#started with my parents in my head as a kid

[kathleenkatmary]

This is really is not by any means new. When I was a kid in the 1990s and early 2000s, I thought my family was middle class because my parents said we were. It wasn't until I was in my 20s that I realizes we were 'lower class' and always had been. And talking to my parents helped me realize that their thought process around the thing was a messy melange that even they didn't really seem to understand. When we talked about things like how they accept money from the nuns at the school my mom taught at to be able to afford Christmas gifts for my and my brother more than once and there were times when we were in real danger of losing the house, there did seem to be a very real awareness that, no, this was not the experience of a middle class family.

But when I asked them why they always said and acted like they were middle class, I got a mishmash of explanations. The financial situation of my dad's family was much worse when he was a kid, so he figured anything better than that was a class upgrade, and while my mom's family's situation when she was a child was better than ours, she didn't see our situation as that much worse, so she just kind of saw it as being on the same level. We always had food on the table and we never "worried" about stuff like that, even though sometimes it meant taking charity from the people my mom worked with, so it didn't seem right to them to act like we were in the "same situation" as people who did have to regularly worry about food. They bought a house, however falling apart it was, so how could they be lower class? And there was a lot more of that, that sort of "well, we still had these necessities, even if we had to struggle for them, so we can't really put ourselves on the same level as people who did" mindset.

And I noticed that even though they didn't explicitly say it, there seemed to be a lot of shame associated with the idea of being lower class. Which I don't think would come to a surprise to anyone, especially for people who was around in the 1980s and 1990s. As much as that sentiment that poverty is a personal failing is still alive and well today, it was so prevalent back then. That idea that if you were poor, if you were lower class, it was entirely because of the decisions you made, your own failings. Can't pay your rent or mortgage? Well, what did you do wrong to put yourself in that position? Can't afford to keep your kids fed? God, you're such a bad parent, why don't you make better choices that put your kids first?

And I don't think that lumping in better off middle class people in with the upper class is new either. Resentment toward people with more has always been a thing. And when you do have so little and you are seeing things through that resentment, it can be really easy to look at someone who has so much more than you and not really see the distinction between them and someone who is truly wealthy.

This loose grasp of class definitions, people assuming themselves to be middle class when they're not, and not being able to see the distinctions in wealth is by no means a new thing that's only just starting to happen with the younger generations. It's always been around, I just think that the shape it's taken has shifted with the way the culture has shifted. But that sort of "I have a roof over my head and I can feed myself so I must be middle class" mindset and the "those people have a lot more than I do so they're just as bad as the billionaires who are actively ruining our lives" ideas aren't new at all. It at least goes back to the baby boomers, and really, considering the stark class divides of the early 20th century, I'd wager that it probably goes back even before them.

And that makes sense, because it's clearly proven to be an effective method of the ruling class.

Ive noticed recently that my generation has... no concept of what the various economic classes actually are anymore. I talk to my friends and they genuinely say things like "at least i can afford a middle class lifestyle with this job because i dont need a roommate for my one bedroom apartment" and its like... oughh

You guys, middle class doesnt mean "a stable enough rented roof over your head," it means "a house you bought, a nice car or two, the ability to support a family, and take days off and vacations every year with income to spare for retirement savings and rainy days." If all you have is a rented apartment without a roommate and a used car, you're lower class. That's lower class.

And i cant help but wonder if this is why you get kids on tumblr lumping in doctors and actors into their "eat the rich" rhetoric: economic amnesia has blinded you to what the class divides actually are. The real middle class lifestyle has become so unattainable within a system that relies upon its existence that theyve convinced you that those who can still reach it are the elites while your extreme couponing to afford your groceries is the new normal.

[starlightkun]

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

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

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 20

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

“You too…”

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 21

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

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

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

“I’ll try,” you agreed.

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

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

You immediately videocalled your brother.

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

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

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

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

“I told you I was bringing a friend—”

“I know, I meant which one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s okay, you were busy.”

“I’m Jisung, by the way.”

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

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

“I’m Y/N.”

“I had guessed,” he quipped back.

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

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

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

“Nuh-uh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I mean, I don’t know—”

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

“Well—”

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

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

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

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

“When’s baseball season?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scowled at the back of his big head.

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

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

“Saw that too.”

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

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

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

“Well, Daegal is actually trained.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[soosoo: omfg the cia has nothing on u]

[soosoo: SPILL]

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

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

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

[soosoo: unfortunately]

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

[soosoo: attached image.]

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

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

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

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

[soosoo: always]

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

[soosoo: YOU WOULD????]

[you: but you’d have to pick one]

[soosoo: god i am not your strongest soldier]

[you: exactly what i thought]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sore loser!”

“Sore winner!”

“Anyway, holler if you need something.”

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

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly.

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

“Yeah, sounds good.”

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

“Huh? Who?”

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

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

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

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

“You seem to understand him really well.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You first.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Smells nice,” Jisung piped up.

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

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

“One or two?” Chenle asked abruptly.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

“Three?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Night!” Your brother echoed.

“Goodnight!” Jisung replied.

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

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

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

“But a nickname is so fun and mysterious!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 22

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

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

You grunted back.

“Mom called.”

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

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

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

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

“Are they staying for New Year’s?”

His silence was all the answer you needed.

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

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

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

“I’ll save your plate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fine, I’ve got the cider—”

“So do I.”

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think you’re pathetic.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Me too.”

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

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

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

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

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

Jisung smiled back. “Guess so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t know how,” you finished.

“I mean—Yes.”

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

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

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

“You did?”

“You’re in good hands, I promise.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, for what?”

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

“Just because or…?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So are we decorating the tree later?”

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

“Seriously?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, thank God.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you kill me anyway?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Got it. And what’s yours?”

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

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

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

He visibly relaxed. “Okay, good.”

“Are you okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Geek?” He repeated incredulously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It still gets software updates?”

“It just… gets possessed every so often.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I watch?”

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

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

“Sorry—Is this okay?”

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

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

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

“Hm?” You perked up a little.

“We need to do an exorcism.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MONDAY, DECEMBER 23

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

“You do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anyway, are you done?”

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

“Alright, hold on, I see you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 24

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You graciously accepted it, then looked at him expectantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm, mhm,” you agreed absentmindedly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“By ten months.”

“—about Jisung.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“One,” Chenle and Jisung answered unanimously.

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

“But—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do I need a suit for?”

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

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

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

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

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 25

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me neither.”

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hold on—”

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

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

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

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

“Wh—Oh. Really?”

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

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

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

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

“Really.”

Jisung glanced upwards, and you snickered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

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

“So it’s hardly a genuine invite.”

“And you know what his stepdad does?”

“What?”

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

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

He clicked his tongue. “Apparently not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 26

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think he was successful,” you snickered.

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

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

She paused, tilting her head. “Who?”

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

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

“I… don’t know? He plays baseball?”

“Oh. Hm.”

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

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

“Cybersecurity,” he rushed to answer.

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir,” Jisung replied.

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

“No, sir, I-I didn’t know that.”

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

“W-Well, uhm, I-I don’t—”

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

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

“Kim Beomjin, sir,” Jisung replied firmly.

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

“I was trying to get to know—”

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

“Alright. My apologies, Jisung.”

“It’s fine, sir, really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your parents seem nice,” he said quietly.

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

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

“Yeah, probably.”

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

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 31

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

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

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

The knocking came again, more insistent this time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why did you—”

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

“Foiled once more by empathy and kindness.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About?”

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

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

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

“Oh?”

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

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

He nodded hurriedly. “Yes, god.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon

TAGLIST

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

@classicroyalty @giirlfriendd @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01

@tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69

@winkeuu

[mxnhoo]

christmas love (s. jy)

✎ sim jaeyun x reader genre established relationship, christmas date, jake has a good relationship with reader's entire family, jake is SUCH a sweetie and gentleman, reader calls jake her husband, playing in the snow (snowball fight, snowman, snow angel), shopping, smacking ass, confession/words of affirmation (can you tell that i love writing this - ironic how my love language isnt even this), one bed trope, pure relationship, pet names, showering together with no intentions, opening up to each other for the first time, vulnerability, not proofread (will get it done soon i promise), lots of consent warnings like 1-2 suggestive jokes, not much tbh, vulnerability (?) word count 4.3k cly's note MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! i wanted to write something to gift yall for christmas, so i hope yall enjoy this! i'm like really proud of this. also i have plans coming up for the rest of the week so ill probably be inactive for a while, so enjoy my last writing for the meantime! happy holidays everyone~

now playing christmas love — stray kids "You make this Christmas red and white"

Ring!

The loud sound emerged from the front of your house, causing everyone's heads to shoot towards the same direction. Everyone had a puzzled face plastered across their face, and your little sister immediately looked at you. Who could it be, ringing your doorbell on Christmas Eve?

"Y/N, go get it!"

You looked at her puppy eyes and sighed in defeat, not having any chance to win against her, so you stood up on your feet and pushed your chair back, making your way to your front door. Twisting the knob, you opened the door and was met with a man.

Not just any man — your man.

Before you could even react, he shoved a bouquet filled with your favourite flowers for your face while exclaiming "Merry Christmas love!".

Your sister immediately started shouting and running towards the front door. "Is that Jakey?!"

You looked at him in surprise, him appearing at your front door with a bouquet filled with your favourite flowers and as you observed him longer, you realised he had his hair slicked up when it was usually covering his forehead and that he was in a dark blue denim jacket with a white shirt underneath.

"Baby- oh my gosh. What're you doing here?" you questioned, still feeling flabbergasted yet overjoyed at his appearance. "Aren't you supposed to be celebrating with your family?"

Your sister tugged on your shirt and when she realised it was indeed Jake, she exclaimed "Jakey!" and ran to hug him. Jake chuckled and patted your little sister's head with his free hand, looking at her with warm eyes.

"Hey little princess, happy to see me?" he smiled at your little sister and your little sister immediately started jumping. "Yes! Come on, spend Christmas with us!"

She started pulling his hand towards the kitchen table and you could only laugh at the warm sight of your little sister and boyfriend bonding together. He sneaked a glance at you and winked before your sister successfully dragged him to the kitchen table where your parents were. You sighed from how ecstatic you felt and closed the door behind you, following your boyfriend and sister back to the kitchen.

You were met with the sight of your parents and Jake laughing and talking to each other, and you could only lean against the wall and fold your arms while you cherished the view. "I know I came here very suddenly, but I'm not empty handed"

Your eyes immediately focused on Jake who seemed to have planned something, and you could see him immediately search for things in his sling bag. He took out 2 boxes, one square and the other a thin rectangle and handed it to your mom and dad respectfully.

Your mother spoke, "My-my, what is this- Oh my gosh!". Your eyes immediately flickered to her in curiousity, wondering what Jake got for your mother to cause her big reaction and she continued, "The necklace that I've always wanted! How did you know I wanted this?!".

"And the watch I've always wanted!" your dad added on.

Your jaw dropped at the gifts your parents had received. You had a gist of how much the things they received costed, and it was not cheap at all. Your parents immediately start thanking Jake and insisting they would pay him back but Jake refused and gave them his wishes.

"Me me! What about me?" your sister pouted, wishing that she had a gift too. He kneeled down to be eye-to-eye with her and patted her, "Do you think I forgot about you? I got you....". He stuck his hand into his sling bag again, and your sister's eyes lit up in hope, pressing her hands together like she was praying, and when he pulled out his gift for her, she screamed in joy and immediately took her gift.

"A new doll! Thank you Jakey!"

He only chuckled at how cute she looked and patted her again. You finally had to step in, wanting to get more answers from your boyfriend, like — why was he here? When did he even get these gifts? You stepped beside him and held his waist, wanting to ask to talk to him in private but he beat you to speaking first.

"My beautiful is here! Say, Ms L/N and Mr L/N, could I take your daughter out for Christmas?" he asked and your jaw immediately dropped.

"Of course you can! Go, take her, have fun!" your mom answered without hesitation, flicking her hand towards the two of you. Both of your heads turned to each other and while you had your jaw dropped, he grinned at you. After a second or two, he nodded and you finally processed everything that was happening.

"I'm not dressed up though.." you pouted and he shook his head. "It's okay, you look good in every way". He caressed your hair and you smiled warmly at him.

"Okay, give me 5 minutes," you requested and he nodded. You immediately went to your room and tried finding clothes to wear out for this very last-minute date.

This was the fastest 5 minutes of your life. The amount of clothes you've rummaged through and ended up on your bed was insane, and your makeup tools were all over your table since you had little to no time to clean it up. I mean, at least you looked decent with only 5 minutes of preperation?

You stepped out and saw Jake playing with your little sister in the living room, high-fiving each other, and as soon as he heard you step out, his head shot up and his eyes lit up. He gave you a cheeky smile, and he looked back at your sister, "Hey princess, I'm going to go on a date with your sister now, make sure you sleep early, kays?".

"I wanna go on a date with you too!" your sister whined and you giggled. He caressed her cheek, "Soon, okay? I'll bring your sister too and we'll buy everything you want, sounds good to you?".

Your sister held up her pinky and demanded, "Promise me now!". Jake heaved a sigh and twisted pinkies with her, "Promise".

When your sister and Jake was done, you approached him and kissed him on the cheek, leaving a faint kiss mark and his face grew to a light shade of pink, "Looking so beautiful as always".

He held onto your waist and the two of you walked to the kitchen where your parents were, and you announced that you two were about to leave.

"Take care, lovebirds!" your mom exclaimed. "I trust you Jaeyun, take care of our precious Y/N" your dad added on.

"I most definitely will, sir. So sorry for being last minute but I really wanted to surprise her," Jake responded, his tone sounding confident and you looked at him, your heart fluttering. He turned to you and caught you staring, but you just couldn't look away. He has always looked handsome, but tonight he just..

"Let's go now, baby?"

"Yeah..." you muttered, not realising how red your cheeks looked right now. You looked away and cleared your throat, "Mom, dad, we're going now — could you help me put the flowers in a vase?".

Your mom pushed you and Jake towards the door, "We got it covered, go, go! Don't wanna see you, have fun!". As soon as the two of you were out the door, you both looked at each other and beamed.

Laughter filled the air as you pushed your trolley, looking back as you saw Jake behind you, charging towards you. You continued running as if there was no tomorrow. "C'mere!" he exclaimed, hint of mischeviousness in his voice and you simply giggled, feeling the adrenaline as he chased you.

At one point of time, you'd abandoned your trolley and you managed to lose Jake. You were peeking over the shelf, trying to look out for Jake.

"Looking for me?" a voice emerged from the right side of your ear, and you immediately jumped, turning your head to the Jake who was leaning in to your right ear. "Gosh, you scared me!" you whined, hitting his chest and pouting and he simply stuck his tongue out, "Caught you".

After a few more playful rounds of running from each other, you two finally agreed to do proper Christmas shopping together, buying things suited for each other. You both placed stupid hats on each other, taking ugly photos and teasing each other.

"Say, that grinch mask really fits you~" you teased and immediately, he smacked your butt, causing you to jump. He wiggled his eyebrows mischeviously, "Wanna say that again?".

Holding an ice cream cup in your hand, you walked side-by-side with Jake. He held the plastic bag containing all the things you and him bought from the supermarket (he paid for it) and you held up a spoonful of ice cream towards his mouth.

"Ahh," you sounded as you gestured for him to open his mouth. He did as you said and opened his mouth, allowing you to feed him. You hummed in satisfaction and continued walking and as you looked up, you realised that there was a large Christmas tree in a distance. It was brightly lit with diverse colours and there were a lot of people crowding around it.

With your free hand, you held Jake's wrist. "We have to see that tree!" "Sure" was all he said before you hastily started dragging him towards the large tree, giggling in excitement as you start getting closer. As soon as the two of you were at the tree, you both looked up in awe from how big and beautiful it was.

In the corner of your eye, you started to see white particles in the air falling to the ground. You released Jake's wrist slowly and held your hand up, watching as a small white particle fell on your hand and melts. It's snow. It's snowing.

"No way, first snow!" you exclaimed and turned to Jake's direction. He looked as flabbergasted as you, eyes widened and mouth agape at the news. "No fucking way!" he gleed, feeling euphoric at the new experience.

"We have to build a snowman child and name it together!" he suggested and you could practically see stars in his eyes. You chuckled at how adorable he was, caressing his cheek and tilting your head as you stared at him with a loving gaze.

"Whatever you want, handsome, but we need to wait a while before the snow builds up".

And that is exactly what you did.

You two killed time by walking around the city and taking photos of each other, doing more Christmas shopping and even taking photobooth pictures together.

With both of your hands' interlocked, you both came across multiple food trucks selling hot food and you both couldn't resist at all. You both had agreed to get different foods so you two could share, and as Jake paid the food truck owner the money, his eyes immediately scanned the area for you.

He walked around, looking at different people and searching for you, but you weren't anywhere. He slowly started to grow nervous, biting his lip and walking around more frantically, a worried expression plastered across his face, and just as soon as he was about to call of for you, he spotted you.

You were squatting down at the corner, playing around and feeding food to kids that were giggling and surrounding you. "Do you have a husband?!" one of the kids exclaimed, giggling as you booped his nose with your finger.

You were caught off-guard by the question, a tint of pink colouring your cheeks as you smiled to yourself. "Husband? Sure, I guess you could say that".

Jake heard the whole conversation and felt his heart race at you calling him "husband". He practically froze and could hear his own heartbeat, biting his lip as he stared at you in awe. You could feel someone's gaze on you so you looked up and immediately locked eyes with him, giving him a reassuring smile.

"There's my husband, kids".

It was growing closer to midnight and enough snow finally piled up before you and Jake could play in the snow together. At this point of time, there wasn't a lot of people in the streets since it was almost late and in the area you and Jake were in, it was just the two of you and probably one to two other strangers.

You bent down to gather snow in your hands before you threw it towards Jake and he skillfully dodged, sticking his tongue out at you before he did the same and managed to successfully hit your arm.

"One hit means one kiss that you owe me!" he shouted and you gasped, feeling the competitive side of you coming out.

You both immediately started to shout and throw snowballs at each other, exclaiming and giggling when managing to hit the other, then when both of you grew tired, you both made 2 mini nose-less snowmans that you both named "Sim Jr" and "L/N Jr".

With your hands starting to freeze, you start to shiver and Jake immediately notices, wrapping his denim jacket around you without saying a word. "What about you? You're literally just in a shirt!" you said with concern as your eyebrows furrow upwards, "Aren't you cold?".

"I'm okay, love, don't worry about me," he caressed your head and placed a kiss on you forehead.

He sat down on the snow and wiggled his eyebrows for you to join him. You followed him and he layed down, the snow cushioning him. He started making a half snow angel and catching onto what he was doing, you laid beside him and completed his snow angel.

You two looked into each other's eyes then looked at the dark sky that was filled with so many white spots that lit up the darkness.

"I love being with you" he suddenly confessed, "More than you can ever imagine".

"Thank you for this day, Yunie," you scooched closer to him, seeking his warmth from the snow surrounding your bodies.

"Anything to see that smile on your face, love," he kissed your forehead.

And just when you thought you were going to go home, a snow storm started and the building that you and Jake hurried into was conveniently a hotel. Transporation had stopped, preventing from the two of you from returning home. Though it was unexpected, you weren't complaining that you could spend more time with him.

Sitting on the chairs in the lobby of the hotel, you messaged your parents and informed them of the situation.

y/n : @mama L/N @papa L/N i can't go home cos a snow storm started and transporation completely stopped..

You tapped your feet, nervously waiting for their reply and you received a new message.

mama L/N : Oh no! mama L/N : Jake is still with you right? mama L/N : Make sure you stay with him papa L/N : Take care.

You started typing a message

y/n : yup, we're in a hotel rn

You heard footsteps approaching you and as you turned your head upwards, you see Jake walking up to you. He raised his eyebrows at you and held the room card upwards, and you got up. The two of you start making way to your room.

You were starting to feel nervous, because although you were comfortable with your boyfriend, the thought about being alone with him in a hotel room makes you feel giddy. It felt more intimate than you wanted to be, and it made your heart pound harder.

As you stepped into the room, you're met with the welcoming cold air that blew into your face, and walked further into the room, you saw that there was only one bed. You unintensionally gasped and Jake, who was curious, followed behind you and followed your gaze.

"Ah shit, I didn't realise that this type of room only had one bed," he spoke and looked at you to see your reaction to the situation. Seeing that you were completely stunned, he panicked.

"H-hey, don't worry about it, I can sleep on the couch"

With blush creeping up to your cheeks, you turned to him and refused, "No!". Your refusal was louder than you'd anticipated and you cleared your throat, "I mean- no, i-it's okay, we can sleep together".

He approached you and held your waist, placing a peck on your cheek. "You can be honest Y/N".

"No! Really, I want to sleep with you" you sputtered out.

He had a mischevious look on his face which confused you, but when he started wiggling his eyebrows you understood what he thought of. "Not in that way!" you playfully smacked his chest.

The water was streaming out of the waterhead, falling down from your head to your body. You had this thought ever since you started dating, and you could feel your heart pounding as you debate whether you should ask him.

"Jake!"

Jake slightly opened the bathroom door but didn't come in. "Yes princess? Need anything?"

"Yeah.." "What do you need?" "Want you to shower with me..." you mumbled under your breath. "Did you say something?" "I said! I want you to shower with me"

You did it. You said it. You bit your lip, feeling nervous that he'd find your idea weird, or that he wouldn't want to. There was a moment of silence and you could hear your own heart beat. You were almost starting to regret asking the question until he spoke up.

"Are you okay if I come in right now?"

Your heart pounded faster at the thought of him seeing you bare. The fact that you were going to see him bare too was making your head spin.

"Y-yeah. Come in."

You hid behind the curtain. You heard the bathroom door open and click close. No words were said, and you could her ruffling of clothing. After a minute or two of ruffling sounds, he asked again. "Are you really sure about it? Showering with me?"

"I am, just.. come in," you nervously spat out.

You guarded yourself by covering your chest with your arms as you mentally prepared for him to take in the view of you being completely bare. As he pulled the curtain aside and stepped in, you puffed your cheeks and avoided eye contact.

"H-hey," he attempted in breaking the awkward atmosphere. "H-hi.." your voice went soft and you turned your back to him.

The water was only splashing on you, so he cleared his throat before coming closer to you and pressing himself on you. You gasped and jumped at the warmth and closeness, and he hesitated before placing his palms on your waist.

He reassured, "It's okay, it's just me". You remained frozen, your mind blank and you struggled to find words. "Can you look at me?"

You slowly turned around, still avoiding eye contact with him. "There".

"No, you're not looking". His hands moved away from your waist and he softly gripped your wrists, "First, you have to..". He slowly pulled your arms that was covering you, away, and your arms fell to yourself.

There was a moment of silence as you could feel him scanning your body. "You look absolutely gorgeous".

Your heart fluttered at his compliment, but you almost couldn't believe that he thought of you that way.

He added on, almost as if he could hear your thoughts, "I mean it".

You weakly smiled, still avoiding eye contact. He sighed and continued, "Second, you have to look at me". He cupped your jaw and slowly tilted your head upwards, your eyes finally meeting with his.

You stared into each other's eyes, and his eyes were filled with so much warmth. So much love. "See, that wasn't so hard now, was it?"

"Sorry.." you felt guilty for being so awkward when you were the one who initiated.

"Don't be sorry, silly," he flashed a warm smile before kissing your forehead. "Let's actually shower now, shall we?"

During the shower, it was mostly silent unlike how you two usually were — teasing and laughing together. This moment was different, and much more vulnerable than you could imagine.

"Hey, put your hair to one side," he asked softly.

You did as he said and he started to scrub your back carefully. Though no words were spoken, you and him grew closer and silently opened up to each other.

You sat in front of the mirror as he helped to blowdry and comb your hair. "Do you girls have to do this every single day?", he questioned as he continued to brush through your hair. By now, the awkward tension was still there, but was slowly fading.

"Yup, tiring right?". "Dang, yeah it is tiring" he commented. "But it is fun! So, if you want me to.. brush your hair for you like this, just call me, 'kay?".

You chuckled, "Okay".

You two were on the same bed and the awkward tension has returned, though it has significantly reduced. You had your back facing him, and even though you tried falling asleep, your mind was continuously racing. You'd assume that it was just you panicking and that he'd already fallen asleep.

"You still up?" he muttered, being careful to not be too loud to accidentally wake you up, but also to be audible enough for you to hear if you were conscious.

"Yeah." "What're you thinking about?"

You turned around and faced him. He was already staring at you, and you stared into his eyes but you couldn't read him. You didn't know what he was thinking.

You didn't know what to say, so you remained silent. "Are you thinking about me?"

Damn. Bingo.

"Yeah.." you shamelessly admitted.

"Me too. I'm thinking about a lot," he confessed, and it was the last thing you expected. "I want to do a lot, but I don't want to rush it".

You stayed quiet as you silently agreed with him. You almost felt relieved that you weren't the only one who felt nervous, the only one whose mind was racing with thoughts.

You mustered up the courage to ask. "Can.. I hug you to sleep?"

His expression softened as he heard your request and he immediately opened his arms, "You don't have to ask, c'mere".

You immediately scooched over to him into his embrace, and his arms wrapped around you perfectly. His hands rested on your back, gently patting you as he tried to coo you to sleep.

"I love you," you said.

There was a moment of silence, and you could feel Jake suddenly freeze around you. You felt nervous about how he'd respond and you bit your lip. He brought his hand up to your face and caressed your cheek.

"I love you too. So fucking much I could die".

Your heart fluttered and you almost felt like you were dreaming. You couldn't explain the emotions you were feeling, but all you knew was that you wish this moment wouldn't end. You wish that you'd be with Jake forever.

"Can I.. kiss you?" you requested again. He nodded, but before he could make any moves, you placed your lips on his, starting a passionate and loving kiss.

As you fluttered your eyes open, you are immediately met with the smell of freshly made food. It was sweet, and your mouth immediately watered. Your eyes scanned the room, and you could see Jake cooking something at the small kitchen the hotel room had. You pulled the covers away and silently made your way to him.

"Boo!" you scared him and he yelped while jumping. "Gosh! Don't scare me like that!" he exhaled as he realised it was only you. You giggled and ruffled his head. You wanted to tease him, but you looked over his shoulder and realised he was making pancakes.

"Pancakes?! How'd you get the ingredients?" "I went out to buy" "With all that snow outside?!" "Yeah, why not?"

You pouted your lips, feeling guilty for making him go through all of that.

"I know you love pancakes in the morning," he said as he continued to make the pancakes. Your heart melted at his thoughtfulness and you felt like he was a gift from God. He was all you could ever ask for and you couldn't imagine anyone else other than him.

"And I love you too," you pecked him cheekily before walking away towards the small dining table.

You could tell that he was quite stunned from what you did, because you heard footsteps following you. "What did you just do?"

"Kiss you," you turned to face him, seeing his redenned cheeks. Enjoying the view of his flustered state, you challenged "Want another one?".

Without hesiitation, he answered. "Yes".

An impressed expression took over your facial features and you looked around the room, almost missing the mistletoe that was conveniently hanging above the two of you.

You cleared your throat and approached him, cupping his cheeks before leaning in and closing the distance, clashing your lips together.

The two of you slowly kissed, taking your time to enjoy each other's warmth. His hands made its' way up to cup your cheeks, slightly tilting your head so he could kiss you better. The kiss was slow, yet you two had no problem following each other's pace. You sneaked your tongue in, causing him to hitch his breath, and he didn't put a fight against you. He allowed you to explore his mouth as much as you liked, and he started to smile during the kiss.

After a minute or two, you two pulled back because both of you were running out of air, and he held your waist, pulling you close. He looked at you with a warm and loving gaze as he tilted his head. You returned the expression to him, running your hand through his hair.

"Merry Christmas, Jake" "Merry Christmas, Y/N"

[zepskies]

Against the Wind - Part 3

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Merry Christmas! I'm dropping this chapter a day early for you guys. Now, here's the full story, and what Dean is going to do about it…

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, mentions of blood, hint of spice.~

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 3: Nothing Left to Burn

“We should start heading back,” you say, looking up at the mid-afternoon sky. It was starting to dip toward the top of the trees in the distance. “It’s going to take a couple of hours to get back before nightfall.”

“Yep, it’s about that time.” Your dad groans as he starts to haul himself back to his feet, where you two had been taking a rest against a tree. “Jesus, I need a new pair of knees. Help your old man, would ya?”

You smirk as you help the middle-aged alpha to his feet. His joints pop and his back cracks as he stretches his arms high.

“Damn, Dad. You’re creakier than the trees,” you quip.

He tosses you a wry look. “Just you wait. In a few years, after wrangling a couple of pups, you’re gonna feel my pain.”

“A few years?” you laugh. “Did I miss the part where I actually met a decent guy, let alone one worth mating?”

“Oh, you’ll find him,” your dad nods, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder. “Or he’ll find you, like your mother did with me.”

You follow his lead with your own rifle, falling into step with him through the forest clearing. It’s a beautiful day in late November. Already you can see the edge of frost on the shrubs and half-barren trees. The ground is littered with dead leaves painted in browns, oranges, and dappled with reds.

“You met her in college. It’s not like you guys defied fate,” you say.

“Yeah, but if she hadn’t walked into my psychology class by mistake, and stolen my latte at the campus café, maybe you wouldn’t be here,” he teases. 

You huff and roll your eyes. Yes, your parents are a walking cliché. And by far, your dad’s the bigger sap.

“I’m telling you. Sometimes, the universe does us a solid,” he says, reinforcing his point with a literal pointed finger your way. You push it away from your face in exasperation.

“You might wanna watch where you’re going,” you say, “before you roll your ankle on another pebble.”

“You kidding me?” he exclaims. “That thing was the size of my fist! You’re lucky I didn’t break an ankle. Make you carry me all the way back to the car.”

You snort. “Right. Think I’ll just leave you for the bears…”

You trail off when a sound reaches you and your father. The sound of leaves crunching in the underbrush, quick and light. Your father’s shoulders straighten with alertness, the alpha’s head cocking toward the sound.

“Maybe I spoke too soon about the bears,” you whisper. He shakes his head.

“Nah, too light. It’s probably an elk.” He tosses you a smile. “We’ll have one hell of a haul to bring home, plus a good story to tell your mom.”

Your mother, the vegan veterinarian?

“Yeah, because she loves elk meat.”

“Would you quit being a smartass for two minutes? You go a little west. I’ll see where it’s at,” he says.

He quietly wracks his rifle and steps away from the clearing, farther into the woods. You do what he says, veering west. You don’t see the elk, and soon enough, you don’t see your dad either. You do hear a whistling on the wind, and the cold of it cuts right through your coat.

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

“Go, get out of here!” he shouts and waves you off.

“What? What is it?!” you yell.

He shakes his head, like he’s unable to answer your question. “Run! Run and don’t stop!”

He moves further into the denser trees until you can no longer make him out. With a frustrated huff, you sprint down the hill and try to follow his tracks with your gun at the ready. On the wind, in the distance, you still hear his voice.

Until it cuts off abruptly, along with the terrible cracking of bone.

You gasp and halt in your steps. What the fuck was that?

Tears fill your eyes and blur your vision. Despite what you heard, you realize just how very alone you are in the clearing. Fear and adrenaline make your breath tremulous and shallow, but you can’t just give up. You search for a while longer, making yourself hoarse calling out to your father.

No matter what direction you take, you never find him.

“I ran back to town to get the rangers,” you say, brushing a couple of stray tears from your cheeks. You sniff, licking your lips and swallowing a hard lump of emotion in your throat.

Dean continues to listen intently with his brows furrowed.

“It was too late,” you sigh. “He disappeared. They explained it away, thought a grizzly bear got him, but I know it wasn’t a damn bear.” 

You shake your head as the tears come harder and faster, all over again. Dean’s jaw clenches in sympathy.

“No one believed me about what I heard, not even my mom,” you confess. Your mother had been too distraught to entertain “anything else.” No matter how strongly you’d felt about your suspicions, you understood that she just wanted to put your father’s death behind her after his funeral. Part of you had stopped believing yourself. 

A stronger part of you hadn’t been able to let it go, however. So you had to come back here and try to find any trace of your father. 

When you finally run out of words, you see the proverbial gears turning in Dean’s eyes. 

“What’re you thinking?” you hazard to ask. You can’t help but reach out and grab at his wrist. “Do you…do you believe me?”

Dean’s gaze softens a fraction. He lays his larger hand over yours.

“Yeah, I do,” he says. “I’m willing to bet on what took him too.”

He squeezes your hand before he lets you go and gets up from his seat. He soon returns with his father’s journal in hand. He reclaims his spot across from you, sitting close to your thigh on the end of the chaise. His gaze falls away from your face to the journal in hand, and he flips it open to a page he knows from memory. You suck in a subtle breath to steel yourself when he turns it toward you—to the very page that had given you nightmares the first night you read it. 

Wendigo. 

“Nasty son of a bitch,” he says. “It hibernates for decades at a time, but when it surfaces, it knows how to get through long winters like this. It takes a handful of people at a time, feeding on its victims slow.”

You feel sick at that, but still, his words elicit a sliver of hope.

“So there’s a chance he could still be alive,” you say, in a brighter voice. Dean gives you a measured look, dragging a hand over his mouth.

“Look, I’m gonna be straight with you,” he says. “It’s been months, right?”

You nod, though you realize what he’s saying. Don’t get your hopes up.

“But there’s a chance,” you insist, with tears in your eyes. Dean holds your gaze for a moment, and he nods. He squeezes your knee this time, then shuts the journal with one hand as he moves to stand.

You follow him on your crutches over to the kitchen. He pulls out a drawer and retrieves a folded-up map. Tossing the journal on the kitchen counter, he opens up the map and lays it out flat next to the sink. It’s a map of the mountain, and the entire forest surrounding the mountain of Big Sky. Dean’s eyes flick up to yours.

“Where did it happen?”

Dean has packed up his supplies and put on his winter gear. You watch him from the living room sofa, trying to hide your unease. You know he’s doing this for you, but there’s part of you that doesn’t want to see him leave, for his own sake, and selfishly for yours.

“Try not to go outside again unless you absolutely friggin’ have to,” he warns. “And if you do, don’t go too far. Make sure you take a weapon, preferably a gun and a knife.”

“Dean, I know,” you reply. You get up and hover by the couch while he finishes lacing his snowshoes and hooks his backpack on. You’re unable to hide your concern.

“You shouldn’t be going out there alone,” you say. 

Dean tosses you a grin. It has the shade of how he was with you before the “journal” incident—self-assured, a hint teasing.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t exactly my first solo mission,” he says, though his devil-may-care attitude soon subsides into something more serious. “If I’m not back inside a week, you need to ration out the supplies here as best you can. That new meat in the fridge should last you a while.”

By new meat, you have to assume he means the bear.

“When you’re healed up, you can make your way down the mountain and back to town with that map I left for you. Kitchen counter,” he says.

Your frown worsens. You step closer to him with the pretense of closing and locking the front door for him after he leaves.

“Dean,” you say, stopping him at the door. He turns to look at you over his shoulder. You hesitate, fidgeting slightly, but you gain your courage.

“If you don’t come back, I’m going to find you,” you warn him.

Dean frowns. He turns to you fully and tilts his head as if to say, come again?

“No, you’re not, Omega. You understand me?”

His terseness doesn’t scare you anymore. You glare up at him, quite literally standing your ground.

“You didn’t leave me out there when you didn’t even know me. You think I’d do that to you?” you counter.

At that, Dean has to pause, tilting his head slightly. He almost smiles at your stubbornness, and just like that, his annoyance dissipates. It softens him, making him reach for your arm in an assuring squeeze.

“I appreciate the thought, but trust me. I’d rather you look out for you,” he says.

Right now, you don’t really give a shit about what he’d rather, but you don’t say so. It’s written across your face anyway. Dean’s mouth tugs at a smile.

“All right, I’m out,” he says. “Save me some of Yogi in there.”

You huff, but you shut the door behind him after he steps out onto the porch, down the steps, and beyond. You move to the living room window and watch him get farther and farther away from the cabin. 

Despite the crackling fireplace, you begin to feel cold inside. 

After the first three days, you’ve managed to clean the entire cabin, top to bottom. With the “new meat,” you make a large batch of soup to last you throughout the week. You freeze a couple of servings for Dean.

For when he gets back. 

You try to fill up your time in other ways, like attempting, and failing, and trying again more successfully to make bread from scratch. You haven’t binge-watched every season of The Great British Bake-Off for nothing.

Then you organize all of the alpha’s books by author. You wash all the laundry you can find and fold everything neatly on his bed, and you put away the couple of sweaters you’ve borrowed from him into your own dresser. 

On Day Four, you create a nest of pillows and blankets in the middle of the living room floor. In your anxiety, it’s a reflex you can’t help. Your initial instinct was to nest in his room, but you thought that was too invasive of his privacy, so the living room was your next best option. At least his scent is still somewhat imbued into his favorite chair, and around his records. (You do steal another shirt of his to sleep with though.)

On Day 8, your worry becomes a living thing. You pace the living room and the kitchen on your crutches, probably wearing down the wooden ends of them while you debate what to do. Despite what Dean told you to do if he didn’t get back, you know you’re not just going to leave him out there. But the reality is, you have a problem of mobility.

With a frustrated huff, you decide to try setting your problem foot down normally. Your ankle hurts, a sharp pain shooting up your calf and nearly sending you to the floor.

“Fuck!” you gasp, both in shock and aggravation.

You know this isn’t just a sprain. At best it could be a fracture, since no bone is protruding under the skin. It still means you shouldn’t go after him either. 

But you’ll have to try. 

After you manage to clamber back onto your feet using the crutches, you put together some supplies, including the extra med kit in case he’s hurt. (Or in case something happens to you while you’re out there.) This is a bad idea, you think, even as you heave on your jacket.

Then, you hear the sound of a lock turning, before the front door shoves open. 

A yelp of surprise escapes you, though you soon realize that it’s Dean, looking worn down and ragged, but alive. 

“Home, sweet home,” he says wryly, but he looks relieved to see you too.

You help him sink down onto the chaise, where he stretches out with a groan. He tips his head back on the cushion. His jacket is torn in a few places. Blood has dried on his cheek, his neck, and near his hairline, and you worry about where else he might be hurt. 

You quickly go to the kitchen and pour a bowl of warm water and grab a hand towel. You bring it all back to Dean, where you set your supplies on the floor and sit down beside him on the cushion.

“Are you okay?” You try to calm down your racing heart (and the nauseous feeling in your stomach) as you help him work open his jacket, followed by his shirt. Discreetly, your eyes take in the expanse of his tanned skin and pebbling nipples exposed to the cool air, even with the fire roaring nearby.

“Yeah, just peachy,” he says. 

You smile a little. You take the towel, dampen it, and begin to clear the blood from his cheek, his neck, and the upper part of his torso—even his scuffed hands. Then you squeegee out the blood in the bowl and continue your task. Dean subtly watches you, his gaze a bit softer than usual.

He eventually looks you over with a frown as he takes in the way you’re dressed, and then the backpack by the door. 

“What, about to go for a little afternoon stroll?” His sarcasm turns to annoyance. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put until you can actually walk?”

Your mouth flattens into a line, but any anger you might’ve felt is waylaid by your relief. It brings tears to your eyes. 

“I thought something happened to you,” you say.

Dean hesitates. Your hand has stilled on his chest. He softens a little more, grasping your hand in his larger one. 

“I’m fine,” he says. “The job’s done.”

Your eyes widen. “You found the…thing? The wendigo?”

His mouth pulls at a cocky grin, tempered only by his tiredness, and the way he’s looking at you. “Sure did. Tried to take a chunk outta my ass, but a little aerosol deodorant and a lighter’s all you need to barbecue that ugly son of a bitch.”

You smile in amusement, but all too soon, it fades.

“Did you find my dad?” you ask.

Dean’s expression sobers as well.

“Yeah, I think so.” His face gentles. “Was he wearing a blue puffer jacket?”

Your lips tremble. As that horrible realization dawns, you break down into tears. You already know from his tone that your father was dead when he found him. 

Dean guides you down to him by your shoulder and wraps his arms around you. You bury your face into his neck, and your body shakes with quiet sobs.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your hair. “Believe me, I am.”

He holds you close, warm and secure. He allows you to stay there as long as you need, where you feel safe, even if this world has become a colder, darker place. 

After a few minutes longer, your intense sobs begin to subside. You don’t mean to, but you turn your nose into Dean’s neck, scenting him on reflex. It calms you down, but it has the unintended effect of arousing him. The alpha rumbles in pleasure. 

You blink in surprise and lean back enough to see his face. Dean’s lips press together as he looks down on you; he seems embarrassed, but you also see the heat reflected in his gaze, so intense in those forest greens. Your face begins to warm in a blush.

He brushes your cheek with his thumb, collecting your tears there. You glance down at his plush lips again, your own parting with a breath. His hand moves to cup your cheek, framing the side of your face. Please…

He finally drags you to him in a kiss. 

It’s heady and passionate, and also comforting. Your fingers wind into his hair, your nails scraping along his scalp. He growls as his arm tightens around your waist. You shiver in delight.

You press a hand to the center of his chest, giving you leverage to rise up and slide your thigh over his legs. There you sink into his lap. Your breasts pillow against his chest when you lay on top of him, your elbows digging into the cushion on either side of his head. His hands move down your body, feeling down your sides, squeezing your hips, and then your ass. You hum into his mouth and roll your hips into his. Already you feel him hardening through his jeans.  

But somehow he breaks away from your kiss, even though your hands are still in his hair. 

“Sorry…we can’t do this,” he says, with difficulty.

He sits upright and nearly makes you fall over in the process. He grabs your arm before you tip over, but he keeps himself at arm’s length from you after you’re forced to slide off his lap, sitting on the end of the chaise instead. Your eyes glisten with hurt and confusion. 

“Why?” is all you can ask.

He doesn’t want to answer. 

“Dean?” you ask, inching towards him. He raises a hand to keep you at bay.

“Just…it’s not a good idea, okay?” he says, with the clenching of his jaw.

That cuts into you even more. Your heart pulses with pain.

“Do you know what your scent is to me?” you ask, in a voice slightly trembling. You glance at the fireplace that has dimmed to embers. “It’s better than that fire at full blaze. Every time I went camping with my dad, that’s what I loved the most. Sitting by that fire, talking, laughing, and for the millionth time, telling the story of when I gave my sister micro bangs in her sleep when I was ten.”

You wipe a stray tear from your eye, but you respect the distance he’s put between you two.

“The second I met you, I knew what this was,” you say. “I think you know it too.”

Dean shakes his head. His face betrays his wariness, his desire, and his obstinance. 

“Look…even if that’s true, you don’t want this with me,” he says. His handsome face becomes marred by a frown, his brows knitting together. “I don’t even own this place. Besides my car, I ain’t got much of anything to give.”

You shake your head in dismay. “I know that’s not true.”

“I’m not bullshitting,” he says. “Listen…I’ve never had much. And what I did have, I found a way to lose. I’ve let my people down. Just about everyone I’ve ever…”

You can’t help but reach out a hand for him, your heart hurting, but he leans away, pressing himself back against the seat. It cuts even deeper into you; now though, you wonder if it’s because he feels the same gut feeling you do when he’s this close—close enough to touch, but almost afraid of the burn.

“They’ve been hurt, almost always because of me.” His voice shakes imperceptibly, with a wry, humorless turn of his lips. “So take it from me, sweetheart. You’ll wanna steer clear.”  

“Dean,” you say. You expel a breath, digesting his words, while thinking of what you want to say.

“I’ve never not felt safe with you,” you confess. “Even when I screwed up and drove you crazy, I’m sure, I knew you’d never hurt me. The same way I know…”

You reach out a tentative hand to lay in the center of his chest, over his heart. Your thumb brushes the edge of his strange tattoo, over the dark ink in his skin. 

“You’re my mate. My one, true mate in this world,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And I want to know you.”

You see inner conflict in the depths of Dean’s eyes, dark green and troubled. You take a chance and lean in, brushing your cheek against his, nuzzling, laying a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“Omega,” he warns, but the grit in his voice has little heat.

Or at least, it’s heat of a different kind, as his strong hands once again find your waist. They hold you still, but also hold you to him. Your gentle affection is making him ache, deep in the shadowy cavern of his chest. He’d never admit it, but loneliness had set in there, burrowed deep with a stronghold on his heart. Without knowing, you’ve been carving it out with those gentle hands. 

You now slide your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, warm palms on his skin. 

“Alpha, I want to know you,” you insist. Quiet, but steady, your voice is a mere brush of words near his ear, against his cheek. “Please.” 

Dean’s brows furrow as he briefly shuts his eyes tight. With your whispered plea, the brittle chain of his restraint finally snaps free. 

He cradles the back of your head and guides you back into a feverish kiss.

AN: Sorry to cut it off there lol, but the big (steamy) finale is coming up next week! Perhaps a little earlier than Friday. 😘

Next Time:

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return.

Read it now on Patreon!

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Series Masterlist

Jacklesverse Bingo Masterlist

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist 

Follow @zepskieswrites (with notifications on) to get notified every time I drop a new story or chapter. 💜

Dean Winchester Tag List

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl

@thebiggerbear @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @deans-spinster-witch

@deans-baby-momma @sanscas @kaleldobrev @spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@globetrotter28 @adoringanakin @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean @iprobablyshipit91

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @pieandmonsters

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @chernayawidow @mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @mxltifxnd0m

@my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof @samslvrgirl @tortureddarkstar

@tmb510 @syrma-sensei @artemys-ackles @malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester

@jc-winchester @charmed-asylum @fromcaintodean

[gingerteafairy]

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩 (𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

Rumors start flying at the Heffley's chaotic family dinner, and what was once just a joke turned into the realest thing you’ve ever had.

tags: fluff, no smut but it's suggestive, f!reader, christmas party. words: 1.4k

It was Christmas, and Rodrick Heffley kept banging on his drums like they were the only thing keeping him sane during that chaotic family dinner. Greg was off messing around with Rowley, and Rodrick couldn’t do a thing about it in the name of "holiday spirit." To make things worse, Heather Hills had rejected him two weeks before, and she was now a guest at the dinner. Meanwhile, his mom couldn’t stop dancing to those ridiculous Christmas songs, while his dad stood there, practically dying of embarrassment.

Sneaking through the door, you spotted Rodrick giving his best aggressive solo, admiring how talented—and pissed—he could be, just like the goofy kid he was. You knew him from music class, and you couldn’t help but fall in love with the way he played. You definitely had a thing for drummers—it was obvious with all the school crushes and band posters you had. But Rodrick was different. He wasn’t your average rockstar; he was a cute, emo boy trying to look dark and mysterious, and that made you smile.

"Escaping the party?" you asked, leaning against the doorframe, the clinking of plates filling the air.

Rodrick paused, lifting his hand to silence the drums. "What’d you say?" he asked, glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow, his ears still ringing from the loud music.

"Escaping the party?" You repeated, grinning as you stepped closer and plopped down on the small sofa in the garage.

"Yeah, that’s torture," he muttered, a half-smile tugging at his lips as he slid off his stool to sit next to you. The overwhelming scent of his cologne, too strong for someone his age, hit you like a wave. You tried not to wrinkle your nose.

"I agree. My parents won’t stop saying embarrassing stuff about me, and my little sister’s acting all sweet like she’s not the literal spawn of Satan," you said, rolling your eyes.

"Don’t you just hate that?" He chuckled, crossing his left leg and settling more comfortably on the couch. "Younger siblings…"

"It’s like their job," you laughed, adjusting your oversized sweater to make yourself more comfortable.

"How'd you escape the sweater curse?" you asked, genuinely curious.

Rodrick grinned proudly. "I told my mom that if I wore a sweater, I’d torture the guests with a live band performance and body odor." He leaned back, clearly pleased with himself.

"Ugh, I wish I could pull that off. I’m stuck wearing this ridiculous thing," you sighed, leaning your elbows on your knees and propping your chin in your hands.

To be honest, Rodrick thought you looked kinda cute in that sweater two sizes too big, but there was no way he was gonna admit that out loud. Pfft, a rockstar liking a sweater?

"I think you look cute," he whispered, breaking every rockstar rule just to get a smile out of you.

"Thanks," you replied, feeling your cheeks flush a little.

"Hey, how ‘bout we go to my room and listen to something that’s not this Santa nonsense?" Rodrick suggested, standing up abruptly. "I mean… if you want, of course. Not like it’s mandatory or anything. I don’t wanna force you to do anything…"

"I’m in." You grinned, standing up and stretching. "But, uh, how do we get past all those people?"

Rodrick rolled his eyes dramatically, a grin playing on his lips. "Pfft. Relax. I’ve got the perfect plan."

"And what’s this brilliant plan, Heffley?" You crossed your arms and tilted your head, raising an eyebrow.

"Simple. We run." He grabbed your hand and tugged you along, sprinting from the garage, through the living room, and up the main staircase, weaving through all the older relatives and kids in the room.

"Rodrick!" Susan shouted from across the room, causing you both to freeze mid-step, caught like deer in headlights.

"Great plan, huh?" you muttered, narrowing your eyes at him, turning to see Mrs. Heffley glaring at you both from the bottom of the stairs.

"What do you think you're…" She stopped mid-sentence, her gaze dropping to your joined hands, and a sly smile spread across her face.

"Oh, no. Mom, it’s not what you think," Rodrick stammered, quickly letting go of your hand to take a step down.

"Uh-huh." She held up a hand to stop him, her eyes flicking back and forth between you two, pausing to focus on how red your face had become. "I know exactly what my little darlings are up to. Why didn’t you tell me you brought your girlfriend for Christmas, Rodrick? This makes me so happy."

"Girlfriend?" You both said at the same time, exchanging a look.

"Everyone, come here! Greg, Manny, sweetie, I’ve got great news!" Susan called, skipping happily toward the living room.

"Let’s go," Rodrick said, practically dragging you down the hallway, slamming the door shut behind you both. He wedged a chair under the doorknob to make sure no one would burst in.

"Wow, I almost died back there," you laughed, placing a hand over your chest and walking backward until you collapsed onto his bed, your feet swinging off the side.

Rodrick ruffled his hair in a slightly awkward manner before lying down next to you, his long legs hanging off the side of the bed. "Damn, sorry about that... my mom..."

"It’s fine," you reassured him, glancing up at the ceiling. "She and my mom are probably still talking about it."

"Yeah. You being my girlfriend," he teased, rolling his eyes.

"Girlfriend. Can you imagine? What a joke," you laughed, staring at him, your gaze lingering on his dark eyeliner. His eyes were so beautiful, so expressive.

"It’s a joke. Girlfriend…" he repeated quietly, his gaze softening as he took in your face. You were so beautiful, so real, so...

Before he knew it, his lips were on yours in a desperate kiss, his hand finding its way to your waist, which you immediately responded to, your fingers tangled in his hair.

It felt perfectly right. His lips were soft, and you tasted just right. The way your bodies fit together, the way your tongues danced together, and how his hands knew exactly where to touch you. It was awkward, sure, but that was what made Rodrick special—everything he did was so real.

The kiss broke, and you both stared at each other, neither of you needing to say a word to know that you should have done this much sooner. But then, your laughter broke the silence, a burst of awkward giggles that filled the room.

"I’m such an idiot," Rodrick laughed, his body shaking with the movement, and you couldn’t help but laugh along. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket by the fire.

"You are. What even was that?" you said, still laughing, the sound echoing between you two.

"I don’t know. But I liked it," he admitted, stopping his laughter for a second to look into your eyes, his expression soft.

"I liked it too," you smiled, leaning in for another hug, the warmth of his embrace pulling you closer. "But I think we just made a rumor come true."

"Damn, it’s true," he muttered, biting his lip to stifle the next burst of laughter, which escaped when you smiled again. "How about we keep this rumor going for a bit, until we’re actually boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Rodrick Heffley wants to be my boyfriend?" You teased, and he couldn’t resist pinching your cheeks.

"Maybe," he replied, his voice a little unsure, but hoping for the best in return.

"I do too. Maybe. Want to be your girlfriend," you said, giving him a sly smile.

"Cool."

"But I think we should leave the room before we start another kind of rumor," you giggled, gesturing toward the door. "You know... that kind."

"I wouldn’t mind if the rumor was true," he teased, his gaze sweeping over you from head to toe before focusing on your mouth, and then your eyes.

"I wouldn’t mind either," you whispered, your eyes falling on his lips. And that was enough for Rodrick to do what he did best—go in for another kiss. That night, you both made sure to live up to all the Christmas rumors that might swirl around the table, especially when you came back wearing that worn-out sweater, messy hairstyle and Rodrick had eyeliner that clearly belonged to someone with a lot more experience. Yeah, for the first time, you were grateful rumors existed.

@bernardsbendystraws divider

@ikkyfics this one is for you honey

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Teen Villain Alliance

Chapter 7

Jazz had been against the Teen Villain Alliance. 

As proud as she felt for Danny creating a safe place for meta teens to go, it… it was still villainy. These were still kids, broken, strong, powerful kids, and the fact that so many of them fall into lives of crime was a tragedy. So the fact that Danny was explicitly allowing and even teaching these children to commit crimes… Words had been said. Loud, angry words that shook the walls with their rage.

Words that their parents didn’t hear all the way in the basement. As always too busy with their work to pay attention to their children–

Well. At the very least she made her feelings known. 

Armed with her best psychology textbooks and two years of Stanford classes, Jazz prepared for her greatest challenge yet: infiltrating a criminal organization. Run by her baby brother. 

It hadn’t been easy. After their argument, Danny had been keen to keep her away from his “project.” And Jazz couldn’t just suddenly pretend to be onboard with crime. Despite his low self-esteem, Danny was smart and definitely would figure out that she was faking. With Danny gray-rocking her and the mental health of all the children he could help at stake, Jazz did something drastic, something no one would ever expect of her and something that would horrify Danny. 

She transferred to Amity Park Community College and moved back home. 

Stanford hadn’t understood. Her new friends didn’t understand. Danny, spitting mad and accusing her of spying on him, didn’t understand. But with her less strenuous classes, and extra income from online counseling sessions, Jazz was able to track down their meeting places and help set up the Teen Villain Alliance. 

It had taken a long time to convince Danny that she wasn’t going to turn them in to the Justice League. That was her fault; she’d reacted viscerally to Danny’s pitch for the TVA and broken his trust. For someone already as untrusting as Danny, the fact that she even had it was the result of years of being there for him instead of their parents. 

Now, she was older. She’d gone back to Stanford after the TVA took off and started making a profit and gotten her degree. She spent days in the Ghost Zone looking after the kids that ran through the halls of her brother’s haunt. She held regular individual and group therapy session and was in charge of a whole slew of children who didn’t want to commit crimes–there weren’t many, but kids often took long breaks in between missions and she chose to count them among her number. 

It wasn’t an ideal life, nor was it one she could have prepared for, but it was hers. 

Returning to her warm and inviting office in Phantom’s Haunt, Jazz checked her itinerary. She had an interview with a new teacher: Red Hood, set to teach riflery. She checked his file; there hadn’t been many interactions between the Alliance and the rogue, but most of them were neutral, and his open desire to protect children made him a shoo in for the position. Damian had brought him to her attention when discussing potential allies with Danny, and Danny had handed the list off to her without a second thought. 

Her office, designed to look like the old-timey library of her dreams, lit up red as the clock struck 3 (in the afternoon, she wasn’t a heathen) and the automatic summoning circle flared to life. A rush of light spun around the interior of the circle, spinning and flickering until it fell back down, revealing… a normal man holding groceries. He promptly dropped them and pulled a gun on her, pointing it at Jazz’s head as he demanded to know where he was.

Jazz frowned. She suppose it made sense that Red Hood wouldn’t be in uniform 24/7, but she’d hoped to catch him while ‘on the clock.’ Oh well. “You’re in my office, Mr. Red Hood. Please don’t try to shoot me; the ecto-barrier will hold, and I’d rather not replace the carpet again.”

“The fuck are you talking about!?” Red Hood barked. He didn’t lower his weapon. Jazz made a note of it on her chart. “Who are you? How did you kidnap me!?”

“I’m Jasmine, human resources director of the Teen Villain Alliance. I’ve summoned you for an interview today.”

He looked out of his depth. Jazz could understand; most of the human instructors she hired  were (and one had been enraged by the idea that a villain organization had a human resources department). “Summoned? I’m not a fucking demon! What the hell are you even interviewing me for?”

“Field teacher on projectile weapons and pyrotechnics, Mr. Al Ghul. We need more teachers who can take the kids out to the human world, and–”

“What did you just call me?” Now he looked disturbed. 

“Mr. Al Ghul? Your name?” Jazz checked her documentation again. Jason Al Ghul was listed at the top under Name. “Your younger brother, Damian Al Ghul has recently joined our organization and recommended you… Are you not the Red Hood?” She reached under her desk where she kept an ectogun charged. 

The man tucked away his gun and held up his hands, eyes locked where Jazz’s hand held her pistol. “...Yeah, that’s me. So this is where Damian ran off to?” Jazz relaxed and let go of the ectogun. Red Hood tried to walk out of the summoning circle, only to bounce off an invisible wall. “What the hell?”

“Sorry, but I’ve had interviewees try to attack me before. It’s safer to keep you in the circle until an agreement has been reached.” Jazz turned to her interview questions. “Now, before we begin, do you have any questions for me? I’m sure this has been very confusing for you.”

“Yeah. What does a villain organization need teachers for anyways?” His eyes narrowed. “Thought all of your kids were already villains.”

“Most are, but most teens… well, they end up caught quickly unless an older villain teaches them. And those villains aren’t exactly someone we’d trust not to hurt them in a training environment. Our school–”

“You have a school? Why the fuck do you have a school!?”

She sighed. “Mr. Al Ghul. If you label a child a villain and give them no way to prove otherwise, no way to grow or change, what do you think they’ll become?”

“Lady, you’re literally trying to recruit me to teach kids to shoot people. Don’t you fucking try to convince me you’re trying to help them.”

“I learned to shoot when I was 4, long before anyone called me a villain.” Admittingly, she wasn’t, and still wasn’t, a good shot, but he didn’t need to know that. “Most of our students didn’t wake up one day and decide, ‘I want to be a villain.’ They were labeled that way by society, their families, even the heroes they tried to stand up to. Here, at least, they have a place to belong.”

“Where they’re committing crimes on Phantom’s orders!”

“Less than 10% of the Alliance actively commits crimes at any given moment.” Red Hood paused. “Of those, we only take volunteers, and only those who are physically and mentally capable end up in the field. Most of the teens just live here, go to school here, recover here. It’s a safe place.”

“...Kids shouldn’t be committing crimes.”

“Kids also shouldn’t be stopping them.” His fist clenched. “Labels like 'villain' and 'hero' are meaningless when you’re dealing with teenagers who’ve already been written off by society. The TVA isn’t about teaching kids to rob banks or take over the world. It’s about giving them a place where they can survive—and maybe even thrive—without being hunted or killed for the circumstances they were born into.”

“And you’re putting ‘em in school.” He huffed a laugh. “You really think algebra and english class are gonna help them? Fix them? Put ‘em back together after the heroes shat all over ‘em?”

She shook her head. “It’s not about fixing them. It’s about giving them a second chance, and, for many? The first safe home they’ve ever had. Now–” She straightened her papers. “If you’ll content to an interview, we can get started. But if you’ve already decided to reject our job offer…”

He studied her with his narrowed green eyes and scoffed. He sounded just like Damian. “Ask your questions,” he spat. “Get ‘em over with quick, I got perishables over here.”

Jazz smiled, fangs peeking out past her lower lip.

[steddieas-shegoes]

terrible twos

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'christmas'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated m | 702 words | cw: referenced sex | tags: established relationship, fluff, christmas cookies, the awful stage of toddlerhood that parents barely survive

2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣

“Daddy! Up!” Sawyer is making grabby hands at Eddie, and Eddie can’t do anything but give in. His hands may be busy rolling cookie dough, but there’s nothing that would stop him from holding his son.

The terrible twos hit early and they hit hard.

Steve insists Rory never had it quite like this, but at barely a year and a half old, Sawyer is always one ‘no’ away from a meltdown. He’s been very independent, and with that independence, he hasn’t wanted to be held unless he’s hurt.

If he’s asking to come up now, Eddie’s gonna do it.

“Cookie?” He asks and Eddie shakes his head.

“Not yet, little dude. It’s still gotta bake in the oven.”

Sawyer’s lip pouts out. “Peas?”

He hears Steve and Rory in the next room, probably playing NHL since that was the gift she wanted most this year. He won’t interrupt them, but Sawyer might if he starts screaming about not having a cookie.

“You can have the first one when it’s done cooking,” Eddie tries to appease him.

Not that he gives in at tantrums. Quite the opposite.

It’s just that it’s Christmas and Sawyer isn’t old enough to understand that he can’t eat raw cookie dough, so this tantrum would be kind of understandable.

“Daddy peas,” Sawyer says again, reaching for the dough on the counter. “Cookie mine?”

“You can pick which one you want when I cut them and you can have it as soon as it’s out of the oven,” Eddie allows. He hopes that’s enough,

“Cookie mine now?”

“Not now. In a tiny bit,” Eddie tries to distract him with the cookie cutters. “Pick a shape. We have Christmas trees…and candy canes…”

“Cookie!”

Eddie laughs, tries to keep his composure at what is surely escalating into a code red situation.

“It’ll be a cookie in any shape, silly goose. What about a nutcracker?” Eddie holds up the shape, but realizes it’s too late.

He’s lost.

“Down! Dada!” Sawyer is kicking his legs to get down and Eddie lets him. But he isn’t going to let him interrupt Steve’s time with Rory, not over this.

“How about a different treat?” Eddie tries, offering the first thing he sees: a piece of chocolate from someone’s stocking. “It’s got caramel!”

Sawyer pauses, thinks about it, shakes his head. His little curls bounce around almost comically as his face starts to get red.

“How about a candy cane?” Eddie offers instead, desperate.

“You wanna push buttons to shoot the puck?” Rory asks from the doorway, Steve right behind her with a knowing look.

“Shoot da puck? Sawyer shoot?” Sawyer asks, distracted enough that Eddie can breathe out.

God, having a toddler with the same temperament he had as a kid is hard. He feels like sending Wayne a fruit basket, maybe a blank check with his signature on it.

“Up!” He runs to Rory, who scoops him up and carries him to the living room, letting him babble mostly nonsensical things the entire way.

Eddie flops to the floor and looks up at Steve.

“How much longer until he’s a reasonable human?”

Steve snorts. “Could be days. Could be years.”

Steve joins him on the floor, reaching out to lace their fingers together. The sound of Sawyer cheering for Rory fills the house and Eddie smiles to himself.

“Did he at least pick a shape for his cookie?” Steve asks.

“Nope. And I don’t even think I have the energy to make them anymore.”

“You want some help?” Steve offers.

Eddie turns his head and watches Steve smirking up at the ceiling.

“Are you gonna make dick shapes when I’m not looking?”

“I’d never.”

Eddie squints his eyes at Steve. “You did last year. I had to shove it in my mouth so no one would see.”

“Don’t act like you’re not used to shoving a dick in your mouth,” Steve laughs.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Alright. Watch yourself. We’ve still got hours before anyone’s dick is in anyone’s mouth. And at least four dozen cookies to bake. And a toddler to control.”

Steve kisses him quickly, just a peck. A promise for later.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Steve says.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

[taojjang]

𐙚 babysitting with riize .ᐟ

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ advent calendar, day twenty-four! pairing: bf!riize x reader, genre: fluff! warnings: CHILDREN.

synopsis: riize reactions when you're suddenly put on babysitting duty during the holidays!

a/n: merry christmas eve !! i hope everyone is excited for tomorrow and i hope this week will be so amazing for all of u!!! this fic is less holiday-oriented but i thought this would be such a cute xmas eve gift 🥹🧡 enjoy!

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ୨୧

✩ shotaro ⸝⸝

・ loves babies!

・ taro absolutely jumps at the idea of babysitting your little brother for the holidays

・ the second he meets the toddler, he's already squealing at how adorable he is

・ it doesn't take long for him to start acting up :( but taro handles it shockingly well, telling him off with a gentle yet stern voice

・ takes him to go play in the snow to make up for it <3

・ your camera roll is filled with so many photos of them playing together and taking long naps after their tiring snowball fights :3

✩ eunseok ⸝⸝

・ oh he's been WAITING for this day.

・ dealing with a brother fifteen years younger than him, he's more than qualified to watch after your younger brother.

・ he prepares a bunch of food to cook for the boy, always asking him what he's craving

・ he's having the time of his life cooking while listening to your giggles and baby talk all the way from the kitchen <3

・ your heart melts seeing him blow on the food to make sure it doesn't hurt the baby and even feeds him while he's playing with his toy cars :(

・ he ends up getting along well with the boy and even asks you if he could babysit more often!

✩ sungchan ⸝⸝

・ "baby, do you mind if we babysit my s-" "yes."

・ the moment you mention babysitting your baby sister for the holidays, sungchan is already putting on his coat to go buy gifts for her :(

・ once he meets her, he is HEAD OVER HEELS.

・ this boy is such girl dad material :(

・ he showers her with gifts and happily watches her play with them, letting her test out the hair accessories on him just to see her having fun

・ your heart just can't contain seeing him with such an adoring look :( long story short you beg your parents to keep her with you for a little longer

✩ wonbin ⸝⸝

・ wonbin would be so anxious watching after your baby cousin </3

・ he'd constantly be fretting about whether the house is baby-proof enough, keeping his eye on her at all times in case she gets hurt

・ always asking you if you've fed her or showered her yet

・ seeing him so overwhelmed, you reassure him everything is alright and not to worry so much since you got it!

・ he takes a break while you play with her but he can't help coming back to watch u play with the baby so adorably >w<

・ once the baby's energy pipes down, wonbin takes her to the bedroom for naptime and you end up catching them cuddled up on your bed :((

✩ seunghan ⸝⸝

・ once you mention babysitting he's all YIPPIEEE! YAYYAY >W< yAYYY!! WAHOOOOO!!! XD

・ but on the contrary, you're stressing so much since you know your little brother is INSANE

・ hani reassures you he'll take care of everything and everything will go by just fine!

・ which surprisingly it does..!

・ your brother is surprisingly tamed when he plays with seunghan, calmly putting together puzzles while eating his favorite snacks

・ seeing hani get so giggly and affectionate with your baby brother makes you fall in love with him all over again </3

✩ sohee ⸝⸝

・ this baby knows nothing about taking care of kids!! save this boy!!!

・ as the youngest of his family, he's never taken care of kids much but of course he's down to help you babysit your little cousin!

・ but once he finds out that the boy likes video games he's SET

・ sits in front of the tv with him for hourssss just playing all the games he has on the console

・ but once you urge him to take time away from the tv, he obliges and shuts it off immediately

・ then seeing you set the dinner table for him and the boy makes him feel all warm inside </3 it gets so much worse seeing you feed him and pat him on the head with that pretty smile on your face... yeah he's got baby fever now!

✩ anton ⸝⸝

・ AHHHHH YOU NEED TO PUT A RING ON HIS FINGER

・ he doesn't hesitate whatsoever when agreeing to watch your baby cousin

・ you were worried since you'd be watching after an infant and carrying so many responsibilities, but toni has your back!

・ he'd always have the baby in his arms, gently cradling her and cooing little noises at her to make her smile <3

・ he wouldn't let you stress for even a second, always making you sit down whenever the baby cries and taking care of it himself

・ but once he sees you sitting by her crib and looking at her with such soft eyes, he's tearing up :(( begs you to keep her around a little longer

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ୨୧

a/n: sorry this one isn't a full fledged fic..! i thought headcannons would be so much cuter for this one so i hope you guys liked this! i'm so excited for tomorrow and i hope everyone has an amazing christmas!

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ tag list! (ask or comment to be added!)

@endtostartbreathin @gacktsa @hanninova @ramyeonzprincess @taroddori

[ghost-proofbaby]

Something my family always did was qe would open presents very carefully because we had to reuse wrapping paper (we were poor) and reuse bows. We didn't get much st Christmas but it always meant something to me as a kid. There were times my parents got nothing just so me and my sister could have something.

I can see Eddie being raised the same by Wayne

i absolutely agree with this. it was harder in my household since we always bought such cheap paper that ripped if we even breathed on it, but bows? always reuse. name tags? save them. any sort of gift bags? don't even think about throwing those away.

and i just... it's nice to think about Eddie being raised that way as well? like a sense of comfort in knowing he wouldn't give us a weird glance when we still do it, even if now we're not in the same position of necessity.

also, i can so clearly picture the first christmas where wayne does this, only his second christmas with eddie. and he's just downright scared. which is weird, because why is the weight in his chest turning so heavy at the thought of letting his nephew down? just this thirteen year old boy who's gone through hell, whose standards might just be six feet under. but it's all he can think about, all he can worry about, as he's wrapping up that damn guitar so carefully. eddie's only gift that year - the only item he'd even brought up in the last six months. and wayne had spent his entire check on it, no room left for frivolous wrapping or shiny new bows. wayne is reusing last year's paper, using an insane amount of tape he'd borrowed from a neighbor to patch up any and all tears his shaking hands make in his rush to wrap the guitar in time.

and you know what? eddie would notice.

make a small comment, saying "is this last year's paper?". and i can feel wayne's heart dropping as he waits for eddie to be upset but then the boy does this easy thing, something wayne watches him do many more times over the years, where he turns it into something positive.

"sick," he'd say, with a toothy grin and buzzed head, eyes genuinely shining as he looks up at wayne, "this paper is sick. i'm so glad you found it again this year."

wayne doesn't have to tell him to carefully unwrap the gift. because eddie wasn't stupid at thirteen, and he knew had to still his shaking hands just long enough to not leave a single extra tear in that paper, just in case wayne needs it next year. he doesn't mind - he's just glad to be celebrating the holidays again with someone who cares.

but it's all over when eddie sees that guitar. wayne expected shrieking or yelping or just... he doesn't really know, just anything. but all he sees is some kid with hair that's a little bit longer this year, shoulders a little less slumped, and tears pouring down.

"son-" he'd start, not even sure how to comfort the boy but needing to.

eddie does the last thing wayne had expected. the boy had been distant since showing up at the trailer, keeping to himself quite a bit, flinching away from touch. but for the first time in over a year, eddie doesn't flinch away.

he launches himself at wayne.

hugs him through his tears, just babbling out his thanks on repeat. they both agree to never talk about it again after the tears dry, and wayne even sheds a few of his own. but something melts that night for them - jokes happen easier, awkward side hugs and messing of eddie's blooming curls as wayne leaves for his shifts are more frequent. every damn day he hears him playing on that damn guitar, even without an amp. the next christmas wayne gets him the amp, another lonely present, wrapped in the same paper (probably for the final time -- it's seen far better days and he's pretty sure eddie could see the gift through one of the torn corners two days before christmas even came) and eddie once again makes a comment about how lucky it is wayne can still find that paper in stores. they both know the truth, and neither really care.

eddie keeps that guitar for the rest of his days, adorned with the nickname of Sweetheart. and they keep reusing paper, both knowing it was more than some bit but deciding to make jokes all the same as if they were actively choosing to do so. it makes it all a bit easier.

eddie doesn't care if wayne never has another dime to spend on another present for him, or can ever wrap another gift. he'll take his damn christmas presents in paper bags if it came down to it, cause the love is there, and god, he had missed that.

[lee-laurent]

Running For My Life -- Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke's gonna propose, Aria would rather runaway and change her identity

content: fear of abandonment, angst, fluff, kissing, implied smut but no explicit smut, arguing

wc: 6.5k

notes: another one from my list!! enjoy! and joyeux noël!!

Aria Carson didn't believe in fairytales or happy endings like her mom read to her as a kid. She used to, once. Before she understood what "happily ever after" really meant--it was a placeholder, a pretty bow slapped on a mess to make it look pretty.

Her parents' marriage unraveled when she was four. She didn't remember the details, just the shouting and the silence that followed. Her dad left their small house with a suitcase, and Aria watched from the window as he promised her mom he'd come by every weekend. He didn't. Not always.

At first, she waited. She sat on the front porch with her favourite stuffed animal tucked under her arm, staring down the driveway like it would summon his car. But over time, waiting turned into resenting, and resenting turned into expecting the worst.

By the time she was a teenager, she'd built a fortress around her heart. She wasn't the girl dreaming of love stories or matching tattoos with her high school sweetheart. Instead, she made rules--her own personal guide to relationships:

Rule #1: Keep it fun. (No big romantic gestures. No flowers, or candlelit dinners) Rule #2: Keep it light. (Don't share too much. Vulnerability is a weakness) Rule #3: Don't fall in love. Ever

The rules worked. Aria became the girl people warned their friends about--the one who could break hearts without blinking. Not because she wanted to, but because she knew what love turned into when the magic wore off.

That was the plan, anyway. Until her second year of university. Until Luke Hughes.

It started like most things in her life did: messy and impulsive. She'd been at a hockey house party, surrounded by sweaty college guys who thought Coors Light was peak luxury. The music was loud, the air thick with cheap cologne, and Aria had already turned down three awkward attempts at flirting when she spotted him.

Luke noticed her first.

She stood in the kitchen, laughing with her friends, tall and effortlessly confident, her dark hair seemed to shine every time she tossed it over her shoulder. She was wearing a Umich branded bikini top under a pair of blue-and-maize striped overalls, one of the straps hanging loosely at her side. Her tan skin glowed under the dim party lights, and Luke, clutching a red solo cup, couldn't help but stare.

"You've got no shot, man."

Luke turned, startled, to see one of the older guys on the team staring at him. It was Owen, one of his friends that seemed to have an opinion on everything.

"What?" Luke asked, blinking.

Owen nodded toward Aria. "Her. Don't even think about it."

Luke frowned. "Why not?"

"Because she's not the 'settling down' type," Owen said, leaning casually against the wall. "She's got rules. No attachments, no strings, no promises. Or something like that. She'll break your heart before you even know what hit you."

Luke glanced back at Aria, who was gesturing animatedly as she talked, her smile contagious.

"Well, I'm not looking for anything serious either," he said, shrugging.

Owen laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Sure, kid. Tell yourself that."

Luke rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stop watching her. There was something about her--so self-assured, so unbothered by the chaos around her. She looked like the kind of girl who lived by her own rules.

And Luke? He wasn't a rule breaker.

But as Aria's gaze flicked across the room and met his, he decided maybe he could break some... if he had to. Her eyes lingered on him, her lips curling into the faintest smirk, sending him a wink before she turned away.

"Yeah, good luck with that," Owen muttered, shaking his head as he walked off.

Luke didn't answer. He was already moving forward, his drink forgotten.

~~

Luke had lied. The second he spoke to Aria, his 'not looking for something serious' turned into 'finding the love of his life.'

And for three long weeks, he followed her around like a lost puppy, trying to prove himself.

"She's going to think you're obsessed," Dylan said one night, lounging on his bed with a Playstation controller in his hands.

"I'm not obsessed," Luke mumbled, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his laptop. He was supposed to be finishing his econ assignment, but his screen had been on the same blank document for the last twenty minutes.

"You showed up the coffee shop where she studies at 7:30 in the morning."

"I like coffee."

"You don't drink coffee."

Luke ignored him, slamming his laptop shut and flopping back onto the rug. "Do you think she's into me?" he asked, staring at the popcorn ceiling.

Dylan paused his game and shot him a look. "Dude, she hasn't said yes to a date yet."

"Yeah, but she hasn't said no, either."

"Sure, man. Keep telling yourself that."

Luke groaned, covering his face with his hands. He wasn't used to this--chasing someone, putting himself out there and not knowing if he'd actually get anywhere. Hockey game naturally. School? He worked at it, but it made sense. But Aria? She was a puzzle he couldn't solve, a challenge he wasn't sure he was winning.

And still, he wouldn't stop trying.

~~

Another win, another hockey party. And Luke had decided to shoot his shot... for the fifth time.

The house was packed with familiar faces, but Luke barely noticed anyone. His eyes found Aria the moment she walked in with her sorority sisters. She moved to the living room, leaning against the arm of the couch, her long legs stretched out in front of her. Her Umich themed outfit from last time had been replaced by a crop top and some jeans, but she looked just as hot.

"Dude, don't," Owen warned, grabbing his arm as Luke made his way over to her and her friends. "You're just embarrassing yourself at this point."

Luke shrugged him off. "Thanks for pep talk, Power."

Aria spotted him before he reached her, her friends giggling as her lips quirked up into a smirk.

"Hughes," she said, crossing her arms. "Should I be flattered or concerned that you managed to find me so quickly?"

"Flattered," he said, grinning. "Obviously."

Her friends snickered, and she rolled her eyes. "What'd'ya want?"

"A chance," he said, stepping closer. He thought he might've been having a heart attack but he forced himself to maintain eye contact. "One date. That's all I'm asking."

Her smile didn't falter, but something flickered in her expression--curiosity, maybe. She tilted her head, studying him like a math problem she hadn't quite yet solved.

"And what makes you think you've earned it?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. Her friends all watched on, shoving each other and whispering about the scene in front of them.

Luke grinned, feeling the same rush of adrenaline he got during games. "I haven't," he admitted. "But I'm hoping you'll give me one anyway."

Aria stared at him, her friends now on the edge of their seats. Then, to Luke's surprise, she laughed. It was soft, almost reluctant, not the same laugh he'd heard her make before.

"Fine," she said, shaking her head. "One date. But don't get your hopes up, Hughes."

Luke's grin only grew, and for the first time in weeks, he felt like he'd just won something.

~~

Aria had always been good at knowing when to leave.

Most people made it easy for her. They showed their flaws upfront, made mistakes she could cling to as excuses when things got too serious. But Luke was different. He didn't push her or make her feel guilty. He was patient in a way that should have made him boring but didn't.

And that scared her more than anything.

The first time she tried to end things, they'd been dating for a few months. The familiar itch started small but grew--like a whisper in the back of her mind, telling her it was time to go. Things were getting too serious. Too real.

It wasn't that Luke had done anything wrong. If anything, he'd done everything right, and that was the problem. He was steady, thoughtful, and maddeningly perfect. He talked about her like she was someone worth staying for, and Aria didn't know how to handle that.

She stood outside his dorm, her heart pounding as she rehearsed what she was going to say. It had to be quick and clean. No room for negotiation. Luke deserved someone who believed in forever, not someone who was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Taking in a deep breath, she knocked on the door.

"Come in!" Luke's voice called from inside.

When she pushed the door open, she was met with a sight that made her carefully rehearsed speech falter. Luke was cross-legged on the floor, a textbook open in front of him. Beside him was a bowl of her favourite food--mac and cheese with bread crumbs on the top--and a bottle of water balanced precariously on his notebook.

He looked up when she walked in, his face breaking into an easy, crooked smile. "Hey, you. Thought you might stop by."

The words she'd practiced seemed to vanish from her mind. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice quieter than she meant it to be.

"Studying," he said, gesturing to the mess of highlighters and notes around him. "And bribing you to take a break with me. You're way too hard on yourself, you know that?"

She blinked. "I--I didn't come here for food, Luke."

"Well, I'm not letting you leave until you eat," he said, reaching for the bowl and holding it out to her like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Aria stared at him, her stomach twisting. How could he be so calm? So sure? Didn't he realize that she was a flight risk?

"I was actually..." She trailed off, biting her lip.

Luke raised an eyebrow, waiting. He didn't pressure her, didn't say a word. He just... waited.

The silence stretched, and for a moment, Aria wanted to scream at him for making it so hard to walk away. But when she looked at him again--his hair falling into his eyes, his crooked grin he always wore--something inside her softened.

Her shoulders sagged, and she let out a long breath. "I hate you," she mumbled, grabbing the bowl from his hands and flopping down onto the floor beside him.

"No, you don't," Luke said, his smile growing as he nudged her shoulder.

She didn't. That was the problem.

~~

When Luke got the call-up to the Devils, everyone seemed to know what they were going to do next--except Aria.

He'd been drafted before they met, but that had always felt like a distant "someday." They were still in university, still figuring out their rhythm together, and for Aria, the future was an abstract concept she avoided at all costs.

But the day Luke walked into her apartment, his face lit up with an excitement he could barely contain, the abstract became real.

"I'm going to Jersey!" he said, his words slipping out in a rush. "They called me up!"

Her stomach dropped, but she forced a smile. "That's amazing, Lu."

His grin widened, and for a moment, she thought that would be the end of it. That he'd go, and she'd stay, and the distance between them would slowly untangle whatever they were building together. But then he looked at her, so full of hope, and said the words that made her panic:

"I want you to come with me."

She froze. "Luke, I--"

"Not right away," he added quickly. "I know you've got school and everything. But you could transfer or do classes online. Just think about it, okay?"

He kissed her before she could answer, and just like that, the conversation was over.

Aria thought about it--too much. She told herself it didn't make sense to uproot her life for someone who might not even be in it a year from now. But every time she tried to convince herself to stay, she imagined Luke walking off the ice in his red-and-black jersey, smiling at someone else the way he smiled at her.

So, she packed her things.

~~

Living in New Jersey wasn't as terrifying as she'd expected. She did her classes online, found a coffee shop she liked, and even learned to navigate the chaos of Preudential Center on game nights. Luke made it easy, too--he never pushed, never asked for more than she was ready to give.

But he kept dreaming out loud, and that was what scared her.

"One day," he said one night, his arm slung over her shoulders as they lay on the couch, "we should get a place with a big backyard. Enough room for a dog and, y'know, kids."

"You hate dogs."

He laughed. "Not the cute ones."

She forced a smile, but the room suddenly felt airless. "Yeah, maybe."

Luke didn't seem to notice her deflection, but Aria did. She always noticed. Every time he mentioned the future--a house, a family, a forever--she found herself scrambling for a way out of the conversation.

She wasn't ready for forever. She wasn't even sure she believed in it.

~~

The second time she almost ended things was when Luke invited her to Brady Tkachuk's wedding.

"End of the next month," he said, scrolling through the invitation on his phone. "Should be fun. My family will be there."

"Fun," Aria echoed.

"It'll be good for you to meet some of the guys and their wives," he added, glancing at her with an easy smile. "You'll love it."

She barely heard the rest of what he said. The word wives stuck in her head like a broken record, looping over and over until she thought she might scream.

What if Luke wanted that? What if he proposed one day? What if he asked her to be something more than she knew how to be?

She planned to end it the night before they left for the wedding. She sat in their apartment, rehearsing the words like she'd done before, feeling the familiar itch of escape crawling under her skin. But when Luke walked in, grinning and holding a garment bag with his suit inside, she blanked.

"Can you believe we're going to a wedding?" he asked, leaning down to kiss her. "I mean, Brady's getting married. That's like fucking insane."

He was so happy, so genuinely excited, that she couldn't bring herself to ruin it.

So, she didn't.

~~

The wedding was everything Luke had said it would be--beautiful, extravagent, and... absolutely terrifying. Aria spent most of the night nursing a flute of champagne, smiling at the right moments and avoiding any conversation about the future.

But then came the bouquet toss.

She hadn't planned to participate, but somehow she found herself dragged to the dance floor with the other women. Brady's wife stood in front of them, laughing as she prepared to throw the bouquet. Aria stayed near the back of the group, silently praying the flowers would land far, far away from her.

They didn't.

The bouquet soared through the air and landed squarely in her hands, the room erupting into cheers.

She froze, the flowers feeling heavier than they were. Her eyes darted to Luke, who was grinning at her from across the room, and her heart sank to her stomach. He looked so happy, so full of hope, and all she could think was, "What if this is what he wants? What if he expects this from me someday?"

Her hands shook as she set the bouquet down on a nearby table, slipping away before anyone could say anything.

Luke found her outside, sitting on the steps of the venue. The cool night air did little to calm her nerves, but she forced a smile when he sat down beside her.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

"Yeah," she lied, fidgeting with the hem of her dress. "Just needed some air. So many people."

Luke didn't press. He never did. Instead, he reached for her hand, his touch steady and grounding.

And for now, she believed that was enough.

~~

The lakehouse.

Aria had been before. She knew what she was getting into when Luke suggested they spend a few days there with Trevor and his brothers. She knew the loud nights filled with beer and laughter, the competitive games of cornhole on the back lawn, the way Jack and Trevor couldn't go more than an hour without arguing over something stupid.

She also knew the peace it offered--the calm mornings by the lake, the golden sunsets that made everything feeel simpler. But this time, the peace was harder to find.

Aria could feel it--something hanging in the air between herself and Luke. He'd been quieter than usual, more thoughtful, and every time he looked at her, it was with an expression she couldn't place, one she hadn't seen before.

She told herself she was imagining it, but her nerves didn't listen.

Which was how she ended up in her and Luke's room, rifling through drawers and suitcases in search of the phone charger Luke swore he'd packed.

"Where the hell is it?" she muttered under her breath, yanking open another drawer.

That's when she saw it.

A sleek black velvet box, tucked under a stack of folded t-shirts.

For a second, her brain didn't connect the dots. It was just a box, no different from any other forgotten thing people shoved into drawers. But as she reached for it, curiosity winning out, a sinking feeling bloomed in her chest.

She flipped it open.

The ring glistened in the soft light--a delicate, dainty, sparkling thing that looked as out of place in the lakehouse as it felt in her hands. Her breath hitched.

No. No, no, no.

Her hands started to shake, and she snapped the box shut, shoving it back into the drawer as though it burnt her.

Luke was going to propose.

The realization hit her like a slap.

She stumbled back, her heart pounding as the walls seemed to close in around her. He was going to ask her to marry him. To promise forever. To be everything she didn't know how to be.

Her phone was on the bed where she'd left it, and she snatched it with trembling hands.

"Hello?"

Her best friend's voice came through the line, muffled by the faint sound of music in the background.

"Hey," Aria said, her voice cracking. "D'you have a minute?"

"Ari? You okay?"

"No." She paced the small room, one hand gripping the phone and the other pressed to her forehead. "I'm not okay. I think--no, I know--Luke's going to propose."

The music cut off, replaced by silence. "Wait, what? How d'ya'know that?"

"I found the ring," she blurted. "It was in the drawer, just sitting there under some shirts like it's not the most terrifying thing I've ever seen in my life."

Her best friend let out a low whistle. "Wow. That's... huge."

"Yeah, no kidding," Aria snapped, before immediately softening. "Sorry. I'm just--I don't know what to do."

"Do you want to marry him?"

The question hung in the air. Aria's throat tightened. "I don't know. I mean, I love him, but..." She stopped, sinking onto the edge of the bed. "Forever is a long time. What if it doesn't work? What if I ruin everything?"

Her best friend sighed. "You guys have been together for two years. That's practically forever in your world. Doesn't that like count for something?"

"It's not the same," she whispered.

"Why not?"

"Because once it's official like that, it can all fall apart." Her grip on the phone tightened. "You don't get it. Forever isn't real. It's just a word people use until things go wrong."

"I think that you're overthinking this."

Aria let out a humourless laugh. "Of course I'm overthinking it. That's what I do."

"Okay, but have you considered not freaking out until he actually asks the question? Maybe he's not proposing yet. Maybe he's just, I don't know, planning ahead."

Planning ahead. It was such a Luke thing to do, and the thought only made her panic more. "I can't do this."

"You don't mean that."

"I think I do."

Her friend sighed again, but before she could say anything else, there was a knock at the door.

"Hey, Ari? Baby?" It was Luke's voice, muffled but unmistakable. "You okay in there?"

Her stomach dropped. "I have to go," she said quickly, hanging up before she could get a response.

Luke knocked again, and she scrambled to look put together, smoothing her hair and forcing a shaky smile onto her face as she opened the door.

"Hey! What's up, Lu?"

Luke frowned, looking between her and the room behind her. "I was just checking on you. You've been in here a while."

"Yeah, I was just...looking for the charger." She stepped forward, closing the door behind her and blocking the drawer from view. "Found it. All good now."

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't push. Instead, he reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We're gonna start the bonfire soon. Come join us?"

"Yeah," she said, her smile wavering. "I'll be right there."

Luke nodded, leaning in to kiss her cheek before heading back down the hall.

As soon as he was out of sight, Aria leaned back against the door, her whole body trembling.

She didn't know she was going to deal with this in the slightest.

~~

From the moment Aria found the ring, everything changed.

It wasn't intentional--at least, that's what she told herself. She wasn't actively trying to avoid Luke, not exactly. But the thought of being alone with him, of giving him the perfect opportunity to ask the question she wasn't ready to answer, made her chest feel tight.

So, she avoided.

Every time Luke suggested they go for a walk by the lake or watch a movie together, she found a way to include someone else. Jack and Quinn were easy distractions, always up for a game of pool or a boat ride. And Trevor? Trevor was a one-man circus, the kind of person who made it impossible to have a serious conversation.

"Hey, you guys wanna join us?" she'd ask casually, barely glancing at Luke as she extended the invitation to the group.

Luke didn't seem to mind at first. He loved his brothers, loved Trevor, and he didn't question why Aria suddenly wanted them around all the time. But the moments he tried to catch her alone grew more frequent.

"You sure you don't wanna skip the bonfire tonight?" he asked one evening, his hand brushing hers as they stood by the dock. "Just the two of us?"

Aria swallowed hard. "Come on, it'll be more fun with everyone there."

Luke's expression faltered, just for a second, but he nodded. "Yeah. Sure."

It wasn't just the group activities, either. She dodged every kiss, every touch that felt too intimate. She started turning her head at the last second when Luke leaned in, brushing her cheek instead of her lips.

And then there was the night he was sliding his hand under her t-shirt, pulling her closer, squeezing her thigh.

"Not tonight," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Luke froze, his forehead pressed against the back of her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just... tired."

He didn't argue, didn't push. He just rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling as Aria pretended to fall asleep. But she knew he wasn't convinced.

The next morning, Luke's patience finally cracked.

Aria was in the kitchen, fussing with the coffee maker and trying to act normal, when he came up behind her.

"Okay, what's going on?" he asked, his voice soft but firm.

"What do you mean?" she replied, not turning around.

"Don't do that." He stepped closer, his hand brushing her arm. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about."

"Luke, I--"

"You've been weird the last few days," he interrupted her, his brow furrowed. "You won't kiss me, you barely look at me, and I can't remember the last time we had a meaningful conversation. Did I... do something wrong?"

The hurt in his voice was like a punch to the gut, and Aria's chest tightened with guilt.

"No," she said, spinning around to face him. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"Then what is it?" His eyes searched hers, his worry plain as day. "Aria, talk to me. Please."

She opened her mouth, desperate to say something, anything that would fix the cracks forming between them. But the words got stuck in her throat. How was she supposed to tell him the truth? That she was terrified of the future he seemed so certain about? That she wasn't ready to be anyone's forever?

"I'm fine," she lied straight through her teeth. "Really."

Luke stared at her, sucking his teeth with a click. "Okay," he said finally, his tone carefully neutral. "If you say so."

But the look in his eyes said that he didn't believe her for a second. And Aria wondered if she was really about to lose him.

~~

The tension finally snapped on the third night.

Luke had given Aria space, hoping she'd come around, but her avoidance hadn't stopped. If anything, it got worse. She barely spoke to him, flinched every time he tried to touch her, and spent more time with his brothers and Trevor than with him.

It was after dinner when Luke cornered her in the living room, his frustration finally bubbling over.

"Aria, can we talk?" his tone was clipped.

She froze, her eyes darting between Quinn and Jack, who were setting up a game of cards. Trevor was flipping through TV channels, oblivious.

"Maybe later," she mumbled, turning toward the kitchen.

"No," Luke said, louder this time. "Not later. Now."

His voice cut through the room, drawing everyone's attention. Jack and Quinn exchanged a glance, their game forgotten, and Trevor paused mid-click.

Aria's stomach churned, but she nodded stiffly, brushing past Luke as she headed toward the hallway. He followed her into their room, shutting the door behind him.

"What the hell is going on with you?" he demanded, his voice low but full of frustration.

"Nothing," she said quickly, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

"Don't lie to me, Aria." He stepped closer, his eyes searching hers. "You've been acting like you don't even want to be here. Like you don't even want me around."

"That's not true."

"Then what is it?" His voice cracked, and the vulnerability made her feel sick. "Because I'm trying here, and you're shutting me out. You won't even fucking look at me."

"Luke, I--"

"Tell me the truth. Whatever it is, I can handle it. Just... talk to me."

The words spilled out before she could stop them.

"I'm scared, okay?" Her voice broke, and the emotion she'd been holding back for days came rushing to the surface. "I'm scared, and I don't know how to fix it."

"Scared of what?"

"Of this," she said, gesturing wildly between them. "Of us. Of the future you keep talking about like it's already written. I... found the ring. And I can't--I don't know how to be what you want me to be."

"I'm not asking you to be anything. I just want you."

"But what if I can't do forever?" Her voice rose, her fear spilling out unchecked. "What if I ruin it? What if you wake up one day and realize I'm not enough? Or worse, what if you leave? Just like my dad, or everyone else I've ever trusted?"

"Aria--"

"Don't," she said, cutting him off. "Don't tell me it's going to be okay, because it's not. Love isn't supposed to be a trap, Luke. And that's what marriage feels like. A trap I can't get out of."

His face crumpled, the weight of her words hitting him like a punch to the gut. "You think I'm trapping you?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "I don't know anything anymore."

For a moment, the room went silent except for the sound of their breathing.

Then Luke's voice broke the stillness, quiet but raw. "You're the only person I've ever wanted forever with, Aria. And you're standing here telling me that's a bad thing."

"I'm sorry," she choked out. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this."

Luke stared at her, heartbreak written across his face. "What does that mean?"

She didn't answer. She couldn't.

The door slammed behind her as she walked out, leaving Luke alone in the silence.

The others had heard the argument, of course. It wasn't like they had a choice.

Quinn and Jack exchanged tense glances as Aria hurried past them, her face pale and her eyes rimmed red. Trevor stood frozen by the couch, his remote forgotten.

No one stopped her as she grabbed her bag and slipped out the front door, her steps quick and unsteady.

Luke emerged a few minutes later, his expression hollow as he scanned the room. Jack opened his mouth to say something, but Quinn nudged him, shaking his head.

Luke didn't speak. He just walked out onto the porch, staring out at the dark lake as if the answers to all his questions were hidden somewhere in the still water.

And for the first time in their relationship, he wasn't sure if Aria was coming back.

~~

Aria didn't know where else to go.

After leaving the house, she drove aimlessly for hours, trying to clear her head. Eventually, she found herself pulling into the driveway of her childhood home. The porch light was on, casting a soft glow over the familiar brick exterior, and suddenly she felt like she could breathe again.

Her mom answered the door within seconds, her face softening when she saw Aria standing there with tear-streaked cheeks and a bag slung over her shoulder.

"Hi, Mama," she said, her voice trembling.

"Come in," her mom replied without hesitation, stepping aside.

They sat at the kitchen table, two mugs of tea between them. Aria stared down at her hands, tracing invisible patterns on the worn wood, while her mom watched her with patient eyes.

"Do you wanna tell me what happened?" her mom asked gently.

Aria hesitated, the words caught in her throat. But then the dam broke, and it all came pouring out--Luke, the ring, the argument, her fears. Everything.

When she finally stopped, her chest felt hollow, like she'd emptied out every thought and feeling she'd been holding inside.

Her mom took a long sip of her tea before setting the mug down with a soft click. "You're scared he's going to leave you," she said, not a question but a quiet truth.

Aria nodded, her eyes welling with tears again. "Everyone leaves eventually. Why would he be any different?"

Her mom reached across the table, covering Aria's hand with her own. "Because he's not your dad. And you're not me."

The words hit Aria like a jolt. "What?"

"I made mistakes, Aria," her mom said, her voice steady. "Your father and I...we didn't handle things the way we should have. And I know that left scars on you. But you can't let those scars dictate the rest of your life."

"But what if I screw up? What if I'm not enough for him?"

Her mom's grip tightened. "You're already enough. You always have been. Luke sees that, even if you don't. And from what you've told me, he's the kind of person who would move heaven and earth for you."

Aria looked away, the lump in her throat growing. "I'm just so scared."

"I know," her mom said softly. "But you're not me, Aria. You're your own person, with your own love story. And Luke? He sounds like the best thing that's ever happened to you."

The words settled over Aria like a blanket, heavy but comforting.

"He is," she whispered, her voice cracking. "And I'm running from him. I'm running from the one person who's never let me down."

"Then stop running."

~~

That night, Aria lay in her childhood bed, staring silently at the ceiling.

You're not me. You're your own person.

Luke loved her--not the idea of her, not the version she tried to present, but the messy, imperfect, scared girl underneath. And she loved him too. She loved him enough to fight for them, even if it meant facing her fears head-on.

For the first time, she let herself imaigne a future with him. Not the polished, idealized version he sometimes described, but one that was real. Messy. Flawed. And maybe, just maybe, perfect in its own way.

Aria knew what she had to do...

~~

Aria stepped out of the car, her heart pounding as she approached the door. The sound of laughter and music that normally spilled out of the lake house was missing, replaced by a heavy silence that made her stomach churn.

Jack was one who opened the door, his brow furrowing when he saw her. "Aria?"

"Is he here?"

Jack hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. "Yeah. He's out back."

Quinn appeared behind him, his expression unreadable. Trevor hovered awkwardly by the couch, uncharacteristically quiet.

"Thanks," Aria said, brushing past them and heading toward the sliding glass doors that led to the backyard.

Luke was on the dock, feet dangling over the water and his head bowed. He didn't look up when she approached, and it wasn't until she was only a few feet away that she realized how broken he looked.

His shoulders were hunched, his usually bright eyes dull and rimmed red. He looked smaller, like the weight of their fight had crushed him.

"Luke," she said, her voice cracking.

He didn't turn around.

She took a deep breath, stepping closer until she was standing right behind him. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so, so sorry."

He let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. "For what, Aria? For running? For not trusting me? For making me feel like I'm not enough?"

The words hit her like a slap, but she didn't flinch. She deserved them.

"All of it," she said, sinking to her knees beside him. "I was scared. I am scared. But it's not because of you. It's because of me. Because I don't know how to believe in something this good, this real. And instead of facing that, I hurt you."

His jaw ticked, but he didn't respond.

"I talked to my mom," she continued. "She told me I'm not her. That I don't have to let the past define me. And she's right. I've been so scared of losing you that I started pushing you away. But I don't want to do that anymore."

Finally, Luke turned to look at her, his eyes searching hers. "What are you saying, Aria?"

"I'm saying I'm ready," she said, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I'm ready to trust you. To trust us. I love you, Luke. I'm so in love with you. And I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if you let me."

His expression softened, the anger in his eyes replaced by something still raw, but full of love.

"Aria..." he let out a shaky breath, rubbing a hand over his face. "I love you too. But you hurt me. Like really fucking hurt me. And I... I need time to forgive you for that."

Her heart clenched, but she nodded, wiping her tears. "I understand. Take... take was much time as you need. I just... needed you to know."

He reached out, his finger brushing hers. "I still want forever with you, Aria. But when I ask you to marry me, I want it to be a moment we both remember for the right reasons. Not something rushed or overshadowed by all this."

She nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

For a while, they sat in silence, their hands loosely intertwined as the lake stretched out before them. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't a clean fix. Finally, Aria felt like they were on the same page, moving forward instead of apart.

~~

The apartment was quiet except for the soft hum of the TV. Aria was curled up in bed, her head resting on Luke's chest as the glow of the screen flickered across the room. They'd seen the movie before--it was one of Luke's favourites--but she barely paid attention, too comfortable and warm to care.

"This is the best part," Luke murmured, his arm tightening around her as the scene shifted.

"Mhm," Aria replied, half-asleep.

Luke chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

A few minutes later, he started to shift beneath her.

"Where are you going?" she mumbled, her eyes still closed.

"Be right back," he said, gently easing her off him.

Aria groaned, flopping dramatically onto her side. "But you're warm. And I still wanna cuddle."

Luke didn't answer, and when she opened her eyes, he was already out of bed. She frowned, glancing toward the bathroom, but the door was open and the lights were off.

"Luke?" she called, propping herself up on one elbow.

That's when she heard it--a soft, deliberate clearing of a throat. She turned toward the sound, and her breath caught.

Luke was kneeling on the floor beside her side of the bed, his hair slightly messy and his expression equal parts nervous and determined.

"Are you--" She sat up, her voice catching. "Are you serious right now?"

He grinned, pulling a small black velvet box out of his pocket. "I told you I'd surprise you, didn't I?"

Aria gasped, scrambling off the bed so quickly that the blanket got tangled around her legs. "Luke Hughes, if this is a joke, I swear--"

"It's not a joke," he said, his smile softening. "I love you, Aria. I've loved you since the day I laid eyes on you at that party. And I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else. I know forever scares you, but it doesn't scare me--not when it's with you."

Tears blurred her vision as he opened the box, revealing the same ring she'd found all those months ago. It sparkled in the light of the TV, but she couldn't look away from his face.

"So, Aria Carson," he continued, his voice steady despite how red his face had become. "Will you marry me?"

She didn't hesitate. "Yes," she said, her voice breaking as she threw her arms around him, nearly knocking him over. "Of course, yes."

Luke laughed, holding her tight as she buried her face in his shoulder. When she finally pulled back, he slipped the ring onto her finger, his hands trembling slightly.

It fit perfectly.

Aria stared at it for a moment before letting out a soft, incredulous laugh. "You proposed to me when I'm dressed like this?" she gestured to the boxers and t-shirt she'd stolen from him.

Luke smirked, hands gripping her waist. "I told you I wanted it to be unexpected. And this seemed like the least likely moment."

She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn't waver. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"And you love my anyway," he leaned down to kiss her.

"I do," she whispered against his lips.

As they sank back onto the bed, the movie forgotten and her fears finally gone, Aria realized she'd never been more certain of anything in her life. And neither had Luke.

[kingqueensoobscene]

you got it boss!! I wrote this as a romantic Scout x reader, hope that’s ok!!

Dad!Scout x reader

SPOILERS

-if this is a romantic relationship, He was hesitant to have you meet his kids at first. Hell, he doesn’t even tell you about them at first! He has been divorced three times. So he wants someone who will actually take care of his children and care about them like he does. -You find out when Jeremy mentions “his girls having a mean swing” when it came to baseball. You were shocked to say the least. He quickly explains and DOES NOT apologize for not telling you about a month into this relationship. But he will show you photographs of his children playing with their toys, swimming, visiting Santa. -Once there is commitment, Jeremy slowly breaks it to his children. He explains that he is in love with someone and that he does not expect them to view his partner as their own parent. He is really nervous about this, he is used to raising them alone. He doesn’t not want them to get attached to someone who might not be a good caretaker.

-It was a cold winter night. He invited you over for dinner to meet them. You immediately heard sounds of squealing and giggling all about once you entered the house. Lights and paper decorations along the walls and any thing that could be wrapped with lights. The pattering feet of the big eyed, brown haired girl stopped in front of you. You put your hands behind your back. “Are you Daddy’s new partner?” She asked, looking blankly. “Yes, sweetie. You must be the little princess I’ve heard all about.” You smiled at her.

She flashed her teeth and giggled. “I’m a princess assassin.” -You we’re already going to love them.

Scout came in quickly with a bit of sweat on his forehead. “Oookay, honey, why don’t you find your brothers and sister and tell em to help set the table.”

“Ok, daddy!” She ran into the living room to my left.

-To be honest, Jeremy would never be embarrassed of his kids and encourage them to be who they are. But he really is nervous of scaring you away tonight.

-“He-e-y, sweet’art!” He kissed your cheek, then looked down at your hands. “I just started the chicken.”

-He lead you to the kitchen by hand.

“So, Tanya is a Princess and an assassin?” You mused.

Jeremy is gripping the counter. “Heh, yeah, that’s my girl!”

“I mean, of course, she’s your daughter, dummy.” You playfully punched his shoulder.

He just exhaled internally, air in his stomach. “Oh, sooo, you do like em, right?”

He grimanced.

“Of course I do! Why wouldn’t I?” This man could collapse, he is so overjoyed.

“Oh, no reason.”

-Around the end of the rectangular table, the kids sat parallel to each other, while you and Jeremy sat next to each other. On your right, Tanya and Andy and on his left, Tommy and Sierra.

“Daddy! Can we play outside after dinner?” Sierra asked loudly.

“I don’t see why not.” He looked back at you, waiting for approval.

“I don’t mind. Whatever you guys wanna do.”

“Do you like baseball?” Tanya asked before biting into her chicken.

“I’m not much of a player. More of a watcher.”

“Hm.” She furrowed her eyebrows.

“Oh! Daddy, can we go sledding?” Tanya spoke up once again.

“I don’t know. (Name) might have to go home soon.”

“I can stay. I’d love to go.” You smiled at them.

Once dishes were cleaned and the table was cleared, Jeremy drove you down to the hills. He helped drag the sleds and fasteners to the tops of the slope. The glistening, white hills painted a light blue from the fading sun and drifting moon. Thankfully, you had your scarf on and the children were bundled up. Jeremy fastened Tanya and Sierra onto one sled while you took care of Andy and Tommy.

“You guys wanna see a trick me and my dad did back when I was little?” You whispered like it was some forbidden secret.

“Yeah!” Andy spoke up.

“Tell us!”

“Ok, but, hm, I dunno if you two can handle it.” Jeremy gave a head start and pushed his girls down the hill. Then Andy shouted.

“We can do it! We can do it!”

You chuckled. “Alright, hold on!”

You spun the circular sled and couple of times to gain some traction and before running the disk towards the slope. The sled spun out and the went downhill, a dizzying spell. However, the sled scuffed the snow into the icy underbelly it covered up. The boys raised their hands in the air as they cheered. You screamed for them to hold on and saw a mound of snow ahead. It could be a large snow ball, but it also could have been a rock under there! You sprinted. It was hard to run with the ice at your feet, but you did not care. These kids were your responsibility and you did not want anything to happen to them. You ran, but Jeremy ran faster. Your hair moved slightly when he sped by you. He grabbed the sled and it came to a tumbling halt. His body hit the snow.

“Oh my god! Boys, are you ok?!” You caught up to them.

Then you lost your cerebellum from the ice and landed on Jeremy with an OOF! He groaned.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re ok,” Jeremy said as you lifted yourself off of him. He nursed Andy’s head, “What the hell ‘appened?”

“Jeremy, it was all my fault. Please don’t be mad at them, I was just trying to spin them down the hill and- and they took off and there was ice and-“

“That was amazing!” Tommy shouted.

“Can we go again, Miss (Name)?” Andy asked.

Nervous eyes met Jeremy’s. “Definitely not.” You said.

He only laughed. Then shrugged it off, thankfully.

”Let’s just do sledding the regular way.” “Aww.” The boys said in unison.

The sound of crunching snow and the hollow plastic dragging on the ground approached.

”Can (Name) push me next? Please!” Tanya asked.

“Me too! No fair!” Sierra pouted.

“I can push all of you, if you promise to keep your hands on the sled.” You said sternly.

For the next hour, you had pushed all of them repeatedly. Your back began to hurt. You huffed after sending Andy and Sierra down the hill again before looking behind you.

“You wanna take over? Maybe just once?”

“Nah, this is great!” Jeremy chuckled.

You held your knees and hunched.

“Alright, alright, kids, Grab your sleds!”He shouted.

“Aww.”

Mugs were set at the table while Jeremy prepared yours. The kids playing in the other room. The kettle of water was nearly empty. He stirred the hot chocolate cocoa before grabbing the whipped cream can.

“You fancy?”

“Yes, please.”

He topped yours off and then his, carrying the mugs to the table. Thanking him. You waited a moment for your drink to cool down. You felt a small pressure on your shoulder. A nice weight. A gentle touch. Jeremy’s head nestled into your neck.

“Thank you. For, y’know, playing with my kids and all.”

“Are you kidding? Why wouldn’t I wanna be around the coolest kids ever?”

“You ain’t got a clue what that means to me, Doll.”

All of the children rush in, Andy tripped. Sierra pulled him up while Tanya screeched.

“Dad! Can (Name) sleep over?”

SOMEONE MAKE A SCOUT X READER POST WHERE ITS JUS BONDING WITH HIS KIDS! PLEASE! PLEASE! I'VE CHECKED THE TAG TWENTY TIMES TODAY! SOMEONE GIVE IT TO ME!!!!!

[arislary]

Nipping At Your Nose - Han Jisung x f!reader Oneshot Preview

Synopsis: You're spending the holidays at the club with your roommate and things take a turn for best when you meet the blue-haired bartender who turns out to be more than what you expected.

Or Han Jisung as Jack Frost a.k.a. club owner

Genre: s2l, fluff, smut

Warning: 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex (wrap up!), biting kink, sexual assault (reader is groped and handles her own), weed consumption, alcohol consumption

A/N: I totally meant for this to have been posted for Christmas, but who am I kidding, it got away from me! EXTREMELY UNEDITED, but Han Jisung's blue hair is wrecking me and I needed to write about him immediately. Just gonna add a note just in case the title isn’t enough, this is JUST A PREVIEW not the full oneshot yet! Bare with me 💕

Release Date: Sunday, 12-29-24

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

I tapped the bar as I threw the shot back, holding in from making a face as I brought the lime to my lips. I turned to my right grinning as Damian glared at me as he sucked on his lime. I had convinced him to come out as a celebration for finishing the week and to celebrate the holiday season. With Christmas being tomorrow, this had been the only club we could find that was open. We had both started new jobs at the beginning of the month and had finally found the time to celebrate our accomplishments. Even as roommates, we still barely saw the other with how much work we did. 

On top of the fact that this would be my second year spending Christmas after having been no-contact with my family. A distraction was a must. I went out of my way to make the holiday special for myself and refused to allow the lack of family stop me from treating myself and those I loved. Damian had decided to spend the holiday in the states rather than go home to visit his parents in Australia as he normally did.  

“Literally so many different ways we could be celebrating,” Damian groaned, head falling back as he leaned away from me. A laugh bubbled from my lips as I called out to the bartender to request for another round of drinks. 

The original bartender, a cute muscular man, that had been serving us had been occupied and turned to the man squatting next to him that had just come from their backrooms. I watch the two converse before the man squatting stood up to come over to us and suddenly I’m greeted with wide brown eyes, blue hair and chubby cheeks. 

I felt myself pause as I took in the good looking man in front of me. His black long-sleeve shirt was loose around his frame, rolled at the sleeves. He had one gold chain hanging from his neck and various rings and earrings decorating his person. My eyes watched as he rubbed his hands on the rag that had been hanging on his shoulder. His very veiny hands at that. My eyes stuck to the way his long fingers clenched around the towel. I felt my mouth start to salivate the longer I stared. His eyebrow raised as I stayed silent longer, glancing over to Damian who looked ready to burst out laughing. 

Damian shoved an elbow into my side, causing me to flinch and sit up right in my chair. I stared wide eyed at the bartender, brain coming to a complete stop. 

“I wanna hold your hand-”

Girl. 

“NO! I mean-“ my hand shot out in front of me, shaking at him, other hand covering my mouth in disbelief. Damian shook in chair, practically falling out of it from how hard he was laughing. The bartender’s smirk stretched into an amused smile, his hands now coming to rest on the bar as he let out a huff of laughter. “Can I please get a rum and coke?” 

I mumble out my order, my eyes refusing to leave the bar-top as Damian continued to laugh, attempting to give his own order. As soon as the grinning bartender walks away to make our drinks, I turn to the ‘Brutus’ sitting next to me, taking my turn to shove an elbow into Damian’s ribs now, hissing in his ear. 

“Thanks for the help, ass!”

He yelped and rubbed at his side, eyes narrowing at me, but the smirk on his face gave him away. 

“It didn’t look like you needed my help with how you practically shoved his pants down and started to suck his d-“

“Alright, I have a ‘Manhattan’ for the gentleman and-“ the “too-cute-for-his-own-good” bartender returned with our drinks laying them down in front of us one by one. “A rum and coke for my new favorite customer.”

He shot me a wink as I sputtered reaching to grab my drink, fingers barely grazing his. I jumped a bit, quickly bringing the drink up to my lips, straw bumping my top one before making it into my mouth. Way to go, ______, way to go. 

The bartender leans forward, hand outstretched towards me. His shoulders and arms seeming so big, making a flash of heat go through me. My eyes dart from his hand back to his face, stopping once, several times, at his lips. 

“You said you wanted to hold my hand right?” 

More like put your fingers in my mouth, but sure. 

[bwat5-blog]

Quick Response To Some Nonsense

**Spoilers For All Of Arcane**

Hello all, no fancy lead in today just a response to some recent stances taken on Cait/Vi, in particular their breakup. Of course this is simply my interpretation, but I felt strongly enough seeing it that it was worthy of a refutation. As I am keeping this centered on the stances themselves and my responses I won't be doing my usual laying the groundwork, so if you have any questions feel free to ask or check out my other stuff! Let's dive in!

The primary reason Caitlyn shuts down and does what she does is because Vi took the choice away from her after they had agreed on it. And that Caitlyn had lived a life always struggling to be able to make her own choices because of her parents: Okay, on the surface, totally fair. Yes, they had agreed on a plan as to how this had to go down and Vi stopped Caitlyn from carrying it out. However, there is SO MUCH MORE going on here.

First and foremost, Vi's reasons for stopping Caitlyn at this point are irrelevant. Because of Isha. Listen folks, If you have watched these characters all the way to this point, and you honestly feel that either of them would intentionally do something that risks the life of a child, I just cannot agree with you. Caitlyn has only shown herself to be a kind and caring person ever since we meet her. These folks wanted to use two factors to show that Vi would not have cared about Isha being hurt to prove that it was all about Jinx.

A- Vi doesn't have a particular adverse reaction to Renni's son dying

B- Vi doesn't seem to care about hitting Isha and doesn't stop when she does

A: Renni's Son-

This is the boy killed who is working in the Shimmer lab that Jayce and Vi attack. Jayce accidentally kills him with a blast from his hammer. So regarding the allegation that Vi doesn't seem to particularly care. Context, as always, is our friend folks. Jayce is backing out because of the death when they were quite literally starting their attack on Siloc's entire operation. So what does Vi actually say-

"You've always been a part of this, you just never had to look it in the eye. One dead kid? There's hundreds more where he came from, thanks to Silco. And thanks yo people like you, who stuck their heads in the dirt. "

Jayce leaves, Vi very clearly stands over the body and sighs, her eyes wet with tears. And yes she gets back to business. Because as she said. This is about so much more than one dead kid.

B: Hitting Isha-

Okay, I love Isha to. But this is not the first time she jumps in the middle of an adult situation and gets hurt. But anyway, the allegation here is that Vi really had no issue hitting her and didn't stop because of it. Isha quite literally bites Vi on her wraps. You know, the part of her that is probably in constant pain from months of pit fighting and no self care. Also, Jinx and Vi literally stop at the same time when they realize what happened.

Also, lets not forget this handy-dandy little moment where Vi quite literally throws herself in front of Isha to save her from Vander:

Additionally, to allege that the reason Caitlyn reacts to such an extreme agree is simply that Vi robbed her of her choice is to deny the absolutely crushing trauma Caitlyn has been/is dealing with. She is literally face to face with the monster of her nightmares, and is being denied her revenge. Every fight-or-flight, primal, lizard brain part of her is screaming that Jinx is the most dangerous thing in the world, and the woman Caitlyn loves is standing in front of her. I go more into the signs of Caitlyn's traumatic episode in another document but to suffice it to say, it doesn't seem like Caitlyn was really aware of exactly what all was going on in that chamber. Vi called her repeatedly and all Caitlyn could say was "move! she's not getting away again!" never responding to anything else Vi was saying. Caitlyn fired her rifle twice striking Vi's gauntlet once even and was not deterred. She is NOT doing okay.

2. "I thought you were different.. but your not. It's her blood in your veins"- whoo boy. Okay, The users are more or less defending Caitlyn's anger and her saying this as her realizing that ultimately Vi's loyalty is with Jinx because they believe Vi stopped her because of Jinx, and by extension someone who has done A-Z of fucked up things to Caitlyn. Again I am just about the furthest thing from a Jinx apologist but I don't have time for the list at the moment.

I will repeat, did Vi stop it because she saw Powder in Jinx's face, and because her sister told her she was glad it was her killing her? Entirely possible. But ultimately what it comes down it Caitlyn is enraged because Jinx got away, and Caitlyn's solution to that was to take the shot with a hex tech rifle that had been glitching, and could have killed a child.

No as to what Caitlyn actually said, because one of their points was about Vi's comeback. A few points:

A- Caitlyn knows all of Vi and Jinx history by now including Vi's crushing guilt over what happened

B- Caitlyn knows Vi carries the guilt for her mother's death because Vi asked Caitlyn not to shoot

C- Caitlyn knows what it meant for Vi to put on the uniform and come here with her, and still doubts her

D- Caitlyn literally alleges that Vi is no different than Jinx, who has caused all of this pain and suffering, because her blood is the same, tainted in the same way

3. "Than why are you the one acting like her?"- Essentially here they are just saying that Vi was looking to wound, looking for the low blow, and that not enough attention was given to how fucked up this was to say, especially because Caitlyn had tried to do all of this the right way.

Can I do the right thing for the wrong reason? Is it bad that I'm making friends with my demons, and Living by a couple deadly sins Just to make sure I finish what you began And I ain't afraid to lose a life or ten If it means that I get to win in the end (woo) So I'ma do this on my own, step into the danger zone Pull the pin and watch it blow! (Arcane Hellfire)

I am not saying it wasn't a fucked up thing to say. I am saying Yall are missing the point. Vi was afraid of Caitlyn changing because she saw the violence and darkness in her. Because while yes they are doing everything the right way in the lanes technically, for Caitlyn its all for the wrong reasons. She isn't there to help the undercity, she is on a quest for revenge. And as such is surrendering her morals and values alittle at a time.

4. Caitlyn hit Vi impulsively after Vi realized she overstepped/Cait never learned her strength or how to hold back-

As Caitlyn is walking away and Vi says "why are you the one acting like her?!" she grabs Cait's arm firmly at first then relaxes her grip to a more gentle one. Caitlyn sits and breathes for a solid ten seconds before hitting Vi. That's not exactly a reflexive action. Also, Caitlyn has demonstrated a tremendous proficiency with her rifle and with increasing hand-to-hand combat over the course of the show. She knew what she was doing, and she knew where she hit her. Now was Caitlyn also drowning in the middle of a total emotional overload. Yes indeed. But this was not a shock response strike. She chose to.

Now for a few points outside of the breakup that were mentioned:

Vi was wrong to suggest that Caitlyn did not understand during their conversation about Vi putting on the badge-

Well we can do this simply. Lets compare the two.

A- Vi was standing there in sight of her parents bodies as the people responsible were still there stalking around the smoke. The people responsible all dress the same way and their look is a symbol of their institution. Now she is being asked to dress like them.

B- Caitlyn was however far away and only saw the rocket launched and smash into the building. This of course would still be very traumatic. But for better or worse there is only one Jinx and her look is her look. Unless Vi was asking Cait to put on a half-eaten circus tent, I don't think we are in the same area here.

2. Vi has a tendency to dismiss Caitlyn's trauma when something more viscerally related to her own loss is going on-

The example they provided was the conversation I listed above. Vi has literally stayed there to be there and support Caitlyn even after being yelled at by Tobias. She is supportive of catching jinx and wants to help right up until Cait offers the badge. And even after that blow up, in the wake of the memorial attack Vi shelves her own issues and agrees to be an enforcer anyways.

3. Fandom keeps giving Vi a pass like anyone from Piltover can do no wrong-

The idea of this fandom giving Vi a pass is completely and totally laughable. I'm sorry but it is. There is still a whole legion of us who blame a fifteen year old girl kneeling over her father's body, who just saw her brothers die, who just held off a legion of armed Silco goons and barely survived, for ruining Powder during one bad moment and turning her into jinx. Aside from Caitlyn's commander Arc Vi is probably the least understood character in the entire fandom.

PSSSSSST.. If it helps, they don't do redemption arcs for characters who were never in the wrong in the first place. Have a great day!

[porcelainseashore]

A Party of Two

First snow / Fake relationship / Ugly sweater || Leon Secret Santa || Gift for @sillydicejelly as part of the @leonsecretsanta event

Summary: It’s not every day that you bump into the one and only Agent Kennedy alone at the office. And it’s certainly not every day that you invite a stranger to your family’s Christmas party. The question is, can you convince Leon to celebrate his most hated holiday with you?

Time flies. Before you knew it, nearly another year had gone by, along with its series of missions done and dusted. It was a week before Christmas, and a particularly unassuming mid-December morning when you stepped into the office elevator, engrossed with your phone and the multitude of messages coming in from your family group chat. The screen lit up with a loud ping each time a new one was sent.

“Aunt Gretchen won’t be able to make it this time.”

“Damn, that’s a shame /s”

“Language!”

“Yes, mooooommmm…”

“Anyway, don’t forget the dessert!”

“And the dress code!”

“Hey! Could you hold the doors for a sec—” A deep baritone voice rang out in the distance, interrupting your reverie.

Oops. You shook your head from your thoughts, glancing up at an all-too-familiar face and a pair of cerulean blue eyes piercing through dirty blonde curtain bangs. He made a run for it as you slammed your hand against the closing elevator.

“Agent Kennedy,” you greeted politely with a simple nod.

“Uh-uh,” he wagged his finger cheekily, somehow managing to slide through the doors gracefully without breaking out into a sweat. “It’s just Leon.”

“Leon,” you acknowledged. 

It was refreshing how he didn’t have a stick up his ass like the rest of the goons who worked in the DSO, regardless if he was the golden boy or not. However, since you were in different departments, you hardly interacted with each other outside of the required formalities. It didn’t help as well that you considered yourself more of a wallflower than anything. Surely he wouldn’t—

As if right on cue, he uttered your name, followed by, “Angela’s PA, right?”

“How did you—” “You think I wouldn’t know who the amazing PA of the head honcho is?” he rebutted, his lips curling up in a smile as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

You were at a loss for words. “Um,” was about all you could manage.

“Come on, don’t die on me now,” he laughed, shrugging as he continued, “I’m just good with names, faces, you know, all that jazz.” He fanned his hands to illustrate his point before pausing abruptly and dropping them down to his sides, as if he had remembered that he was in a security division, not a children’s playground.

Clearing his throat sheepishly, he turned to the control panel. “Second top floor, right?” Without waiting for you to answer, he punched the button and the lift started to move.

The silence in the space was awkward and deafening, so much so that you felt an innate desire to make small talk to pass the time.

“So, you doing anything for Christmas?”

For a split second, you spotted a wince in Leon’s expression before he masked it, and you instantly regretted the words you had blurted out.

“N-nah, not really,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze as he forced out a cordial smile. “Not my thing.”

Pursing your lips, you recalled the way your colleagues often heaped praises and compliments onto the man before you, only to gossip about his personal life in hushed whispers behind his back. That was the double-edged sword of being something akin to a celebrity hero in the office. It usually went along the lines of:

“Poor Leon, that guy’s a loner. No partner, no kids, no family.”

“No wonder he’s a workaholic!”

“I heard he’s pretty good friends with the bottle, if you know what I mean.”

“With the kinda shit they put him through? I’d be damaged goods myself.”

You had heard it all. And though you were never consulted for your opinion of him, you found their talk a little mean-spirited.

Without thinking, you stated, “We’re having a small celebration at my parents’ house. It’s only about an hour and a half’s drive away. You’re welcome to join if you want?”

Your hand flew to your mouth, shocked that you had actually uttered the first thing that came to your mind. Leon just stared at you, seemingly having trouble finding the right words to say.

Scrambling to come up with an excuse or to backtrack, or both, you sputtered, “Well, uh, you see, we have this thing where, uh, it’s not great to spend the holidays alone. You know? So, well, sorry, forget what—”

At this, Leon chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he reassured you. “Thanks, really, it’s nice of you to offer, but I’ll be alright.” On my own.

You had no idea what possessed you to do what you did next, but you whipped out a sticky note from your bag and scribbled down your number with a ballpoint pen.

“Here,” you thrust it into his hands. He looked just as surprised as you. “Just… think about it, okay?”

Ding.

The doors opened and you hastily made your exit, mentally cussing at yourself for being so bold and assuming toward an almost-stranger.

“What’s the dress code?” you heard his voice call out from behind you.

Spinning around, you caught a glimpse of his lopsided grin as you smiled back. “Ugly Christmas sweater, of course.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

“No promises.”

That was the last text you received from him on the day of the Christmas Eve party. Leon appeared to have cold feet, which didn’t take you by surprise, seeing as he had been hesitant to begin with.

You sighed.

Perhaps it would take him a couple more years to come round to it. What on earth were you thinking anyway, inviting him to a family-do like that? Not to mention, you had already written in the group chat about bringing a plus one. Jumping the gun much? Well, at least you still had an afternoon’s worth of errands to run and distract yourself with. You could worry about the explanation later.

Soon, the gifts were wrapped up and ready to go, and the spiced ginger Yule log you had baked sat pretty on the counter. After loading all of the goodies into the backseat of your car, you started the engine and embarked on the long drive to your parents’ house.

In the meantime, Leon had been lounging on his living room couch, complete with a tumbler of whiskey in his hand as he swirled the melting ice in it lazily. Such a let-down, he thought. You didn’t deserve that, and as a matter-of-fact, you didn’t deserve any of this. He peered at the liquor bottle he had just cracked open, mocking him as he gulped down the remnants of the liquid from his chilled glass.

Smacking it onto the table, he was about to pour himself another shot when his phone buzzed. He saw your name flash up on his screen. Normally, he wouldn’t bother to check or answer it during his drinking sessions, but this time, curiosity got the better of him. It was a message with an attachment. Hmm, interesting.

Upon opening it, he saw a selfie of you posing in your horrendous-looking sweater and a mouth-watering dessert behind you. You were holding a present in one hand and making a funny face. The message read, “Come to the dark side, we have cake…”

He burst out laughing—he had to admit, it was rather cute of you to try, especially when no one else had before. Fiddling with the device in his hand, he hesitated, wondering if he should spend another night drowning himself in alcohol at home, alone, or whether he should take a chance on you and celebrate the holiday he hated the most with a bunch of strangers.

“Ahh, what the hell,” he mumbled before pocketing his phone and coming to his decision.

━━━━━━━━━━━

It was half past seven in the evening when you reached your parents’ house. Most of the guests had arrived by then and the celebrations were underway. The hallway was bathed in the warm glow of fairy lights and a large fir tree stood by the corner, decked out in festive garlands and ornaments as presents were tucked beneath its coniferous branches. The delicious smell of stuffed turkey, rib roast, baked ham, mince pies, and eggnog wafted through the air. Your family had prepared a feast and you were surrounded by your close ones. All was in its rightful place, but there was just one thing missing—Leon.

“So… I’m looking forward to seeing this plus one you’ve been talking about,” your mom nudged you as she sauntered over with a plate full of food.

Sensing your unease, your older sister came to the rescue, which you were ever thankful for. “Mom, stop, give it a break already.”

“I’m just curious! It’d be nice to meet this mystery person, hmm?”

You shifted between your feet uncomfortably. At this rate, you were pretty sure that Leon had bailed on tonight’s plans, so you might as well come clean about it. “Well, um, he—”

Before you could finish your sentence, the doorbell rang. Wait, could that be him? Your heart leaped in its cage.

“I’ll get it!” your younger brother yelled as he ran toward the door and you chased after him.

Yanking it open, both of you were greeted by the devil himself. The corners of his eyes crinkled, deep blue set against his pale skin, flushed from the cold.

“Sorry for being late,” he said, extending his arms toward you as you froze up in astonishment. Your younger brother stealthily gave you a push forward and you stumbled—quite literally—into Leon’s awaiting arms.

“Oof, hey!” he laughed. “Nice to see you too.”

“Sorry,” you stammered while you held onto him to find your footing. 

Once you had regained your balance, the scratchy material of his outfit caused you to have a proper look. From the porch lights, you could just about make out the knitted design. There was a figure of who you assumed was meant to be Jesus, sitting on a reindeer and riding it into an explosion of stars with an assortment of ill-matching Christmas trees in the background.

Noticing the perturbed expression on your face, Leon asked with a tinge of anxiety in his voice, “Ugly sweater, right?”

That was when you started giggling, realizing that his sweater definitely outclassed yours in whatever imaginary competition you had in mind. “God, that’s terrible! Okay, you win.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the prize?” he smirked.

At this point, your parents had come to the door to see what the commotion was about. Upon seeing Leon standing outside in the cold, they ushered him in quickly, asking him to make himself at home. 

As Leon settled in and went through the customary round of introductions, the topic that you had been dreading came up—naturally, from your nosey mom of course. “How well do you two know each other?” she pried. “Are you two…”

Leon glanced between you and your mom as she trailed off purposefully, and while you nearly choked on your saliva, he didn’t seem fazed at all. Instead, he responded with a disarming smile, “Yes, we are.”

Your mom emitted a contented hum, turning to your dad with a knowing look, and your eyes shot up to meet his in panic. However, he placed a hand on your shoulder comfortingly, mouthing the words, “Relax, I got this,” as he gave you a brazen wink. 

You had no idea what sort of game he was playing or where he was going with this, but he had a way about him that made you want to place your trust in him. And so, you eased up, allowing him to take the lead in the conversation while showing him to the dining table. Your dad served him a plate and Leon poured out the wine he had brought as a gesture of appreciation. 

Dinner went on without a hitch, filled with warm-hearted chatter and a never ending supply of food and beverages, in which all of you ate and drank until you were stuffed. Although your family could use a lesson in minding their own business, they were relatively easy-going and laid-back, so much so that Leon appeared to be enjoying the company. He seemed brighter and lighter than when you usually saw him in the office, away from all the scrutiny and judgment that could be found there. It was as if he was getting energized by the banter and a social environment which expected nothing from him, but to just be himself.

Your parents took to him and so did your siblings, being none the wiser to the fact that you and Leon were still practically strangers. Well, strangers was too harsh a word. It was more like: not quite friends yet not quite strangers. Occasionally, you would sneak a peek at each other from across the room, sharing shy smiles and furtive glances.

You were pleasantly surprised by how smooth Leon could be when he wanted to, considering that your earlier exchanges with the man had been stilted at best. It was never like how it was in the movies, where couples would hit it off instantly at ditzy meet cutes. Hold on a minute—couple? You mentally berated yourself for thinking about you and Leon on romantic terms. It must be the holiday season making people feel lonely, you figured. How many times had you received drunken, emotionally-wrought texts from exes, only to have them fumble with excuses for sending it out the next day? Anyway, this was nothing. What you had with Leon would only last for tonight, like a trick of the light. You went back to rearranging the gifts under the tree for the umpteenth time.

It was getting late. As your family had a tradition of only opening their presents on Christmas Day itself, they wanted to head to bed soon.

“Leon, you’re very welcome to take the bed in the guest room if you like,” your father offered.

“It’s a long drive back after all,” your mother hinted with a wily grin on her face. Your sister sighed and rolled her eyes while your brother suppressed an obvious laugh.

You saw a slight blush creep up Leon’s neck, but he relented. “Well, if you insist. I can’t thank you enough for all your hospitality.”

Your parents waved off his comment as everyone helped to clear up the dishes. When the remaining chores were finished, you brought Leon to his room, giving him a fresh set of towels, toiletries, and spare clothes from your dad as the rest went to sleep.

“You didn’t have to lie about us, you know?” you mentioned, touching his arm gently. “I mean, I appreciate it.”

“I know.” He brushed his thumb against the back of your hand, causing it to tingle. “It’ll be our little secret.”

You scoffed at his quip, shaking your head in mock disbelief before pulling away. “Well, I’ll get ready for bed. Let me know if you need anything, alright?”

“Mm-hmm.”

After you cleaned up and changed into your pajamas, you went outside to sit on the old wooden swing by the porch. It was draped with fluffy cushions and a thick fleece blanket, which you snuggled under to get comfy. This was your favorite time of the night, when the world was quiet and through the darkness you could spot faint glimmers of light from the street. The air was frosty and you could see your breath condense into puffs of mist.

“Is this a party of one?”

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t even heard the front door creak open. Leon was standing beside the swing, motioning to the empty spot beside you. “Mind if I join you?”

Scooting over to give him some room, you jested, “Sure, as long as you don’t steal the whole blanket.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smirked as he sat down, wrapping his body with the covers.

You trembled as the chilled air hit your skin and he raised an eyebrow. “Cold?”

“No—” But your body betrayed you as you shivered uncontrollably again.

“C’mere,” he muttered, shifting his position as he opened his arms so that you could scuttle in between them.

You gulped nervously but gave in, moving closer as you leaned your head against his chest, catching a whiff of his musky cologne. In response, he snaked an arm around your shoulders in the form of a semi-embrace. His chin rested on the top of your head, and the warmth radiated from his body to yours and back again as you heard his heart beating—maybe a little faster? If someone had told you that you would end the night cuddling with Agent Leon Scott Kennedy, you would have said they were out of their mind, but yet here you were.

“Your Yule log was delicious,” his voice cut through the tense silence and you could hear it reverberating through his chest.

“I knew it’d sway you over to the dark side,” you teased. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t miss out on that?”

His fingers stroked through your hair absentmindedly. “I’m glad I didn’t miss out on all of this.”

You peered up at him inquisitively as he continued, “I haven’t… done something like this in a long time. I kinda forgot how nice it can be…”

Reaching out, you took his hand in yours and squeezed it. “I’m happy that you’re here.”

“I’m happy that you’re here too.”

It came out as a barely-heard whisper, but before he could speak any further, a crystallized snowflake fell onto your cheek. You thought it might have been a fluke at first, but soon, more and more feathery flakes landed on your clothes and hair, littering the floorboards of the front porch in a myriad of geometric shapes.

“It’s snowing,” you gasped.

“First snow of the year.” Leon looked up, similarly in awe at the blinding yet beautiful scenery before him.

You stuck out your tongue to taste the fluffy, sticky ice which fizzled and melted on it. Then, a sudden thought struck you. 

“What time is it?” you asked.

Leon untangled his arm from underneath the layers, squinting at the clock face of his leather-strapped wrist watch. “Just past midnight—”

You jolted up, taking him by surprise. “It’s Christmas?”

Grinning at you, his hands encircled your wrists, the palms of which still laid on his chest. “Uh-huh, so, about my prize…” he tapered off suggestively.

“We’ll unwrap the gifts later with the rest of my family,” you scolded playfully.

“No, I mean, the prize I get for wearing the ugliest sweater in town,” he snickered.

Your heart was in your mouth as your mind raced, simultaneously attempting to come to terms with what he was implying and second-guessing yourself. 

“What kind of prize…” you began, but didn’t manage to complete the sentence as you found yourself drifting toward him on your own accord, closing the gap as you licked your lips and watched with bated breath.

His gaze dropped to your lips as he caressed your cheek with his knuckles. Cupping your face in his hands, he tilted his head, nudging his nose against yours as he planted a tender kiss along your parted lips. You stayed like this for a while, tentatively exploring, soft kisses and skin upon skin, tasting each other until the both of you were satisfied.

When you finally broke away, there was a fond look in his eyes, as though he were seeing you for you, just like you did with him. “Merry Christmas,” he murmured, voice half-dazed and husky.

“Merry Christmas, Leon,” you smiled.

Dividers by @saradika

[beef-brisket]

Charlie: Okay, that's fine- just... please, try and be a little nice to him, okay?

Adam: Okay, okay- shit... fine. I'll be fucking nicer...

He tensed up as Charlie hugged him tightly.

Charlie: Thank you, Adam... he's the only parent I've go left, I can't lose him...

Adam sighed and wrapped his arms around her.

Adam: I know, kid... I'll help him, okay? As much as I can.

Charlie nodded, her head resting just under his chest.

Charlie: T-Thank you, Adam.

-

Lucifer woke up tense and coughing. He felt like something was crawling up his throat, but after a few hacks, three petals came out of his mouth, landing next to him.

He could feel that Adam wasn't with him. As much as it hurt, he didn't blame him. Lucifer has left him more times than he could count. What was new was the hopeless feeling that filled him. That feeling that he wasn't good enough for Adam, he deserved to be alone.

Is this how Adam felt in Eden? Maybe worse, seeing as it was three people that left him. In the end, it was only Adam left. And now, it was only Lucifer.

He felt tears build up in his eyes, but he couldn't cry. He already felt the flowers crawling up his throat, cutting the sensitive flesh.

A click of the door made Lucifer look up, and he actually started crying when he saw Adam walk in- with food?

Adam: Hey, Lu- oh shit. Hey- bud, you're okay!

Adam put the tray of food down on his desk and quickly went over to Lucifer.

Lucifer: I-I thought you left- I-I'm so sorry, Adam- for l-leaving you- e-every time- I've failed you-.

Lucifer started coughing. Adam quickly helped him sit up and started rubbing his back.

Adam didn't want to think about what Lucifer said and how much strain he had in his voice. He didn't want Lucifer wasting his breath on him. Not if it'll cause him pain.

Adam: It's okay, Lu. Just... just try and breathe, okay?

Lucifer nodded and slowly started to calm his breathing. It was so much easier while Adam was here.

Adam: ...I'm sorry, too. I've done... horrible shit. You didn't deserve it. Not you or Charlie. I let my bullshit become everyone else's problem, and that's not fair. On any of you. So, I want to help you, okay? I won't... I won't pressure you to tell me who they are or anything. But I want to make you comfortable, okay? And... and maybe... fix you, completely... at some point.

Lucifer weakly smiled as Adam talked. It was strange hearing Adam so calm and caring, but he savored it. His heart even fluttered as Adam brought over the food he came in with.

Adam: It's just soup, I though it would go down easy, you know?

Lucifer: Thank you, Adam.

Adam smiled: Don't mention it.

Lucifers heart fluttered again as Adam started to feed him. He even wiped the corners of his mouth when he needed to.

Adam broke off a few small chunks of buttered bread and gave them to Lucifer. This was the first full meal Lucifer had in days. Everything was so hard to eat.

Adam: There. I don't usually make soup, so I hope it wasn't too shit.

Lucifer smiled and leaned back against the pillows.

Lucifer: It was perfect.

Adam smiled back: Okay, that's good. I'll uh... do you want a bath? Or something? You've been in bed for a while.

Lucifer blushed: W-Will you help?

Adam blushed as well, and he cursed himself for it.

Adam: If you want me to- if you're comfortable with it.

Lucifer: I am.

Adam: Alright, Luci. I'll get it started for you.

Lucifer's heart fluttered at the nickname, something he hadn't heard for a long time. He watched as Adam walked to bathroom and turned the baths tap on.

Adam: I'll open the window for you, try and get the steam out.

Lucifer: Thank you, Adam.

He smiled hearing Adam move around the bathroom. Lucifer was able to breathe easier, knowing Adam definitely cared for him. Maybe Adam doesn't hate him as much as he thinks he does.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66 @fanofstuff01

Hanahaki Disease

The day of the failed extermination was the end of many things for Lucifer. The end of Heaven's terror, the end of his isolation, the end of the Exorcists, but most importantly, it was the end of the First Man.

He had his fun, taunting Adam for anything and everything, his weight, his wives, his attitude. He knew there was no way in Hell Adam would ever be able to beat him, let alone hurt him. But it was fun to rile him up, fucker did put his hands on his daughter. He deserved it.

Feeling Adam's mask break open under his fist was so incredibly satisfying, but not as much as feeling the bones in Adam's face crack and snap as he landed blow after blow. Just when he was about to do something horrific with his Hellfire, he felt a warm touch on his shoulder.

Looking up, he was met with the face of his daughter, begging him for mercy. Of course, Lucifer felt a teeny tiny weeeny bit bad when he saw how much golden blood covered Adam's face and clothes. But that feeling quickly left when he crawled out of that crater to spew more self-righteous bullshit.

After that, everything was a blur. The sudden silver blade sticking out of Adam's chest, to him falling, landing on the ground with a sickening crack. The tiny maid on his back, stabbing him over and over. And laughing while doing it.

Lucifer watched as an angel with one arm ran over to Adam and pulled him onto his back. Her begging was hard to listen to. It was affecting a deep part of him that was making him feel sympathy for the pathetic bastard. He couldn't have that.

So, he threw them out. Every single one of them. Forcing the army to leave their dead to be feasted on by the cannibals.

Lucifer helped his daughter rebuild. He even cooked some pancakes for everyone.

It wasn't until he was sure everyone at the hotel was asleep that he went out to check the carnage. At least, that's what he told himself. But it was a useless lie as he beelined for Adam's body.

Lucifer felt sick as he saw the state of it. Most of his stomach was gone, his limbs bitten down to the bone. But the most painful thing was his wings. They were broken, snapped, and torn apart. Eaten.

He was eaten.

Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, the man twitched. And groaned. A bubbling noise escaped his throat, golden blood running out of his mouth.

He's alive.

Lucifer knelt down, his hand hovering just above his chest. It was definitely raising and falling. It was very weak, but it was still happening.

That's when Adam said his final words.

Adam: ...h-hate... you...

Lucifer watched as his eyes became empty. No feeling or purpose behind them. No holy light.

The day of the failed extermination was the end of many things for Lucifer. The end of his old friend. The end of all the good memories he had from Eden. The end of his hope to repair things with Adam.

But, the day after the failed extermination was the start of many things for Lucifer. The start of seeing Adam's chest slowly start to raise again. The start of Adam's stay at the Hazbin Hotel. The start of Lucifer's own personal Hell. The start of hanahaki disease.

It started the first day Adam was at the hotel. The man looked broken and defeated. He didn't even argue with Charlie when she told him about what he'd need to do to stay here. And she wasn't holding back, and neither was Maggie.

She had her spare pressed into Adam's neck the whole time. But the light in his eyes was gone, the need to fight back. He was still healing and was quite the horrid sight, but even that didn't give him any mercy from the members or workers at the hotel.

He watched Adam limp his way to the room Charlie said was his. The whole time, he said nothing, even when Lucifer made a few small threats to his life of he tried anything.

Lucifer felt a tickle in his throat, and he coughed and cleared it.

Lucifer: Hm. Weird. Better not have caught anything form those fucking angels.

Little did Lucifer know that was the start of something truly horrible.

[bekolxeram]

Unfortunately, I don't have the means to donate this time, (Stupid expensive health issues🙄) but I'd still like to express my gratitude to Bucktommy and this fandom for the occasion.

Not that my life has ever been sunshine and rainbows, but 2024 has been particularly difficult for me. I started the year the sickest I've been for years, then one of my uncles passed away in February. He was 88. He had been slowly succumbing to dementia for quite some time, so almost everyone agreed a cardiac arrest was a blessing in disguise.

I wasn't close with him, but my mother was, and naturally, I had to spend pretty much the entire March accompanying her to all sorts of traditional ceremonies for the dead. All my uncle's children, my cousins, came back from abroad as well. They enjoyed hanging out with me back when I was a toddler, but then I slowly grew up into this weird, moody kid of few words, and we kind of drifted apart from there.

Family reunions were never awkward despite my gloomy existence though, they had their fun aunt who never ran out of things to talk about. To them, my mother's the life of the party and an exemplary woman, who went through tragedies in life but still manages to come out stronger on the other side, who unfortunately had to re-enter the workforce later in life to support her physically ill husband and her mentally ill teenage daughter.

What they don't know, is that while she's a fun aunt, she's not a fun mother. She was dealing with the stress and frustration so well because she always had an outlet at home. Someone she had total ownership over, officialized by a piece of birth certificate. Someone she could do whatever she'd like to, emotionally and physically, because in my culture, it's simply an alternative, maybe outdated method of parenting, not a crime.

I've had time to process my messy relationship with my mother, I've come to (mostly) accept it for what it is. Watching my cousins all rushing over to my mother with open arms to console her, watching my cousins' children playing around, having fun with her, while my existence was barely acknowledged, was actually more triggering than I expected. It acted as a sobering reminding that not only do I have merely a handful of friends since I left church, I in fact don't have any family left either. They're all my mother's family, not mine.

It was probably the most lonely and isolating experience in my life. It's like I was trapped inside of my head, my head that was gradually turning into a bottomless pit of nothingness.

Then Tommy Kinard drove through cross town traffic just to clear the air in person. He expressed how much he wanted to be a part of a family. Then he took his shot and got the boy in the end.

I just felt... understood. Watching Bucktommy's story play out on screen gave me some rare moments of joy and much needed hope. I felt like if Tommy could find happiness later in life, maybe it wasn't too late for me either.

If you've had experience with depression, you'd know how sometimes getting out of bed, brushing your teeth feels like an uphill battle already. Motivation is precious and hard to come by. I was so motivated creatively by Bucktommy and people in the fandom who resonated with the story just like me, that I wrote series of posts analyzing every scene in S7, I learned how to make gifs to illustrate the humor I found in all of us, I figured out how to edit video especially for my vision of a Brad-nado, I even wrote and posted my first fanfic ever.

And I just love how we refuse to give up hope, even after the breakup. We cried, we whined, then we doubled our effort writing fix-it fics, continuing their story on our own terms. Now, we even manage to raise thousands of dollars for charities in 24 hours in the name of love.

Sorry for the wall of text all about myself, I hope I don't come across as a self-absorbed jerk. I always thought I would never make it to 30, it started feeling like a real possibility in March. What happened instead was that my 30th birthday came and go because I was too busy screaming about Buck batting his eyelashes at Tommy when he was receiving a medal.

I'm sitting here, typing this out, looking back at my 2024 at the end of the year, only because Bucktommy happened and I had the pleasure to cross path with you all. I know, it's stupid, it's just a TV show, but I can't really imagine how my life would turn out if I never had Bucktommy, where I would be right, or even if I would still be at all.

So, thank you, for making life worth living for me again.