to catch your attention, you usually passed them by; they weren’t bad at all, by any means, but there was just something about Wanmin that dragged you back in for a meal whenever you were in the harbor.

And Chef Mao never complained about the big boost of business he got after one of your visits.

“Chef Mao!”

You smiled at the man as you approached, the delicious scents wafting from the restaurant’s kitchen already invading your nostrils from half a street away. You were able to identify some of the restaurant’s dishes by scent alone, but there were also new ones you weren’t familiar with.

“Your Grace, it’s an honor!” Chef Mao smiled at you from his spot behind the counter. “Are you having your usual today? I always stock up on extra ingredients whenever I hear you’re around.”

You let out a long hum. “Maybe… but I’m also feeling kind of adventurous today…”

The sight of a familiar panda-esque bear poking his head out around the corner of the doorway to the kitchen cut off your train of thought, your smile reappearing as you turned towards him.

“Oh, Guoba! Hello!”

The bear flinched at being spotted, hurrying back into the kitchen and leaving you staring at the spot he had just been in. You couldn’t ignore the clanging of metal that soon followed from inside the kitchen, before hearing a familiar voice exclaim, “They’re here?! Right now?!”, which in itself was followed by the restaurant’s head chef stumbling out of the kitchen, Guoba on her heels.

Xiangling looked a bit unkempt, dusting herself off before looking at you with a smile.

“Your Grace, it’s an honor!”

Like father, like daughter.

“Xiangling, are you…” You gave her a once-over, taking note of the various splatters of colorful spices and sauces decorating her from head-to-toe, like an abstract art-piece. “...okay?”

Her smile became sheepish as she followed your gaze, looking down at herself briefly before looking back up at you. “Aha… yeah, I was just… surprised you’re here. I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Oh… sorry for the surprise. I just wanted to get some lunch.”

Xiangling nodded. “Then I’ll get right on that! The usual?”

“Actually, something smells really good in the kitchen. What’re you cooking?”

“Uh, it’s… um… I’m kind of just working something new out, I…”

Xiangling averted her eyes, her gaze looking at everything but you before it ended up on Guoba, asking him for help. The bear lightly flinched, his own eyes widening as he babbled incoherently.

“Oh, Your Grace.”

The cool tone of Shenhe’s voice cut through the air, cutting off Guoba and almost forcing your attention to shift itself over to her. Her hands held a large wooden crate that leaned against her body, the contents no doubt too heavy for any mere mortal to lift despite the ease at which the woman in front of you was handling it, and you watched as she calmly looked at Xiangling.

“Here. I gathered everything you said you might need for your secret dishes.”

That made you look at Xiangling again. “Oooh, secret dishes?”

The head chef looked ready to pass out, before she quickly shook her head and calmed down.

“W-Well, you see…” Xiangling fidgeted before she sighed, only to perk up moments later as an idea entered her head. “Actually, I could use your help. Yaoyao recently told me that you told her about this thing called “Christmas”...? And she mentioned a few dishes that are supposed to be made for it, but I’m struggling to figure them out since all I’ve got are the names of the dishes.”

“You’re… trying to make Christmas dishes?”

Xiangling nodded. “Yep! Because, you know… it’s food from another world! Your world! I’d really like to learn how to make dishes from your home, Your Grace! I’m sure they’re super tasty!”

That made perfect sense to you.

“You don’t need to be nervous asking for help, Xiangling. I’d be glad to give you a hand.”

“Thank you, Your Grace!”

You ended up sitting down at one of the nearby tables — even though it wasn’t necessarily a quiet hour for business, one table quickly became cleared up once you needed it — after your order was made with Xiangling right by your side, the chef eagerly listening as you told her all about some of the more common Christmas dishes that came to your mind between bites of your lunch. You tried your best to explain the dishes as much as you could, sparing no detail.

The variety was wide, from baked ham, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole, candied sweet potatoes… even if you never personally had some of the dishes you listed out, you still named them and described what you had heard they were like.

“Oh, and there’s usually a roasted turkey.”

Xiangling blinked, an interested glimmer in her eyes. “Turkey?”

“Yeah, it’s… a kind of bird. I don’t think Teyvat has anything quite like them, though… oh!” You raised your utensils up, pointing at Xiangling. “There’s this one dish called a “Turducken” that some people have, where you stuff a chicken into a duck, then stuff that duck into a turkey.”

“So it’s a… three-bird roast?”

“Yep!”

“That sounds interesting… and I could do the chicken and duck part, but without a turkey…”

“I think some people use a goose instead of a turkey.” You lightly tapped your chin with your utensils. “Even in my world, turkeys are only available and easy to obtain in certain areas.”

Xiangling thought for a moment, before a smile returned to her face and she nodded.

“Alright, I think I can do that… no, I definitely can do that! I’ll make the best Christmas dishes ever! I can’t wait to try them myself! Thank you so much for all of your help, Your Grace!”

“It’s no problem.” You laid your utensils down on your empty dish, wiping your mouth off with a napkin before you stood up. “I just hope you allow me to taste-test them when you’re done.”

Xiangling let out a slight laugh, looking away nervously. “Y-Yeah, of course you’ll be able to!”

You gave Shenhe a word of thanks as she collected your empty lunch dishes, and gave Chef Mao and Xiangling a hearty wave goodbye as you left, only making it past the neighboring shop before a horde of people rushed by you. You glanced over your shoulder to see them all queuing up at the restaurant, and sighed from knowing that you were the sole reason for the lunch rush.

Xiangling loudly exhaled the moment you were out of sight, her whole body relaxing at the same time. Guoba copied her movements, before smiling up at the young girl and babbling briefly.

“Shenhe!” Xiangling’s cheeks puffed out a bit as she looked up at the tall woman. “Please be more careful! I’m lucky I was able to get some advice out of it and that Their Grace didn’t catch onto the plan, but it would’ve been super bad if They found out! It would’ve ruined the surprise!”

Shehne blinked. “...ah, my apologies, but I did state that your new dishes are a secret, didn’t I?”

“You’re not supposed to say that it’s a secret out loud!”

“Ahem, Xiangling! Shenhe! I could use a little help here!”

The two ladies — and Guoba — looked over to see Chef Mao overwhelmed at the restaurant’s counter. They could hear most of the customers asking for “what the Divine Creator ordered”.

“Sorry, dad! We’ll be right on it!”

Xiangling and Guoba hurried back into the kitchen, the clanging of metal starting up again as they began to prep food to serve, and Shenhe returned to the dining area to clean the tables so that some of the customers would have a place to sit when dining on the day’s “popular dish”.

Chef Mao sighed. “...and this is why I make sure to order extra ingredients.”

- - - - -

Even with many pairs of eyes staring at you for almost the entire time you were passing by, walking around Liyue Harbor was usually a peaceful and pleasant experience; the stares you received from the locals were mostly of awe, and they never tried to get into your actual space, instead always keeping a respectful distance that allowed your walk to go without a hindrance.

But those were just the behaviors of the normal folk.

Your vessels were of a completely different sort.

“Your Grace…!”

You had been strolling near the docks, admiring the ships out at sea, only to look in front of you to see Xinyan — who had called out to you — and Yun Jin coming to a stop before you. The two had to take a minute to catch their breath, Xinyan even having to place her hands on her knees.

“Xinyan? Yun Jin?” You looked between the two performers with a concerned frown on your lips, your eyebrows furrowed. “Are you two alright? Why were you running? Is something wrong…?”

The rocker stood up straight with a smile on her face, shaking her hands out as she shook her head. “It’s nothing bad, Your Grace. Whew, I just finished up a real blazin’ performance, so-”

“Halt!”

Your head swiveled in the direction of the shout, seeing the two girls follow suit from the corner of your eye, just to see a couple of Millelith soldiers with gazes solely focused on Xinyan. They came to a stop next to you and the performers, not having to catch their breath like the latter.

The rocker frowned. “Shoot.”

The two soldiers stared Xinyan down, one tapping his polearm on the ground. “Miss Xinyan, you have been charged with multiple fire code violations. You can’t just keep running away from us.”

“The only thing that got burned was the stage I built myself…”

“That’s not an excuse. Someone still could have gotten hurt.”

“Oh, okay… that makes sense.” You smiled at Xinyan. “You were running from the law, huh?”

The sound of your voice, your tone a bit amused, made the soldiers finally take notice of your presence, and the way they were taken aback to realize that it was you made your smile grow just a little bit more. Their eyes went wide, and they seemed to lose any and all strength in their stances — if only for a moment before they corrected themselves, their faces now a light pink.

“Ack- the Divine Creator?”

The soldiers fumbled with their weapons before bowing to you.

“Forgive us for not acknowledging you, Your Grace. It was rude of us!”

“It’s not a big deal, guys. You two are just doing your jobs, focusing on handling crime-”

Your attention briefly shifted itself back to Xinyan, who was clearly trying to tell you something through just her gaze and body posture. Her head made wide turns as she looked between you and the Millelith soldiers, the sparkle in her eyes conveying a plea as dramatic as a rock opera.

“BUT…! You can leave Xinyan to me.”

The rocker pumped a fist at your words, smiling wide once you received her signal.

“I’m sure you have more important matters that take precedence over this situation? I can make sure that Xinyan receives a punishment befitting her fire code violations. Consider it dealt with.”

The soldiers blinked a few times, before glancing at each other.

“Is… is that allowed?”

“It’s the Divine Creator. They should be able to handle it… right?”

They looked back at you after a quiet moment of deliberation amongst themselves, giving you a nod in affirmation. “Very well. We shall leave this matter in your capable hands, Your Grace.”

You continued to smile as you watched the soldiers hesitantly leave, casting glances over their shoulders at you before they disappeared out of your sight, before you looked at the performers.

“...I’m surprised that that worked. I didn’t think they’d accept that I have any authority for this.”

“But it’s a good thing it did!” Xinyan smiled. “Thanks for helping me out, Your Grace!”

Yun Jin hummed as her head tilted. “What kind of punishment would you even give Xinyan?”

You thought for a moment, putting a finger on your chin, before you smiled again.

“Eternal banishment?”

“Aw, shucks.” Xinyan continued to smile brightly, even as faux disappointment laced itself into her voice and a small chuckle escaped her lips. “Ain’t that just a bit too harsh, Your Grace?”

You snorted, rolling your eyes before focusing on the rocker again. “I suppose so. Just be more careful, okay? I doubt you’d actually end up hurting someone during a performance, but still.”

“Since you’re the one saying to, Your Grace…”

You shared another small laugh with Xinyan before noticing Yun Jin perk up, her eyes widening as if she had just had a sudden thought, and you found her red eyes looking right into your eyes.

“Oh, Your Grace, if you have the time, we actually require some of your help-”

“Well, now, what’s with all the commotion here?”

With the suddenness of a cheap indie jumpscare, a familiar figure popped up from between your little trio, springing onto her feet with her usual smile plastered on her face. The question of when she had snuck so close was wholly forgotten as Xinyan, Yun Jin, and you reacted appropriately.

“Wha- Hu Tao!” You clutched a hand to your chest. “Are you trying to give us all heart attacks?”

“Oh, no, no no! It’s far too early for you three!” The unwavering smile of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor director did little too soothe you, especially when she winked. “But… if you’re ever feeling unwell, Your Grace, I hope you’ll choose our humble business to make your exit a smooth one!”

“Director Hu, I highly doubt Their Grace will require our services anytime in the near future.”

“Hehe, you can never know~!”

The director was, of course, accompanied by the parlor’s consultant. His golden gaze moved from his boss to you, a hint of fondness softening the stoic expression displayed on his face.

“Zhongli!” You smiled at the sight of the consultant, Yun Jin and Xinyan greeting him with a bow and a wave respectively. “Am I to assume you two are currently on another advertising kick?”

“Yep, yep!” Hu Tao nodded. “New clients are always guaranteed, but we still must make sure all potential clients know exactly where all their farewell needs will be dealt with the proper respect.”

You hummed before looking at Zhongli. “And how many future clients have you two convinced?”

“The director… managed to get plenty of attention towards our business.”

Hu Tao playfully laughed. “Hey now, only time will tell how many clients take up our offer.”

You snorted and shook your head. “You… are certainly a handful, Hu Tao.”

“Mmm-hmm! But enough about me! What’s been going on with you three? While passing by, I couldn’t help but notice that you three all seemed to be having quite an interesting time together.”

“Just saving Xinyan from the Millelith, I suppose- oh!” You swiveled on your heel to face Yun Jin once more. “Right, you were asking for my help with something? What do you need from me?”

Yun Jin perked up again, seeming to remember she was about to request something before the shock of the funeral parlor’s staff arrival interrupted her, and nodded. “That’s right, Your Grace. I was just going to ask you about… I believe it’s called “Christmas” music? Yaoyao told us about it recently, and we were interested in learning more about it. We hoped that you’d help with that.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah!” Xinyan sported a brief look of confusion on her face before she also nodded, a smile appearing on her lips. “It sounds mighty interesting, Your Grace! I’d love to learn enough to perform music from your world! I’m sure there're plenty of rockin’ tunes you could tell us about.”

It took you a moment to process what they had said.

“You guys… want to learn about Christmas music?”

“Oooh!” Hu Tao leaned over your shoulder. “Music from Their Grace’s world? Count me in!”

Your gaze moved between the three ladies — the rocker, the opera singer, and the poet — who all stared back at you with interested gazes, before it flickered over to Zhongli, whose demeanor was more alert than it usually was around you… which you honestly should have expected; that he of all people would be interested in learning more about you in any capacity was no surprise.

“Uh… I guess I can teach you guys the songs I know? But don’t expect me to write down any of the melodies or anything. I have no skills in musical notation, especially if it’s just from memory.”

Xinyan waved her hand in dismissal. “You can just sing them for us, Your Grace.”

“Wha- wait, what? Me, sing?”

“To hear the Divine Creator sing…” Zhongli mused to himself, arms crossed with a finger held up to his chin. “...that would be quite the honor. It would make Glaze Lilies full-bloom, no doubt.”

You let out a weak laugh. “I-I’m not too sure about that…”

“Aw, come on, come on!” Hu Tao grabbed onto your shoulder, leaning in even closer, her face inches from your own. “Some people would find the chance to hear you sing worthy to die for!”

You took in a sharp inhale as you practically felt the hopes and expectations emitting from the four people around you, and eventually let out a long sigh, your shoulders coming to a slump.

“...fine, but how about we all go somewhere… not so public first?”

- - - - -

The two blue-haired boys in front of you each had a different expression on their face, one of which was a look of concern — though he was clearly trying to keep himself cool at the same time — while the other was fighting to hide the subtle hints of a smirk creeping onto his lips.

Your own face was a perfect display of confusion. “I… I’m sorry? What is this about?”

“Your Grace, I’ve heard rumors of a… a “Christmas” demon! But I’m unfortunately without any knowledge on what type of fiend it may be. I’m going to require your assistance to exorcise it.”

You stared at the young exorcist in front of you for a few seconds before looking to the second son of the Feiyun Commerce Guild, catching him hiding his laughter and disguising a snort that escaped as a cough with a closed fist over his mouth, and you slowly furrowed your eyebrows.

…that explains it.

“Well-” You looked at Chongyun again. “-the only Christmas “demon” I know of is “Krampus”.”

Chongyun raised a hand to his chin. “Such a sinister name… please, can you tell me everything you know about it? I must know as much as I can about the fiend in order to be able to stop it.”

“It kind of depends on who you ask, but, basically, Krampus is a demon who punishes naughty children around the time Christmas is celebrated. You know… the kind of children who cause a lot of trouble for other people, who misbehave and don’t play nice, who lie for no good reason.”

You glanced at Xingqiu, who had gone still with an almost worried smile at your expression.

“He’s covered in dark hair, has horns and hooves and fangs, and a long pointed tongue — oh, and he carries around chains, I think? Sometimes with bells. The punishments he doles out on bad children are stuff like swatting them on the butts with branches… or snatching them away in a basket to who-knows-where. To drown them or eat them… or something along those lines.”

“That… that’s horrible!” Chongyun appeared to actually get a bit heated as you spoke, his hands clenching into tight fists in front of his chest. “I must make sure to stop it before it hurts anyone!”

“Whoa there, Chongyun. Calm down and have a popsicle, ‘kay?” You let your lips curve up into a smile, and put a hand on the exorcist’s shoulder. “Krampus sure is a horrible guy and all… but he’s also fictional; just a character that parents tell their children about to make them behave, to teach them lessons about being nice and stuff. He’s not actually real — well, not that I know of, anyway — and, even if he was, he wouldn’t be anywhere in Teyvat. He’d be stuck in my world.”

Chongyun’s breathing was heavy, his face already flushed, but he managed to take one of his popsicles out and bite into it to calm himself. “Ugh, Your Grace… you could’ve started with that.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” You let go of Chongyun’s shoulder. “But how’d you even hear about Krampus? I don’t think I’ve told anyone about him before right now with you two.”

“Xingqiu told me about it.”

The guilty party put his hands up in defense as you looked at him. “H-Hey, I was just having a little fun. I honestly had no idea that there was actually a demon associated with Christmas.”

“An unlucky guess then, huh?” You paused for a moment. “...but how’d you even hear about Christmas? Did Yaoyao tell you about it too? It seems like the talk of the harbor nowadays…”

That innocent line of questioning had a greater chilling effect than his popsicle, it seemed, as Chongyun froze at the moment. Xingqiu stepped in and quickly pushed his friend aside, your hand leaving the exorcist’s shoulder to linger in the air. “She did inform us of it, yes. It sounds like a quaint holiday, so it makes sense that a child such as herself would want to tell everyone she knows about it. I admit, it has even perked my interest too, from everything I’ve been told.”

“...huh, that’s nice. I’m glad everyone seems to be enjoying the concept.”

There was something off about all this, but not in a bad way, so you brushed it off for now.

Xingqiu nodded as he continued to smile at you happily. “But now that that’s settled, we should get going. I’m sure you’ve got a busy schedule, Your Grace. We wouldn’t want to hold you up.”

Chongyun blinked, coming back to reality. “Ah, wait-”

“Tsk, Chongyun, you’re still all red. You should have another popsicle.”

The exorcist didn’t get a chance to speak again before Xingqiu stuffed another tasteless frozen treat into his mouth, the latter then hurriedly pushing his flustered friend away down the street.

“It was pleasant to speak with you, Your Grace!”

The two boys soon disappeared into the distance, leaving you standing there alone.

“Uh… bye, I guess?”

- - - - -

Another day, another surprise.

You blinked a few times, making sure that the lady you were looking at was actually there. You didn’t exactly have a history of having hallucinations, but everything had been… bizarre this last week or so, and it wouldn’t hurt you to just check that you were still all there up in your noggin.

“Lady Ningguang?”

“Your Grace, what a pleasant surprise.”

The Tianquan was calm, politely greeting you with a soft smile on her lips, a smile reserved for you and you alone. Her being was a living display of high-class status, the epitome of luxury…

…and she was currently just hanging out at the docks.

You were not someone who could criticize her for it, though; for some people, it was odd for you to be hanging around Liyue Harbor’s docks so casually, as no one really expected to see one of the gods they worshiped watching the ships or examining the goods of incoming, docked ships.

“Uh… so, what’re you doing here? Taking in the ocean breeze?”

Ningguang chuckled. “I simply have business to discuss with Beidou. It’s nothing of concern, but is important enough that I have decided to come see her myself as soon as she arrives.”

“Wait, the Alcor is docking soon?” You perked up, your gaze glancing between the water and Ninguang, who looked at the water herself. “Wow, my timing’s great! Mind if I wait with you?”

“I’d see it as an honor, Your Grace.”

You got into position beside Ningguang, leaning forward slightly as you looked out at the ships sailing across the nearby waters. The operation at the harbor was always so smooth, orderly, and satisfying — you were embarrassed to admit how much time you had spent just lingering around the docks whenever you visited Liyue, being a bystander to the comings and goings of the ships and the people working here. This time, however, you were trying to focus on spotting the Alcor among the other seacraft, assuming its distinct design would stand out among them.

The moment was quiet, aside from the waves and workers, until Ningguang spoke again.

“Your Grace, I’m planning to do a bit of decorating around the Jade Chamber.”

“Oh?”

“I was thinking about adding a tree.”

You paused for a few seconds, before slowly looking at Ningguang. “A… tree?”

“Yes, a tree. Would you have any suggestions for the type?”

Wow.

You suddenly forgot about every tree you have ever known about.

“Ah, hmm… well, it’s your Jade Chamber. You should choose whichever tree you prefer. I know you’ve got good taste, and will be able to fit anything you choose into your amazing aesthetics.”

“I should choose, you say…? Very well.”

You soon settled back into a comfortable silence, continuing to wait on the docks with subdued excitement pumping through your veins, before finally catching the sight of the Alcor making its way over to the docks. It took a while for the ship to actually dock, having to navigate around the multiple others nearby, but the moment that it had, Ningguang and you made your way over to it.

You passed by some of the crew members unloading various types of cargo, before seeing the captain of the ship walk down the gangplank, who smiled when she saw you and the Tianquan.

“The Tianquan AND Their Grace are here to greet me? Something serious must be up, huh?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that!” You smiled. “I just got lucky to be here as you got back.”

“Haha, you flatter me, Your Grace. I’d typically consider myself the lucky one.”

Ningguang shook her head just slightly, her expression more reserved than yours. “Although it’s not of any major concern, I do have something to discuss with you, Captain Beidou. Shall we?”

“Huh, alright.”

Beidou gave you a nod as she walked off with Ningguang to talk, the two women leaving you on your own. You found yourself curious about what they could be talking about, but figured it would be rude to try and eavesdrop or force yourself into the conversation; that, and your attention was finding itself quickly caught by something — or, rather, someone — else that you noticed nearby.

“Kazuha!”

The lips of the wandering samurai turned up into a smile after he heard you call out to him, your form practically bouncing over to him. His eyes followed your movements as he turned to you.

“Greetings, Your Grace.” He gave you a polite nod. “You appear to be in good spirits.”

You waved your hand to the side, before letting it fall to your side in a loose fist. “Aw, I’m always happy to see you. It’s probably impossible to not be; actually, no, it definitely is impossible.”

Kazuha let out a soft chuckle, his shoulders bouncing with the tiniest movements. “Your words today are as warm as the mid-afternoon sun, Your Grace. I’m glad. How have you been lately?”

“Mmm… normal, I guess. Though it feels like something fishy is going on around the harbor.”

“Oh…?”

You held back a snicker. “Get it? Fishy? But, really, I feel like something’s up.”

“That’s troubling. I can lend you my assistance if you desire?”

“Huh? Oh, no!” You waved your hands in front of yourself, your eyes widening just a bit as you continued to smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing big, and, besides, I wouldn’t want to bog down our time together with worries. I don’t see you often enough since you’re always on the road, traveling.”

“Ah, of course. If you’d like to hear it, I’ve come up with some new poetry since we last met.”

“Oooh! Then go ahead and bless my ears, Kazuha.”

The hustle and bustle of the docks faded away as you chatted with Kazuha, intently listening to each and every one of the poetic words falling from his mouth. You even tried coming up with a few poems yourself, but it was difficult to do it on the fly; the praise Kazuha gave your attempts kept you from being discouraged, though some of the metaphors you tried to use felt a lot more poetic in your mind than when you said them out loud. You were in the middle of thinking up how to describe a certain line in your next masterpiece when you realized a lot of time had passed.

You felt a presence approach from the side, and looked up to see Beidou standing there.

Ningguang was nowhere to be found when you gave your surroundings a quick once-over, her elegant presence absent from the nearby crowds, and that meant she must have left long ago.

The captain looked between you and Kazuha, her smile apologetic when her gaze stopped on you. “Sorry, Your Grace, but I have something to talk about with Kazuha. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Hmm? Oh, well… that’s fine. I should probably be going anyhow. See you around!”

You bid the two farewell, seeing them respond in kind, and started walking away from them.

Beidou kept her eye on you until you were completely gone, and she turned to Kazuha.

“Okay, so, there’s this thing called “Christmas”...”

- - - - -

“Please accept my offering, o’ great adeptus, and bless me with your presence this quiet night.”

“...you don’t have to do that, Your Grace.”

The evening air was cool, gentle breezes rolling in from the distance and brushing against you where you stood on the highest balcony in Wangshu Inn. The lanterns from inside and hanging by the doorway cast a warm glow outwards, giving the balcony a cozy atmosphere despite how it faced the dark landscapes of Bishui Plain, the warm hues of the land hidden within shadows.

Your hands held tightly onto a plate of Almond Tofu — expertly and lovingly crafted by your own hands, you were proud to admit — as you smiled at the familiar figure that appeared before you, the sight of the inn’s resident adeptus never failing to bring you joy. The dim lighting made it hard to tell, as well as his usual distant demeanor, but you swore that he was looking a little flustered.

“Aww, why not? Everyone else does it.”

Xiao crossed his arms over his chest. “But you’re not “everyone else”.”

“Hmph.” You pouted, extending your arms out to present the Almond Tofu to him. “Here, you can at least take this. I made it special, just for you. I worked hard to learn the recipe, from the best.”

He stared down at the plate in your hands for a few seconds, before he slowly uncrossed his arms and carefully took it from you. The adeptus continued to stare at the food you prepared while you stared at him, the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks — you internally cursed to yourself about the lack of decent lighting in this moment — before he finally took the first bite.

You spent just a moment watching Xiao carefully savor your expert culinary craftsmanship, and then looked out at the water and shadowed silhouettes of the nearby mountains, leaning yourself against the wooden railing of the balcony. The wood was cold and rough within your tight grip.

“...you know, everyone’s been acting really strange lately. Not in a bad way, but still.”

Your lips parted as you sighed, adjusting your arms to have your elbows on the railing.

“Even the other adepti are being weird. I tried to visit Cloud Retainer in Liyue Harbor, but Shuyu told me that she was really busy, even though she’s normally willing to take a break to chat with me whenever I drop by. Don’t even ask me how the other two are doing, I spent a good amount of time looking around their domains but wasn’t able to find them. It just feels like… like I’m being left out of something; like everyone is hiding something from me. Something that feels… major.”

You turned your head to look at Xiao. “Would you have any idea why?”

The adeptus briefly paused, his gaze meeting yours after having seemingly moved to you while you were talking, before wiping off the almond tofu around his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I…”

He hesitated, his eyes shifting away from you.

- - -

“As one of the Divine Creator’s vessels, you HAVE to come.” Hu Tao had a wide smile on her lips, her hands clenched together into tight fists in front of her chest. “Besides, it’ll be totally fun!”

The adeptus looked uncertain, his gaze shifting to the man accompanying the funeral director.

Zhongli met Xiao’s eyes with a soft smile, giving him a nod as well. “Indeed. Their Grace seems to also be quite fond of this “Christmas” business. It would be a shame if you did not participate.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Hu Tao nodded frantically, bouncing into the space between the adeptus and her consultant to direct the attention back to herself. “Come on…! It’ll only be the other vessels and adepti there. There’s no need to be all cautious and standoffish about it, so what do you say…?”

Xiao still looked conflicted, his eyebrows furrowed, before soon letting out a sigh.

“...very well. For the Divine Creator’s sake.”

Hu Tao clapped her hands. “Yay!”

“Just make sure to keep it a secret from Their Grace, if you end up encountering Them before then.” Zhongli looked pleased with Xiao’s answer, although he was much calmer than his boss was. “It’s supposed to be a “surprise party”, so try to avoid spoiling its existence at all costs.”

The adeptus nodded, crossing his arms.

“Got it.”

- - -

You couldn’t say for sure what exactly was going on inside Xiao’s head, but the expression on his face made it look like he was having some kind of internal war with himself, a struggle with the proverbial “rock and a hard place” that left him not looking forward to picking either option he was presented with. This was probably the most readable his feelings had ever been to anyone.

“Uh… hey, you don’t have to answer, Xiao.”

The adeptus appeared to snap back to reality, blinking as he looked at you.

You slightly smiled as you pushed yourself off of the railing. “I can kind of assume what’s going on. I just wanted to make sure that I wasn't going crazy and seeing something out of nothing.”

Xiao’s lips parted, the softest exhale leaving them. “...I can’t lie to you, Your Grace.”

“Then just don’t say anything.”

You winked at him, your tongue sticking out from your lips. “And you should be busy eating the Almond Tofu I made you, anyways. It’s rude to speak while your mouth’s full, don’tcha know?”

Xiao briefly glanced back down at the plate in his hands, before he nodded.

“...okay.”

- - - - -

“Your presence is requested at the Jade Chamber.”

That was what you were told, but you weren’t able to think of any important reason of why that might be. You had always made sure to greatly distance yourself to the extreme from anything major regarding Liyue’s leadership — no political decision-making or “ruling with an iron fist” for you, even if some folks acted like your word was the single most important thing in all of Teyvat.

The Yuheng and the general secretary both knew that about you very well.

“Is… it for something important? Or does Ningguang just want to, like… play chess with me?”

Ganyu and Keqing shared a brief look with each other, before the former looked back at you, a bit of a nervous frown now on her lips. “It’s… nothing bad, but you should go see for yourself.”

“Here.” Keqing gestured for you to follow after her. “We can escort you.”

You looked down at Keqing’s hand for just a moment, before everything clicked.

The stranger-than-usual behavior of everyone lately… the random-but-very-frequent mentions of Christmas… and now you being requested to such a place as the Jade Chamber practically out of the blue. You even thought about how you couldn’t find a single one of the vessels around the harbor today, despite how you walked through the entire city front-to-back and back-to-front and side-to-side, checking each and every nook and cranny with the hope of finding someone.

You smiled.

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I can get us there quicker.”

You grabbed Keqing’s outstretched hand, the warm hue of her face matching Ganyu’s after you had grabbed the half-qilin’s hand too. Your grip was gentle but firm as you stood between them.

“You- Your Grace…”

“H-Hey, wait-!”

Within seconds, you heard the familiar teleporting sound resonate inside your head before you and your two current companions were warped up onto the platform of the Jade Chamber…

…only to hear a muffled thud accompanying a sudden cold, wet sensation that landed on you.

It felt like a worse version of getting an ice cube put down the back of your shirt.

The powdery substance slid off of the upper-half of your face after you blinked your eyes a few times, which revealed to you that what had just covered you was a thick blanket of snow, and it had also trapped Keqing and Ganyu, turning you three into vaguely self-shaped snow mounds.

You were completely befuddled at this situation.

Snow? At this time of year, in this part of Liyue, localized entirely within the Jade Chamber?

You attempted to shift around, eventually managing to catch sight of the cause of the surprise snowfall. There was a strange machine that almost resembled a snowblower from your world, water being poured into one end and snow coming out of an upwards-chute-like exit located on the other end. The snow coming out now fell softly to the ground, unlike what had just hit you.

The one who created the device crossed her arms, pushing her glasses up slightly.

“Hmph. If the Divine Creator wishes for it to snow, then one shall make it snow.”

“Wow, Aunty Cloud Retainer! You’re amazing!”

Yaoyao looked up at the adeptus with awe, clapping her hands with a bright smile.

You continued to look around — as much as you could in your new form as a snowman — and saw several others lingering about the area, all of which had been mysteriously missing today.

The musicians and performers were all gathered near a small stage that had been set up, doing last-minute checks and practice from what you could tell. You took a few moments to take in the sight of it before you snapped out of your thoughts and focused to hear them through the snow.

Gaming shook his hands out, Man Chai following his lead and shaking his whole body out. “Aha, I’ve been practicing for days and everything, but I’m still getting so nervous all of a sudden…”

“Pre-show jitters, huh?” Xinyan stood on the stage, fiddling with her guitar as she looked down at the Wushou dancer with a slight, unsure smile. “Can’t help but have them myself right now too.”

Yun Jin walked across the stage, her head tilted up to check the decorations hanging up. “Their Grace is so kind, there shouldn’t be any reason to worry… but I can understand the feeling.”

“Hey, hey, just don’t get so nervous you have a heart attack.” Hu Tao had the only smile near the stage free of hesitation. “The business would be nice, but it would be way too inconvenient now.”

There was another section where a buffet had been laid out, Xiangling hovering over the spread with her gaze flickering around to all the various dishes, almost like she was looking for anything that needed any last-minute adjustments made. Guoba stood on a chair next to the chef, putting his paws on the edge of the table as he looked between the dishes and at her with a happy aura.

“I had to make a few guesses here and there about the recipes, even with the advice from Their Grace…” Xiangling furrowed her brows before letting out a sigh. “I hope They like everything.”

“I’m sure They will.” Madame Ping had a gentle smile on her face as she glanced at the food the young chef had prepared. “It all looks and smells absolutely wonderful, there’s no doubt about it.”

Beidou nodded and chuckled. “Now, this is what I call a feast! You outdid yourself, Xiangling!”

“It all sure looks… interesting.”

Yanfei tilted her head, her eyes moving down along the long buffet table as she spoke.

“I… I’m having trouble making out what some of these dishes are, though.”

Xiangling smiled at the reassurances. “Oh, don’t worry. I can explain everything, if you’d like.”

Your attention, however, was soon captured by the main centerpiece of the whole occasion: a beautiful Sandbearer tree decorated with lanterns of all colors, all organized to create the most breathtaking sight you had seen all day. There were actually a lot of lanterns hanging around all over, now that you were conscious of their presence; it almost resembled Lantern Rite, in a way.

Well, a Lantern Rite that was being held on a very miniature scale.

“This is very pleasant.” Kazuha looked up at the tree, his hand over his chest. “I never imagined that a “Christmas tree” would look like this. It brings to the mind a kaleidoscope of Crystalflies.”

Ningguang had her arms crossed, also standing nearby to admire the tree she had put up and decorated to a degree befitting her luxurious aesthetics. “I was informed that the tree was to be decorated in lights and ornaments. I believe Their Grace will be quite pleased with the result.”

“Their Grace has some intriguing traditions from Their world.” Zhongli placed a hand to his chin in thought, his eyes briefly breaking away from the tree. “No wonder They spoke of it so highly.”

By this point, you were getting cold. Way too cold. So cold you felt stiff.

You shook the snow off as you took in a deep breath.

“Okay, that was an experience…”

“Your Grace?!”

You felt two dozen pairs of eyes land on your form as everyone’s head snapped towards your direction, the sound of your voice might as well having been a siren to their ears — your arrival had been expected to be normal, after taking the long route instead of the shortcut you chose to take instead, with some semblance of warning. You smiled bashfully, pulling a now-unconscious Ganyu and Kequing out of their snow piles since you were still holding their hands all this time.

“Hehe… guess I’m not the only one surprised at this surprise party, then?”

- - - - -

Today was the day you discovered how good Guoba and Man Chai made for living Warmies, your once-shivering and soaked body able to warm up and dry off after only a short but sweet cuddle session with them. The party couldn’t start until you were comfortable, after all… as well as until Keqing and Ganyu finally regained consciousness and also got themselves warmed up.

…and the start was unforgettable.

“Behold, Your Grace-”

Truly unforgettable.

“-for one has donned the appearance of a Christmas hero spoken of in tales from your home.”

There, standing in front of you, were some of the adepti, and although the three ladies and Xiao were in their human forms at the party, the other two men were not. That included Moon Carver, the one who had spoken to you first when they approached, who proudly stood in front of you in his stag form… with a glowing red nose — likely made possible by adepti magic, you assumed.

You briefly recalled telling Yaoyao and Qiqi about some stories related to Christmas, which, of course, included “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer”. Turning slightly away for a moment, you raised a hand to cover the smile slowly growing on your lips as you tried to calm yourself down.

“Yeaaah…” Your voice wavered, you being unable to stop your eyes glancing to and from Moon Carver. “Christmas would’ve been cancelled if not for Rudolph. He’s a… a true hero, alright…”

The snort that slipped from your lips went unnoticed by Moon Carver, the adeptus preening at your approval. The planned festivities luckily continued on before you actually started laughing.

- - - - -

They had only had about a week to prepare, but the musical performance was probably one of the, if not the, best thing you had ever witnessed in your life; most everyone had gathered into a crowd in front of the stage as Xinyan, Hu Tao, and Gaming took their places in the spotlight. You were almost too enamoured with the show to notice how Yun Jin occasionally snuck a couple of glances at you from her spot in the crowd next to you, a smile growing on her lips at your own.

The musicians had taken the songs that you told — or, rather, sang to — them and used them as inspiration to come up with a brand-new Christmas song, complete with Xinyan’s rock guitar and Hu Tao’s iconic rapping. Gaming had even created a special routine to go along with all of it.

“Bravo!” You clapped your hands frantically after the performance finished, a whoop escaping your lips as you cheered. “That was… incredible! I loved it! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

The sense of relief that left the performers’ bodies was noticeable, their forms relaxing as your praise finally casted away all of the tension that had plagued them from their pre-show nerves.

“I’m glad, Your Grace.” Yun Jin smiled. “We only had so much time, but we worked really hard.”

“I can tell.” Your cheeks hurt a little from how much you were smiling, and you tilted your head. “I hope I get to see it again someday. That was way too good to be just a one-time performance.”

Gaming let out a chuckle, a sense of weariness in his tone. “I’d be happy to dance for you again, Your Grace. Just… I still need a moment to calm down from the excitement of the first time.”

“Oh-ho! But I’m ready for round two right now!” Hu Tao pumped her fists as she snickered. “I knew Their Grace couldn’t resist my excellent rhyming skills! I could do this all day, any day!”

Xinyan adjusted her grip on her guitar as she looked back at the stage they performed on. “Uh, I think we may have gone a little overboard with the pyrotechnics, though… even for me, heh…”

You followed the rocker’s gaze to the stage, seeing that it… kind of didn’t exist anymore, with all that remained being a stage-shaped pile of charred wood. Given that three Pyro users had used it for their performance, where they had turned up the heat to give you the show of a lifetime, you should have expected this, especially considering Xinyan’s track record with this sort of thing.

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, okay, I think one performance is enough for today, then.”

- - - - -

“Wow, I didn’t know you had such an appetite, Your Grace.”

Xiangling’s eyes were wide as she looked at your plate, which was piled high with servings from the buffet. There was a little of everything, as you wanted to try all of the different dishes that had been prepared by the chef; some looked traditional, and very close to what you had described to her about, while others clearly had creative choices made during their creation. There were also some traditional Liyue dishes being offered — considering how many people were present at the party, Xiangling really made sure that there would be enough food for everyone to have their fill.

You held your plate carefully in front of you. “I can’t help it. Everything looks so good.”

It appeared that many others also held the same opinion, almost everyone filling up their plates with various dishes from the buffet. There were plenty of options; everyone could eat something.

“What is this…?” Ganyu observed a red jam-like substance in one of the bowls, tapping it gently with the small spoon that was provided for folks to scoop it. “It smells like some kind of fruit…?”

“Ah, that’s Valberry sauce!” Xiangling piped up and moved over to the half-qilin. “Their Grace mentioned a dish made with this type of berry called a “Cranberry”, so I had to find a similar substitute. You should be able to eat it, Miss Ganyu. It doesn’t contain any animal products.”

“What I’m more interested in is that!” Beidou pointed to what-could-be-considered the main dish of the whole spread, her eye and smile both wide. “Now that looks like something real special.”

Xiangling smiled as she made her way over to the captain. “That’s a three-bird roast called a “gooducken”. It’s a chicken inside of a duck inside of a goose. I had to do a lot to get it right.”

Beidou let out a long hum. “Oooh, that sounds impressive! I’ll have a big portion, then!”

“I should try something new too…” Keqing looked between her plate and the buffet, a small frown coming to her face. “...but all that I’ve got on my plate is Golden Shrimp Balls so far…”

“Ah! Chongyun! Qiqi! The cold dishes are over here.” Xiangling directed the two over to one side of the buffet table, waving them over while gesturing to the dishes. “There’s plenty for you to try.”

“Here, I’ll help!” Yaoyao scooped food onto Qiqi’s plate. “This looks good. Make sure to eat it all!”

“Okay.”

Chongyun held his plate away from Xingqiu, his eyes shifting between his friend and the food he was putting onto his plate. “Please don’t try to sneak anything spicy onto my plate this time.”

“Why, I would never.” Xingqiu chuckled, a hand held up in defense. “What a random accusation.”

“Your Grace…” Baizhu eyed your plate as you took a seat next to him, his gaze scanning all of the generous portions you served yourself. “I’m not entirely knowledgeable on how much a god can eat, but make sure not to overstuff yourself. I can’t imagine it’d be good for your stomach.”

“I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises!”

And after stuffing yourself full of Xiangling’s cooking, it felt like a happy mistake in the end.

- - - - -

The party was going well so far; after the performance and initial serving of food, it was nice to see everyone mingling together and having fun. You scanned the area, taking in the groups that the characters formed amongst themselves, before refocusing your attention back on what you were doing: being busy at the “Winter Weather Device” Cloud Retainer built for the occasion.

And snow was actually a lot more pleasant when you weren’t buried under a heavy blanket of it.

“Shenhe, if I ever get into a snowball fight, I’m recruiting you to my team.”

The woman stared at you, seriously. “I would slay all your foes if need be, Your Grace.”

“Aha… snowball fights aren’t that serious, but thanks.”

You continued to pat down the snow you held into a snowball, the cold flakes a higher-quality than what nature ever made. The water used to make them apparently came from the adepti abodes, which, of course, was why the snow was so soft and powdery, like from a fairytale.

“I’m…” Yanfei stood by you, also crafting a snowball in her hands — which shook slightly from the cold steeping into her fingers — at your insistence. “...not sure I see the appeal in this.”

“The appeal is the glory of victory over your foes.”

“...right.”

Yanfei left the snowball she had made in the growing pile by your feet. You watched the younger partygoers play in the snow, stomping around and making vaguely snowman-like structures out of the cold flakes, before you felt someone approach you from behind, and turned to face them.

“Yelan! Hey! I didn’t notice you were here, are you having fun?”

Yelan let out a soft exhale, the warm light of the nearby stone lanterns illuminating her face from below as she faintly smiled. “It’s hard not to have a good time when you’re around, Your Grace.”

“D’aw, you’re just flattering me. I know how you work.”

You snorted as Yelan chuckled at your comment, before a thought struck you.

“Oh! I just realized I haven’t seen you around for a while! Where’ve you been this entire time?”

“Places.”

“Doing what?”

“Things.”

You stared at Yelan for a few seconds, her gaze amused as she stared back.

“...okay, then. Keep your secrets.”

You played with the snowball in your hands, rolling it back and forth between your palms as you briefly pondered all of the mysterious — and probably legally-dubious — things Yelan must have been up to this past week and a half, before you were snapped out of your thoughts by the sight of a wrapped box being held in front of your face. The hand holding it was Yelan’s, the shiny bow adorning the tiny rectangular container bending in the gentle evening breeze that was blowing by.

The box was pushed into one of your hands, the snowball now held in the other.

“Here. For you. I hear giving gifts is a custom for this little holiday we’re celebrating, hm?”

“Where’d you hear about… no, wait, never mind. I’m not gonna get an answer, am I?”

“You know me too well, Your Grace.” Yelan chuckled again, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she smiled at you. “If you were anyone else, that’d be a problem. But if it’s you, it’s just fine.”

You had never felt so lucky to be yourself as you did right now.

“I suppose I’ll let you rejoin the rest of the party now. Everyone worked so very hard to put this whole thing together just for you, I shouldn’t keep you from rewarding them with your attention.”

Yelan turned away from you, glancing over her shoulder as she walked away.

“I’ll be watching. May we meet again soon, Your Grace.”

- - - - -

Despite all of the fun you were having, the party sadly couldn’t go on forever.

The daylight soon blended into night, and with it, the guests started to take their leave. The first to go were the youngest of the characters — Qiqi left with Baizhu and Changsheng, Yaoyao with Cloud Retainer, Madame Ping and most of the other adepti. Yaoyao had even started to doze off at that point, requiring her to be carried by Cloud Retainer. Shenhe also left with the latter group.

Then went the next youngest: Xingqiu, Chongyun, Xiangling, Hu Tao, Yun Jin, Gaming… before they left, you made sure to give both Guoba and Man Chai another extra tight hug for the road.

Those who had work the next day soon followed. Yanfei, Keqing, and Ganyu all gave you polite goodbyes as they left, and Yelan vanished into the dark as easily as she had appeared to you.

Beidou left after saying goodbye to you and Ningguang, who simply headed inside of the Jade Chamber after bidding you a good night. Kazhua left with the pirate caption, his farewell another one of his poems that you were unfortunately too tired to think of one of your own in response to.

The harbor seemed to glow below the Jade Chamber as the city’s lanterns lit up in the absence of the sun. You fiddled with the gift from Yelan in your hands, still wrapped up and unopened.

“Your Grace, would I be correct in saying the surprise party was a success?”

You brought your gaze back up from Liyue Harbor and turned to see Zhongli approaching to stand beside you, his arms politely folded behind his back and his eyes focused on your face.

You smiled, giving him a nod. “Oh, yeah! It was so much fun! And I’m definitely going to figure out how to thank everyone for it, especially Yaoyao and Qiqi since they planned the whole thing!”

His lips turned up into a soft smile. “I’m very pleased to hear you say that, Your Grace.”

Your gaze shifted from the man standing next to you to the roof of the Jade Chamber, and you waved at Xiao to come join you and Zhongli. The legendary boy-adeptus had kept his distance from most others during the party, opting to watch from the rooftops as an onlooker rather than an active participant in it, though you were just happy that he was near all the festive energy.

With a sudden burst of green and black wisps, Xiao was at your side.

You looked at the adeptus with an enthused smile. “Sooo… did you enjoy yourself, Xiao?”

“...as long as the party made you happy, then I’m happy, Your Grace.”

You clutched a hand over your heart. “Xiao… you’re too sweet.”

This felt like the perfect ending to a perfect celebration, and as you looked between the adeptus and the Archon, you only felt all warm and fuzzy — it was almost too much for you. Almost.

“Hey, I don’t feel like sleeping just yet. Let’s go for a walk around the harbor together.”

“We’d be honored to, Your Grace.”

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