#i am cheering for the canes but i have a soft spot in my heart for one (1) rat man

[seedlessmuffins]

"redbulls before the fourth overtime, pizza flowing, it's actually kind of funny" -matthew tkachuk after scoring the game winner with 0:12 seconds left of 4OT

[happyandticklish]

A Matter Of Spirits

Notes: Does anyone actually want a Dorian Gray fic? Probably not. Am I going to write one anyway? Abso-fucking-lutely. I do have a fic request that I’m editing right now, so that’s also coming soon. Based off the book, not any of the film adaptations. 

Summary: When Dorian refuses to sit for a painting, Basil turns to Henry for assistance. 

“Dorian. Please.”

The other continued to slump in his seat, staring off into the distance in that irritating, brooding fashion of his. This had been going on for a while now, no matter how Basil attempted to persuade the other. Dorian was in a mood which meant he would not sit for the painter and he most certainly wouldn’t smile. Normally, Basil was patient with Dorian’s swinging fancies, leading him to great heights of euphoria one moment and the depths of despair in the next, but today was different.

The painting wasn’t for himself this time. A client had offered a great price for it, a sum that left the struggling artist dazzled. Normally, he didn’t sell portraits of Dorian—they were his secret joy, a beauty he could admire without the prying eyes of others. But that much could not be ignored, and so Basil had decided to make an exception, just this once.

Unfortunately, it appeared his plans were going to be ruined if Dorian continued to act like this. Basil’s brow pinched in annoyance and exhaustion as Dorian fell back against the couch, one arm thrown over his face, the very picture of agony.

“It’s just one painting,” Basil tried again, trying to force his voice to take on an appealing tone. “One painting and then you can go about your tantrum.”

“It isn’t a tantrum,” came Dorian’s muffled protest. “How can you expect me to pose when I’m miserable?”

“I hardly think the situation calls for one to be miserable—”

“My favorite pair!” Dorian interrupted, sitting up suddenly to glare stricken at the other. He pointed to his pants, which now spotted a rather unfortunate blue ink splot. “Ruined. It’ll probably never come out, and even if it does, there will be a stain, and then where will I be? How am I to go on with stained trousers?”

Basil resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was true that the paint might not come out, but Dorian was not one who could be accused of having a low supply of nice apparel. He had dozens of other pairs, all fairly similar in style. There was no need to get so worked up about the accident. Nevertheless, Basil knew if he put it like that his painting would never come about.

“What’s all this about?”

The pair turned to find Lord Henry strolling idly into the room, one hand poised elegantly on his cane. He was always elegant, no matter what the setting. Basil would have been impressed by it if he didn’t find it so irritating. Henry glanced between Dorian, distraught on the couch, Basil, standing next to an empty canvas, and finally at the empty chair in the middle of the room where Dorian would under normal circumstances be posing. He raised an eyebrow.

“Henry,” Basil said, a note of relief to his voice at the presence of his friend. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I let myself in. Dorian, whatever is the matter? You look as though poor old Basil here has just made an attempt on your life.”

Dorian sniffed, tilting his chin up petulantly. “He has, at least to me. Look at this!” He pointed to the stain, as though that itself should have been cause for outrage from the other.

Henry blinked, before nodding slowly. “I see. He has… stained your pants? To what end?”

“It was an accident,” Basil explained, crossing his arms. “I was showing Dorian some of the new colors I had got brought in recently, and a bit got on him, that’s all. He’s overreacting.”

“Ruined,” Dorian repeated with a lack of anything else to say in his defense.

Henry balanced his cane on the edge of the sofa, coming to take a seat beside the other. He examined the stain carefully, making sure to glance at it from all angles. Basil and Dorian watched him, both waiting to hear whose side he would take. Finally, he leaned back, clapping his hands together definitively. “Why, Dorian, you have nothing to worry about! It’s only a little stain, and hardly noticeable at that. A quick wash ought to fix it.”

Dorian fixed him with a suspicious glance, but it was difficult to doubt Henry, and finally a bit of hope came into his eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Henry assured him. “Now, come, you’re being ridiculous. Sit for Basil. He only wants a portrait, nothing more. Surely you can accomplish that?”

Dorian looked as though he were on the edge of giving in, but finally he turned his face aside stubbornly. “I can’t. The mood is ruined. I can’t pose when my spirits are so low. I’ll look dreadful.”

Basil threw his hands up in frustration, ready to give up altogether and try again tomorrow, though he knew it would heavily delay the process. Henry, however, was not deterred. “A matter of low spirits, you say?”

There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and all at once Basil realized his plan, recognizing the look from years of being around the other. Dorian had not yet experienced Henry’s fullproof method for cheering one up, and so he simply frowned in puzzlement, reluctantly glancing back at the other.

“What is it?” he asked apprehensively. “Why do you look like that? Henry, what—hey!”

Dorian’s next words were overtaken by a surprised giggle as Henry’s hands found their way suddenly to his sides. He squirmed back against the couch, weakly attempting to bat the other away. “W-Wahait, noho!”

“I’m simply raising your spirits, nothing more,” Henry replied calmly, expertly maneuvering against the clothing protecting the other and finding each and every spot that had Dorian desperate to get away. “After all, you’re laughing, aren’t you?”

Dorian was, quite a lot at that, and the sound was breathtaking as Basil listened and watched the scene unfold. His laughter had always been uproarious, a carefree, wild sound that brought to mind the joy of childhood; Dorian had never been one to hide away his emotions, always feeling and existing in his truest self. But now that same laughter took on a more frantic cadence, breaking off into fits of giggles and every once in a while a sudden shriek when Henry hit a good spot. It was unreasonably endearing, and Basil felt a blush fighting its way onto his features. He knew he should look away or help—though whether he was to help Dorian or Henry he couldn’t say—but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight.

Dorian was a mess of limbs, his outfit thoroughly rumpled by this point, something that he would have cared about if he wasn’t so focused on the way Henry’s fingers skillfully climbed his ribs. “P-Plehehehease, Ihihihi’ll dihihie!”

“I’m certain you shall be fine, there’s no need for dramatics,” Henry dismissed, working around Dorian’s attempts to shove him off. “Besides, to die of laughter would be a worthy death in my opinion.”

Basil scoffed at the vague poetry, stepping in and placing a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Don’t you think he’s had enough?”

“That is up to Dorian himself,” Henry replied, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous delight.  “Well? What do you say, my friend? Are you significantly cheered up yet?”

In truth, Dorian could already feel his poor mood dissipating, but despite this he continued to persist. “Of course not,” he huffed, grabbing at Henry’s wrists finally and holding them firmly. “This is ridiculous, I am not still a child. I have no time for such silly behavior.”

“And yet you were certainly acting like one earlier,” Basil commented without thinking, and Dorian shot him a betrayed look.

“Basil is right,” Henry agreed. “Which is why he’ll be assisting me. I can’t have you squirming around so much, you’ll only get in the way. Basil, his arms please.”

Basil snapped his head up, having not expected to get brought into this. “Well, I don’t think—”

“Basil is far too soft-hearted for this torture,” Dorian interrupted before he could finish. “He is not so bold or ruthless as you.”

The comment worked better than anything Henry could have said to convince him, and in the next moment Basil was on the couch behind him, slipping his hands under the other’s arms and securing them in a tight grip. “Henry, proceed.”

Dorian’s eyes went wide as he realized his predicament, and he surged against the hold to no avail. “Wait, hold on, there’s no need—ahAHA!”

His words broke off into wild cackling as Henry continued his attack, wiggling his fingers with quick, deft gestures under his arms. “Feeling anymore cooperative now?” Henry teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Thihihihis ihihis cruhuhuel!” Dorian protested, his actions growing more desperate as the vulnerable spot was continuously pursued. Yet no matter how he thrashed, there was no escape. “Bahahahasil!”

“Yes Dorian?” Basil asked, growing more confident in his actions as he listened to the sweet giggles, and the delighted expression that Dorian was doing a poor job at hiding. “Going to me for help will do you no good, not after all you’ve put me through this afternoon. I’m afraid you’re simply going to have to face the consequences of your actions.”

“Mehehehean!” Dorian kicked his legs out uselessly, throwing his head back into Basil’s chest. He jerked suddenly when Henry’s fingers began to travel, pinching up and down his ribs. His laughter pitched several octaves, and his hands flapped about, attempting to grab hold of anything that would help him out. “AhAHAHA, HEHEHENRY!”

“Dorian, please, calm yourself,” Henry said, shaking his head. “You are causing quite the ruckus, what if the neighbors hear?”

Dorian could hardly reply, too lost in his own laughter. Each tweak or prod of his ribs had him spasming, his layers doing little to protect him. The spot appeared to be unbearably ticklish, worse even than the cruel scribbling under his arms. Dorian was no stranger to his own sensitivity, a fact which had been brought to his attention in stark clarity when he was a child, but he hadn’t been tickled in many years and he was unprepared for just how intense it could be.

Finally, he managed to form enough coherency to spew a stream of giggly protests. “I-Ihihihihi dehehehehemand thahahahat—ehehehe, aha—thahahahat yohohou stahahahap ahahahahat ohohonce! Ihihihi wihihihill—ah! Heh, nahaha, nohoho! I wihihihill gehehehet m-my, mihihi—stahahap ihihihit, nahahahat thehehere!”

“You’re not making any sense, I’m afraid,” Henry informed him sympathetically. “Really, I have spoken with you about the benefits of proper articulation before, there’s no need to stammer so. Basil, can you understand a word of what he’s saying?”

“I can’t say I do,” Basil replied, and suddenly his own fingers had been added into the mix, scribbling over the edges of his armpits from where he held him tight. Dorian shrieked, unprepared for the double assault, and burst into a round of cursing as his laughter advanced to an even more frantic pitch. “I suppose we’ll just have to keep encouraging him until he remembers the proper form of speech.”

Red had begun to creep across Dorian’s features as well, a testament to the teasing that was slowly working to unravel with along with the tickling. With that, his stubbornness finally caved. “Ohohohokay, OHOHohohohokay, I-I’ll sihihihihit!”

Henry and Basil exchanged a pleased glance and collectively sat back, releasing Dorian to wrap his arms around himself in a giggly pile between them. After he had regained his breath somewhat, Dorian managed a half-hearted glare in Henry’s direction. “That was wholly uncalled for.”

“Are your spirits not cheered?” Henry pointed out. “You cannot convince me you weren’t enjoying yourself. You’ve never been one to give in so easily to something you weren’t willing to engage in.”

Dorian blushed, sitting up straight and adjusting his jacket with a cough. “That is ridiculous, Henry, utterly ridiculous. I did nothing of the sort. And to think I thought you were a man of intelligence.”

Henry raised a wry brow, shrugging his shoulders. “If that is what you must tell yourself, I will let you believe it for now. Don’t fool yourself into thinking I won’t discover the truth on a later occasion, however.”

Dorian’s stomach flipped not unpleasantly at the idea, but he merely scoffed, springing from the sofa and bounding over to the sitting chair. “Well, if I’m going to sit, I’m going to need a change of outfit at once. Look at me, I look positively tousled, like I’ve been out in a storm!”

Basil watched him as he continued to waltz about the room, making endless comments about dress and hair, but with a far more agreeable air than before. “Thank you,” he whispered gratefully to Lord Henry, who startled at the sound, tearing his gaze away from Dorian where it had previously been taken.

“Yes, of course old friend, always happy to help. Although you might be careful he doesn’t discover your weakness as well.”

He reached over and tweaked Basil’s side playfully. Basil yelped, having not expected the sudden attack, and batted away his hand quickly. He flushed, glaring at him. “Quiet down with that, will you? For your information, that is not information that will be getting out anytime soon.”

“Basil! I can hardly paint this portrait by myself now can I?”

Basil’s attention immediately snapped back to the other, and he rose to his feet, offering an obliging smile as he made his way over. “No, you cannot. You would make a miserable artist.”

The two continued to talk and bicker contentedly as Basil helped him fix his hair which had gotten tangled in the earlier tussle. Henry watched them with a knowing smile, certain they would figure themselves out. Perhaps not that day, but eventually. After all, they must do it in their own time.

Henry slipped out quietly while they talked, allowing them to have the day to themselves. 

Maybe one day, he thought with a gentle smile. 

[artaefact]

grinchly, yours.

—wordcount: 15k+

—genre: angst, fluff, bookshop owner!reader, florist!hoseok, bookshop au, christmas au, flower shop au, s2l au

—pairing: jung hoseok x f reader

—rating: pg-15

—warnings: awkward moments, a cemetery scene, mention loss of loved ones, a soft!hobi

—summary: Christmas time is around the corner, everyone is celebrating to their heart’s content, but not you. No, you despise Christmas and the joy it brings. That is, until a friendly florist decides to pay your bookstore a visit.

author’s note: i’ve been meaning to write a character with the grinch’s personality and this story has been revolving around my head for some time !! happy reading everyone 💖 

prompt: “carolling” for @btsholidaybingo event & “winter market date” for @kdiarynet winter hearts event !!

© artaefact 2020. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is NOT permitted.

You nearly lose it when a snowflake lands on your face — specifically, your eye — for the third time now as you pad along the asphalt road. Releasing a breath, you calm yourself. This should be a regular occurrence for you. Still, you can’t help but scowl at the sight of fake candy canes and decorated fir trees near the streets and shops, and well, basically everywhere.

Once you near your bookshop, another annoyed sigh escapes your lips when you find a group of people singing right in front of the door again. Honestly, your patience is running thin as you have once told them to not sing in front of your bookstore.

Cursing under your breath, you try not to meet anyone’s eye and opt to quickly enter your shop. However, one of the members notices you and waves at you. You recognise him as Jimin — a local baker who likes to stop by your bookstore to look for recipe books.

After responding with a brief nod at him, you unlock your door and rush inside.

It’s not even Christmas yet, so why are these people singing Christmas carols early in the morning already? The sun has barely even risen up!

A relieved sigh escapes your lips when you can’t hear the choir anymore, at least muffled by the door of your bookstore. Moving towards the cashier table, you place your messenger bag underneath it before getting to work.

Carrying boxes of books back and forth from the supply room is the daily norm for you. You find comfort hidden between the shelves while you stack the newly-delivered books neatly into their allocated place. Many would say that it’s a lonely job, especially since you refuse to hire anyone to work in your store. But you don’t. You seldom feel that way.

The soft music from the jukebox is the only thing that keeps the bookshop from falling into complete silence as you work on reshelving and rearranging the books. That is until the bell on top of the front door rings.

“Welcome!” You place the books on the wooden floor, standing up only to see Jimin peering on the aisle you’re in, smiling ear-to-ear.

Sighing internally, you ask, “What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to pop in and say hi.”

You sit back down on the wooden floor and continue to shelf the books. “Didn’t you do that before?”

“You didn’t say a word.” He moves closer and plops down beside you.

You merely shake your head, still focusing on your task. “How many times do I have to tell you not to let those choir people sing in front of my store?”

“Right,” Jimin answers sheepishly. “You see, we are still scouting for another area and—”

“Well then, find it quicker. Why don’t they just sing in front of your bakery?”

“It’s not exactly an ideal spot for singing…”

“And the front of my store is?”

“There’s not much public transport station here—”

You huff in annoyance. “If you don’t have anything else to do besides making excuses, I would appreciate it if you leave. As you can see—” Lifting one of the books in emphasis, “—my hands are full.”

Despite your cold words, Jimin dismisses it quickly. “Well, I’m looking for a book about plants.”

“Botany?” Your brows furrow. “Did baking go wrong?”

He snorts. “As if, but my friend is looking for one. He asked me if I could get one for him.”

“Is there a particular book he’s searching for?”

Jimin hands you a piece of paper.

“Oh, I have to place an order for this one,” you utter. “I’ll send you a text when it has arrived.”

Nodding, Jimin finally stands up and is ready to leave when you call him.

“Oh, and Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

“For the last time, take your fellow choir crew somewhere else to sing.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

The box lands on the cashier desk with a thump before you send a message to Jimin, a week later.

[ 2:05 PM ] You: your friend’s book is here

Placing your phone on the table, you peel off the wrapping tape and open the box. The printed white letters of Guide to Gardening contrast against the pine green background of the hardcover as tiny drawn flowers scatter across the edge of the cover.

You read the synopsis curiously, wondering how someone can find garden-work interesting when your phone dings — a text notification from Jimin lights up your phone screen.

[ 2:09 PM ] Jimin: Oh! I’ll tell my friend to pick up the book himself. He should be able to swing by today.

Not bothering to reply to him, you put away the book for safekeeping — leaving Jimin on read, as usual, and get back to check your supplies, making sure everything’s in stock.

An hour or two have passed until someone enters your bookstore. “Excuse me?”

Looking up from the papers, a new customer staring at you. “May I help you?” You ask, standing up from your seat.

“I ordered a book. And my friend, Jimin, told me it has arrived.”

“Oh!” You scramble through your paper-covered desk, reaching for the book. “Are you—” You check the name it was ordered under. “—Hoseok?”

He nods, dimples appearing on his cheeks.

“Here you go.” Handing the book to him. “Is this what you were looking for?”

The subtle smile on his face turns into a bright grin as soon as he reads the title. “It is.”

“Great,” you nod. “Do you still want to take a look around, or would that be all?”

Hoseok’s gaze lingers on you, a bit too long for your liking, but he shakes his head regardless. “This would be all for now.”

“That’ll be twenty-five dollars.”

While you print the receipt, he asks, “Are you a friend of Jimin’s?”

“Acquaintance,” you correct him, handing his receipt.

“I see. May I know your name at least?” He extends his hand.

Blinking at his question, your hand moves before you can think twice about taking his hand in yours. Ignoring the way your hand fits so well in his, you introduce yourself, “Y/N.”

And a bright, bright grin appears on his face, one that you swear can light up the whole bookshop. “Hope we’ll see each other again soon, Y/N. Just recently opened up my shop near the corner of the street.” Then he makes his way out of the store, steps faltering slightly before the entrance, giving the bookstore a once-over and walks out.

The next time you meet Hoseok is when he visits your store in passing. “Hey, Y/N!” He greets you as you place a stack of books on the cashier table from the delivery box earlier.

“Hi, Hoseok...” You do not know what to make of his cheerful demeanour.

“How’s your day?”

You furrow your brows in confusion. Is he seriously asking that for no apparent reason?

“Fine, I guess,” you answer nonetheless as you rub your palms against your jeans. “Just had to clear out the storage and rearrange some shelves.”

“Do you need any help?”

You shake your head. “I’m good. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Oh! I’m looking for a book about orchids,” Hoseok explains. “It’s so hard to grow them.”

“Give me a moment, I’ll check the supplies,” you mumble, moving and clicking your mouse to find what he is searching for. Hoseok moves to a nearby aisle, looking through random books while you move to the allocated aisle of the book he wants.

Hoseok is confused for a moment as his attention is set on the little post-its on the shelf. As he takes a closer look, he realises that these are your reviews of the books. He can’t help but chuckle at how enthusiastic your reviews sound.

It’s amusing how you are interested in The Grinch.

Plucking one of the books, he makes his way to you. You are so focused on the books as he stands beside you, then he pokes your shoulder and you jolt. “Oh my—”

Hoseok apologises sheepishly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

You clear your throat. “It’s fine. I tend to tune out my surroundings when I’m focused. And, uh, here—” You hold out the book to him. “—is this it?”

Hoseok nods, smiling as he takes the book and follows behind you to the cashier. As you type in the order, he asks, “Do you like this book?” Your movements falter at his sudden question, which he notices. “I saw some stickers you posted beneath the books that seem to be your favourites.”

Cheeks growing warm at his words, you stammer, “Well, I thought it would encourage people to buy and—”

He places one of the books that you recommended on top of the book he was looking for. “I’ll get this one too.”

“But… It’s a children’s book.” You gape.

“I’m not big on reading heavy novels, Y/N. So, I think this is a good start,” he shrugs. “Plus, you recommended five stars for this and your review—”

“Okay!” You cut him off, grasping the book. “I-I get what you mean, but are you sure? You don’t have to—”

“Am I not here as your customer?”

Sighing mentally, you proceed to scan the barcode. “That will be forty-seven dollars.”

Meetings with him are refreshing, as it is odd. Hoseok would come by your bookstore once in a while — once a week or even twice. At first, you thought something was up. Definitely, since he didn’t purchase books on every visit. But what throws you off is that he would come by to drop desserts or even just a quick ‘hi’ when he is busy that day.

You’re sceptical indeed. Was there a bet being made to befriend you? But he wouldn’t have treated you to those sugar-coated doughnuts or hot chocolate if he wants money.

Deep in your own thoughts, you walk along the usual route to your store; hands tucked inside your thick coat, even ignoring the snow that’s covered your beanie.

You’re not used to this; someone just straight-up approaching you, or just enjoying being in your presence with no obligation to do so. Haven’t he heard of the rumours that surround you? In a small town where you live, he must have heard something.

Thoughts drifting back to reality, your eyes twitch as you find those carolling people in front of your store again. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you let out an annoyed sigh.

How many times should you tell them to scram? And where is Park Jimin?

You scan through the faces of the group, and he was nowhere to be found. Muttering a curse under your breath while ignoring the slight aching in your chest, you stomp towards them.

“Hello,” You plaster on a big fake smile, ceasing their singing at once. “I thought I had told one of your crew — Jimin — that you can’t sing in front of my store. Where is he, anyway?”

“He’s not joining us today,” one of the choir members answers, nonchalantly. “We didn’t know that this is a private area. I thought you only own your part of the store.”

The other choir members glance nervously at each other; their reaction an obvious contrast with this chipper, unheeding chatterbox in front of you. Gritting your teeth, you force down the curse words that are on the tip of your tongue back before clearing your throat. “Well, now, you know.” You pin down that girl who opens her loose mouth with your sharp stare. “So, I would appreciate it if you’d leave and never sing in front of my store again.”

She is about to respond when her crewmembers stop her from saying anything further, which is fortunate for her. In minutes, they pack up and finally leave.

Rubbing your temples, you make a mental note to put a sign in front of your store that says no choirs allowed, or any Christmas activities at all. After changing the ‘close’ sign to ‘open’, you place your things on the cashier table. Looking at the old jukebox fondly, you trace the intricate, beautiful designs for a little while before you turn it on. Soft jazz music fills the air instantly, and your heart warms up at that.

Deciding to have a little reading time, you pick a book from your favourite section. However, you falter momentarily when you realise it’s the same book Hoseok bought last week from your post-it recommendation. Sighing, you place the book back and pick another.

Time flies so quickly when you immerse yourself in books. By the time you check your phone, it’s afternoon already. And then the quiet atmosphere shatters when the bell of your bookstore rings.

“Y/N!” His familiar cheerful voice startles you.

“Hoseok…” You’re back again.

“I’m grabbing a bite in Jimin’s bakery, would you like to join?”

“No, I’m—” Your stomach growls loudly as if on cue.

Hoseok laughs at that, “Your stomach says otherwise. C’mon! You shouldn’t stay cooped up in your shop the whole day.”

And you can’t bring yourself to reject his offer again.

“How long have you been running your bookstore?” Hoseok asks as you both make your way towards Jimin’s bakery.

“It’s been... Five years,” you answer hesitantly.

“Oh, that’s quite long! Have you always been interested in books?”

You nod. “Yes, I’ve loved reading since I was a child.”

You didn’t realise how much you had enjoyed conversing with Hoseok until you reached Jimin’s bakery.

That was quick, you thought, at the sight of the pastel pink store.

Stepping into the bakery, Hoseok calls out, “Kookie!”

“Hyung?” The familiar man called ‘Kookie’ greets him after serving a customer with their order.

You wreck your head for his name — you know this guy. Well, have seen him with Jimin most of the time but you didn’t bother to know his name. Or actually, you did, but you forgot.

The only ones you can come up with are “John Cook’ or ‘Jungkook’. It has to be either one of those or else you’d embarrass yourself further.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s nice for you to come by!”

Screw it.

“Nice to see you too, John.”

Kookie lets out a giggle. “You can call me ‘Jungkook’ instead of my last name.”

Then it clicks. Right— it’s Jeon Jungkook. Thank the heavens ‘John’, and ‘Jeon’ sounds similar.

You feign indifference. “Alright, Jungkook.”

“Jimin is out with his girlfriend for hot chocolate, he’ll be back soon.”

As soon as you and Hoseok take a seat, Jungkook hands you both the menu before dealing with other customers.

“So... Are you sure you’re new here?” You break the silence. “Looks to me that you seem to know everyone here already.”

Hoseok chuckles at that. “Not everyone. But Jimin, Jungkook, and I go way back.”

“Ah, I see...” Then you cast your stare to the menu once more. But your attention shifts to the glass door to see Jimin and his girlfriend laughing. Not long after you catch his gaze, however, the warmth dissipates almost instantly. He stalks towards your table at once.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin seethes, eyes boring into yours as you match them equally with your icy ones.

“Ah, Jimin,” Hoseok turns to look at him. “I was grabbing something to eat, and I invited Y/N along and—”

“Y/N is not welcome here,” Jimin seethes.

Hoseok’s eyes widen before it gradually hardens at your defence. “Since when?”

But Jimin’s eyes are on you once more. “Why did you drive the choir crew away again? What did they do to you? They managed to sing a few blocks away from your store!”

“That is bullshit.” You stand up and level his gaze. “They sang in front of my store again, still disturbing the peace in my shop. And I told you to take your choir crew somewhere far to sing.”

Jimin lets out a frustrated sigh. “That’s not what they—”

“Believe whoever you want,” you cut him off, mood darkening. “And since I am not welcome here, I’ll see myself out.” Without another word, you head out of the bakery. Clutching your coat tighter to your frame, the sound of your boots thumps along the cobblestone until another pair of rapid footsteps follow behind you.

“Y/N!” Hoseok calls out, grabbing your arm. “Hey… I—” He catches his breath. “I’m sorry, Jimin is an asshole to you—”

You shake your head. “No, that’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. I—”

“Hoseok.” You turn to him. “Why do you even bother to befriend me?”

His eyes widened at that before he splutters, “B-Because, why not?”

Taking a step closer to him, you consider asking him if there is a bet going on, but decide against it. “I’ll be fine. You go back to Jimin.”

Without another glance, you turn away once more, leaving him in the midst of the cold weather.

Autumn flies away too quickly, you bitterly thought. You find yourself missing the warm colours of the town, where the crunching sound of fallen leaves will always fill the silence when you go to work or go back home. Or, spring sounds good to you too — bright, vivid flowers loitering around as the warm sun kisses your skin.

Not this whole white fiasco. Your mood always dampens when you walk out of the house, only to find the usual bright morning still dark as it takes later for the sun to rise up.

‘Achoo—!’ You let out a sneeze, wrapping the thick blanket around your form tighter. The heater of the store is cranked up to the fullest, yet the winter cold still manages to get you.

Letting out an annoyed ‘tsk’, you continuously flip through the accounting records of your store, eyes scanning the numbers to make sure no mistakes are made. Unable to focus further, you sigh.

Maybe you should do other things before getting back to these numbers.

You let out another sneeze as you trudge to the storage room, huffing in annoyance while you sniffle. Taking out an opened empty box from the shelves, you pack children books into it when your doorbell rings.

“Please wait a moment!” You quickly shove the box to an empty corner before rushing out.

“Umm,” Hoseok stands awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “Hi…” He takes a few steps closer. “I’m sorry about yesterday—”

Posture stiffening, you cut him off, “It’s not your fault, nor it was Jimin’s fault. It was my own mistake.”

He tries to argue. “No, it’s—”

“Hoseok, it’s alright.” You reassure him, plastering on a tight smile. “Really.”

“Ah, that’s… Well, these are for you.” He extends a bouquet of orchids.

You stare at him. “W-Why…?”

“I thought it would brighten up your bookstore,” he rambles. “Uh, unless you don’t want it? It’s really fine—”

You take the bouquet from his hold, your smile turning genuine on your lips. “Thank you.”

He grins at that. “Well, I’ve got to go back to the shop. Maybe we can go out for coffee or even lunch whenever you’re free?”

When you nod in response, Hoseok’s expression lights up further. With your numbers exchanged, he waves you goodbye and exits your store. It’s quiet once again, and you merely stand there, still staring at the bright purple hues of the orchids.

Perhaps, it’s still ol’ winter outside, but it feels as though spring blooms within the walls of your bookshop now.

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

Hoseok is in a good mood; he whistles some random pop songs as he makes his way back to his shop. “I’m back!” he chirps, scrubbing his snow-covered boots against the ‘welcome’ rug.

“I was beginning to think you have lost your way,” Jungkook comments, eyes focusing at the bouquet in front of him, wrapping it up. “The next customer won’t be here until three and, wait—” He looks around frantically at the scattered flowers on the counter. “Hyung! Where are the orchids?!”

“Huh?” Hoseok feigns innocence. “I thought we had them. You’ve cut their stems right?”

“Yes, but—”

It’s kinda funny to see the usual composed Jungkook, now, panicking. Little did he know, Hoseok had taken the last of the orchids to make a bouquet for you.

“Hyung! We need orchids! The colours don’t match! And—”

Hoseok snorts. “Use the hydrangeas. They fit with whatever bouquet you’re wrapping.”

Jungkook makes a face. “It’s not going to be the same as how I pictured it, Hyung. It has a different meaning too!” However, Hoseok has gone into the changing room to change into his usual working attire. From outside, Jungkook grumbles to himself, “I don’t deserve this treatment. I helped Jimin, and now Hobi hyung too. And for what exactly?”

“So, you won’t stay cooped up in your room until New Years.” Hoseok comments, tying his apron then rolling the sleeve of his shirt till it reaches just before his elbows.

“Okay, but ‘fess up, Hyung—” Jungkook still looks unamused. “What did you do to the orchids? I know you’ve worked hard growing them so you won’t give away those flowers easily.”

“Huh,” Hoseok feigns innocence, grabbing a set of flowers to wrap. “Really? Maybe I did give it away to someone pretty, who knows.” Beautiful, in fact.

“Who?” Then Jungkook’s face turns dumbfounded as he seems to realise something. “Wait, don’t tell me it’s Y/N.”

“Why not Y/N?” Hoseok raises a brow, sparing the younger one a questioning glance.

Jungkook groans. “No, hyung, don’t you know she’s like… Unapproachable? Like even Jimin’s charm does not affect her at all. In fact, she made him angry the other day!

Hoseok mindlessly nods at Jungkook’s rambles. “Yeah, yeah…”

It goes quiet for a moment before Jungkook asks, “So… Did she throw away the flowers at once and kick you out of—”

The image of your bright eyes and soft smile engraves itself into his mind as he works on the bouquet at hand.

“No.” A smile appears on Hoseok’s face. “She loves it actually.” All that time he spent and the hard work of growing those orchids really does pay off.

“What did you say to her? I don’t think she’s the type to accept an apology gift that easily.” Jungkook tilts his head slightly, still questioning.

True. At first, he wanted to give it as an apology gift. However, at your insistence that it wasn’t anyone’s fault but your own, he thought of another reason — to brighten up your cozy bookshop with the vibrant colours of the orchids.

“Well, I thought of other reasons,” Hoseok answers vaguely, finishing the arrangement. And boy, did his heart soar when you accepted his gift afterwards.

“It’s so hard to believe…” Jungkook mumbles, focusing on his own task at hand.

Hoseok sighs. “She’s not what you guys seem to paint her to be. At least, not with me. Does anyone even try to approach her in the first place?”

Jungkook nods. “Jimin hyung did. You know how he is.” Silence falls for a few moments until Jungkook mutters, “I think she’s always grumpy when it’s Christmas season.”

“Why?”

Jungkook answers with a mere shrug. “No one knows. We just avoid her during Christmas.”

With furrowed brows, Hoseok clicks his tongue in disapproval of how people treated you. There must be a reason why you are acting this way. You weren’t a complete grouch with him, and your smile earlier proves that. If it takes hundreds of orchids to make you smile like that again — even when others say you are a grouch and your presence is unpleasant — he would gladly grow them all over again.

Sipping the gingerbread latte, you let out a satisfied hum at the burst of sweet taste on your tongue from the warm beverage. Definitely perfect for cold weather as you sit near the window, mindlessly staring out at the falling snow and the buzzing people beneath.

Hoseok has agreed to meet in the cafe. You are too stubborn to admit that you actually enjoyed his company these past few weeks. But, as soon as he texted you to meet in this cafe, you barely thought twice before agreeing.

Speaking of the devil, he sits across from you with a grin on his face. You snap out of your thoughts when your gaze zeroes in on the bouquet in front of you.

Irises.

“It’s for you.”

Blinking with furrowed brows, your voice comes out unsure. “For me…? But why?”

He lets out a sheepish chuckle, “I just think it suits you. Like those orchids.”

At his words, your heart beats faster. “I… I don’t know what to say,” you admit, gaze dropping to the bright yellow flowers, arranged prettily and pleasing to the eye. “But… Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

“Do you know what irises mean?”

You shake your head, taking the bouquet reluctantly.

“Hope and friendship,” Hoseok beams then raises his own steaming cup of coffee to you. “So, here’s to our friendship!”

Chuckling lightly, you lift your own cup.

“Right, I read the book,” Hoseok starts, earning a raised brow from you. “It’s a whole lot to digest even when it’s merely a children’s book. What makes you like it so much?”

You shrug, eyes averting from his briefly. “I just admire how the Grinch put so much effort to ‘steal’—” You quote with your fingers. “—Christmas. I mean he’s an entertaining character to read about.”

Hoseok tilts his head. “What makes him so?”

“He sticks to his plans and goes through with it. I admire his perseverance despite the hardships he has been through. And I feel the same way about Christmas as he does.”

“Do you not like Christmas?”

“Nope. Don’t like this season at all.”

“May I ask why?”

“It’s…” Your eyes are downcast, gaze on your steaming cup of coffee. “It’s a bit overrated, in my personal opinion. This season seems to force people to be happy.”

“Huh…” Hoseok sips his coffee. “I never really thought about it in that way. But I can understand. Is there anything else that makes the book so special?” Curiosity swimming in his eyes. “You mentioned in your review that it’s comforting, but how so?”

Just how on earth can this man be so observant?

You purse your lips, pondering. “Well, it’s comforting to see how the Grinch manages to have a change of—” You falter before shaking your head. “He’s just a great character.”

Hoseok nods, agreeing with you.

Then you change the subject, asking him how he got into gardening and decided to open his flower shop. Conversation flows so easily between the two of you that time flies so quickly.

When you step out of the cafe building with Hoseok, you couldn’t stop smiling as you hold on to the bouquet he gifted in hand. You walk back together, just enjoying each other’s presence. That is until you come across the carolling choir who takes notice of you, or actually, of Hoseok.

“Hobi!” One of them calls out, breaking from the group. Her puppy-like excitement exudes out of her in waves as she draws closer. And then you recognise her as the chipper chatterbox whom you never bother to learn the name of.

Hoseok greets her, “It’s good to see you.”

Then she glances at you, more specifically the bouquet of irises in your hands. “You both went on a date?”

You snort, earning a surprised glance from Hoseok and the girl. “We just got coffee, and Hoseok is nice enough to bring me these lovely flowers as a gift. But, I don’t think it’s any of your business, right?” Lifting a brow, you spare her a questioning stare — recognising that familiar face — as she fails to come up with an answer. “And shouldn’t you get back to your singing activities spreading the Christmas spirit in this public area?” Sarcasm dripping your tone.

Her gaze narrows at you as a flash of recognition crosses her. “Aren’t you the one who sent us away from our first location?”

You nod blatantly. “You were singing in front of my shop. You were disturbing.”

“That was so rude—”

“I did warn you and your group before,” You quip. “Or would you rather I call the police next time?”

Hoseok gapes at your exchange with Chatterbox seemingly at a loss. Lucky for you — well, Chatterbox actually — the tense conversation ceases as another choir member approaches you, this time a lovely-looking elder lady. “Oh, Y/N!”

You blink, expecting her to recognise Hoseok instead since the boy is a social butterfly and probably know half of the townspeople already. “Y-You know me?” Her delicate features are somewhat familiar.

“Well, of course, I do! I volunteer in the or—”

And it clicks. “Oh!” You cut her off loudly. “Oh, nice to meet you!” Hoping the pleading look you send her can stop her from blurting other things besides pleasantries. Fortunately, she gets the message as she smiles knowingly at you before glancing at Hoseok who is utterly quiet as Chatterbox talks his ear off while he mindlessly nods.

“I should get back to my store,” you explain.

The lady smiles warmly, reducing her voice to a whisper, “Hope you come to visit us again this year.”

“I won’t miss it,” you reply with a smile of your own.

Her eyes light up at that. “And Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Have a good day, Miriam.”

And when you finally turn your attention to Hoseok, he’s already looking at you mouthing, You want to go?

You give him a brief nod. He smiles, bidding Chatterbox goodbye. But what nearly sends your heart into overdrive is that he strides to you and grabs your hand as if it’s the only natural thing to do.

“Slow down!” You huff as Hoseok turns briefly to give you a cheeky smile.

“I thought you couldn’t wait to get out of there,” he teases, steps slowing down. Your hand goes limp, but instead of letting go of your hand, Hoseok interlaces his fingers with yours.

“I couldn’t wait to get out of there myself,” Hoseok comments. “I thought my ears were going to fall off.”

Letting out a chuckle, you tease, “I thought you were enjoying her company.”

Hoseok shakes his head. “She was mean to you. I don’t like that.”

At his words, you stumble on your steps. If it isn’t for his fast reflexes, you would be face-planting to the ground. “Ah, t-thank you.”

He chuckles, “No problem.”

And you curse your own heart for beating faster at his smile.

“She’s not bad, Jimin.”

“Yeah, right.” Jimin huffs, wiping the table aggressively. “Until she decides to piss you off all the time.”

“What did she do to you?”

“Don’t even get me started.” Jimin clicks his tongue in annoyance. “She literally said to take the choir crew away from her store, and Ellie—”

“Ellie…?” Confusion is written all over Hoseok’s face.

“The girl who likes you,” Jimin sighs.

“Who???”

Jimin makes a face. “For someone who flirts easily, you’re awfully dense to someone else’s feelings.”

Hoseok lets out an unamused snort. “I don’t flirt—”

“You gave Y/N flowers,” Jimin gives him a pointed look.

“How did—” Hoseok comes to a realisation. “—right, Jungkook.” he mumbles before he explains, “It was supposed to be an apology gift—”

“And then yesterday you empty your supply of iris flowers too to give her for no apparent reason—”

“The kid should really learn to shut his mouth.” Hoseok groans, his cheek heating in embarrassment.

“—if that isn’t called flirting—”

“Jimin, you flirt with everyone too.”

“That’s different, hyung. I charm people.”

Hoseok sighs. “We’re going off track here.”

“Okay, so I had told the choir members to sing a few blocks away from her store. But, she drove them away again!” Jimin slaps the table with the cloth.

Hoseok scrunches his eyebrows. “What do you mean a few blocks away? Y/N said she found them in front of the bookstore again.”

“That’s not what Ellie told me.”

“I still don’t know who Ellie is, but I think there’s a whole misunderstanding here.”

“No, hyung. There is no clear proof—”

“Did you ask the other choir members?” Hoseok asks before sighing. “I mean, shouldn’t there at least be a few other witnesses that can confirm where exactly they were singing?”

“The entire choir said so.”

“Did they actually tell you that? Or did only Ellie tell you that and you assumed it was the whole choir crew’s answer?”

Jimin purses his lips.

“Y/N is not the type to lie, Jimin. It’s not fair to her if you only consider one person’s point of view. And I saw how unhappy Y/N was that day. Don’t you think you should’ve confirmed it with other people first before jumping to conclusions?” Hoseok lets out another disgruntled sigh.

Jimin goes silent, seemingly pondering at Hoseok’s words.

“And I invited her here—” Hoseok points at the ground, indicating the bakery. “—that afternoon, since she likes your sugar doughnuts. And other things you bake. Thought it might cheer her up, but look how it went.” He raises his arms in exasperation.

“She tried it? She never even stepped into the bakery until she came along that time with you!”

“Well…”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ flashback ]

“___, I’ll take more of these home today!” Hoseok lifts up his hand that’s holding the powdered doughnut.

Jimin’s girlfriend nods. “Anything else?”

“Oh! Your caramel cookies too, please.”

She nods again. “Coming right up.”

A few minutes later, Hoseok steps out of the bakery with a paper bag in hand. His nose is buried in his scarlet scarf, and he hums a soft tune while padding through the snow-covered sidewalk. As he gets closer to your dimly-lighted bookstore, his glove-covered hands start to grow clammy while his heart beats a tad faster.

“Y/N~” He calls out after the bell of the doorstep rings.

You scramble up to your feet from your slouching position behind the cashier register, wide-eyed. “H-Hoseok? What are you—” Your words falter when he lifts up the paper bag in his hold, grinning at your confused state.

“I brought some sweets.” He stops right in front of you, placing down the bag before opening it. “So… I got some powdered doughnuts…” He takes it out. “I hope you like them.”

“Well, yes. But—”

He puts the paper-wrapped doughnut on your hand. “Go ahead, try it.”

“I…”

“Or do you want me to feed you?” Hoseok teases, raising up the other doughnut towards your mouth. “Then here, ah—”

You take a step back, avoiding his reach before taking a bite out of your doughnut. He laughs at your pout while you chew, patiently waiting until you swallow it. “So...?”

Nodding slowly, you observe the bitten doughnut for a few moments then snap your gaze at him. “Thank you. This is really good.” You take another bite of the doughnut, fighting back the instinct to smile.

“Great! Now, try the caramel cookies!”

“Wait, but I—”

Hoseok plucks the doughnut from your hold, replacing it with a caramel cookie and urges you to try it and you comply.

“Where did you get this?” Eyes full of wonder as you stare at the cookie.

“Jimin’s bakery.”

“What? No way.”

Hoseok tilts his head in curiosity. “You’ve never tried his baked goods before? Even after months the bakery has opened?”

You shake your head. “Never had the chance. I assumed it’s nothing special. But now…”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ present time ]

“She said what?” Jimin gapes, not sure if he heard what Hoseok said was right.

Hoseok repeats, “She likes your sugar doughnuts and caramel cookies. She said they were ‘excellent delicacies’ when she tried them.” More precisely, you said, I suppose despite his absurd personality, he still makes excellent delicacies. But Hoseok knows better than to say that.

Jimin is downright speechless at your compliment.

“Anyways,” Hoseok clears his throat. “As I was saying, I frequently visit her, and on that day she wasn’t happy at all, Jimin. So, I didn’t visit her that morning to let her cool off and visit her during the afternoon.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ flashback ]

Hoseok gazes up from his phone when the streetlight turns green. Shoving the device into his coat’s pocket, he crosses the street. From the corner of his eye, your bookstore comes to his view, and a smile appears on his face. As he draws nearer, his steps grow lighter. That is until he peeks in from the window and notices a deep frown on your face. He falters, weighing his own thoughts on whether or not to approach you at this moment. And he decides against it and plans to visit you in the afternoon instead to let you cool off from, perhaps, an argument.

And off he goes, still passing by your store; still purposefully slowing down his steps to see you through the stained glass window for longer, to see if you’re okay. He’s surprised at the sight of you tracing your jukebox slowly, gazing at it fondly. It must have meant so much to you, he assumes. Smiling softly, Hoseok continues down the pathway to his flower shop.

It’s nearly midday when a familiar face from Jimin’s choir group visits him. She waves at him. “Hobi!”

“Welc—”

“So, glad to see you again!” The girl squeals as she reaches him at the counter.

“Hi…”

“How are you?”

“Good and uh, shouldn’t you be singing with your choir members?”

Her face falls slightly at his question before she scoffs, “It’s cancelled because someone was so rude. She just told us to scram. Like who does that? We’re spreading the Christmas spirit! Everyone should be happy, especially at this time of year!”

And Hoseok instantly has an inkling of who this someone is. “I don’t think we have the right to judge someone. Everyone has their own problems, after all.”

She seems genuinely shocked by Hoseok’s words. But Hoseok didn’t bother waiting for her response as he said, “If you aren’t planning to buy anything, I would appreciate it if you leave. There are other customers here. And I would listen to Y/N if I were you.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ present time ]

“I’m sorry.”

You raise a brow at the unexpected guest who is standing right in front of you, eyeing him briefly before shifting your attention to the man beside him.

“What are you both doing here?” You ask. “More specifically, what are you doing here?” Your gaze snaps back to Jimin, who is huffing in annoyance with his arms crossed against his chest — looking like he was just scolded by, you presume, the grinning man beside him. So you ask, “Hoseok, what is this?”

“I talked some sense into him,” he replies, elbowing Jimin not-so-subtly.

“I am here to apologise, Y/N. For the way I reacted in the bakery—”

Your stare narrows. “I thought we’re past that. And I told you it was my fault.”

“Would you please let me finish?” Jimin asks in a surprisingly polite manner. You assume he’s trying his best not to get frustrated further with you since, well, you always have that irritating presence during this time of the year and have the knack to run his patience thin. “I also want to apologise for assuming the worst of you.”

Now that catches you off-guard. Your silence spurs him on.

“I contacted the choir members and told them to not sing in front of your store. And I told them to sing at least a few blocks away. I should have confirmed their location with you instead of blindly trusting the people I barely interact with outside of choir activities—”

Not like we interact much either, you thought but hold back your tongue.

“—and it was my mistake for doing that. I only recently found out that they were really in front of your store—” He glances Hoseok, unamused. “—Hyung had contacted the choir people and had them confirm that they were singing in front of your store. Which is why—”

The sudden burst of your door opening startles the three of you.

“You brought her here?” Your expression clearly shows disdain at the sight of Chatterbox strutting in like she owns the place. And you wish nothing but to kick her out at this moment because she’s like an impending doom that’s about to befall your bookstore.

“No, we didn’t—” Hoseok looks flustered.

“I’m here to spread the Christmas spirit to Y/N!” Chatterbox claims with a few drinks in her hand. “Since she seems to hate our singing so much, I thought a few drinks will ease her up for Christmas!”

“Did she follow us?” Hoseok hisses to Jimin who looks just as flustered.

“I thought she should apologise to Y/N too.”

“Clearly, she has the wrong idea about this meeting,” Hoseok groans. However, just before Jimin can respond, a crash cuts him off.

It feels as if time is slowing down and your heart drops when she trips over one of the antique rugs and spills on…

“No!” You lurch forward — figure blocked by the counter you’re standing behind — towards the jukebox that’s drenched in eggnog, regarding it with widened eyes and trembling hands in the air.

“Oh, I’m sorry…” Chatterbox whispers, standing up straight on her feet. “I… I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

You clench your fists as you snap your head towards her, eyes blazing. “Get out.”

“But the drinks—”

“I said, get out!” Rarely do you ever raise your voice, but you are already trembling in anger as no one made a single move. You grab Chatterbox, pulling her along with such strength that she struggled against your iron-like grip.

“I said I was sorry!”

“Well, ‘sorry’ doesn’t cut it!” You seethe, shoving her out like a ragdoll. Jimin approaches you carefully and tries to appease you, but you shake your head. “Now, this is your fault.”

Hoseok looks downright devastated as he watches you. “Y/N…”

“Get out, leave me alone.”

There are no other words but warmth and pure joy that can describe the sight of children excitedly rushing towards you; they are all giggling and squealing.

“Uh, please don’t block the way,” you huff. Stopping momentarily, you lift a knee to support your hold on the heavy box briefly to prevent it from slipping down.

“Y/N,” Miriam greets you with a warm smile on her face. “So glad that you can make it.”

“Of course,” you reply, crouching to place the heavy box on the wooden floor of the living room. Taking off your gloves, you ask, “Where’s Helen?”

“She’s staying with her grandson for a couple of days; said something about a family Christmas reunion.”

“Ah…” You tear open the duct tape and take out the children’s books you packed a few weeks ago. “Well, then—”

“Y/N! Are you going to read us a Christmas story this time?” One of the children — Amy — asks with a big smile on her face.

“I shouldn’t… Maybe Helen can read to you once she’s back—” Words die on your throat at the expectant — hopeful — gazes of the children that have gathered in the warm living room. “Okay… Maybe one book won’t hurt—”

The children squeal happily.

“—so, you guys pick whichever book you want, and I’ll read it to you.” Then they rush to the opened cardboard box. You make yourself comfortable against the velvet cushions that’s spread on the rug-covered floor. While the children are busy discussing which book would be their pick, you fish out your phone from the pocket of your discarded coat only to realise that Helen had sent you a message that she won’t be in the orphanage tonight.

After replying to her with some reassurance — that you’d take over the story-telling position just for today — your fingers hover over Hoseok’s unread messages from yesterday night. Well, since the day you told him to get out of your bookstore in your fit of rage.

Hoseok constantly messaged you about many things — asking how you are doing, if you want to go out to get some coffee, or even just ramble about his day. You read all of them through the notifications from your phone — the ones that are not cut off by the message bubble — and your heart aches just a little more.

“This one!” Amy runs up to you, handing the book before taking the spot right next to you.

When you read the title, you falter. “Wait, are the others okay with this or are there any books you’d like me to read?” You look around at the children who are already in their respective seats surrounding you in a half-circle; they nod eagerly.

Letting out a sigh, you purse your lips for a brief moment. “Alright then—” You lift the book up; front cover facing the children. “How the Grinch Stole Christmas…”

Then you flip the book open and begin reading the story…

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

By the time you have finished reading the book, it’s nearly midnight; most of the children have fallen asleep with a content smile on their faces. You make it your mission to help Miriam tuck them into their beds since Helen is not here tonight.

“I really appreciate what you did today, Y/N.” Miriam follows you out of the building, stopping on the doorway.

“It’s not a problem, really.” You put on your gloves.

“But I really appreciate it, Y/N. And you know you will always be welcomed here.” Miriam reminds you.

You let out a sheepish chuckle. “Thanks, Miriam. Maybe I’ll come back and help around.”

She pulls you in for a hug. “The children love you. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled whenever you decide to come visit.”

After exchanging a few more words, you leave the orphanage and walk into the winter night. Gradually, your thoughts take you to Hoseok once more. You’d be lying if you don’t miss his presence and it has been just a few days since the incident. However, you just can’t find the right words to explain yourself, not when Christmas Eve is nearing.

Shaking your head, you keep your gaze low; eyes focusing on the snow-covered streets while the night grows darker with only street lanterns dimly lighting up the pathway. Just as you pass a particular house, loud laughter catches your attention, causing your legs to stop abruptly.

Through the bright window, you watch silently at what seems to be a Christmas gathering. You recognise some people who live in the same neighbourhood as you; even Jimin and Jungkook are there and… And Hoseok. Their smiles are so warm, and they seem to be enjoying themselves as they sit by the fireplace. The lively atmosphere inside the warm room is a definite contrast to the quietness of the night outside.

Letting out a sigh, you stop watching and continue on your way; once you arrive at your house, you mutter weakly, “I’m home…” After taking off your boots and gloves, you tug off your coat, brushing off the snow before you hang it on the coat hanger. Making your way towards the dark kitchen, you flip the light on and boil some water.

While waiting for it, your own mind seems to have an internal battle of its own. After that incident, you think it’s better to revert back to your old self who has no worries in being alone. However, after spending time with those children — it’s hard to admit, but you know you can’t be alone at this time of year. Spending time buried between pages of a book no longer distracts your thoughts, nor does sorting out books that are usually enough to distract you.

Opening the cabinet, you take out a box of your favourite tea, placing it on the counter. Looking back at the opened cabinet, you falter for a moment, staring at the unused mugs labelled ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’. With pursed lips, you quickly take your own mug and close the cabinet.

Rain drizzles down onto the asphalt path while the repeated sound of Hoseok’s footsteps crunching fills the empty air. He avoids the wet snow, treading carefully to not soak his boots further in this weather. Rain during winter is perhaps one of the things Hoseok considers unpleasant, but it reflects his current mood despite today being Christmas Eve.

Crossing the familiar street with an opened umbrella in hand, he lets out a sigh into the cold air, fog coming out with his exhale. Growing nearer to your dark bookstore, his heart grows heavier with each step. He stops momentarily and peeks inside your darkened bookstore, then his shoulders drop in disappointment.

Arriving at his store, he closes his umbrella before entering. Hoseok rubs the sole of his boots against the ‘welcome’ rug, shaking the umbrella to shed the remaining frozen droplets on the material.

Jungkook — already onto his task of assembling bouquets — spares a glance at the older man. “No luck?”

Releasing a heavy sigh, Hoseok mutters a ‘no’, passing by the counter gate and into the employee changing room.

It’s been more than a week since anyone has seen you. There has always been warm light filtering out through the window of your bookstore. However, now, your bookstore is completely dark as if life itself has been snuffed out of it.

Tugging off his thick coat, Hoseok places it on the hanger then takes the usual apron, tying it around his waist.

Hoseok wonders what had happened; the expression on your face was unlike anything he had ever seen… And, he really wants to reach out, but you have seemingly disappeared without a trace. As he’s rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, he’s still deep in thought, that is until Jungkook gasps rather loudly.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?”

But his movements stop completely when he hears a familiar voice — the voice he has been dying to hear again. In seconds, he barrels out of the room slamming the door albeit too loudly, startling Jungkook and…

“Y/N…” He stands in shock, still processing that you’re here.

“Hey,” you say nonchalantly, “I’d like a bouquet of chrysanthemums and dahlias, please.”

The three of you lapse into silence for a few moments until Jungkook mutters, “I’ll… Work on them... Yeah...” Jungkook snaps his finger while pursing his lips. “I’ll do just that…” Jungkook gets to work immediately, leaving you both near the main counter as he scuffles around the shop where the chrysanthemum and dahlias are.

Your gaze wanders along the neatly placed shelves on your side, and the various colourful flowers that’s set in silver-coloured buckets. It’s your first time visiting his store, and it is unexpected, alright. After your “disappearance”, you’re now here as if nothing has happened.

“I texted you…” Hoseok mumbles, earning your attention on him. “I called you too; visited your store a few times. What happened?”

“I needed time to get myself together,” you answer, fiddling with the button of your black coat.

“Why didn’t you call or at least let me know you’re okay? You had me really worried.”

“Because it’s none of your business.” You speak monotonously, but it still manages to strike at his heart.

Hoseok clenches his fists. “Right… My friend’s business is none of my concern.”

You exhale at that but still keep your mouth shut. Even as Jungkook timidly passes by you with the wrapped bouquet. Right after you pay for the flowers, you rush out.

Hoseok releases a breath that he did not even know he was holding. And he can feel his heart squeezing in pain.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

In silence, standing in front of the two tombstones — with an umbrella on one hand — you lay the bouquet between them. One shoulder is drenched from the rain, but you don't find it in yourself to care; not at this moment when all you can think about are your parents and that tragic day.

Countless of tears you have shed on the same day, each year; though it has been half a decade since then. But your heart still lays heavy in your chest, borderline suffocating in the middle of the quiet cemetery. And it feels as if it just happened recently.

Tearing your gaze away from the tombstone, you look up to the cloudy sky and blink rapidly — adamant about not letting any tears fall this year. With a deep breath, you look back down and leave.

The cold isn’t the worst when you walk back. Usually, you would even cry on the way home thinking about your parents. But this time, your mind persistently drifts to the disappointment on Hoseok’s face from earlier, unable to forget as if it is burned into your mind.

Biting your trembling lower lip, your steps grow faster to your bookstore. You promised Miriam you would come to visit the orphanage and bring more books for the children.

Arriving at the front door, you slot in the key and are about to unlock the door when you freeze momentarily, body seizing as your brows furrow. Taking a slow deep breath, you open the door and darkness greets you as usual. Closing the door behind you, the sound of your boots clicking on the wooden floor fills the air as you make a beeline towards the storage. Flicking the light on, your eyes search for the packed box on the corner, lifting it up in your arms once you find it before turning the lights off.

Walking between the shelves towards the front door, the jukebox appears in your sight. As everything that happened comes rushing back, you move towards it — dropping the box on the floor, nearly tripping over it — and your eyes looking around it frantically. “It should work now…” You mumble to yourself, at the now-cleaned jukebox and after letting it dry for days. You click the usual button, and wait…

And wait…

And…

“No…” Hands trembling, you make an attempt and press the button once more, but it just won’t turn on. “Please, please, please…” You begin to plead, tears welling up in your eyes and again you press the on button. This is the last resort, after all. You’ve called all the possible service stores that fix instruments and jukeboxes, but they all had the same response, ‘We’re sorry, this model is too old.’

“I’m sorry…” You whimper, knees giving out as a sob escapes your lips. “I’m sorry…”

The last piece of memory of your parents ceases. And your heart has never felt so cold on the night of Christmas Eve.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

When the fiftieth sigh escapes Hoseok’s lips, Jungkook spares him an empathetic glance as he does his task. “You should talk to her.”

“I don’t think she wants to.”

“Huh… That sounds so unlike you,” Jungkook muses as he cleans up the counter. “And you’ve been brooding all day.”

“I do not brood.”

“Tell that to the five customers the usual all-sunshine-and-rainbow florist has scared away today,” Jungkook remarks and stops cleaning to face Hoseok. “You should talk to her, Hyung. It hasn’t stopped you before. What changed?”

“I… I don’t...” Hoseok falters, searching for an answer. “She’s my friend, I…”

“You…?” Jungkook nods with a know-it-all look, urging the older one to continue.

Hoseok narrows his stare at the younger one. “You’re mocking me.”

“Nope,” Jungkook says, emphasising the ‘p’ with a pop. “I mean, you have always been forward with your feelings, and I really admire that. Unlike, you know, Jimin—” He pauses. “—please don’t tell him that, but yeah, what’s stopping you now?”

“I just—” Hoseok releases a deep sigh. “—I don’t want to lose her, not after everything. And she’s the type of person who really values her space. I can’t just barge in and demand to make everything alright. She’ll come around, and she’ll show it when she’s ready.”

Jungkook purses his lips, seemingly in deep thought.

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?” Hoseok asks in frustration.

“I think I know why…” Jungkook mutters.

“Why Y/N is acting the way she did?”

“No, not exactly,” Jungkook answers. “But on why she hates Jimin’s guts, ‘cuz you know, he tends to not read the situation he’s in and go all in without thinking of the consequences—”

Hoseok makes an attempt to cut Jungkook off. However, Jungkook raises his hand to stop Hoseok as he continues, “—but you—” Jungkook gives Hoseok a pointed look. “— you tend to read the situation you’re in and that’s a good thing. So, I suggest, instead of moping around, you can just go to her and see how she is doing? See if she wants to talk and if she does, you talk, and if not, then you can leave.”

Blinking, those words sink into Hoseok’s mind. “That’s actually… A great idea…”

“Yeah, wonder why no one has thought about it, but ends up scaring away customers instead,” Jungkook retorts and clears his throat at the glare Hoseok sends his way. “Which, you know, is okay since we’re humans, after all, right? We make mistakes. And the only thing we can do is try to make up for it.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes at that before chuckling. “You’re right, JK.”

“I know I— I mean, am I?”

Hoseok clicks his tongue. “Right, okay. So, I’ll go check on Y/N. And since it’s already closing hours—” He glances at the wall clock while untying his apron. “—you can just close up today.”

“What?”

But Hoseok ignores him and runs straight into the changing room to grab his coat. Once he goes out, he tosses the key to Jungkook. “I’m entrusting you with it.”

“Wait, but—”

“See you tomorrow!”

And Hoseok rushes out of his store, leaving a baffled Jungkook behind.

Hoseok scores a new record in the number of minutes it takes for him to reach your bookstore. However, his shoulder droops as the last bit of his hope vanishes at the sight of the dark place.

So, you had left. Or still not coming in.

He steps closer to the window, futilely peeking inside. After a few moments, he sighs in disappointment, putting his hands inside the pocket of his long plaid coat. Just as he’s about to leave, he stops — furrowing his brows when…

Is that a whimper?

Curiously, he goes near the door once more and makes an attempt to turn the knob and it opens. Eyes widening, he enters quickly into the darkness. And there he can finally (barely) see your hunched figure on the floor beside your antique jukebox, burying your face as your arms are wrapped around your knees… Crying?

“Y/N?” He calls out in hesitance, taking a few steps closer. You look at him and Hoseok braces for you to tell him to get out.

But instead, all you can mumble is his name. “Hoseok…”

“Hey…” Slowly, Hoseok crouches on one knee to meet your gaze. “I’m here.”

You merely stare at him, unmoving.

“You’re not alone anymore, Y/N,” he says, softly. “I’m here.”

Throat bobbing, more tears flow down across your cheeks. Hoseok opens his arms. “Come here.”

One moment you are still unmoving, and the next you wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. Hoseok leans back — both knees on the floor now — one hand gently pats your head while the other arm keeps you close to him.

“Let it all out. I’m here now,” He whispers, letting your face rest against the crook of his neck. “You’re not alone. Not anymore.”

[ flashback ]

It should have been a happy time for Hoseok as he gathers with all the people he cares about. Well, not all of them when you have not even read his texts. He scrolls through his phone mindlessly, staring at the texts he had sent over the past few days.

Hoseok [18/12]: Hey… how’re you feeling? I brought some sugar doughnuts today but you weren’t working today :( i hope everything’s well

Hoseok [20/12]: Y/N, i’m really sorry about what happened. Please let me know if you need anything

Hoseok [21/12]: you know i hate it when it rains so hard during the winter, i swear i came into my shop with icicles hanging on my face and jungkook had to say that i looked like that squirrel from ice age 😭 anyway, i met a tough customer today… I spent three hours waiting for them to choose which flowers they’d like for their bouquet. Even jungkook was close to combusting as well. it was torture 😢

Hoseok [22/12]: Hey, so we’re having a christmas celebration tomorrow, would you like to come? It’ll be fun!

Hoseok [23/12]: hey, Y/N! I was wondering if you’re going to make it to the celebration?

But that last text was hours ago and you had remained unresponsive. Hoseok sighs harshly and his emotions overwhelm him. And he lets himself think if you’re worth all the trouble and turmoil he’s facing.

“Something on your mind, dear?” His grandmother asks, placing one comforting hand on his knee. “I know that look on your face all too well. Your father used to have that look whenever he’s in deep thought. So, let me guess, is it a girl?”

Hoseok blinks a few times, flustered at his grandmother’s guess. “Yes, but well, no? Not really?”

“Who is it? I never heard any news about your love life. And now, your dear grandmother is absolutely curious,” she says, laughing with mirth lighting up her crinkled eyes.

Hoseok smiles softly at his grandmother before he relents and tells her all about you. At the mention of your name, he swears his grandmother just smiles a tad wider.

“It’s about time she finds someone,” she mutters to herself but Hoseok still hears it anyway.

“You know Y/N, Grandma?”

She nods. “Y/N used to live in the orphanage a few years ago… Poor thing.”

Hoseok gapes at that. “I… Never knew.” His heart twisting painfully in guilt and worry. “I’ve always assumed she had a really bad past since she never talks about it.”

“Definitely traumatising for someone so young to face heavy losses.” His grandma explains. “She dealt with most of it on her own, and… She may come across as cold, but she isn’t cruel, she’s just closed off,” Helen says softly. “But I guess you know that already?”

Hoseok nods.

“So, don’t give up on her. I think right now, she needs someone more than ever. She has had no one to lean on for so long.”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

[ present time ]

You stare silently at the crackling flames with a blanket wrapped around your frame and for some time your mind stays quiet after you have emptied out your pent-up emotions. Hoseok busies himself in the kitchen for a few minutes, and brings out two mugs of hot chocolate.

After your cry fest in the bookstore, Hoseok has taken you to his place for some hot chocolate he received from his grandmother, who had insisted that he should let you try it even when you know nothing of her. You rejected the offer at first, not wanting to bother him more after your breakdown. But Hoseok being Hoseok, from the time you have gotten to know him, you’ve learned that he can be very persuasive and persistent. And now, here you are, where he claims is his humble abode.

One thing for sure, this place screams Hoseok. It’s definitely more to the cozy side despite some unique furniture you spot decorating the place.

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking a mug from his extended hand as he takes a seat beside you on the couch.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better...” You take a sip of the hot chocolate, sweetness spreading across your tastebuds. And you resist the urge to hum in delight.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Hoseok shifts his gaze from the flames to you.

“Why did you help me?” You blurt out. “I mean, you didn’t have to… Like just now, and after the way I treated you, usually people would... Leave.”

Hoseok ponders for a moment. “Maybe it’s because they don’t know you like I do.”

“But we just met each other not too long ago.”

“And that’s enough for me to get to know you, at least some part of you. And as I’ve mentioned before, I would really like to get to know you even better.”

“I don’t think you really do…” You mumble, staring into the half-finished hot chocolate.

Hoseok snorts at that. “You’re someone who really values her space and if someone dares to cross that line you’ll give them hell for it.”

His facial expression softens further as he continues, “And you’re also someone who knows how to stand up for herself, not needing anyone to defend you. You don’t care what others think of you because you already know your own worth.”

You stare at him wide-eyed.

“Do you need me to continue? Because I still have more and—”

“Hoseok… I’m not— I don’t think I’m a nice person to be around...” you admit.

“That is the most ridiculous sentence I’ve ever heard in my entire life,” Hoseok scoffs. “So you’re telling me someone forced you to donate children books to the orphanage and read to those children?” He recalls the pictures his grandmother showed him the other day — of you reading to the children and having a pleasant time with them.

Blinking, you gape at him. “H-How did—”

“My grandma told me.” Hoseok is now looking at you, unamused. You shoot him a confused look as he explains further, “Helen is my grandmother. And I may not know what you have gone through, Y/N. But I told you I’m here and you don’t have to face things on your own now.”

You look away from his gaze, unable to keep looking into his intense stare any longer.

“Why do you hate Christmas?”

You stiffen at his question as it becomes silent between the two of you besides the crackling sound of flames. Hoseok sighs after a few moments, placing his hand on your arm briefly as if to say ‘it’s alright’ then standing up from the couch.

Just as he’s about to step into the kitchen, you blurt out, “I loathe Christmas.” And his steps falter, he turns slightly to look at you fiddling with the mug nervously. “I hate anything that has to do with Christmas because like I once told you, this season seems to force people to be happy. It doesn’t care whether or not you’re hurting inside, no consideration of how people truly feel in the heart. And I gradually find it pointless and fake.”

You shut your eyes tightly. “I… I lost my parents on Christmas Eve.” And the image of the car flipping upside down still vivid in your mind and you can hear the crash as clear. “I don’t deserve to feel happy, not when I should’ve gone with them at the incident. I-I should have gone with them. It's n-not fair that they’re gone and I’m here and alone and if I’m happy while they’re not here—” you blabber, hands shaking rapidly. “It’s not fair and now, I’ve failed them, I lost them— Their jukebox is broken and I can’t do anything about it,” you whimper. “Just like that day.”

“Y/N…” And you didn’t realise Hoseok is already in front of you, crouching. He lays his hand gently on yours after taking your mug, placing it on the coffee table. “Look at me,” he stares up into your eyes, gaze so warm and gentle that you might even break down again. It’s been a long time since someone looked at you that way. “You can’t take responsibility over the things that are out of your control.”

“And what you had gone through is unimaginable, but do you think you’ve punished yourself enough, even though it’s not your fault? You stopped letting yourself enjoy life itself and — correct me if I’m wrong — your parents wouldn’t want that for you,” Hoseok says. “Would they want you to be trapped in your past?”

You let his words sink in.

“And despite your jukebox not working anymore, that doesn’t mean that your parents are gone.” Hoseok grips your forearm, lifting your right hand to place it on top of your heart. “They live in you. You’re their daughter after all. The jukebox only serves as a memory of them, but surely, you have other memories of them.”

After all this time, you realised that’s what you needed to hear — you haven’t failed your parents, despite everything.

“And looking at how you’ve grown into this amazing woman that I have the privilege to get to know, I’m definitely sure your parents are proud of you.”

Face crumpling, your palm covers your eyes as another sob escapes your throat.

Sitting again next to you, Hoseok coos and gathers you in his arms. “Cry all you want, I’m here, love. I’m here…”

And you cried again, the hardest you’ve done in a long time.

Once you have calmed down, you murmur, “They used to dance around the house a lot...” Tear-stained cheek resting against his chest as you find yourself curled up on his lap. “Hanging socks and filling them with candies, claiming that they’re for the elves that visit late at night.”

Hoseok leans against the throw pillows, quietly listening as you tell stories of how your parents used to love the winter season. His warmth comforts you and your still-aching heart.

That night you fell asleep in his arms; the last bit of your emotions all used up, but your heart definitely feels lighter than the past years.

Knocking on the wooden door, you clear your throat, hearing scurrying footsteps before the door opens.

“Y/N!” Miriam exclaims. “I was so worried, you didn’t show up yesterday.”

“Sorry, something came up yesterday and I didn’t realise how late it was when I was done. But I bring another couple of books?” You lift up the box in your hands in emphasis.

Miriam lights up at that. “Well, come on in. The children will be so happy. They are excited to—”

“Oof—!” The loud thump behind you causes you to turn to see Hoseok huffing, catching his breath — one hand on his knee as he sits on the stairs — another box on top of the stoop. “I didn’t realise how much book you’ve packed, Y/N.”

Snorting, you place the box you’re holding on your left hip and extend your right hand to him, instinctively, to help him up. “C’mon, the children are inside and we should help to unpack the boxes first.” He takes your hand and pulls himself up, nearly stumbling and having his face close to yours.

As if his piercing gaze locks you in a trance, you stare back until he murmurs, “Well, someone is looking beautiful today.”

Spluttering, you let go of his hand, face burning. “Let’s go.”

Hoseok laughs at your embarrassment before he lifts up the box on the floor and makes his way inside, passing by Miriam who’s waiting by the door.

When you step inside, Miriam whispers, “Is he—?” Her tone lace with curiosity as a teasing smile appears on her lips.

“Uh, no, he’s not my boyfriend—” You say too quickly, flustered.

“Well, I meant to ask if he is Helen’s grandson, but I see.” Miriam fails to stifle a big smile now. “You two would look really good together.”

You curse yourself, walking faster as Miriam laughs behind you, closing the door. When you reach the living room, the children are already waiting and once you step into their view, they squeal happily.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Amy waves to you giddily. “Hobi says you brought more books for us!”

“H-Hobi…?” You blink. Snapping your gaze towards said man who is already looking at you intently and you avert your gaze once more to the grinning children. “Umm, yeah. I do.” You sit beside Hoseok, tearing the tape off the boxes you two brought in.

This time you brought in colouring books and other story books.

“Can Hobi read to us today?” One of the children asks.

You shift your gaze to his surprised face, a teasing smile appears on your face. “Yeah, Hobi, you should read to them today.”

Hoseok narrows his gaze at you before leaning close to whisper, “You should call me ‘Hobi’ from now on.” Then he turns to the children, smiling. “Alright, I’ll read for today. And which book do you want to read?”

“Which one is your favourite, Hobi?” Another kid — Ian — asks, curiously looking through the books.

“Well…” Hoseok scans through the titles of the stacked books. Your eyes widen at his pick. “This one!” He lifts up the How the Grinch Stole Christmas book.

“Wait— I read that to them already,” you try to stop the children’s interested looks.

“He can read it to us again!” Amy says giddily. “I think it’s a really nice story!”

“But there are other better books to read,” you offer. “Like…” You look through the books you brought. “This! The Night Before Christmas!” you read the title aloud.

“We can read that later,” Quin whines. “We want to hear Hobi read the book!”

Unbelievable. How the hell can these children choose him over you already?

As if he can read your mind, Hoseok shoots you a smug look and you pout like a petulant child. “Fine, I’m gonna go to the kitchen to help Miriam,” you huff, standing up and stomp out.

Hoseok watches your figure disappear into the kitchen before he says, “She’s so cute, isn’t she?”

Amy nods, grinning. “She’s grown up, but she’s still like us! That’s why playing with Y/N is so fun!”

“Right…” He gives a brief soft smile at Amy before he clears throat. “So let’s begin…”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“You’re not reading to the children?” Miriam asks when you appear in the kitchen.

“No, Hoseok’s handling that.” You take a fresh apron and tie it around your waist. “So… I’ll help out with the cookies.”

“Alright then,” Miriam chuckles, handing you the mixing bowl and mixer. “You can continue mixing the ingredients until everything’s smooth and I’ll take out the cookies I baked earlier.”

You flip the switch of the mixer on and continue to mix the ingredients. When the texture of the dough is smooth, you place the mixture into small scoops on the baking tray and that’s when you overheard Hoseok’s voice.

“What can you learn from the Grinch’s story?”

“Oh! Oh!” One of the kids exclaims. “That Christmas isn’t all about gifts!”

“That’s right,” Hoseok agrees. “And also, despite the Grinch being mean at first, even unkind, that doesn’t mean that they are truly that way at heart.”

Your movements falter at his words.

“There is always a reason behind their actions,” Hoseok points out. “So, it’s always best to learn about them first before assuming things.”

“You sound like you know the Grinch well.” Amy tilts her head in curiosity. “Do you happen to know the Grinch, Hobi?”

“Well, I don’t know the Grinch personally,” he muses. “But I do know someone who is very similar to him. Maybe that’s why I grew fond of the Grinch.”

Did Hoseok just compare you to the Grinch?

You scoff internally. Quickly, you finish scooping the rest of the cookie dough onto the tray before placing it in the oven after Miriam takes out the first batch of cookies and then retrieving a serving tray from one of the cabinets.

“Oh!” Amy raises her hand enthusiastically. “I know! I know!”

“Yes, Amy?”

“An act of kindness towards someone can change them!”

Hoseok blinks. “That… Is right.”

“That’s right.” You walk into the living room with glasses full of milk for the children. “An act of kindness can change a person’s life.” Placing the tray on the coffee table, you look at the children one by one. “So, it’s important to be kind to others.”

As if on cue, Miriam brought out the freshly-baked cookies. And the children flock around her to get a piece. She chastises them and sets the cookies on the table alongside the glasses of milk.

You spent the entire Christmas day in the orphanage, helping out and spending time with the children and Hoseok. You even meet Helen who never stops gushing once she finds the two of you visiting the orphanage.

When it’s already late at night, you and Hoseok bid the children farewell with a smile on your face and warmth in your heart. Hoseok walks you home afterwards, and silence falls between you — both comforting and soothing. Arriving in front of your doorsteps, you turn to him who is already staring at you with his bright eyes.

“Thank you for today, Hoseok—” You stop at his unamused look. “What?”

“I thought I told you to call me ‘Hobi’ from now on.” He steps closer to you. You step back. “Hearing you saying ‘Hoseok’ all the time makes it sound so formal between us.”

“Alright—” You place your hands on his chest in an attempt to push him away. “—Hobi, got it.”

“That’s better.” He chuckles at your antics before he steps back, stance growing uneasy. “And, uh, I forgot to tell you that there’s a winter market near the town hall. Would you like to come with me tomorrow?”

You nod without any hesitance.

“But Jimin will be there too.” And he adds quickly, “With his girlfriend. So, he won’t bother us and—”

“I’ll go.” You pause for a moment. “There’s something I need to resolve with him too.”

A gentle smile appears on Hoseok’s face at that. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod. “Definitely.”

He grins before tugging you in for a hug to which you reciprocate as if it’s second nature. And you both stay like that for a while until Hoseok mumbles suddenly, “I think I left something in your bookstore when we went to pick up the books earlier.”

You laugh. “Well then, I can go with—”

“Oh no, that's okay!” He says quickly. “I’ll go there myself, if you’re okay with lending me your key?”

“Oh, sure.” You take the keys out of your pocket. “Don’t lose it, yeah?” You chuckle, handing him the keys.

He nods. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

It’s another cold morning. Jungkook stifles a yawn as he walks along his usual route to Hoseok’s flower shop. Unable to contain his yawn any longer, he covers his face with his hand before he freezes — mid-yawn — when he sees you standing in front of the shop.

Quickly shutting his mouth, he calls out, “Y/N?”

Your gaze snaps to him from your phone. “Jungkook, hi!”

Uh-oh. Jungkook wonders if Hoseok has screwed up — since the man himself isn’t here — and now you’re seeking help from him to perhaps find ways to get rid of his hyung.

“Hey… May I ask what you’re doing here?” He checks his watch briefly. “So early…?”

“Hi, yeah, so I need a bouquet…” You fidget nervously.

“Oh?” Jungkook focuses on unlocking the glass door. “May I know what you’re looking for?”

“Hydrangeas and irises...”

He opens the door and motion for you to enter before following suit. “I’ll put my things in the back and I’ll wrap your bouquet.”

You mutter an ‘okay’ as he quickly changes into his uniform. Jungkook changes in record time as he has heard of stories of you being impatient, especially during the winter season. And well, someone has never intimidated him so much even though he is taller than you.

“Okay, so, hydrangeas and irises,” Jungkook mutters once he’s out of the changing room. He makes a quick dash towards the respective flower buckets and brings it back to the counter.

“Oh… They’re pretty,” you comment, eyeing the flowers curiously. But somehow Jungkook feels like you are scrutinizing him, ready to nitpick at him should you find any mistake or flaw.

“Why are your hands shaking?”

“Huh?”

“Your hands—” you point out. “—are shaking. Don’t you do this every day?”

“Not every day,” Jungkook mumbles, trying to stop his hands from shaking. “Anyways—” He clears his throat, changing the subject. “Who’s the special one?”

You blink. “Uh…”

Another uh-oh. This will not end well. Hyung is going to throw a major fit if he finds out about this.

“Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me.” Jungkook arranges the flower stems together. “No one is going to hear about this. I promise you. I know you really value your privacy.” You shoot him a confused look while he rambles. Not long after, he lifts up the bouquet. “Is... This okay?”

“Do you have yellow irises?”

“Uh, you want the yellow one?” He makes a face.

“What is it?”

“It’s going to be ugly,” he blurts out before he remembers who he's talking to. “I-I mean if you want them then I’ll search for the yellow—”

“No! That's okay!” Your hands flay to stop him from finding more irises. “It’s fine, really. I trust your opinion. You’re the expert.”

Jungkook blinks, clearly caught off-guard by your words. “Oh… I— Thank you.”

You nod, giving him a smile that is, dare he say, pretty.

“Okay,” He relaxes, bunny-smile appearing on his face. “I’ll finish this up quick.”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

Thirty minutes later, Jungkook finally manages to finish the bouquet and you thank him incessantly to which he responds with a flustered ‘No problem, just doing my job…’

Rushing out of the store, you check your phone for Hobi’s text which says that he’s on the way to the market and would meet you there. With your heart fluttering, you put your phone back into your pocket after sending him a ‘see u too, hobi :)’.

Arriving in the market twenty minutes later, you spot him standing near the entrance, waving at you enthusiastically.

“Hey,” he starts before gaze dropping on the bouquet you extend to him. “Wha—”

You mumble, “These are for you...”

His eyes grow wide. “I… Thank you.” He breathes out. “Wow, this is so unexpected. I don’t know what to say.”

You let out a sheepish chuckle.

“So…” He observes the bouquet. “You bought these flowers from my shop and you’re giving them to me.”

At his words, you blink as realisation dawns on you. “Uh, oh right I—” You stammer, flustered.

And Hoseok laughs at your cuteness. “Aww, that’s okay. I’m just joking. But, thank you. It’s really meaningful.”

“You know the meaning of the flowers?”

He grabs your hand, tugging you along into the market. “Of course. Hydrangeas means—”

“—grateful for being understood.”

“Thank you for being understanding.”

You both say simultaneously.

He stops, turning to you as his hand tightens on yours.

“I never got the chance to properly thank you.” You meet his gaze. “And, I really appreciate what you did for me these past few days — months — actually. I really can’t thank you enough.”

A soft smile decorates his lips. And before the both of you are able to say anything else, a familiar voice calls out Hoseok’s name. Turning your gaze to Jimin and his girlfriend, you greet them with a small ‘hello’ and a smile. As they walk closer, Jimin has a wary look on his face while his girlfriend responds to you with a smile of her own.

“Jimin…” You earn his attention. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

He nods as his girlfriend and Hoseok gives both of you space.

“Look. About the other day, I know you had no intention of bringing Chatterbox to my store to mess things up. I just want to apologise, you just wanted to set things right and I blamed you for her actions which you have no absolute control over.”

“No, Y/N. I could have explained better that we’re going to just apologise — no drinking and no singing—”

“And it’s in the past,” you cut him off. “And that’s okay. I’ll be okay.”

“I’m really sorry for not trusting you,” Jimin sighs. “I thought they had really sung a few blocks away, but you still did not like it and drove them away.”

You shake your head. “Even though I hate their carolling so much, I would have tolerated it if they were singing a few blocks away. But they still sang in front of my store and that angers me.”

“I wouldn’t take your words lightly, Y/N.”

“I sure hope not,” you snort, but then a grin appears on your face. A genuine smile appears on Jimin’s face in return as he extends his hand. And you shake it with yours, finally making up.

Returning to Hoseok’s side, you both wander around the market and you take in the festivity of it all.

“Oh! Look at those skewers!” Hoseok points out in excitement. “Wanna go try it?”

You nod at him. “I’ll go wherever you want to go. I’ve never been to any of the winter markets.”

“Alright,” he answers giddily, taking your arm to loop around his own. “Don’t want you to get lost now.” Chuckling at that, he leads you towards the first food stall of the day.

People are smiling, laughing, and enjoying themselves and for once it does not bring as much bitterness as before. It’s been quite some time since you are able to feel this way without holding back. But you’re certain you’ll move on, little by little.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“That was really fun,” you laugh, walking back to your bookstore with Hoseok still glued on your side. Despite not being in a crowded place any longer, he refuses to let go of you.

“I’m glad you had fun,” he muses. “We should do this more often.”

“Hanging out in markets, trying out various kinds of food together?”

“Well, if you consider it a date,” Hoseok says as you reach your store.

“Are you asking me out, Jung Hoseok?” You fish out the keys, unlocking the door.

“You remember my whole name?” He teases.

You shoot him a playful glare, stepping inside. “I mean, I have a sharp memory when it comes to relevant people in my—” You stop, gaping at the sudden colourful hues of orchids and dahlias decorating the broken jukebox. “I… What—”

Hoseok watches you stride towards the jukebox, observing the flowers intently with your glassy gaze while he takes off his gloves. At that moment, you seem like a child finding a surprise gift from Santa. And if Hoseok could, he would like to keep this moment into his memory forever.

When you finally turn to him, you ask, “D-Did you do this?”

He nods. “It’s fake though, since we don’t want them to wilt and—” You lunge forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as he nearly drops the bouquet you had given him earlier. Setting it down on the cashier counter, he wraps his arms around you as well in a tight hug with his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“It’s still beautiful, Hobi…” you murmur, breathing in his scent. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“I hope it would bring comfort to you, Y/N…”

Pulling away — still in his arms — you meet his gaze and blurt out, “Gosh, I swear I think I can kiss you right now.” The pair of you stiffen as heat rushes to your cheeks. “I-I mean—”

“That would be greatly appreciated,” he says, cupping your cheek. Leaning down to close the distance between you. You scan through his eyes for any signs of hesitance and when you find none, you close the remaining distance, meeting his lips with yours.

Everything happens so fast, but Hoseok is the only clarity at this moment as his hand on your waist moves up to cup your other cheek to deepen the kiss.

“Hobi...” You breathe out as he backs you against one of your shelves. “Hoseok—”

“Y/N...” he murmurs, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb as he looks into your eyes, gaze half-lidded. “Do you know what blue irises mean?”

You blink, still processing his question. “Hope… And faith?”

He chuckles, tucking your hair behind your ear. “It also means deep feelings when gifted to someone.”

Gaping, you stare up at his face.

“Is that how you feel? Towards me?”

You nod slowly.

He kisses your forehead softly and your eyes flutter shut. Interlacing your fingers together, he leans his forehead on yours while he whispers, “I feel the same way. I have feelings for you, Y/N.” He then mumbles, “I really, really like you, Y/N.”

“I really, really like you too, Hobi.” You meet his lips again. He smiles into the kiss.

When you both pull away to catch your breaths, you bury your face on the crook of his neck. “Thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance.”

And he kisses your temple, holding you tighter in his arms.

After punishing yourself over the loss of your parents, you had never given yourself a chance to move on. But you have known for quite some time that some part of you longed for a change. That is why you admire the Grinch who has a change of heart towards Christmas. Now with Hoseok by your side, you realise that you can move on as he encourages you to finally take a step forward. And for once you look hopefully to a happier future.

author’s note: honestly, i nearly turned this into a drabble series, but well, my writings are either too long or too short theres no in between so, oneshot it is sjdksjkfsd i hope you guys enjoyed it and as always, feedbacks are always appreciated !! if you’re interested in jimin’s story, you can find it here! thank you for reading 💕

[valhallanrose]

Canary in a Coal Mine

When Senga Canonach takes the mantle of Baroness, eleven-year-old Catriona receives the first true explanation of what it means to be the oldest of her cousins. 

Some notes: Catriona/Astoria uses both she and they pronouns (she throughout this particular fic), while Avery Maollosa is strictly they/them. Both are nonbinary. 

Edrine (she/they/he), who is only mentioned in this fic, is genderqueer (referred to with they/them pronouns here) and will make a full appearance in the next fic. 

4.3k. I am unsure how to best label this, but for now, Cautionary CW for feelings and imagery of entrapment as a result of particularly controlling parental behavior.  

Fic Title: Canary in a Coal Mine by The Crane Wives

One thousand, two hundred and twelve. 

It was the number of individual pieces in the stained glass window above the stairwell, the one depicting their ancestor, Cliamon - their blade raised high overhead in a moment of triumph in they and their compatriots claiming of the territory that would become home to the Canonach family and all the relatives in between. Cliamon had been a force to be reckoned with, and for all the reading they’d done in their lessons, Catriona adored the stories of such a massive figure they could find such a connection to. 

Catriona also thought Cliamon would laugh at the prospect of one of their descendants waiting like a loyal puppy at the top of the stairs for someone to fetch her. 

Ever since Astor’s death, their mother had grown fearful, the leash tightening so much that Catriona felt she could have choked. Even though his death had been somewhat anticipated, it had left a shadow on Senga Canonach, and left Catriona to deal with the fallout. 

Which was why she was left alone, at the top of the stairs, waiting for someone to pass by that could escort her down. It was her mother’s rule that she were not to walk up or down the stairs alone, so that someone might catch her if she slipped, and it was her mother’s rule that she could never leave the estate without an approved escort. The group of approved escorts was extraordinarily small, even though the majority of the family had volunteered, which left Catriona within the boundaries of Castle Kintyre and the gardens beyond the doors.

She was pulled out of her reverie with the familiar sound of what she knew was a silver-tipped cane on tile, and beamed down at her grandmother as she approached the bottom of the stairs. 

“There you are, granny! Mother said you were coming home for the ceremony, but I was getting worried! When did you get here?"

“Oh, only last night, dear, and I got in late. You were already asleep, or I’d have said hello.” Myrna smiled as she made her way up the steps, surmounting the last and leaning in to press a kiss to Catriona’s brow. “There was some unexpected flooding on the roads through Ardaleith, but they were kind enough to let me stay a few nights at Ironhearth. I actually came with Baronet Avery and the Lady Rima. Little Edrine isn’t feeling well, so they’re home with their governess, but they wanted me to say hello to you. So...hello from Edrine.”

“Oh, I’ll have to ask them to say hi for me, too. Maybe I can write Edie a letter. I’ve always liked them.” Catriona giggled as Myrna straightened her collar, laying it neatly against the soft navy wool of her sweater. 

“Well, they seem to like you, too. I think they’d love a letter. You can even borrow my signet ring for the seal.” Myrna reached down to carefully smooth out the hem of her sweater, then smiled, one hand drifting up to cradle Catriona’s cheek in her palm. “Don’t you look dashing? Did you have any trouble with the kilt?”

“A little, but I think I got it. I poked myself with the pin a few times, though. Does it look okay?”

Her grandmother indicated loosely with a finger, and when they turned obediently in a circle, they were met with a broad smile and a nod from the woman in question. 

“Perfect. Now all you need…” Myrna tutted softly as she dug in her dress pocket, withdrawing a hair comb and offering it to the child. “I’d love to see that pretty face of yours. May I?”

Eagerly, Catriona turned, tracing her fingertips over the comb’s arch - made up of two hands cradling a crowned heart - and, when Myrna was finished twisting her hair up and off the back of her neck, passed it back to her so she could slide the prongs neatly into her hair. 

“There we are. Fit to rub elbows with some nobility, I think.” Myrna offered her hand to the child, which she eagerly took, the other hand resting on the heavy wooden bannister out of habit. “Shall we be off, then? We might be the subject of a search party if your mother doesn’t see us in our seats.”

*     *     *     *     *

The late spring breeze gently ruffled a few loose strands of hair framing Catriona’s face, turning their face toward the carefully trimmed hedges and the beds of colorful blooms in the butterfly garden. Bluebells and thistle, honeysuckle and heather, lavender and primrose, all only a small fragment of the sprays that covered this portion of the estate. 

Sitting through any sort of formal ceremony was painful for a child her age, but what stuck out to her the most was when her mother - in her crisp, emerald suit with the Canonach tartan pinned at her shoulder - lowered herself to one knee, and then the other in the garden gazebo. It made her Aunt Malvina nearly tower over Senga, even though Aunt Malvina was already tall, and made Catriona’s mother seem so small when Malvina raised the diadem before them all and laid it upon Senga’s brow. 

After the ceremony, when the guests followed in Senga’s shadow with raucous cheers and excited chatter toward the banquet hall, Catriona found herself drawn to the gazebo as the garden became comparatively empty. At the center of it was a flat stone, one that they knew had been torn from the earth at Mistwatch, with two indentations right beside one another in the exact place her mother had knelt.

Catriona lowered herself to the ground and smoothed a hand over the stone, her fingers dipping into the imprints and smoothing over the echo of dozens of knees before her mother’s had fallen there. 

In the same spot as Barons and Baronesses and Baronets many times over, her mother had knelt upon the stone, a fragment of Rosinmoor, and accepted the crown from Malvina as if it had been made for her head. 

And in a way, it had, forged in the fires of Ardaleith and delivered by Clan Maollosa upon their arrival the night prior. No two leaders wore the an identical crown, rather, Malvina had given up her own and allowed it to be reforged as an acknowledgement of the new reign to begin. Cliamon had worn no crown - the tradition began with their son, Donacha Carleigh - but their claymore had been passed down through generations, and it had laid in their mother’s hands as she swore to lead Kintyre with the honor and grace of all who had come before her. 

She couldn’t help but wonder how many more would come after her mother. 

Footsteps drew them out of their daze and made them look up - very far up, they realized, until they smiled with recognition and waved at the person in question. 

“Hello, Baronet Maollosa. Am I in your way?”

They chuckled, smoothing a few stray hairs out of their face and lowering themself to sit on the steps of the gazebo. 

“No, you’re alright. And Avery is just fine, remember?” They gently nudged her with their elbow, then extended their hand, cupcake carefully balanced on the small porcelain plate. “Saved you a cupcake. Your grandmother said you might be out here, and they were going fast. You like salted caramel, don’t you?”

Catriona blinked once, twice, hesitantly looking between Avery’s gentle smile and the swirl of frosting adorning the cupcake itself. It looked so unassuming, but...when was the last time she’d eaten something without her mother telling her to wait until someone else could taste her food?

“Granny said it’s okay?” She said after a moment, and Avery nodded, dragging the tip of their pointer finger over their chest twice. 

“Cross my heart. I’d swear on my mother’s grave, but my mother is still alive, so that doesn’t hold very much weight in regard to a promise.”

Catriona couldn’t help but giggle, gingerly accepting the cupcake and starting to peel away the paper wrapping on the outside. “Thank you, Baronet - Avery. Thank you, Avery.”

They scooted forward slightly so they could set their feet on the steps and the plate in their lap, humming softly as they peeled away the paper and swept a finger through the frosting. Beside them, Avery leaned back on their hands, sighing softly as they looked up at the rare cloudless sky. 

“Edrine was all torn up about not coming today.” They mused, and Catriona nodded, making sure to swallow her bite before answering. 

“Granny said they weren’t feeling well, so it’s okay. I don’t mind waiting to see them. Maybe they can visit when they feel better? Granny said next time, she’ll show us how we can set up a fort in the library, so long as we put the books back where they belong if we take them.”

“I think Edrine would like that very much.” Avery ruffled Catriona’s hair lightly, a smile playing at their lips when she huffed and tried to smooth her bangs back out. 

There were a few long beats of pause as Avery watched Catriona, the way she carefully picked at her hair and adjusted it so it looked presentable again. 

They’d always liked her - she was quiet, certainly, but she wasn’t shy. Avery had realized long ago that she chose simply not to speak if she had nothing to say, and if she did, sometimes what came out of her mouth made them bite their hand so hard it left marks for trying not to laugh. 

Really, she’d won Avery over when eight year old Catriona called them a ‘lily-livered arse’ at the dinner table for taking the last sticky toffee pudding. It had made them laugh so hard their chest hurt, and in an attempt to form a truce with the child, offered to split it with her instead. 

It had been a fair offering, it seemed, as they’d never been called such a thing again. 

“You know, I’ve never thanked you before.” They mused, dropping back onto their elbows before lowering themself to lay on the floor of the gazebo. “Edrine doesn’t have any siblings, and their cousins are all quite younger than them, so making a friend their age means the world to them. They look up to you - bloody better than the Griogal boy, don’t tell anyone I said that - and I am happy that they won’t have to walk this path alone.”

Catriona paused, tilting her head as she used the back of her hand to wipe the frosting away from her mouth. “What do you mean?”

Avery raised a brow, fingers lacing together to rest over their abdomen where they lay. “In regard to the Barony. You and Edrine are in a unique position, being so close in age and both with clear claims to your respective titles. It can be hard to live that life, there’s no doubt about that, but thankfully your mother and I are young enough to give you both plenty of time to find your way before that.”

Catriona stopped mid bite of the treat they had been given, their stomach suddenly heavy and the taste soured in their mouth. 

Her mother had said something like that, once, a hand placed on either of her cheeks and her rings - one a heavy opal from Catriona’s stepfather, the other the Canonach family signet - cold against her skin. 

You’re in a special place, sweet Catriona. One day Kintyre will be at your feet, but you cannot forget the difficulty you will face when it happens. I only hope I can give you enough time to find the way you need to go.

She swallowed slowly, then set the cupcake aside, half finished and suddenly not as appetizing.

“What are you talking about?” 

There were a few beats of pause before Avery sat up straight, a concerned look clear on their face as they turned to look her in the eye. 

“Catriona...honey, has your mother not told you?” They asked gently, and slowly, she shook her head. Avery sighed heavily, raking a hand through their hair before letting their elbows fall to rest on their knees. Catriona shifted, resting her hands on one of Avery’s arms and giving them a pleading look that made them suck in a breath through their teeth. 

“I don’t know, kiddo, I don’t want to upset Senga if she wants to have that talk -”

“I deserve to know.” The child said firmly, even as their eyes began to prickle with tears, even as their lower lip noticeably began to quiver. “It’s my life, too. It’s not fair to keep things from me.”

A part of her knew any child in Rosinmoor would have been delighted to have a life at any of the seven estates, and Catriona wasn’t oblivious to the privilege she had been given. But even if it were gilded in gold, a cage was still a cage, and Castle Kintyre had become hers. She envied her cousins, free to go where they want and do what they please, envied the stories of Rosafearn and longed to explore on her own, but it hadn’t been a part of the hand she had been dealt. 

But maybe...maybe if they knew what frightened their mother so much, they could try and ease her worries, and get a little more freedom in turn. 

At her desperate yet hopeful expression, Avery let out a frustrated sigh, propping their chin in their hands. 

“Your mother should have absolutely told you by now, but that’s a grievance I’ll take up with her. You’re eleven, you’re long since capable of at least understanding.” They grumbled, clearly irate, then straightened, tone softening as they addressed her again. “Catty, what do you know about the line of succession?”

“I know everyone’s names. There were a lot of people before Auntie Malvina.”

“Everyone?”

Catriona nodded eagerly. “Yes, from the family tree book in the library. There’s Cliamon, of course, and then Donacha Carleigh, Muiri Lùtair, Juliet Lùtair, and then -”

“Okay, everyone, I believe you.” Avery held up a hand, an amused look on their face. “Stars, my uncle would have loved you. I couldn’t remember what I had for breakfast when I was your age, let alone the whole family tree. But what I meant was if you know how each leader is chosen?”

She had to pause at that, brows furrowing, trying to recall back to that book - they knew it well, the carefully bound leather and the tattered navy ribbon tucked between the pages - but couldn’t remember anything like that from what they’d read. It was always simply passed from family member to family member, but minimal explanation as to why. 

“I don’t know.” She said eventually, and that sinking feeling grew somewhat heavier. “I thought it was because she just got married, I guess. I know when Aunt Malvina became Baroness, she had just gotten married to Aunt Lorraine, and mother just got married to James, but now that I think about it, I don’t remember if that was the same for great grandma Sorcha…”

Avery nodded slowly, setting a reassuring hand on Catriona’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “It makes sense. Don’t stress, Catty, it’s a reasonable conclusion. Would you like me to explain how it works?”

When Catriona nodded, they continued, eyes fixed on a vibrantly colored butterfly bush just beyond where their feet rested. 

“I’m the oldest of three, so the Barony was going to pass to me no matter how many siblings I had. But my uncle, the last Baron, was older than my father, so he was the heir. And before him it was my grandmother, the Baroness, who was the oldest, and then her aunt, and so on and so forth. But the one thing they had in common was that they were each the oldest of their generation of the family, and thus, the crown passed to them.”

Catriona felt as if they could have been sick. 

“Because they were the oldest.” She echoed, oblivious to Avery’s nod, as the realization dawned on them. 

She was the oldest of all their cousins. Sachairi was the same age - eleven - but was a few months younger, born in November to Catriona’s September. That distinction was made clear to Catriona at a young age by their mother, but they never understood why, nor did they particularly care for that exact reason.

Their chest squeezed, and it felt as if they couldn’t breathe, thinking back to all the changes they had witnessed since her mother had been announced as the next Baroness. She had a handful of ladies in waiting, like Malvina, and advisors and guards and never being alone and never leaving the palace without an escort just in case, because it was ‘better to be safe than sorry”. 

Catriona hated that phrase. It was the reminder she received every time she complained about any of her mother’s rules, because mother only wanted her to be as safe as possible, and she would rather be overprotective than risk something happen to her because she wasn’t safe enough. 

But knowing this, now? They felt as if they had no chance of leaving the cage at all. When she was old enough to choose to leave, she’d have to stay, because being the oldest meant you were supposed to be the Baronet. 

“But I know everyone’s name. Malvina wasn’t the oldest, Uncle Ualan was. And Aunt Grace and Cameron are both older than mother, so maybe our family is different? Maybe it doesn’t have to be the oldest, maybe I don’t - I don’t -” Catriona’s chest heaved, and she let out something between a wail and a whimper, making Avery jump as she began to cry. “I don’t want this, Avery, I don’t…”

Quickly, Avery scooped them up, pulling them into a tight embrace and gently rubbing her back to try and soothe her as she sobbed into the starched white collar of their shirt. 

“Okay, okay...Catty, breathe, honey, I need you to breathe for me. Deep breath in, deep breath out, okay?” Look at me.”

Slowly, Catriona looked up, and Avery dug a kerchief from their pocket, offering it to her when she dragged the back of her hand across her cheek. 

“You like your words, right? I have one I want you to remember. Can you do that for me?”

When she nodded, Avery gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Abdicate. It means to renounce, or give something up. I want you to remember that word, because you have a long time before you need to make the choice, but I want you to know that you have the choice - but abdicate is the word we use for saying we don’t want the title. It means you give it up to the next person, and they get to decide what to do. Your uncle Ualan probably abdicated - you’d have to check, but if he's older, it’s what makes sense - and I know your Aunt Grace and Cameron did. And I’m sorry that I had to be the one to tell you this, but you’re right, it is your life, and you deserved to know. I know it’s a lot to take in, but I hope that knowing all the options means you can make the right decision later, when the time comes, because you deserve that much. Okay?” 

She sniffled quietly, rolling her lip between her teeth, the simple white kerchief twisting between her hands as Avery leaned back to get a better look at her face. 

“Do you want to go find your mother?”

“No.” Catriona murmured, their grip almost white knuckled on the kerchief in question. “I don’t want to ruin her day. She’ll get upset.”

The ‘with me’ was unspoken, but Avery seemed to notice, brow creasing as their gaze fell to her tight hands and gently laid a hand over hers to try and ease the tension there. 

“What about your grandmother? I saw Myrna just before I came out, she was speaking with the Lord Consort Griogal, so she shouldn’t be hard to find given he’s wearing something of a peacock blue today -”

“I don’t want to go inside.” Catriona blurted out. “I...I’m sorry, Baronet, I shouldn’t ask you to -”

“Avery.” They squeezed her hand again, this time a little more firmly - not harshly, or painfully, but enough to make her look them in the eye as they gave her a comforting smile. “You’re not asking the Baronet to do anything. You’re asking your friend’s parent for help, and that’s a perfectly acceptable thing to do. Would you like me to ask your grandmother to come outside?” 

The child nodded, and Avery stood up, ruffling her hair gently before they stepped down onto the path again. 

“Stay here, sweetheart, it’ll be easier for her to find you that way. Shouldn’t be long.”

As Avery began the trek back to the great hall, they couldn’t help but glance back, watching Catriona slump against the rails along the gazebo steps and picking up the pace to cross the stones a little quicker. 

*     *     *     *     *

Once Myrna had slipped from the great hall, Avery couldn’t help but drift toward the broad windows overlooking the garden, following the small shape of the older woman until she came within sight of the gazebo and Catriona’s even smaller form leapt up and raced to meet her halfway. Myrna scooped her up and carried her further into the garden - and Avery found themself staring at the point where they disappeared, away from the gazebo and away from the castle to somewhere unknown. They were only broken from their reverie when arms wrapped around their waist, and had it not been such a familiar 

“Hello, darling.” Rima murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of their shoulder and lacing her fingers together over Avery’s abdomen. “You were gone for a while. Did you get lost in the gardens?”

“No, I was talking to Senga’s bairn. She wants Edrine to visit when they feel better.”

“Well, hopefully it’s soon.” Rima hummed softly, pressing her cheek to Avery’s back and giving them a squeeze as the music in the hall shifted to a new melody. “We should probably stop in Rosafearn before we travel home. They’ve got the candies Edie likes in one of the shops down there, it might cheer them up about missing the party.”

When Avery didn’t reply, Rima frowned, slipping around their side and tucking herself under her partner’s arm to get a better look at their face. 

“What’s wrong, Ave? You have that...face.”

Avery chuckled, turning their head to kiss Rima’s temple. “What face? You like my face.”

“I do like your face, but this is the ‘I’m having a crisis and maybe my dear wife can help’ face, and I am the dear wife.” She smiled cheekily as she pinched their side, glancing out the window briefly to see if she could find what they were fixated on and coming up with nothing. “Spill, spouse.”

After a few beats of pause, Avery sighed, leaning their cheek against Rima’s forehead and closing their eyes. “How much do you know about Senga?”

“Not much, she’s a little more than simply closed off. New Baroness, obviously. If you want to know about her, you might have better luck with Myrna or her husband. Or maybe Malvina, if you’re wondering about politics.”

“Mm. I thought so. Perhaps we should invite Myrna to stay with us again. I have questions, but...I’m not sure I should ask Senga, or I might make something worse.”

Rima pulled back slightly, brows furrowing and earrings tinkling as she tilted her head in curiosity. The wordless question made her spouse nod, glancing around to make sure they had no eavesdroppers before they continued. 

“Earlier, when I was talking to Catty...I mentioned that Edrine looks up to them because they’re in the same position. And she had absolutely no idea what I meant, but essentially I explained that I meant because they were both heirs, and she just...completely panicked. I think if I’d gone much further than I did she’d have a full panic attack right there in the garden.”

“She had no idea? We started talking to Edrine about it when they were eight for just that reason, so they weren’t blindsided by it.”

“Not a clue. And the way she reacted when I asked if she wanted her mother, it just…” Avery blew out a frustrated sigh. “Something doesn’t feel right, Rima, and I know it’s not my business, but -”

“If it were Edrine, you’d want someone to look out for them, too. I know.” Rising up on her toes, Rima kissed Avery’s cheek. “Myrna already asked to travel back through Ardaleith with us. Let’s get through the night, and tomorrow, we’ll figure out the next step.”

“Alright…alright.” Avery was quiet for a few moments before they spoke again, warm smile on their face. “What would I do without you?”

“Suffer, more than likely.” Rima lifted a hand as if to inspect her nails, her wedding bands flashing in the low light. “Or at the very least be bored out of your mind at formal functions. Admit it, I’m the life of the party no matter where I go.”

With a laugh, Avery pulled Rima into a tight embrace, ignoring her playful protests and peppering the top of her head with kisses before they set their chin on her head. Their gaze eventually drifted out the window again to the spot where Myrna and Catriona had disappeared, thinking of that white-knuckled grip she had had on the kerchief. 

But she’d be okay. She had Myrna, now, and Avery couldn’t think of anyone the child would want more for comfort considering how close they were. 

Avery just hoped Catriona would be okay long enough for them to do something. 

[jiamour]

christmas in july

pairing: johnny x reader 

genre: fluff

word count: 2k

summary: domestic christmas dad johnny, that’s it, that’s the summary

a/n: i wrote this two years ago so its not great and its bullet point which is annoying but im posting it because i was thinking about domestic dad johnny

・。.❆.・。❅.・。❉ ・。.❆.・。❅.・。❉ . 。・

“suh soojin stop throwing snow at your brother we have to go!” you spoke loud and stern trying to get everyone in order because you were already late

you were going to the christmas concert in the park that started 10 minutes ago

you had everything perfectly planned out

or at least you did until your son, hyungsik, refused to leave the house without hot chocolate

or your daughter somehow breaking all of your thermoses the night before while having a tea party

or your fucking husband johnny who existed only to wreak havoc and start a seemingly endless snowball fight

you felt johnny’s arms wrap around your waist and his head rest on your shoulder

“come on yn they’re kids let them play” he hummed into your ear his tone smooth and sweet

“no” you shook him off and walked towards your kids clapping your hands as you spoke “we have to go i am not missing the concert for the fifth year in a row because of you guys”

finally they listened, swishing their mittens together to get rid of the snow and running off in front of you with their infinite supply of energy

you lived in a small town so the concert was about a 10 minute walk away if your family didn’t decide to take any detours

something of which was inevitable

you were stopped first to buy santa hats for the whole family which johnny said we’re absolutely essential

then obviously you needed candy canes

and of course marshmallows for the hot chocolate

but other than that it was a no distractions walk

you walked into the park and to your relief the band was still playing christmas music that you’ve already heard 1000 times that month

you and johnny sat on a hay bale set out as seats at the very back while your kids played in the snow right behind you

you listened intently as a loud rock version of deck the halls blasted from the speakers on the small stage

for about 3 minutes

and then the song ended

the lead singer took the mic off the stand and began to speak once the scattered applause from the frozen people in front of you ended

“that’s the end of our show thank you so much for coming. merry christmas everyone”

they left the stage

your head dropped into your hands

you had missed another year

at this point you don’t know why you kept trying

johnny softly moved your hands away from your face and lifted your chin so your eyes met his

“next year okay” he said in a soft mutter, his nose and cheeks tinted pink from the cold

you nodded with a sigh and went to get up and walk all the way back home

before you could move johnny grabbed the ends of your scarfs and pulled you into him

he kissed you softly trying to cheer you up

and of course it was working

even though it was happening while you were sitting on itchy cold hay and groups of loud people were leaving around you

it was nice

or at least it was until your daughter chucked a snowball at the both of you

when you turned to look at her she was glaring a hand on her hips “there’s children around, y’know! no one wants to see that!”

ah the homemade cock blocks strike again

johnny leaned down and rolled up a snowball with his bare hands tossing it back at your daughter

“this means war soojin” he said in a over expressive triumphant voice making your daughter laugh and begin to stock pile snow balls into her pockets so she could have quick ammo

johnny got up from the hay bale and ran towards your son getting an “alliance” as he called it before picking him up on his shoulders handing him snowballs so he could throw at both you and soojin

one badly aimed snowball by johnny went flying past you and hit an old lady in the distance who glared back in surprise

when her eyes met his he ran.

child on his shoulders and all

“sorry” you waved to her hearing an angry mutter in response

your head fell into you hands again

once again your childish husband embarrassed you in front of the whole town

・。.❆.・。❅.・。❉ ・。.❆.・。❅.・。❉ . 。・

it was 9pm when you got off work and driving home in the snow was a pain

it was almost pitch black when you pulled up to your house, you sighed as you got out of your car hating the extreme cold

you hit your boots against the edge of the door to get the snow off before opening the door and entering your warm cozy house

while you were gone johnny and the kids had decorated it

which is why it looked a little bit of a mess

but you still loved it

shivering from the chill of the cold you shrugged of your jacket and took off your boots

quiet christmas music played in the front room where you assumed johnny was still decorating

a box sat on the stairs filled with decoration so you decided to help

you were about half way through the box when you heard johnny’s angelic voice begin to sing

outshining the song on the radio

“oh holy night, the stars are brightly shining”

his voice made your heart skip a beat

it was so peaceful and beautiful that you didn’t want to interrupt

you continued decorating swaying to the music as you went along

“fall on your knees, oh hear the angels voices. o night divine, o night when christ was born”

how did you get so lucky

eventually his voice brought you closer to him wanting to hear more

he was hanging the last of the decorations on the tree not hearing you come in

quietly you walked over and hugged him from behind, arms around his waist and cheek against his back

he jumped a little but relaxed into your touch

to your dismay his singing stopped leaving only the quiet radio

“hey baby” he hummed turning around so he could hug you back and rest his head on top of yours

“keep singing” your voice was slightly muffled from the sweater on his chest “you’re going to make me a christian”

he laughed and paused for a second listening to the song before singing again

“chains shall he break for the slave is our brother and in his name all oppression shall cease” he sung beautifully swaying both of you slowly back and forth

“fall on your knees, oh hear the angel voices o night divine, o night when christ was born o night divine, o night, o night divine” the calm aura and his honey smooth voice made your eyes droop and his arms tighten around you pulling you even closer

he kissed the top of your head before singing again until the song ended

“i love you a lot” you hummed into his chest and you felt his heart speed up as well as his small loving chuckle

“i love you too”

・。.❆.・。❅.・。❉ ・。.❆.・。❅.・。❉ . 。・

johnny took a sip of coffee adjusting his over sized and useless glasses as if they actually helped him see (he claimed they made him look like an intellectual) as he looked through the flyers

he shifted the flyer over to you pointing to a robot at the top “don’t you think hyungsik would love that”

“johnny we got all their gifts, we still need to get something for your parents and we’re already over budget” you yawned out rubbing your tired eyes and taking a sip of your own coffee to try to wake you more

“but yn~” he whined, even though he was a grown adult and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes “okay, i don’t appreciate the sass”

“you’re such a child” you scolded playfully and kissed his pouting lips

“don’t you want our creations to be happy baby” he asked still pouting despite the the kiss, holding the flyer right in front of your face

“oh my god fine” you huffed grabbing the flyer and folding it up, he did a silent cheer “but you have to find something under $50 for your parents”

“that’s fine my mom just knitted you an ugly sweater” he said laughing at the end and your mouth fell open in a shocked oh

“MY MOM KNITTED YOU AN UGLY SWEATER TOO” you yelled out happily, hoping you didn’t wake the kids

“we’re going to look so awful this christmas” johnny laughed out “this is amazing”

“i can’t believe your mom hates me that much” you laughed as well, taking a bite of toast

“what? no. she doesn’t hate you, she just loves knitting” johnny stole the toast out of your hands and took a bite but after a second he choked “wait a minute..”

“does that mean your mom hates me?” he cried out a frown gracing his face “i thought we had something special”

you shook your head in response “she doesn’t hate you she’s just pretty sure you’re an alien and she doesn’t trust you”

“yn what the fuck”

・。.❆.・。❅.・。❉ ・。.❆.・。❅.・。❉ . 。・

he had strategically planned this out

watching your patterns when you walked through the house

analyzing trends and odds to figure out where to put it

well actually he just placed mistletoe everywhere

obnoxious christmas music blasted through your house 

people were everywhere with mugs of eggnog and hot chocolate

his plan was perfect

and yet he couldn’t find you

“what are you doing man?” mark came up to johnny who was standing alone placing his left hand on johnny's shoulder, a mug in his other

“searching,” johnny answered immediately his eyes refusing to stop scanning the room to look at mark

mark hummed in response then took his hand away from johnny’s shoulder “wait, why?” 

“i had a perfect plan and it’s getting ruined” johnny muttered frustrated watching another couple kiss under the mistletoe he had set up for you

finally he spotted you happily talking to some friends a small smile grew on his face now that he could go through with his plan

he watched you move around the room from friend to friend beautifully smiling and laughing making his heart skip a beat

“dad,” soojin whined, tugging on his sleeve to get his attention but he didn’t break his eyes away from you

“not now soojin, daddy is plotting” he said a mischievous smile on his face

“you’re so weird” she mumbled before walking away a wave of her hand over her shoulder

it took a few minutes for mark to catch on to what was happening

“you are aware she’s your wife, and this plan is stupid, right?” mark teased

“and your opinion is unwanted” johnny responded

just when he did, your head turned to him having felt eyes on you

you met his eyes and smiled softly, waving, making his knees feel weak, still not used to your charms after all these years

as soon as you stopped talking to the guests johnny walked over to you and tried to gesture you into directions were mistletoe hung but each time you turned and went the wrong way

he didn’t know what he did wrong

he thought he planned this perfectly

but nothing was working out

you noticed johnny’s plan after the first few small pushes in the direction of the mistletoe and from that point on you tried to tease him

you saw his frustration and pout growing as well as him trying to hide his disappointment at the same time

you made sure to avoid the mistletoe the entire time

by the end of the night johnny had given up and stuck to just holding your hand sadly

together you said goodbye to the guest as the all left

mark patting johnny on the back saying a “better luck next time buddy” before leaving

johnny sighed when everyone was gone and began to walk back into the house to clean up

“hey johnny” you spoke quickly before he could walk away gaining his attention

on your tip toes you attempted to hold mistletoe that you had stolen from the walls over his head

he smiled so brightly when he saw immediately falling into a kiss with you

you couldn’t have wished for a better christmas

・。.❆.・。❅.・。❉ ・。.❆.・。❅.・。❉ . 。・

[sheerfreesia007]

Fallin’ All In You (Pt. 63)

Title: Fallin’ All In You (Pt. 63)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007​​

Words: 3,045

Warnings: Fluff, Tears

Tags: @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​, @two-unbeatable-beaters​, @randomness501​, @sevvysaurus​, @paryl​, @talesfromtheguild​, @secretsihideinside​, @agingerindenial​, @mrschiltoncat​

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711​, @fioccodineveautunnale​, @phoenixhalliwell​

Author Notes: It’s HERE!! I cried writing this. I wanted to do snippets of their big day and I think this came wonderfully. Got a little sad but that’s okay. I hope you enjoy it because I did! Feedback is always appreciated!

Gif Credit: Google

         You’re floating in the soft hazy world of dreamland when suddenly you hear a chorus of screeches before small flailing bundles of limbs land harshly onto your stomach and you groan loudly.

         “Hailey Jane!” Charlotte calls out sternly.

         “Juniper Rose!” cries Rachel in reprimand and you smile warmly as you wrap your arms around the girls and roll over on top of them.

         “Oh no! Sandman still has his hold on me and I’m being dragging back in slumber land!” you call out as you let your body cover the girls and they squeal loudly with delight. “Can’t. Move. So. Tired.” You gasp out and pull the girls closer to you and snuggle them back into the bed as they giggle and laugh loudly.

         “Goodness, you’re gonna be a good mom aren’t you?” Charlotte says through a chuckle and you open one eye to look over the bed at her where she’s standing in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest. Rachel is laughing as she leans against the wall next to Charlotte watching the three of you in bed.

         “These two and Hunter are just giving me good practice.” You respond as you grab for Juniper’s ankle as she scuttles out of the bed shrieking.

         “Alright you three let’s have some breakfast and then we all have to start getting ready it’s already eight.” Charlotte says warmly as she shakes her head and you release Hailey who rushes from the bed to run out of the room with Juniper yelling that they had gotten you up. Charlotte and Rachel walk out of your bedroom and you smile as you roll over to climb out of the bed. Your phone is laying on the bed side table and you can see the little blue light blinking letting you know that you have a notification.

         Swiping your finger across your phone you smile as you see that it’s a text message from Jack.

         Good Mornin’ darlin’. I love you. I can’t wait to change your last name.                          

         The smile that slipped onto your lips was soft and sweet as your fingers typed out your own message to your future husband.

         I can’t wait to slide that wedding ring onto your finger. I’ll meet you there cowboy.

         Setting your phone down on the end table you slid from the bed and picked up your cane as you made your way to the kitchen where Addison, Memaw, Charlotte, Rachel, Tequila and the kids were all moving about cooking and plating up breakfast. When you entered the room loud cheers and calls rang out and you smiled happily at them all. Tequila walked over to you and wrapped you in his arms for a tight hug.

         “Good morning Cur. How ya feelin’?” he asks warmly as he sways your body with his gently.

         “I’m feeling good. Knee’s not acting up but I don’t wanna stress it until we’re ready.” You respond informatively and Tequila nods his head agreeing with you.

         “Good plan.” He says softly. Then he was ushering you to a chair and a large stack of pancakes were placed in front of you. Breakfast moving along as warm excited happy chatter filled the room and swirled around you making you feel the love from everyone here.

           “Alright so Tequila you’ve gotta step out so that we can get her into her dress.” Addison said softly as she gently pushed him out of the bedroom. He looks back over his shoulder at you and you smile reassuringly at him before he steps out. The photographer is snapping picture after picture and you’re starting to feel antsy. When Addison comes back over to you she has a soft kind smile on her face, you’re sitting in the vanity chair where the makeup artist has just finished with your light soft makeup. Addison steps up behind you and gently adjusts your hair around your shoulders before her hands graze against them. “You are gonna look absolutely gorgeous darlin’.” Addison says softly and you look up at her in the mirror of the vanity.

         Deep emotion swells over you and you feel your eyes begin to well up with tears. “Now, now none of that.” Addison chides softly and you gasp out a soft laugh. “Why don’t you go slip into your dress and I’ll help you with the zipper.” She suggests. You nod and go into the large ensuite bathroom where your dress is hanging on the back of the door. Being careful of your makeup and hairstyle you slide the dress on and stare at yourself in awe in the mirror.

         Once you step out everyone turns to stare at you and they all smile such warm loving smiles that you feel the tears begin to fill your eyes again. Rachel and Charlotte step up to you and Charlotte quickly dabs at your eyes with a tissue so as not to mess up your makeup and Rachel wraps you in a soft hug.

         “Absolutely stunning. Whiskey’s not gonna know what hit him when he sees you.” Tequila says and you chuckle happily over your shoulder as Addison moves you to stand in front of the window and she zips up your dress, you can hear the shutter of the camera going off and you smile turning back to face Addison and grasping her hands softly in yours.

         “Thank you so much for being here with me.” You say sincerely and watch as her eyes shine with unshed tears and suddenly she dragging you into a tight hug. You laugh out happily and then feel three other pairs of arms wrap around you and you snuggle deeper into Addison’s arms. The love you’re feeling is all consuming and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

         “C’mon now darlin’ we gotta fasten your veil on.” Memaw’s voice pulls you from the hug and you turn to see her holding the hair clasp that’s attached to your veil. Moving to sit in the chair you look up at the mirror and watch Memaw fasten the veil in your hair and she smiles at you in the mirror before resting her hands on your shoulders squeezing lightly. “Beautiful.” She says softly and you grin widely. “Now let’s go get you married!” she cheers and you burst out into laughter.

           You’re sitting in the golf cart that Jack had rented for the day when Tequila guides it over to the large barn that’s going to hold your reception. The late afternoon sun is shining brightly and you couldn’t be happier as you look over the property over to the large crabapple tree where you’re going to say your vows and marry Jack in front of your friends and family. When Tequila stops the golf cart you frown over at him.

         “What’s going on Tequila?” you ask curiously. He grins over at you and holds up one finger before he’s moving over to the barn doors and peering around them to talk to someone behind the door. You watch silently and he comes walking back over to you with a wide bright smile.

         “I’ve got a surprise for you.” He says softly and helps you out of the golf cart. Walking you over to the barn door he situated you with your back to the door and moves your hand so that your fingers are curled around the edge of the door before he steps away from you back to the golf cart. You tilt your head at him concerned and are about to open your mouth to ask him what’s going on when you feel a familiar set of fingers curl over your own. You jolt in surprise and a soft voice filters into your ears.

         “Hey darlin’.” Jack says softly and your fingers clench around the door in response you’re so shocked that he’s here with you right now before you walk down the aisle to him. “I know it’s bad luck to see the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding but I needed to have some form of connection with you before.”

         “Oh Jack.” You gasp out softly at his loving words. “I love you.”

         “I love you too darlin’ and I can’t wait to marry you.” He says warmly and you grin as your free hand comes up to cover your mouth as the emotions are just racing through you. “I’m so excited to start my forever with you.” Your hand that’s gripping the door lets go and you lace your fingers with his and grip his hand tightly.

         “I can’t even begin to put words to the emotions I’m feeling right now with you. Just know that I love you and I’m so happy to be here today with you.” You coo at him from behind the door and hear him chuckle softly almost bashfully. “We’ve been through so much already Jack and I wouldn’t change anything. I am so in love with you and can’t imagine my world being without Jack Daniels in it. And I can’t wait to finally call myself Mrs. Daniels.”

         “Darlin’.” He says softly and you grin widely as your hand squeezes his once.

         “I love you and I’ll meet you at the end of the aisle.” You say as you pull his hand up to your mouth to press a soft kiss to it before you’re picking up your dress and dashing for the golf cart. Once you slide into your seat you turn to Tequila bright eyed and breathless. “Get me to aisle Tequila I’ve got a cowboy to marry.”

           Officer Murdock is smiling widely as you pull up to the end of the aisle with Tequila. Your heart clenches in your chest as your eyes look him over and then settle on his own. He’s dressed in sharp looking dark gray suit and he’s got a navy blue tie that has sunflower yellow stripes running across it. You laugh delightedly and stumble over to him where he catches you easily.

         “Hey there Little Terror.” He says warmly as he smiles down at you.

         “Hey Murdock. Look at you looking sharp!” you said with a grin and he chuckles at your words.

         “You ready to do this kiddo?” he asks warmly and you nod your head excitedly and smile as he holds out his elbow for you. You hand your cane over to Tequila who smiles and nods at Murdock before making his way over to his spot at the front of the aisle.

         “More than ever.” You answer with a bright smile. Just then the bridal march played in a country style song begins to sound out and Murdock pats your hand as he begins to guide you down the aisle. You’re beaming as the two of your round the aisle and begin to walk down it. You can see the chairs that line the aisle are all full and everyone is standing as they all watch you with bright smiles. Everyone that has touched yours and Jack’s life in some way is here to celebrate the two of you and you can’t help but feel your throat close up with emotion. Murdock squeezes your hand and you smile up at him in thanks. From Jack’s family members to fellow agents from Statesman to even members of the Boston P.D. they’re all here to watch you and Jack link your lives forever.

         You slowly lift your eyes to the end of the aisle and your breath catches as you spot Jack waiting there for you. He’s dressed in a charcoal gray suit jacket with a navy blue button up shirt and sunflower yellow tie. He looks as handsome as you’ve ever seen him and you can’t believe for a second that you’re marrying this man. As Murdock walks you closer to where Jack is standing you can see the bright happy smile gracing his lips as he stares at you and you can only chuckle in response.

         It seems to take forever to get down the aisle to him but when you’re finally standing there opposite him and Murdock is handing you off to him you can’t seem to stop the excited vibration of your body.

         “Good luck to you. She’s vibrating she’s so excited.” Murdock says softly to Jack as he sets a hand on his shoulder with a smile. Jack grins and tugs you towards him so that you can stand in front of the minister.

           You’re staring into his eyes feeling as if you could float away with hope much happiness is bubbling up inside of you. The minister turns to the crowd gathered around you and smiles brightly.

         “And now the bride and groom will share their vows.” Jack grins over at you and your smile brightly knowing that whatever he has planned is going to take your breath away.

         “Darlin’, I have loved you from the moment you kicked my ass in training and laid me out on the floor.” He begins. Chuckles sound from the crowd and from Jack’s brother standing behind him. You bite your lip and wink at Jack as he grins at you. “I once thought that I could never fall in love for a second time in my life but you managed to slide into my life so seamlessly that I didn’t even realize that I was falling in love again. And when I did realize it, it was already too late. You hold my heart darlin’ and I couldn’t pick a better person for the job if I tried.” He finished sweetly. You blinked at him and saw that he was watching you steadily with a warm smile on his lips.

         “Jack, you are my best friend besides Tequila.” You begin and everyone who knows Tequila bursts out into bright laughter and you grin at Jack’s smirk. “You are my partner, my confidante, my soulmate.” You say softly and feel the tears start to pool in your eyes as the emotions bubble up again inside of you. “You’re the one I run to when things go bad and when things go great. You’re the one who I look for as soon as I wake and the one I look for when I fall asleep. You mean more to me than I could ever express in words. So Jack Daniels I give you my heart, my body, and my soul to try and even come close to expressing what you are to me.” You finish softly and grin through the tears that have escaped your eyes. Jack’s own eyes are watery as he watches you listening to your words.

         “By the power invested in me I now pronounce you husband and I wife you may now kiss your wife.” Says the minister and Jack grins before his hand in on your hip and his other cupping the back of your head and pulling you into him. Your lips come together and sparks fly. For all the kisses you have shared together there is something about this one that is just so different and as you sink into the kiss with him you know you both feel it. Your arms wrap around his neck and tugs your body into his as he curves over you. “I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Daniels!”

         Loud cheers sound deafening around you and you can’t help but to grin through the kiss you’re sharing. When you pull away Jack makes a grunt of displeasure and leans in to kiss you again making you laugh against his lips as everyone starts to hoot and holler at the two of you.

           The reception is in full swing at this time. Night has fallen and everyone is having a wonderful time celebrating. Food, laughter and happy conversation fill the barn as you sit at a small table with Jack. You’re finishing up your dinner when Tequila walks out onto the dance floor with a mic in his hand. He grins over at your table and you feel Jack grip your hand softly. Looking over to Jack you furrow your eyebrows at him and he just smiles warmly at you.

         “Ladies and gentleman we have a very special surprise for Cur tonight. Some of you may know but unfortunately Cur recently lost her father this year. And while I hate to bring up something so sad the men in Cur’s life wanted to do something special for her tonight to honor her position in all our lives.” Tequila explained smiling softly and lovingly at you. “So Cur since you’re Daddy ain’t here to dance with you on your wedding day we’d all like a turn around the dance floor with in remembrance of him.”

         Your gasp is heard loudly as you stare at Tequila with tears flowing down your face. You feel a tap at your right shoulder and turn to see Jack’s grandfather standing there holding his hand out to you. You sob softly and place your hand in his as he leads you out onto the dancefloor. A soft melodic sweet song is playing over the speakers as he begins to dance with you on the dancefloor. It’s hard for you to keep the tears at bay as not only Jack’s grandfather, but his father, his brother, Officer Murdock and Tequila dance with you during the song. And as the song is nearing it’s end Jack cuts in with Tequila who grins over at your husband and gladly lets him end the song with you in his arms.

         Your face is pressed to Jack’s chest as he sways with you in his arms. Your tears are still falling down your face and your body is sagging softly with the waves of love and affection you’re feeling from this simple heartfelt gesture from all of the men in your life.

         “I am so utterly in love with you and know that your family is looking down on us celebrating right along with us darlin’.” Jack whispers into your ear. You look up at him as tears fall softly down your face and you smile brightly up at him. There’s nothing you can say to make this moment any better so you lean up on tip toe and press a deep kiss to your husband’s lips.

[kiseki-no-scenarios]

Oh anon, of course I will write something for you!! Chronic pain is a difficult issue for anyone to suffer from, and I hope that you have many more good days than bad!

A close friend of mine suffers from severe scoliosis and had to miss a lot of days of school due to the pain on some days so I have a bit of experience seeing someone dealing with spinal issues. I hope this cheers you up!!

Boyfriend!GOM and Reader with spinal injuries

Akashi Seijuro

Akashi never missed a single thing. With just a single glance, he could immediately tell if what kind of day you were having, and you had long given up on trying to hide your bad days from him.

Unfortunately, today was one of those days. The pain medications you had taken earlier in the day seemed to be wearing off faster than usual, and you sucked in a deep breath trying to not react to the painful tingles that accompanied your every movement.

When the bell rang signaling the start of lunch, you remained seated while the rest of your classmates had all stood up, grabbing their lunchboxes or leaving for the cafeteria.

Biting your lip, you gingerly began reaching for your cane, moving slowly to prevent any additional aggravation to your spine.

“_____.”

“Seijuro?” Turning your head, you see your boyfriend at the door of your classroom, making his way towards you. “Sorry, I know we planned to meet up for lunch…”

“I’ve simply decided to come to you, _____. A short walk around the courtyard may help relieve the stiffness in your back.” Carefully, Akashi hands you your cane, before reaching out for your other arm. “A walk arm in arm sounds good, doesn’t it?”

“It does sound pleasant.” You reply, smiling for the first time that day.

“I will always be here to support you, _____. Whether it be with my arms or with my heart.”

Kise Ryouta

“Sit, sit! Today is pampering _____-cchi day!” Kise guides you to the couch, forcing you to sit down before he returns with an armful of pillows. “I’ll even provide my special pillow-fluffing service~”

“Ryouta, I can barely see over all of these pillows…” One by one, Kise was adding pillows around you, and before long you were surrounded by what seemed like a literal tower of fluff.

“But you’re comfy, right?”

“Very comfy.” You nod, easing your body into the nest of pillows. “I feel like I’m on a cloud!”

“_____-cchi is an angel, and angels sleep on clouds.” Leaning down, Kise kisses your forehead. “I’ll do anything _____-cchi wants me to do today! Do you want something to eat?”

“Anything?”

“Anything!”

“Then…” Reaching up, you tap your pointer finger on Kise’s lips. “Sing for me, Ryouta.”

“Wha-“ Kise blushes as he pouts, and you can only laugh at the look on his face. “I’m not that great at singing…”

“You promised! Anything I wanted, right?” Responding to his pout with one of your own, you poke his lips again. “Sing for me, my little songbird.”

“Heh. You don’t play fair, _____-cchi.”

You close your eyes as Kise begins humming softly, singing what sounds like a lullaby.

And just like that, ensconced in a soft nest, feeling the vibrations of Kise’s voice, you drift off into a pleasant sleep.

Midorima Shintarou

“_____, Midorima-kun is at the door.”

“Huh? What’s he doing here?” Confused, you slowly sit up from your bed.

“You’ll have to ask him yourself, honey.” Your mom replies with a smile, helping you down the stairs.

Midorima is indeed in the middle of your living room, engaged what seems like a staring contest with your little brother.

“You look like a carrot.” Your little brother suddenly says, and you can’t help but laugh at the indignant look on Midorima’s face.

“I am not a carrot, nandayo.”

“You’re my cute carrot, Shin-tan.” You tease, walking forward. “So, what’s with the surprise visit?”

Midorima clears his throat, bowing his head to your mother. “_____-san, please allow me to take _____ out tonight. I will have her back at a reasonable hour.”

“That’s perfectly fine, Midorima-kun!” Smiling, your mother tugs your little brother back so the two of you could leave. “Have fun!”

Still confused, you find yourself staring at the cart parked outside your house. “I’m still confused, what’s this?”

“Takao insisted that I use it for our…date.” Midorima mumbles, turning his face away slightly. “There’s enough room in there for you to lay down, and there is going to be a meteor shower tonight.”

Looking into the cart, you notice that a bed of pillows and blankets were had been arranged inside. “Aww, Shin-tan…”

“I-I just had some free time tonight, that’s all.” Reaching out for you, Midorima gently wraps his arms around your waist, helping you settle into the cart.

“Hehe. This is the best, Shintarou. Thank you.” Planting a kiss on his cheek, you giggle softly at the startled look on Midorima’s face.

As Midorima began to pedal, you noticed that the stars did seem to shine brighter than normal tonight.

Aomine Daiki

“If you drop me, it would be very, very bad.”

“Like I’d do that.” Scoffing, Aomine adjusts your position on his back. “Are you doubting my strength?”

“Not your strength, but you can be an idiot sometimes, Daiki.”

“Oi, is that anyway to talk to your boyfriend??”

“Just stating the truth.” Laughing, you press your cheek against Aomine’s broad back. What had started as a fun day at the court watching Aomine playing basketball with Kuroko and Kagami had ended abruptly when you started hurting.

“…I’m sorry.” You whisper, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m a mess, I’m just bothering you all, and I bet I’m heavy too…”

“…Babe. _____.” You sniffle as Aomine’s voice drops into a comforting tone. “Why are you apologizing? If you’re hurting, there’s no need to hide it.”

“You were having so much fun, and because of me we have to go home…!”

“I can play basketball with Bakagami and Tetsu anytime, so don’t worry about it. Seriously. Now stop crying, you’re going to make my jersey wet.”

“Jerk. Just for that I’m dropping a popsicle down your back.”

“Jeez, what has Tetsu been teaching you, I swear…”

Hooking your arms around Aomine’s neck, you squeeze tightly. “Thank you…”

“Anytime, babe.”

Of course, in true Aomine fashion, he broke the romantic atmosphere a second later by squeezing your butt.

“DAIKI!”

Murasakibara Atsushi

“Ne, _____-chin. What do you want to eat?”

“Mm not hungry.” You reply, words muffled by the couch you were laying face down on. “Everything hurts.”

You hear Murasakibara shuffling around, opening cupboards here and there. “Muro-chin says that eating something sweet always helps.”

“…I guess I want some cake.”

“Cake…Cake sounds good.”

“It’s fine if you want to go visit that bakery with Himuro-kun, Atsushi.” You felt bad, having originally made plans to try out the newest pastries that were debuting today with Murasakibara, but the pain in your spine was too much to bear.

“It’s fine. Muro-chin can go with Kuro-chin and Kaga-chin.”

“Sorry, lets go next time-“ You gasp suddenly, feeling Murasakibara’s hands press down along your back. “Oof!”

“Hold still, _____-chin.” Murasakibara murmurs, his hands slowly moving up and down your back.

“That feels really good…” Closing your eyes, you focus on the sensation of Murasakibara’s large hands kneading your back. There were some areas that felt more sore than others, but you could feel your muscles loosening as a result.

“Cakes don’t taste as good without _____-chin.”

“Mm…” You could only make a noise of agreement as Murasakibara’s hands continue to press down, soothing the painful spots along your spine.

You were so lost in the cloud of relaxation that you didn’t even notice Murasakibara had pushed up the back of your shirt and was now touching your skin directly.

“_____-chin looks so tasty…”

“Eek, Atsushi…! That tickles!”

Pressing kisses to your skin, Murasakibara only hummed in response. “ _____-chin tastes so sweet~”

[somedayonbroadway]

A Newsie Carol Have You Forgotten How To Smile

And chapter 4!

"You… I know you! Your that-"

"Oh of course you know me! I'm that happy spirit that you get when you feel even the slightest bit of joy inside that cold heart of yours!" the spirit assured. "But, I clearly haven't done my job, since you don't know how to spend a Christmas morning, my friend!" It scolded, standing from its crouched position beside the man's bed.

It was a woman. A short, plump, carefree, dark skinned woman. One with pink cheeks and a smile that showed off pearly white teeth. She wore a flattering, sparkling green dress with pink accents and glitter all over it. She was young, perhaps even younger than the last spirit he'd seen. "Oh, what is it, honey?" she laughed, gliding up to him. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"

Pulitzer was not laughing.

"Oh, cheer up, darlin'! You're back in the Present now!" she laughed, tapping his arm as he glared at her. "Unlock the door and let the music in, Joe! It's Christmas Day!" The spirit was bight and confident, even more so than the last. She glowed, not figuratively, but literally, as if she had spot light following her every which way. "Are you ready, honey?"

With a small shake of his head, Joseph could be nothing but honest with the beautiful ghost. "In all honesty, Spirit," he whispered, looking up at her, "I'm not sure I am…"

But she scoffed. "No use dwelling on the past, honey. Ya can't outrun it, but you sure as hell learn from it," she explained. Her voice was soothing to him. He couldn't place why. "Now… let's get you out of here and down onto the streets of New York… Christmas wait for no one, my friend!"

Before the man could even begin to rush back and hide beneath the covers of his bed, he was on the snowy, freezing cold streets of Manhattan. No one seemed bothered by that, though. No. Everyone seemed much too happy for that. "Recognize that building?"

That was enough to get Pulitzer's attention. He looked up. They were standing right outside of his building. His company.

And there, walking past them in a rush, was his assistant who looked as if he were late for something. He watched as the man fished some change out of his pocket as he passed by the carolers who were once again standing just outside the entrance to The World. He tossed whatever spare coins he had in their bucket and stopped for a moment, reaching out to shake their hands, offering a small thank you, before rushing down the street.

Joseph made to follow the boy. But a hand on his arm stopped him. "Not yet, Joseph, darling. First… lets go dancing!"

The caroler sang louder and an invisible orchestra seemed to begin accompanying them. The music was loud and cheery and everything that Joe had been trying to avoid.

Forcefully, the spirit pulled him down the road, twirling him around in the snow as he had no way to stop it. "Hey!" he cried, trying to rip himself from her grip.

But he stopped fighting when he was whirled around and forced to look at each and every happy face of every man, woman and child rushing down the streets of New York, bags and gifts in hand, treats smothered across their faces as they went to celebrate this commercial of a holiday.

For some reason, he couldn't find it in himself to be upset or angry in any way. A lightness took over him as people sang with those carolers who smiled and danced as they walked by.

He had no time to dwell as he was pulled continually down the road. The spirit didn't stop to let him watch.

She kept on dancing and caroling her way through the cold, but cheerful streets of Manhattan. He lost sight of where they were completely, just as he began to enjoy the music.

That's when things went quiet.

"Ah, here we are!"

Here was a small apartment that was somewhere deep within Manhattan. Somewhere warm and festive, but still small and simple. "Where… where are we-"

"No… he's not coming…" a voice sighed from behind him. Joseph whirled around at the familiar voice. "No… I'll be fine. I'm glad that you decided to spend Christmas with Bill, it was about time. Don't worry about me… Merry Christmas, Darcy."

"Katherine…"

She hung up her sell phone, sighing as she plopped down on the small couch with a small television playing some old, black and white Christmas movie. It was at that moment that Pulitzer realized how much he missed that beautiful young woman. She picked up a plate of fudge that had more than likely been a gift for somebody and stuffed two pieces completely in her mouth, looking more sad than Pulitzer cared to remember her.

She had always been his happy little girl.

"Spending Christmas alone is never something anyone should have to do."

"She said she was planning a Christmas dinner with a friend…" Pulitzer stated, shaking his head as he just didn't understand who would dare leave this woman alone on Christmas. She deserved better.

She had always deserved better.

But the young woman only sulked for a moment before she looked over at a small picture frame that was set on a table just beside her. Pulitzer's heart clenched. It was a picture of their small —now broken— family. The one that Pulitzer himself had torn apart.

A small smile spread over her lips. She stood to her feet and began to sway, just like someone else once had. Pulitzer smiled and stepped closer to her, just in time to hear his baby girl begin to sing. "Frosted window panes, candles gleaming inside, painted candy canes on the tree… Santa's on his way, he's filled his sleigh with things… things for you and for me…"

Joseph let his hands hover above his daughters hips as she began to dance just like her mother once had. "It's that time of year… when the world falls in love… every song you hear seems to say…" he sang with her as she smiled. "Merry Christmas, my love…" he whispered to her, hoping she could hear him. Hoping this scene might become real.

The spirit only began to dance right along with them. "Oh, I like her! She's a sweetheart!"

Pulitzer laughed. "Yes… yes she is… even after everything… she still calls me…" he admitted, his voice quiet and reserved. "She deserves better, Spirit… so much better… better than me..."

Nodding and pausing in her slow sways, the ghost offered him a kind smile. "There seems to be a lot of that going around." She placed her hand on Joseph's shoulder and the shadow of his precious daughter faded, giving way to white.

So much white.

"Spirit... where are we?"

It didn't take much to deduce that it was a hospital room. A small, quiet but secluded room with a single white bed in the corner, surrounded by wires and machines and one single stuffed bear that a small child clung to with a tired grip as he breathed in and out so slowly. Anyone in the small vicinity of the room could hear each and every inhalation he took through the small tube in his nose.

The boy was so small. Smaller than any child the old man had dared take notice to in a long while. Four, if Pulitzer were to guess. He'd put money on it. The scrawny, pale kid couldn't be older than four. He listened intently to every breath the child took in. They were forcefully deep and moved his small chest up and down with a grey blanket and a hospital gown. The boy's weak grip on his teddy bear was enough to bring forward something in the man's chest. Something he hadn't felt in a long time.

It was Christmas Day. And no one was here with this boy.

At least, not until moments later. Not until the door creaked open with a sort of hesitance that Joseph was sure he'd never had in his entire life. "Spirit..." Pulitzer called again. "Who is that boy?" he dared to ask, never once taking his eyes off of that precious, sleeping form.

The spirit beside him didn't move, and stared down at the boy just the same, sadness growing in her eyes. "That's Jack Kelly's brother, Joe... his only living relative... that's Tyler James," the ghost beside him stated, as if Pulitzer should have known.

A pang of guilt shot through the man's heart. Pulitzer should have known.

"How's he doin'?" a familiar voice with a thick New York accent asked, stepping cautiously into the small room with his hands shoved into his pockets as he took in the sight of that child, his voice soft and loving.

Pulitzer didn't know what this feeling was. But suddenly, it was like his heart was dropping down into his stomach. "Kelly..."

"He's been sleepin' for most of the night, but he ain't any worse off. Been callin' for you though..." There were two other men in the room. Jack and a nurse. A nurse that was only a bit taller than Jack and only possibly a few years older. One with dark brown hair and kind brown eyes.

Nodding a bit, Jack sighed, setting down his old coat and his backpack. That coat was wearing thin and that backpack had a broken zipper and a whole in its side. Joe wondered silently how his assistant had even managed such a thing before immediately shoving the thought to the back of his running mind. He watched as his employee took a couple steps forward, reaching to pet the small child's hair. That was when Pulitzer first caught sight of the bluest eyes he had ever seen. A sort of blue that he couldn't even begin to describe. One that made the morning sky on its best day look like night. He saw a smile that rivaled the sun with its brightness when that little child looked up to see the man that stood over him. "Jackie..."

The old man looked over to the spirit with wide eyes when he felt something in his chest tighten. That boy's voice was weak. It was breathy and shaken and quiet. It was broken. Sick. It was so small.

But Jack didn't even seem to notice. "Hey, baby..." Jack whispered, thumbing at the boy's cheek. "Merry Christmas..." he breathed, even more lovingly.

"Merry Christmas, J..." The child held fast to his stuffed bear, even as he tried to scoot closer to his big brother. A hand went down on his shoulder from behind. He pouted, squeezing the life out of the small comfort he held in his small, skinny arms.

Jack laughed and the nurse shushed the child. "It's okay, Tyler," the other man soothed, walking around the bed to a chair that was set in front of a small computer screen. "Jack ain't goin' nowhere..." he promised.

Nodding along, Jack agreed. "Yeah, he's right... I's stayin' right here all night..." The young man was so quiet. But the joy in his voice could be heard from miles away.

At that, the boy gasped in awe. And Pulitzer could hardly breathe. All he could do was stand and watch as this boy smiled so easily, simply at the news that he wouldn't be alone that night. Simply at the news of being able to spend Christmas night with the only family he had.

"He's only six..."

The vague memory of those words played over and over again in Joseph's mind. And it crushed him even more when he looked down at that boy again. He was so small. He looked so much younger than six. He looked so innocent, laying there so helplessly, just so happy that he had his brother with him.

"Hey, Dave?" Pulitzer blinked himself out of his own thoughts at the voice of his underpaid assistant. The one he was always so hard on. "Hey... do ya think maybe I could... uh... you think maybe I could hold him?" Jack's voice was quiet and unsure. The boy on the bed was hooked up to so machines and wires.

But when that boy looked up so pleadingly at the nurse above him, there was no answer anyone could give him accept for the one that he got. The man in the scrubs sighed and looked from Jack down to the child on the bed. It was as if Pulitzer could feel his heart being torn apart in his chest. He didn't understand it. He didn't know this child or the man who was begging to simply be able to hold him. What did it matter to him?

He watched the tall nurse nod slowly before standing to his feet and pushing Jack aside to help the small kid out of the bed. "Okay, Tyler... I'm gonna let Jack hold you for a minute... but only for a minute, okay? You need ta rest..."

Tyler nodded almost violently. He still held his teddy bear tight and squeezed his eyes shut when Davey began to carefully untether him from the machines that were there to cater to him and help him.

The ones that were there to keep him alive.

"Spirit... why didn't Kelly ever tell me that Tyler was ill?" he asked quietly, this whole scene tearing him apart inside. He could've done something. He could help. He could help this child. This little boy who had nothing. He could help.

The spirit turned to him. There was a certain anger to it as it did, one that burned within it's eyes. "He tried. You wouldn't listen." It was as simple as that. Joe didn't recall. He couldn't remember Jack speaking of it.

He couldn't remember Jack speaking of anything. Had he ever once listened to the young man?

Pulitzer tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He watched as that precious boy was lifted so delicately into his big brother's arms. He stared intently as the boy melted into the young man's chest, looking as though he weighed absolutely nothing, looking completely boneless as he lay his sleepy head down on Jack's shoulder. But that was nothing compared to the way that young man looked down to that little boy. "Hey, kid..." he breathed, his hands shaking ever so slightly.

The boy didn't move from the perfect position against the young man's chest. He sighed. "Hi, Jackie-Bear..."

The boy smiled tiredly as Jack began to sway on his feet a little bit. "How w's your day yesterday, Racer?"

It sounded like an old routine. One they had to go through. One that made them both grasp to something that felt familiar; something constant.

The child's grin seemed to widen, albeit sleepily, at the simple question. "Charlie came n' read me a story yest'rday... n' we watched The Grinch... n' Spottie brought me a new blanket..." he stated, curling his tiny fists into his brother's sweatshirt. "I missed 'em..." he explained before a precious yawn escaped him and he melted even further into the man who looked down on him with more love than Pulitzer could recall ever feeling. A type of love that was said only a parent could feel. Jack was feeling that right now.

"I know, baby... they'll be back t'night, I promise..."

"F'r Christmas?"

Nodding and beginning to pace and rock around the room with the child in his arms, Jack nodded. "Yeah... f'r Christmas..." he confirmed, though his voice was still so quiet.

The boy nodded against the young man. Pulitzer had forgotten what this had felt like. What feeling had felt like. It was almost horrible and most definitely foreign. But suddenly, it was like a flood had broken through the dam he'd built around his heart.

He watched that boy doze off on his brother's shoulder, seeing Jack shush and coo at him. It never occurred to the old man that this boy whom he'd hired almost a year ago had things to truly worry about. After all, he was so young.

Those piercing blue eyes blinked open again. And Joseph couldn't help but be memorized. "Why d'ya think Santa didn't come 'round again this year, Jackie?" his small, airy voice asked.

The way Jack paused did not go unnoticed by the old man who took a few silent steps closer to the pair who were already being closely monitored by the nurse sitting at the small desk beside the bed. He wanted to reach out, try and get the man to notice him, to offer some kind of reassurance or help. Jack couldn't see him. He cradled the boy even closer to his chest, breathing out so slowly and closing his eyes for just a moment. "Santa's doin' his best, kiddo, I promise... he's workin' hard f'r you... he just needs a little more time this year..." he breathed finally, brushing a kiss up against the boy's forehead.

That child looked as fragile as air. He could break into pieces any moment. This may be the last one he had.

As that small boy breathed in heavily, his small frame moving with every breath, he loosened his death grip on the small stuffed animal in his arms. He was getting tired, though he'd just woken up. "I been good this year, bubba..." the boy whispered.

Jack nodded, continuing in his pace back and forth across the small room. "Yeah... yeah, you have..." he agreed.

In his sleepy daze, the child nodded and dropped the topic, moving onto another and somehow making Pulitzer's heart hurt even more. "When can I go home?"

It was a simple question, one that any parent should have been able to answer with a quick "Soon" or a "tomorrow". Not Kelly. Kelly couldn't say that. Because that would make Kelly a liar. If there was one thing Jospeh Pulitzer knew about Jack Kelly, it was that he was no liar.

But Jack seemed to respond easily anyways, as if Tyler James asked it every night. "Home? No, Racer, we're goin' ta Santa Fe, remember? We're gonna ride the horses n' run outside in the fields n' you don't gotta lie 'round in bed no more..." he promised.

An exhausted smile spread back on the boy's face. "Santa Fe... you can bet..." he sang in a whisper. It must've been all he could muster. But it made Jack melt all the same.

Unable to take his eyes off of the small child in Jack's arms, Joe breathed out. Then, for what must have been the first time, the old man looked up at the young man who had been working for him for what felt like decades. For the first time, he saw the pureness of that young man. He saw the walls coming down, only for this moment. For the first time he saw how young this man was. "We won't let no bastards beat us..." Jack sung back to his baby brother. "We won't beg no one ta treat us fair n' square... there's a life that's worth the livin'... n' I'm gonna do my share..."

His voice was so soft. So smooth. Pulitzer had never known he'd had it in him. He hadn't ever known Jack could be so careful or gentle with something. He hadn't ever known that this little boy existed. He should have known. He should have asked.

He should have cared.

"I'm sorry we ain't in Santa Fe, JJ..." the boy whispered, yawning again and losing his grip in his bear completely.

Jack shifted the child so he rested in only one arm and steadied the bear against Tyler James. "We'll get there, baby... but I don't need nothin' else so long 's I got you..."

There was something inside Pulitzer that was crying out, though he found his lips melting into a small, sad smile. That baby boy was more precious than anything he'd seen in a long time. He could see his own child in his arms, a long time ago. He forgot what it felt like. To have nothing but that little baby keeping him going, making him smile.

It was like that same thing, that same feeling was happening all over again, only with someone else. Someone who needed so much help.

Help that he could give. Help that he'd withheld for so long.

"I thought ya wan'ed ta be rich..." the boy breathed.

"'m as rich as a king when I get ta hold ya, boy," Jack whispered, pressing another, firmer kiss to Tyler's blond, curly locks.

That was when the nurse sighed and waved Jack over to the bed. Time was up. Jack had to let the boy go back to sleep.

The most magical day of the year for so many six year olds in the world, and this one was about to be laid down in a hospital bed all over again, while his family stood there and wondered truly how long he had left.

The young New Yorker nodded as he made his way back over to the bed. And he lay his baby brother back down more gently than anything Joseph had ever seen. "Merry Christmas, my little angel..." Jack whispered as he lay him down.

That boy didn't waste a second. He sat up as quick as he could and wrapped his small arms as far as they could reach around his brother's waist. "Merry Christmas, my Jackie..." he responded with a crooked grin spread across his face.

Jack laughed and helped him lay back down. He began to sing all over again. A Christmas song this time. "I'm dreamin' of a white Christmas... just like the ones I used ta know..." He pet the child's hair as the machines were turned back on and the tubes and wires were replaced. "Where the tree tops glisten... and children listen... to hear sleigh bells in the snow..."

The boy turned his little head towards the touch and sighed in content, letting his protector sing him to sleep on Christmas Day.

And Pulitzer couldn't move.

"Spirit... that boy... he's going to die..." the man stated, knowing how these kinds of stories ended. He shook his head, turning back to the ghost that once took the form of a young woman. He gasped when he was met with the sight of a frail dame, much older than himself with those same chocolate brown eyes that the young female had once had. "Spirit?"

"It's about time I leave you, Joseph," the woman rasped, her hair turning whiter and whiter by the second, right before his very eyes. It was happening so quickly as the world around him spun. Suddenly he was back in his bedroom. His head whirled just as the universe had as he fell to his knees with a sort of nausea he'd never experienced before.

"Wait... Spirit..." he began to plead, truly unsure of why.

He was hunched over, gripping at his aching stomach. He blinked hard, trying to figure out what was happening. "What's happening to me?" He could vaguely hear someone screaming. When he closed his eyes again, he caught a glimpse of Jack Kelly, scooping up his baby brother, looking even smaller than he had mere seconds ago, tears rushing down his face as he ran out the door of a small, run down apartment.

Opening his eyes, Joseph felt tears in his own eyes. He looked up, wanting to beg the once kind, young soul for some sort of relief. But the old woman in front of him was much different than she had been only moments ago. Her once round, warm features were harsh and cold. Her eyes were angry.

He shook his head, frightened of this unfamiliar feeling of helplessness he felt. "I didn't know..."

"You didn't want to know. You were blinded by ignorance and greed," the spirit stated easily, scowling as it back away from him.

Breathing in deeply as the nausea subsided, Joe wearily blinked away the tears. "That child... is he going to die?" he asked, knowing the inevitable answer, but hoping there was something, anything he could do to prevent that dark future.

But that woman continued to grow older and older before him. "He'd be better to die and decrease the surplus population," she mocked. Her green ensemble began to fade and turn black.

"You mock me with my own words!" the old man cried. He didn't care what he'd said. He hadn't known. He had been a fool. He had been running a business.

A business he'd gladly give up if it meant keeping that precious child alive.

"Who are you to decide who lives and who dies?" the ghost spat. The room was growing dimmer as her light began to fade. "If these shadows remain unchanged, the child will die..."

Pulitzer blinked. The spirit was gone.

And the clock struck three.

Okay... this ghost is obvious... I mean... come on...

[shreddedparchment]

Parallel Pt.02

Heartbroken

11/18/2018

Pairing: Steve x Reader          Word Count: 2,674

Masterpost          Warnings: Angst, language

A/N: I’m in that head space when these new stories are kinda writing themselves. Anyway, I hope you like this little chapter. I mean, I cried? So...yeah...As always, if you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Nervous is how you feel the entire flight from Australia to Norway.

When you land, it's dusk and the horizon burns red orange as the sky above slowly shifts from deep purple to an inky black.

The color of the coming night reminds you of your face. Your black eye is pretty terrible to look at and you keep getting stares as you exit the small airport.

The next stop is a boat.

You miss being able to fly places yourself. This time of year, when fall is turning to winter, Norway’s biting cold shocks your system. You miss the warm Australian atmosphere, but you keep Thor in mind. Getting back to him is all that matters.

So, you steel yourself against the inconveniences of having to take a cab to your boat and then ride a boat for an hour in cold waters to get to the Lofoten Islands.

A sharp knock on the glass of the front viewport startles you. The kind and excited Norwegian boat Captain points to the left.

“Se! Sølvbyen!” He smiles a toothy grin.

You follow the indicated direction and your jaw drops. Slowly you rise and move to stand in the doorway that leads out to the deck.

New Asgard, this New Asgard, even in the fading twilight shines like a beautiful polished silver jewel nestled on tall green and white cliffs.

This New Asgard is at least ten times larger than the New Asgard you spent time in with Thor. His palace rises high into the sky, reflecting the stars and moonlight making the whole city look like an enchanted fairyland.

So different. It's all so different. How can it all be so much better for everyone else and not you?

The city falls from view as the boat approaches the base of the cliff and docks at a large station. There are tons of people disembarking off of small boats like your own, but a larger ship brings streams of excited Norwegians and tourists, all of them following the dock up towards a beautiful wood and steel staircase that leads up to a smaller station with what looks like elevators.

You look at the captain with a quizzical brow, “Why are there so many people?”

“De er her for feiringen.” He says with a small laugh, thinking you stupid for not knowing.

You quickly sift through the Norwegian you know, trying to translate in your head as fast as possible. “Feiring? Celebration? What celebration?”

The captain laughs at you, thinking you’re joking and waves you off.

You slowly limp off of the boat, drawing your jacket up higher around your white tee. Jeans and a tee were a terrible choice for Norway.

“Lykke til.” The captain calls out to you and you watch him pull out and sail back into the night.

With no other choice than to move with the crowd, you slowly follow the flow of the bodies that laugh and joke. It’s such a babble of languages that you can’t pick out one from another.

The queue at the elevators is long but moves quickly. You wait only ten minutes before you shove your way onto one of the large glass boxes, reinforced with steel and wood. This New Asgard is definitely much more well off than the small humble one you'd enjoyed with Thor.

You move straight to the back of the box and turn, carefully using your arms to block people from jostling you. Your ribs, as you had suspected are indeed broken, fractured actually which is not as bad but they still fucking hurt.

Funnily enough, it feels reminiscent of your first injuries at Avengers compound when the Shadow had attacked looking for the serum and you’d spent the following week limping around with a cane for an injured leg, broken ribs, and small cuts.

It feels strange that you seem to have almost the exact same injuries even though this is a much different reality.

“I hope they have lots of food. I’m starving.”

“Are you kidding? A celebration of this size? I doubt they’ll run out of anything. These Asgardians are really generous.”

You peek over the shoulder of an older lady on your left and spot two girls, no older than sixteen or so, giggling excitedly.

“Do you think we'll get to see him?” The blonde girl asks.

“Thor?” Asks the brunette. “Duh, it's his celebration.”

Your heart begins to pound at the mention of your husband and you quickly push your way closer to the two girls. The offended older woman in front of you gasps and pushes back slightly making your ribs burn.

“Personally, I hope I get a look at Loki…he’s so hot.” The brunette confesses.

The blonde glares at her friend. “Ew, Lisa, after what he did to New York how can you even stand to look at that creep?”

“Hey, people change.”

“Excuse me.” You swallow hard, eager to get some info on Thor.

The two girls turn to look at you, slightly surprised, the blonde still frowning about her friend's love for Loki.

“You said this celebration is for Thor? What exactly are they celebrating?” You ask, a small uncertain smile plastered on your beaten face.

The two girls exchange a long look as if they cannot believe that anyone who is here would not know what the Asgardians are celebrating.

As the elevator doors open and people begin to file out the blonde turns her gaze back to you looking slightly crestfallen.

“Its for Thor's engagement. He’s going to marry the Lady Sif.” The blonde sighs sadly.

Her words freeze you, you’re not here, where are you? Numbness fills your chest and once again you have no beating heart. This can’t be happening.

As the girls leave you to your numbness you watch as the brunette rubs the blonde's shoulder comforting her friend at the tragic loss of her crush.

Almost as if you’re floating, you drift out of the elevator and trudge painfully through the crowd.

Asgardians are lined up along the road from the elevators to welcome the tourists, but you don’t give them a glance. You're too busy trying to keep your shit together. You force yourself to move faster along the beautiful cobble road. Trying to ignore the pain as you pass street vendors in old wooden and stone type stalls to fit the Asgardian aesthetic. Lanterns light up the streets and music plays from almost every building giving the city a laid back, party vibe.

Laughter floats around you in harsh contrast to the agony you slowly feel is beginning to consume you.

You continue to follow the flow of the crowd. Asgard is massive and there are so many people everywhere. Is this the glory that Thor had spoken of? Was this the might of Asgard?

Slowly you begin to recognize the twists of the streets as the ones you walked so long ago with Thor and the people of Asgard. You turn right and pass the smithy you'd first seen on your visit with Thor. Then the school and then the Tavern. The door swings open and raucous laughter floats out intermixed with music and the clinking of steins.

You turn your eyes to Thor's palace as it grows closer and the crowd begins to get thicker until finally, about a hundred yards from the front stairs that Thor had once presented you to his people on, you find yourself unable to get closer.

You strain against the mixture of Asgardians and tourists trying to get a little higher to see but you're saved the trouble as Thor moves up a few steps before he stops and offers his hand to someone below and out of sight.

The sight of him hits you like the sharp bite of a snake. Its piercing and sudden and painful. But he’s still so beautiful. His hair is still short, and his beard is thick. His blue eyes sparkle as he waits for the person he beckons.

That should be you. He should be reaching for you.

A milky white hand moves up from the base of the stairs, reaching for Thor. The hand is followed by the regal form of an Asgardian woman with dark brown hair that falls in cascading waves along her back. Her dress is silver, floor-length, and matches the silver embellishments of Thor's new armor. Hair her is pinned back with beautiful shining opal berets to keep it from falling in her face.

She definitely looks the part of Thor's betrothed, much more than you ever did. It hurts, and you reach up to clutch at the base of your chest.

For a moment you can’t breathe. “No.”

Your whisper draws the attention of an Asgardian woman who turns to glare at you.

Stupid Midgardian woman objecting to Thor's marriage to a true Asgardian? How dare you?

But that’s where you belong. She's in your spot!

Thor takes her hand and wraps it around his left elbow and leads her up to stand at the top of the stairs so that everyone can look on his future bride.

He raises a hand, and everyone goes silent. Although music and laughter continues to flow in from the city behind you, here by the palace, the silence is heavy.

“Thank you all for coming to help me celebrate the choosing of my bride.” He looks at Sif, staring at her with an affection that makes your heart clench. “I am not exaggerating when I say that I have been quite blind for hundreds of years to the clarity that my own mother often expressed. Perfection was before me and I did not see it.”

“Better late than never.” Sif jokes, squeezing his arm.

Thor beams at her and it kills you. This can’t be happening.

“I have often wondered if I would ever find a woman strong enough to rule Asgard at my side and I am glad to say that I have finally found her. Sif, my friend and counsel…my Blossom, I am very happy to present you tonight as the future Queen of Asgard.”

Blossom? Blossom? Did he just call her…you let your gaze fall away from them as your heart shatters to pieces. Grief begins to consume you as you succumb to the agony that you not only lost Thor, but this seals any hope of ever getting your baby girl back.

You shut your eyes and don’t even feel the tears as they fall. As the crowd cheers around you, you turn your gaze back onto Thor’s smiling face and watch him lean down towards Sif's cheek to press a soft kiss. She shuts her eyes, the utter happiness she exudes chokes you. That should be you.

As you watch him happily love his new betrothed, your mind is suddenly filled with his words, spoken on a rooftop in Wakanda what feels ages ago.

“My love, I’m sure that even if we use the watch there must be a way to hold on to what we have. This love between us does not just disappear. And we can make this baby again.”

You'd known then that it would be impossible. It was a fool’s hope. You’d wanted to believe that you and Thor could weather any storm. That even if the universe separated you that somehow, you and he would find your way back to each other. You'd feared this outcome. You’d dreaded it. You'd had nightmares about it and here it is in shocking reality. Thor doesn’t care for you anymore. He’s moved on. Your baby girl is nothing but a blip in your own memory and as you think about her, tiny and perfect, kicking you from within, your face crumbles.

Thor suddenly turns to look over the crowd and for a terrifying moment, you feel like his eyes find you. For two seconds he stares in your direction. Embarrassment and pain drive your gaze down.

You wait a moment then chance a glance back up at him and Sif but they’re no longer standing by the stairs. They’re moving into the palace as the crowd begins to disperse around you to join the many small celebrations going on throughout the city.

You’re left standing in the middle of the road, alone and without hope, crying because what else can you do? You pass your hands over your stomach and your pain is renewed stronger.

With a quivering lip you look back up towards the palace doors and consider going up there and knocking on the damn door.

But doing that would require you have some hope and you don't.

If Thor really did spot you in the crowd and if he did recognize you, then he either doesn’t remember your life together or he doesn’t care.

Six months. Six blissful months before he left, that was all this version of you had. Without the Snap he has no reason to seek you out, just as you feared.

Suddenly a stout Asian man wearing dark red robes steps into your view.

You look up at the body's face and find Wong's furrowed brow staring down at you from the top of the stairs.

There's something off about his gaze however and you see the spark of recognition in his eyes.

Already embarrassed, you have no desire to be seen at the moment and you have the terrible idea that Wong might take you up to meet with Thor and at this particular moment when you’re just beginning the mourning of the husband and daughter you’ve lost, it's tantamount to torture to see him.

You turn quickly and move to head back towards the elevators so that you can get the hell off of this island.

You only get a few feet, thanks to your stupid leg and ribs, when orange sparks startle you into stopping. The orange sparks grow out and wide until they’re a clearly defined circle.

Through this circle you can see a large room with a large staircase and a large glass wall with rooms beyond. The room is mostly made of dark woods and the occasional brass embellishments, but you can also see comfortable red chairs, tables, and decorations like vases and statues.

None of the Asgardians seem to be paying the portal any mind. A few of the tourists look over with curiosity but go back to their celebrating after staring for a bit.

“Vex? You should not be here.” The accented voice comes from behind you.

You turn to look at Wong as he moves towards you, his eyes kinder bit still narrowed in confusion.

You quickly reach up to wipe at your tears as he closes the distance between you and stops with his hands on his hips.

“What did you just call me? How do you know that name?” You demand, hating the way hearing your old pseudonym fills you with what you’d just abandoned, hope.

“I am a Master of the Mystic Arts. I would not forget you easily. I’m sorry to say that others were not so lucky.” He’s talking about Thor.

Your eyes water again as you struggle with your aching heart.

“Why did you come here?” He opens his arms as he shrugs, struggling to understand your motives.

“I-I didn’t know that he was engaged.” You admit and feel your sorrow double as you finally say it aloud.

Wong sighs. “Come on, this is not a place for you anymore.”

His words cut you and you sob as you look over his shoulder at the palace doors. Betrayal courses through your body even though you know that Thor isn’t deliberately abandoning you. He just doesn’t remember ever loving you as much as he did.

“Come.” Wong places his hand on your shoulder and helps turn you back towards the portal.

As you limp through it and the portal begins to close, you watch as the palace doors open and with curiosity twisting his expression, Thor moves back out, watching as you and Wong disappear.

@until-theend-oftheline @jessieray98 @dsakita @coldfacedwarf @just-trying-to-survive-marvel @myfandomlife-blog @wishingforahome @theonelittleone @aireka-frnc @oursameoldlove @wintersoldierswhore @keithseabrook27 @jewelofwinter @markusstraya @sincerelytlh @rumoured-whispers @thehatredofshipprick @the-surviving-revolutionist @fairislesheets @mannls @moonlessnight14 @pandazlazykid @donner5822

[matchaball]

parallel lines

AN: Hello hello @convenientalias !! I am your secret santa this year! :D I saw that you particularly like canon-divergent fics and decided to go off on that and do a slow reveal between these dorks :') Hope you enjoy, and Merry Christmas!

Giant thanks to @mlsecretsanta for organizing this enormous event!

EDIT: I also must thank @ming85 5 billion times over for helping me out with this fic and for kicking my writer’s block square in the butt. You’re a star!! <3 

( AO3 )

1. they say, seeing is believing.

“Could you pass me the icing please?”

Adrien bends down close, melding his personal space with hers, but Marinette leans into it and hands him the bag of icing sugar lying beside the gingerbread house she’s decorating. Another time, she would have blushed uncontrollably at the way her fingers brush his, and she would have thought of literally nothing else for the next few glorious days moments.

Instead, she has to do everything in her power to not drop her gaze to where the breast pocket of his jacket lies beneath his apron. She can see the slight bump in the fabric anyway, out of the corner of her eye.

She’s seen him. The kwami.

The black cat kwami.

(She could’ve chalked up Adrien walking out of the same alleyway she saw Chat duck into after a particular harrowing akuma attack as a funny coincidence, but then the punchline came zooming out of his jacket pocket demanding cheese, and she knew.)

Which means…

Instead of decorating, Marinette leans back a little and openly watches Adrien as he concentrates on piping eyes and a mouth on the little fondant figure he’s sculpted. His tongue sticks out just the littlest bit, and his tousled hair glitters with the sugar that exploded over him from Tom greeting him with a great bear hug earlier.

It’s as subtle as a shift of light, but now that she knows what to look for, it’s as clear as day and night.

She sees Chat as clearly as she sees Adrien.

His eyes focus entirely on the task at hand, but her gaze seems to nudge at him until he looks up at her.

Marinette’s breath catches in her throat as those brilliant green eyes blink slowly at her.

(She wonders if she could make him purr.)

“Am I doing this right?” Adrien asks, a shy, uncertain smile growing on his face in light of her unwavering stare.

Another time, Marinette would have babbled to the ends of the earth to assure him he’s doing grape- no, gorgeous- no, great, and she likely would’ve knocked everything off the table in the process. But the bump in his jacket pocket is there, and he looks far too reserved for the friend, and partner, and so much more that she knows him to be to her so-

“It’s purr-fect,” Marinette declares, winking as she taps his nose. Like flicking a switch, Adrien’s face lights up with a familiar mischievous grin.

“It is, isn’t it,” he agrees with exaggerated pride as he holds up his handwork. One eye is smudged and the smile wobbles on one end, but the iced blue pigtails and pretty pink fondant outfit makes it undeniably Marinette. “I’m sure you could get bread-er if you didn’t loaf around so much.”

“Oh, you don’t want to start that with me,” Marinette smirks. “At the very yeast, save yourself or else you’ll be toast.”

Laughter blooms from her chest, as light and airy as cotton candy, and it grows ever bigger as Adrien seems to do a double take at the easy way she volleys puns back at him. He flounders for a moment, clearly teetering between bemusement and delight before relaxing into an easy smile she’s seen hundreds of times, framed in black leather and shared high up among the rooftops.

“Well,” Adrien sighs theatrically, “I guess that’s just the way the cookie crumbles then.”

Marinette’s hand instinctively stutters to her hip, her fingers searching for the tiny purse that cradles Tikki. Her too-loud laugh hastens to cover her transition to grabbing a fistful of chocolate chips on the table.

“Careful what you wish for!” Marinette teases.

It takes a second for Adrien to realize what she means, but a second is all she needs to launch said chocolate chips at him. Glee lances through his eyes before he lunges forward, mouth open and aimed at the delicious projectiles. A few bounce off his face, and more evade him still as they fly to land softly in his hair.

She flicks one more. He goes cross-eyed in his attempt to catch it- and luck lands it squarely on his waiting tongue.

They both freeze, absolute surprise mirroring across both their faces, before Marinette breaks it with a cheer. Adrien fist pumps into a dramatic victory pose and it’s pure Chat, through and through. Her willpower pushes down the natural instinct to fistbump him, and she settles for grinning broadly at him instead, sharing in the victory.

“That’s definitely my hardest accomplishment of the day,” Adrien laughs, his cheek puffing out as he sticks the chocolate chip to the side to suck on.

“Sculpting me definitely didn’t take you all day and was the easiest then, wasn’t it.”

“Piece of cake,” Adrien grins. “Actually more like, the icing on top of the cake.”

He gestures to the magnificent gingerbread house taking up most of the kitchen table. Its candy cane balcony and translucent sugar glass storefront windows makes it a close replica to the bakery and her home.

“I think the house is pretty much decorated,” Marinette decides, tilting her head in thought.

“Not quite,” Adrien insists. He hunches over his work and concentrates on adding the finishing touches, before straightening up and gently, carefully placing his little fondant figure up on the balcony. Fondant Marinette beams up at them with her icing sugar smile and glittering sprinkle eyes, perfectly framed by the gumdrop fairy lights strung along the gingerbread rooftop.

It’s technically complete, and yet…

“It’s missing one more thing,” Marinette declares. She scoops up some leftover fondant and briskly, expertly moulds them into the exact shape she wants. Her fingers fly as they collect icing sugar and sprinkles for decoration, and several heartbeats later, her creation comes to life between her hands.

She hesitates, then settles the little black cat next to her own sugar figurine on the balcony.

“There,” Marinette says, softly. “Done.”

A part of her, the cautious, logical part, clambers immediately for her to rewind and redo, because this felt about as subtle as a brick, but the larger part of her, the braver, curious part, looks up, and watches.

She spots the breath that catches in Adrien’s throat for just that split second, spots the bump in his breast pocket shift ever so slightly, and she wonders briefly if his heart is beating as fast as hers. He turns to look at her, green eyes focused thoughtfully, intensely on the open book of her face, reading between the lines. He looks for an answer she’s not sure she can give.

It’s a look Marinette’s seen before, when her Lucky Charm is cradled between her palms like a giant question mark waiting to be solved.

There’s always a split second, a terrifying, infinitely long second, where she’s not sure if she can do this- be the person with the answers, be the infallible superhero, be Ladybug. The fear is irrational, she knows that- and yet no matter how often the fear comes to seek the cracks in her confidence, it never lingers.

“Less a house now, I think,” Adrien says, a smile curling up to warm his expression into something soft, something hopeful, “and more a home.”

He sees her, and she believes.

2. they say, believing is knowing.  

Believing was never the problem, with Adrien.

It just happens to fall into his particular blend of trust and optimism. Why wouldn’t he believe that Hawkmoth will be defeated, that that they could have a white Christmas, that Plagg could potentially eat something other than Camembert?

Call him romantic, or foolish, or naive, but he likes to hope. And no matter how tiny the hope, he holds on and doesn’t let go.

Except he might have slightly miscalculated how much holding onto this particular hope could cost him.  

“Get out of the way, GET OUT OF THE WAY!” Marinette screams as she rockets towards him, arms flung out in a desperately futile attempt to balance herself. Her skates knife across the clear ice as she accelerates towards him like a furious, pink torpedo.

Adrien gracefully glides out of her path and snags her arm as she zooms by. She swings around his pivot like a yoyo until she’s safely reeled in and stopped within the bracket of his arms.

“This looks like the opposite of getting out of my way,” Marinette muffles into the blue of his scarf.

“You’re welcome,” Adrien laughs. He carefully moves back, never letting go of her mittened hands. “Ready to try again?”

A fierce, determined look flashes through Marinette’s eyes, and at her decisive nod, Adrien slowly begins skating backwards. Their linked hands tug Marinette forwards, and soon she’s wobbling along as he guides her across the rink.

It’s funny, how flipping across the rooftops of Paris as Ladybug is as natural as breathing, yet a simple layer of ice proves to be her ultimate downfall. It’s funny, how she can nail a pinpoint landing onto her balcony for a detransformation that he accidentally spots, yet the simple act of even turning her skates proves impossible without his help.

Adrien’s fingers tighten protectively, possessively over Marinette’s, and his heart is the one stuttering and tripping as Marinette glances up at him, cheeks pink from the cold, blue eyes sparkling from the lights strung around the rink, mouth stretched wide in a grin as they complete a full circuit without stumbling once.

Honestly, it’s a miracle he can still function around her now.

“Ok… I think I’m getting the hang of this,” Marinette says slowly as they begin to circle around once more. Her fingers squeeze his, then begins to untangle from his grasp.

“Are you sure?” Adrien asks, reluctant to let go.

“Yes,” she answers. A pause, then, “Maybe. Stay close… just in case.”

A worried knot within Adrien’s chest loosens at that, and this time he can let her go. He gracefully turns himself around so he’s by her side, and adjusts his pace to match hers. It takes a few minutes, but soon enough they’re mirroring each other, stroke by stroke across the glittering ice.

“Not bad, for someone who hasn’t skated since she was three,” Adrien teases as they maneuver around a pileup of kids and their pylon cones.

“I can start just fine,” Marinette protests. “Stopping…”

The mere thought has her wobbling dangerously for a heart-stopping moment. Adrien reacts before he can think, his hands shooting out to steady her to him. He doesn’t miss the way Marinette’s hands fly to the pocket of her peacoat, and he has to resist his curiosity to ask about her kwami.

“You’re gonna need steel-toed skates at this rate,” Marinette grumbles as she rights herself.

Adrien stumbles and covers it up with a loud laugh, because oh, the irony.

“I’ll wear them next time,” he promises with a wink, “just for you.”

Princess almost escapes at the tail end of his sentence but he catches himself just in time. The word lingers in his mouth, sweet as sugar, but a pause still seems to bubble up anyway in lieu of the endearment.

Marinette merely reaches up and taps his nose fondly. “Silly, they’re protection for you. It’d be just my luck if I skated over your toes or something equally horrifying.”

“Sounds more like my kind of luck,” Adrien chuckles, feeling Plagg shift in his pocket.

“Maybe we’ll find a balance, between the both of us,” Marinette laughs. Her skates catch upon a patch of rough ice and she lurches forward with a, “Oh n-”

“-ope, not today!” Adrien finishes as he catches her yet again and steadies her until she’s solidly upright. He laughs, long and loud, as she puffs her cheeks at him, amusement and exasperation mingling in her eyes. “Looks like we already balance each other out.”

“You’re being way too nice,” Marinette huffs. “I haven’t done anything except almost take you and everyone else out the whole time we’ve been out here.”

“You’re dazzling,” he counters confidently. The sentiment comes out a little more honest, a little more heartfelt than he’d intended, and Marinette’s cheeks go pink right alongside his at the compliment.

“...sounds like a challenge,” Marinette comments after a moment. The smile she sends him is pure Ladybug, confident and daring.

The grin he sends back is all Chat, with mischief curled in the corners. “Only if you can keep up.”

“Keep up?” Marinette laughs, tossing her head back. “You’re on.”

She digs her skates in, and flies, blowing right past awkward fumbling and into breathtaking speed. Adrien whoops as he pushes off after her. The wind whips by his cheeks and playfully ruffles his hair as they chase each other around and around, a dance they’ve done dozens, hundreds of times up among the rooftops and framed against the endless sky.

“You’re a natural!” Adrien laughs breathlessly as Marinette glides to a slow, panting stop.

“It’s easier when I’m with you,” Marinette grins. She shrieks as he pulls up next to her with a hard stop that sends ice shavings flying in a spray of glittering white. They catch the light, turning into wings, into butterflies, that perfectly frame the way her laugh rings through the air.

It’s such a little snapshot of a moment, but it’s extraordinary in that it’s theirs.

Adrien’s always believed in Ladybug, but believing in her twice- loving her twice- makes him know.

Marinette is better than hope; she is real.

3. they say...

“I thought we said no presents this year,” Ladybug says, eyeing the bright pink package held between Chat’s hands.

“We did,” Chat nodded blithely as he gestured to the sky blue bag dangling from Ladybug’s fingertips. “Clearly we’re both great at following rules.”

They only ever had one hard rule though- and evidently that had been too difficult to follow as well.

“Well,” Ladybug chuckles as she sits down at the edge of the rooftop and pats the space next to her for him. “At least we’re on the same page.”

“Always, My Lady,” Chat grins as he folds himself down next to her.

They sit in peaceful silence, enjoying the lingering smell of chestnuts and hot chocolate from the markets that were open earlier. Fairy lights still twinkle through the streets, illuminating the few couples and families out for a late night walk in the scant snow dusting the ground.

“Here,” Chat says softly as he nudges the pink box over. “Merry Christmas Bugaboo.”

“Merry Christmas Chat,” she smiles as she passes him her bag. “Are we opening them now?”

“Why not?”

For such a light suggestion, the air between them feels a little heavier, a little more loaded as they open their gifts.

Ladybug gasps in delight as a soft pink scarf winds around her hands. She immediately wraps it around her neck, sighing blissfully as the plush wool curls against her skin. It’s handmade: her fingers find the sporadic gaps and occasional lump in the scarf, finds the time and love infused in each stitch. She looks up to thank him when her hands find a little surprise.

At one end of the scarf is a small pocket. Not quite big enough for a pair of gloves, not quite small enough for anything better off in her purse.

But a perfect size for a kwami.

Paranoia freezes her on the spot, holds her thanks captive in her mouth, so she is utterly silent as she simply watches him unwrap his gift.

Chat makes quick work of the tissue paper stuffed in the bag, and draws out a sky blue beanie. He doesn’t need his night vision to see that the beanie is made from the same yarn his scarf is made out of, the scarf gifted to him on his birthday, allegedly by his father.

He knows better now; the carefully stitched signature at the edge of the scarf that he found shortly after receiving it tells him several truths. It’s Marinette, who made him the scarf, who made him feel remembered and welcomed and loved. It’s Marinette, who’s always been there for him, always.

The beanie rests carefully in his clawed hands, and he turns it over and over until the light gilds the fine thread stitching a tiny signature along the inside edge.

He looks up at her, a question in his eyes, and sees it mirrored in hers.

Do you know?

A breathless, weightless heartbeat passes and neither one of them moves first.

“I saw you.”

The words rush out of out Ladybug’s mouth and drops between them like a gauntlet. At Chat’s startled, wide-eyed look, she swallows and commits.

“I saw you,” she whispers, and the emphasis leaves no room as to what she means.

Chat’s ears prick forwards and he scoots closer to her, a gentle smile curling on his face in contrast to the tense furrow of disbelief wrinkling Ladybug’s brow. He picks up her challenge and turns it into an invitation.

“I had hoped it was you,” he admits, as openly honest as he can be in this strange teetering space they find themselves in. “Of everyone I know, I had hoped Ladybug would be you. You’re confident and so capable and so easy to love. I really do think you’re dazzling, with and without your Ladybug powers.”

“I don’t know how I thought you could be anyone else,” Ladybug whispers. The tension in her shoulders begins to unwind at his honesty, at his softness. “You’re always so kind. Talking to the akuma victims after we defeat them. Offering your umbrella to someone who snubbed you the whole day. Your heart’s always been the same.”

“My heart’s always been yours, my lady,” Chat murmurs. He takes a breath, and falls first. “Princess. Marinette.”

“Kitty,” she says, softly. Logic has her hesitating, but it’s the look in Chat’s eyes that has her falling after him. “Adrien.”

The revelation stuns them both into silence, but as a shy smile grows on Chat’s face, a similar one mirrors across Ladybug. They break out into nervous giggles, smoothing out into a familiar, comfortable ease.

“So where do we go from here?” Chat asks.

“Let’s… not go anywhere,” Ladybug decides, slowly. “There’s no rush, right?”

“No rush, no pressure,” Chat agrees as he tugs his beanie over his head. His cat ears poke up into the soft fabric, making the fit a little odd, but he beams so delightedly that it looks perfect anyway. “We have all the time in the world.”

Relief settles onto Ladybug’s shoulders, but she shouldn’t be surprised. In anything, everything, she’s never had to handle anything truly by herself. She’s never been alone.

She shifts until she can rest her head on his shoulder, and sighs softly as he wraps an arm around her waist, his head coming to rest on top of hers. They breathe, and accept, and hold on to each other as peace comes to blanket warmly over them.

To see, to believe, to know, has nothing on love.

“Hey,” Ladybug murmurs, “I’m glad it’s you.”

Chat chuckles, and turns to press a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m glad it’s you, too.”

[supernaturaldreamer]

BNHA Secret Santa

Merry Christmas, @unashamed-shipper​! I am your secret santa! I really hope you enjoy your gift and have a great Christmas and rest of your year! ^.^

I wrote an IzuOcha fanfiction for you! Uraraka is unable to spend the holidays with her family, so Izuku decides to spend the night of Christmas with her! I hope it has enough fluffy goodness for you! :) I also posted it on Ao3 if you would prefer to read it there, just click here.

And a big thank you to @bnhasecretsanta for setting this event up! I wish you happy holidays as well!

Christmas Cheer

Izuku took a deep breath, inhaling the cool, crisp air around him. Nervous energy cackled throughout his body, his heart picking up a beat. He tried shaking it out, but that only seemed to get his blood pumping rather than calm his nerves.

It was stupid to be nervous. He was just going to hang out with Uraraka, just like they always did. There was no need for him to feel nervous.

Just focus on something else.

He settled his emerald eyes on the door in front of him. Below the apartment number hung welcoming wreath, its pinecones and small, round ornaments lightly dusted in snow. In the middle of the wreath was a smiling Frosty the Snowman, holding a candy cane.

Izuku lifted his hand to knock on the door before him, hesitating. As much as he tried to convince himself, he knew that today was no ordinary day. The weight of Uraraka’s present that hid inside his jacket pocket served as a constant reminder. It was Christmas, and it was his first time spending Christmas with someone outside of his mother.

He was spending Christmas with a girl.

The girl he liked.

The thought alone had been enough to make his head spin and heart race, but now that he stood in front of her apartment door, the nerves had kicked into overdrive. His hands trembled, butterflies filled his stomach, and his heart beat fast in his chest. He was a mess, a nervous wreck.

His mind sent him into a panic, thoughts racing through his mind as he made a move to knock on her door and paused.

 “What if her parents found a way to visit her for Christmas? Maybe the roads cleared and they picked her up and she forgot to message me… Or if she is home, maybe she’ll think it’s too cold to go outside. Maybe she’ll hate the gift I got her and-“

“Deku?”

Izuku’s body straightened, his eyes snapping to attention. Uraraka stood before him, her chocolate brown eyes peering at him in concern. She donned a cream-colored sweater and black jeans with snow boots, a white and purple spotted hat covering her head, and a matching scarf covering her neck.

She tilted her head as she looked at him, her hat tipping in the direction. “Deku, are you okay?”

His eyes widened with horror as he realized he must have gone on a mumbling ramble in front of her. He covered his mouth with his hand as red creeped along his cheeks. He didn’t trust himself to speak in fear of stuttering and tripping over his words, so he simply nodded in answer.

He could tell she didn’t fully believe him, but she didn’t question it. Instead, she took a step backwards into her apartment, offering him a small smile. “All right. I’ll be right back; I just need to grab my jacket and we can head out.”

She shut the door, and Izuku blew out a breath of relief, dropping his hand from his mouth.

‘Calm down. It’s going to be fine. Just breathe,’ he reminded himself, taking a deep breath.

Uraraka emerged from her apartment a moment later, donning a salmon pink jacket and a bright smile just for him. The sight made his heart skip a beat, and it took him a moment to realize she had spoken.

“W-what was that?” he responded, shaking his head to focus on the conversation.

Uraraka narrowed her eyes at him, confused by his lack of focus. “I asked if you were ready to go?”

“O-oh! Yes, I am,” he responded, stepping forward. “J-just follow me.”

Around this time on Christmas, Izuku and his mother would be watching Christmas movies and cooking together. He originally had been planning on doing just that, but after receiving a call from a very upset Uraraka, he had changed plans.

Uraraka lived alone in her apartment for most of the school year, so for holidays she would travel home to her parents. This holiday, however, hadn’t worked out as planned for her. On the day she was supposed to travel home, a heavy blizzard had come through. And on the day her parents had planned to visit her, another wave of snow had fallen. Uraraka had called him in tears, unsure of what to do.

There hadn’t been much that he could do for her; it wasn’t as though he could teleport her to her parents, so he did the next best thing and volunteered to spend Christmas with her. He had been so nervous on the call that he’d nearly thrown up, but hearing the excitement in her voice had made it worth it. So, he had researched something for them to do and found a Christmas lights show in the city that they could go to.

The trip to the city took longer than expected, due to all of the traveling everyone was doing for Christmas. Even though the trip was long, it was still enjoyable thanks to Uraraka. She always had an abundance to say, always bringing up the positive aspects of the trip – “I’m so excited for the lights!” or “Even though we didn’t grab seats on the train, at least we still get to stand together!” – which kept a smile on Izuku’s face as they traversed through the city.

Once the two stepped off the train, it was a quick trek by foot until they hit the city park where the lighting would be. The air was chillier now, with an icy breeze cutting through as the two found a spot amongst the crowd awaiting the lighting, huddling close to each other.

The sun was beginning to set, streaks of pinks and orange lighting the sky beautifully. People milled around them, the smell of hot chocolate and coffee filling the air as the crowd chatted mindlessly amongst themselves. But even with all the bustle around them, Izuku felt as if he and Uraraka were the only ones in the world as they watched the sun set.

“Have you ever been to see the Christmas lighting before?” Uraraka asked suddenly, dragging Izuku from his thoughts.

He shook his head. “I’ve always wanted to, but my mom and I never made it.”

Her smile grew a little wider at that. “Then we’ll both experience this for the first time.”

That was what he’d been hoping for to make this night even more special. “Th-thank you for coming with me tonight,” he said, his cheeks flushing. “I-I really appreciate it…”

Uraraka giggled, her smiling brightening. “Thank you for inviting me, Deku!”

Izuku opened his mouth to say something else, but he paused when the world around them illuminated in lights of all colors. The Christmas tree overlooking the city went up in an array of red, green, blue, and white lights, the star on top glittering in white and red. Tinsel and ornaments of all sizes and colors decorated the tree, each reflecting the various colors of the Christmas lights.

The rest of the city around them lit up in color as well, breathing life into the dark, cold air as lights in purple, white, light and dark blue, red, pink, light and dark green, and yellow flashed on. Lights were strung along the trees, wound along the branches. Bushes were wound in lights, with figures of Rudolph, Frosty the Snowman, Santa Claus, the Grinch, even one of All Might, and other Christmas icons sticking out.

Music sounded a moment later, Carol of the Bells playing through speakers scattered around the park. As the music played, the lights around them began flashing in tune with the beat. At each beat, various lights would turn on and off, lighting up different parts of the park and leaving others in the dark for the briefest moments of time.

The sight was so enthralling, so unlike anything Izuku had seen before that his entire focus was on the show until the song ended. And as soon as the next song started up, the lights moved in tune with the music as well. It completely captured his attention until he moved to place his hands in his pockets and felt something hard.

The gift! The whole reason he brought Uraraka here! He had nearly forgotten about it all.

“U-um, U-Uraraka?” Izuku whispered, tearing his nervous gaze away from the lights and turning it to her. He stuck his hand in the pocket where her gift rested, fiddling with the box.

“Yes, Deku?” she responded, glancing at him, a soft smile on her face.

He pulled out the box, handing it to her with shaky hands. “I-I g-got you a present… M-Merry Christmas,” he stammered, a nervous smile working across his lips.

She peered at him in surprise, her eyes softening as she reached out to take the gift. “But Deku, I don’t have yours on hand,” she replied, her eyes glued to the small box.

He waved a dismissive hand; he couldn’t care less if she had a gift to give him or not. He just hoped that she would like what he got her. “I-it’s okay. P-please, open it.”

She wasted no time in unwrapping the box and opening the lid. When she saw the item inside, her eyes shone brightly, the Christmas lights reflecting within them as one hand covered her mouth.

“Deku,” she breathed, moving her hand from her mouth and to the box. She pulled out the charm bracelet, her chocolate brown eyes looking at him. “It’s beautiful…” She held it up in the light of the Christmas lights, her hand gingerly touching the two charms: a pink, sparkly UA and two purple stars touching one another.

His cheeks burned red as he opened his mouth to explain his thought process. “W-well, I-I figured since w-we met at UA a-and we g-go to school th-there, y-you might like a charm o-of it. A-and I-I know how much y-you like the stars. W-whenever I look up at the n-night sky I-I always think of you.” She always was so positive and radiated light, just as the star radiated light in the night sky. After a moment, his eyes widened and his cheeks grew redder at the comment, his flailing in front of him. “I-I mean, u-um, n-not in a-a creepy way!”

Uraraka giggled, her laughter ringing softly through the air, drowning out the chatter from the people around them, the clomping of the carriage rides, and the vocals of the carolers.

“Deku, calm down. It’s all right,” she said, trying to stifle her laughter.

“O-okay, b-but i-if you don’t like it, I-I can always exchange it f-for something else! I-I’m sure I kept a copy of the receipt somewhere…”

She shook her head. “That isn’t necessary. I love it.” She smiled earnestly, and Izuku thought he saw the faintest hint of a blush on her own cheeks. “Really, it’s so thoughtful and I love it.”

Deku took a deep breath before speaking again. “I-I also have another charm for it…”

“You do?”

He nodded. Offering her this charm was going to be the most difficult part of the night.  “B-but it d-depends on your answer to my next question…”

“What is it?” she inquired, raising an eyebrow.

He bit his lower lip, his heart slamming against his chest so hard that it thought it might leap out.

You can do this. You won’t know her answer until you ask.

“W-will y-you…” He took another deep breath, feeling nauseated from nerves. Why was this so difficult? It was a simple question, and yet this question brought a world of possibilities with it. He didn’t know what he would do if she rejected him. He didn’t want to think about it, honestly.

“U-Uraraka, w-will you… w-will you.... p-pleasegooutwithme?” he shouted, bowing and closing his eyes. His statement came out in a rush but he couldn’t help it; it felt as though it was the only way the words were going to come out.

He couldn’t see her, but Uraraka was blushing, her cheeks a bright pink. “W-what?”

Oh no, he had to repeat it? He tried again, stating his words more slowly. “W-will y-you g-go out w-with m-m-me? I-I mean, y-you don’t have to!” He stood up, flailing his arms once more, though he avoided eye contact. “I-I don’t w-want you t-to feel like y-you don’t h-have a ch-choice! I-I just-“

His words were cut off as arms wrapped around him, the feeling of fuzz tickling his chin. Startled, he tensed, bringing his emerald-eyed gaze downcast to see Uraraka hugging him. Well, he could only see her hat and a little of her hair since her face was buried in his chest.

She lifted her head, resting her chin on his chest as she met his gaze. The brightest smile lit her face, her cheeks pink, and her eyes glassy with tears as she replied, “Yes. I would love to go out with you, Deku.”

Relief washed over him, as he had been wracking his brain over how she would react to the question and how she would respond. He’d been so terrified of rejection that he almost hadn’t asked, but after hearing her answer tonight and feeling the immense amount of joy that he did, he was glad that he went through with it.

He finally returned her embrace, hugging her as tight as he could, the largest grin lighting his lips. Never in a million years had he imagined that a girl as beautiful and kind as Uraraka would like him or want to date him. It almost didn’t feel real, and for the briefest of moments, he hoped he wasn’t dreaming.

Uraraka broke the silence and pulled away a little, keeping her arms around him as she excitedly bounced in place. “So? What’s the other charm?” A sparkle of excitement gleamed in her eyes.

Izuku laughed for a moment, having temporarily forgotten about it. He had been too elated to hear her answer to remember the final part of her gift. He dug into one of his pockets and pulled out the charm of a Christmas tree.

“I-I figured this would always remind you of our first Christmas together,” he admitted, his cheeks as red as a tomato.

Uraraka removed her hands from his torso and opened her palms so he could drop the charm in her hands. She ran her fingers of the tree, smiling softly. “I love it. Thank you so much.”

“M-Merry Christmas, Uraraka.”

She glanced up at him, her hand closing over the charm as she moved to hug him once more. “Merry Christmas, Deku.”

[youstillmakemethehappiestman]

Memories

In counselling, I was told to close my eyes and think of a happy memory. Every time I did, I would tear up because that memory would lead to another sadder one. Hanging out with my cousin Angela while she drove her car, put make up on and had me changing gears lead to an image of seeing her dead in the hospital. Memory of eating sugar cane with my Gedo in Egypt lead to seeing him flatline after his liver failed. Taking selfies in our Paris AirBnb with the sparkling lights hugging each other made me think about where my life is right now.

It lead to the realisation that I have no happy memories where I am by myself. It’s always with another person. 

But the following is a list of my cheerful memories. Something to hold onto. To remind me and others that there is happiness in this life, and that there is time to make new ones together.

- Making creme caramel for the first time in Orange, burning the caramel part of it a couple of times before getting it right. It smelled amazing.  Eating the whole thing the next day and feeling like a fatty, but still enjoying it together. 

- Celebrating Jake’s birthday three times in one year. Seeing him blush.

- Our neighbours passing their daughter over the fence just so that they can have some quiet time. I remember the grass being really long and really green. I watched Frozen so many times that year, that I actually ended up liking it.

- Hanging out with Teddy when he was a puppy. His fur was so soft and his snoring so cute. 

- Playing Knack with my future. Her laughter when she would get attacked, and I would yell out “THAT’S MY WIFE!”

- Chilling in our room in Bali eating BOSSMAN burgers and Jalapeno poppers while watching Suits.

- Her face marvelling in the Hall of Mirrors at the Palace of Versailles. I knew in my heart that she would love that room.

- Visiting the chateaus, the Tintin one (that I only realised once we got there) and the beautiful Disney castle-eque one with the double spiral staircase that we had so much fun running up and down opposite each other. 

- Ham and cheese crepe that first morning in Paris.

- Looking through the kitchen window and seeing her play with Spot on the grass. I didn’t want to disturb but I could see the pure happiness in her face.

- Long drives with her singing songs and dancing. I can’t help but watch those videos on my phone.

- Alternating watching her then my favourite tv shows. I’m so proud when she makes references to Jack O’Neill. 

- Playing Animal Crossing together. I haven’t gone a day without playing it. It connects me to her. 

This list is by no means exhaustive or is meant to include everything. I miss her so much. I wish she could be here next to me.

I hope the future brings more memories. I can’t imagine a life without her. Sure, the trust is damaged. But I want to work on it, heal it, so that it is stronger than ever. 

Thus, I have gotten rid of the past. Completely and utterly. Removed. No hope in their mind of coming back. I was holding onto a memory that just wasn’t the same anymore. They no longer made me happy. They are gone. 

With my future in mind, I am sure of this:

Love is the only thing that is true.