#this happened because of a pretty christmas wreath i came across

[doodlingbees]

sabi christmas edition

[miceenscene]

'tis the damn season

frankie/reader | childhood friends to lovers | pre-canon

wc: 1.8k/2.5k

summary: At one point in your lives, you knew Frankie better than anyone else on earth. When did that change?

warnings: none

an: don't let anyone tell you that second person doesn't work from another character's perspective, least of all yourself while editing

Masterpost | ao3

Chapter 2: Who am I Related to?

December 8, 2012 18:57

Hudson’s was a shitty bar just up highway 210 outside of Fort Bragg, the nearest watering hole to the base as the crow flies.

As a result, it served pretty damn near exclusively military personnel. When it changed ownership about four years back, the new management decided to reflect that and so the place looked like the Fourth of July and Top Gun had thrown up on it. Never mind that Fort Bragg was an Army base. Still, they had cheap booze and greasy food that was far better than the commissary, so it was always busy.

Pope had texted the usual suspects a few hours ago that he was heading to Hudson’s that evening, making Frankie immediately ditch his plans of drinking alone for drinking with Pope and whoever else showed up. Most likely just Benny and Ironhead now that Redfly had semi-retired down to Florida. It was a short drive to the bar from the dorms on base, but it was enough to make Frankie groan and press hands to his lower back as he got out of his car and made his way inside.

Pope was sitting at the bar and didn’t look up from texting on his phone as Frankie gingerly eased into the stool next to him.

“Hey, Fish,” Pope said, rereading the email.

“Hey.” At the bartender’s attention, Frankie pointed to Pope’s beer before daring a slight back stretch.

Pope sent his email and then looked over. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just finished PT.”

He chuckled once. “Back still fucked?”

“More tired than fucked anymore,” Frankie managed, shaking his head and wincing. The bartender delivered his beer, and Frankie took a swig. “When did we get old?”

“¿De qué estás hablando ‘nosotros’, viejo?”

Frankie jabbed an elbow and grinned slightly down at his next swig. “Culero.”

“Hey, before everyone gets here–” Pope looked at him, an oddly serious expression on his face for their usual bar. “I found out today you haven’t re-enlisted yet.”

Frankie immediately dropped his gaze to the suddenly very interesting glass in his hand. “Ah, no. No, I haven’t.”

“I’m trying to pull strings to get Benny into our unit full-time. I think he’d fit well with the team. Then Simmons tells me you haven’t signed your new papers yet. So what’s up?”

Frankie glanced over to see Pope still focused on him. “Nothing, nothing. I… I’m still thinking about it.”

He chuckled. “What’s there to think about?”

“We all want out someday, right? If we’re lucky enough to choose when we leave.”

“Yeah, but there’s thinking and thinking.” Pope smacked his shoulder. “What – are you gonna become a real estate agent like Redfly?”

No. Definitely not. Even just the idea of shilling condos was enough to make Frankie’s eyes glaze over. But still–

“Real estate agents make more money than we do.”

Pope made a considering face for a moment then brushed it off. “Yeah, but you’d miss it. You’re like me. We like the rush.”

Frankie nodded slightly. This is why he was still just thinking about it. It wasn’t a small thing to walk away from fourteen years with the Army. Especially since everyone knew the retirement benefits were absolute shit until you hit twenty. But he could already tell, he didn’t have another six years in him. He wasn’t even sure he had another deployment.

“You know the deadline’s New Year’s, right?” Pope said, cutting through his thoughts.

“Yeah, I know. I have some leave I have to take before the year’s out anyway.”

Pope nodded. “Good. Clear your head, get some perspective. See how fucking boring civvy life is, and then come back Jan 2 and join my team.”

Frankie smiled wryly; Pope always could make anything sound easy. “Something like that.”

“You have holiday plans then?” he asked, leaning an elbow on the bar.

Frankie sucked in breath. “I guess I’ll go back to my parents’. My mom’s been wanting me to visit for a while now.”

“How long’s it been?”

“I saw them in DC last summer, but I haven’t been back home… since I joined Delta.”

“Remind me where they’re at.”

“Up north. Little town in the middle of nowhere. Still in the same house I grew up in.” He could picture the wreath on the door, the twinkling lights his dad always strung across the front fence every December. A matching set used to be hung on the fence exactly opposite across the street. Who lived there now, he wondered. Would they put the tree in the front window too?

“Soldier coming home for Christmas. Sounds like a Hallmark movie.”

“Fuck you,” Frankie replied as the others finally arrived.

--

Frankie got his answer as he ducked out the front door of his parent’s house about a week later. His breath immediately fogged as he sucked in a few calming breaths of night air, the pressure in his head slowly levelling. Out in the still darkness, the noise level coming from the living room was finally manageable. Inside, with all of his cousins and his aunts and uncles and the music and everyone talking over each other and the heater set far too high for the number of people inside– he… he just needed a break.

Seven hours was a decent stint for his first day. He’d be around longer tomorrow. Wading in. That was the key. Because he was now the kind of person that had to treat time with his family like running a marathon. Apparently.

He walked down to the twinkling front fence, making a mental note to shovel the front walk tomorrow, and stopped. The house across the street – your house, as it would forever be in his mind – was completely dark. A small sign posted in the front yard announced some sort of home refurbishment company was going to be arriving soon. No doubt they would come in, strip away wallpaper and old tile and heart to paint it all beige and granite for the quick resell.

He hadn’t had the heart to ask his mother yet how long the house hadn’t belonged to your family. No need for another reminder of how much time had passed, how much he’d missed. He had more than enough already.

The front door opened behind him, casting a temporary warm glow across the dark snow, and his dad stepped out, pipe in hand. He meandered down the front steps to join Frankie at the gate, puffing a few times before speaking.

He shook his head. “It’d break his heart to see it so empty, but I understand why she sold,” he said, looking at the forlorn house with him.

“How long ago?” Frankie asked.

“Few months. Not too long after the funeral.” Dad looked his way for a moment. “I’ll give it ten minutes before I tell your mother you left.”

“I… thanks,” he replied weakly.

“Will you be back tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be back.”

Dad nodded slowly, leaving just the pipe smoke wafting between them for a minute. “Take it slow, no need to rush.”

“Thanks.” He stepped through the gate, fishing in his pocket for his car keys.

“Francisco,” he said, making Frankie stop and look at him. “We’re glad you’re back.”

Frankie just nodded and went to his car. Even though he couldn’t bear another minute in the noisy press of his loved ones, the idea of going back to his lonely hotel room was truly abysmal. So after some finagling with the ignition, he started the engine and headed to the one bar he’d ever been to in his hometown.

--

There were Christmas lights in the window and a dancing Santa on the bar as Frankie walked in. Some sort of forcibly cheery holiday classic played over the speakers tucked between quirky memorabilia that hung over every square inch of wall space. And even though public smoking had been outlawed by the state well over a decade ago, cigarette stench had sunk into the very foundation of the place.

It was nothing like Frankie remembered. But it would do.

Eyes automatically sweeping across the moderately busy room for a Thursday night, he headed for a stool at the far end of the bar, ordering a beer when the bartender came by. It was just one step up from swill, but comfortably numbing in its mediocrity. He looked across the room again, checking for familiar faces this time and finding none. No surprise there. A decade was a long time, and really he hadn’t been around too much for the years before that too.

There were couples on dates here, friend groups, some sort of girls’ night happening in the corner, a few loners like him hovering at the bar. Most everyone was smiling, talking, laughing so hard their whole bodies shook. A whole world of Normal. And Frankie was a tourist.

Pope was right. He couldn’t go back to this. He couldn’t make it through one whole day with blood relatives anymore. What was he thinking? That he could just settle into a normal life like the last decade of his work was nothing? Get a 9-to-5 and a mortgage and a girl – not that he’d ever had too much luck in that department. Especially when there was one girl that eclipsed all others, and he didn’t even know her phone number any more.

The door opened, making the Santa on the bar dance, and every thought in Frankie’s head immediately stopped. His eyes drew wide as he stared, jaw barely restrained from slapping against his chest. Was it really – course it was, there wasn’t anyone else it could be. A whole century could pass, and he’d still know that face.

It was you.

Live, in the flesh you. Cheeks pinked from the wind, haloed by the street lights outside, wrapped in a truly astonishing number of woolen layers. Not a half-remembered fantasy, but Real and breathing and even more beautiful than his memory had claimed.

He watched you shake a few flurries out of your hair and stomp the excess snow off your boots, shutting the door behind you as you waved to the bartender. Your gaze swung across the bar, completely skimming past him, and landed on the girls’ night in the corner. You smiled. He stared.

You began to head over to the people you were obviously here to meet. On nothing but pure instinct, he immediately got out of his stool and followed you. Falling into step behind you, he stretched a hand forward to hook a few fingers inside your elbow.

You looked back at him, and for a heart-breaking breath there was no recognition in your eyes.

Till he gave you a half-smile and said, “Hey Bo.”

You blinked, mouth dropping open. “Frankie?” you asked.

He nodded.

Your astonishment ballooned so wide it froze your whole face solid for a moment. Then you laughed, out of far more shock than amusement, and gave him a smile all his own. “Oh my god!! You’re here!”

You immediately wrapped him in a hug. And though it took him a moment to return it, for the first time in ten whole years, he was home.

Chapter 3: Not my Homeland Anymore

taglist: @kelenloth ; @darnitdraco ; @gracie7209 ; @616wilsons ; @icanbeyourjedi ; @astroboots ;

[jeongjaebae]

No mistletoe required

⇢ Jaehyun x reader  ⇢ 9.3k | AO3 ⇢ a cute and funny holiday college AU (lowkey enemies to lovers)

To your utter surprise and dismay, there's your neighbour. The one directly across from you who keeps turning the decorating into a competition, who happens to be setting up the next batch of lights on their door at this very moment. And that kind of ruins the previously good mood you were in, so you open the door to give them a piece of your mind. 

Why are you still here? Why are you still putting up decorations? Why are you turning this into a competition that I never asked to join— 

"Why are you shirtless." 

Or: There were three things you did not expect to encounter this holiday season. The first was to have someone else staying on campus over the winter break with you. The second, to have this person as your neighbour who tries to one-up you in Christmas decorations. The third, that this said neighbour would be hot.

Not going home for the holidays really wasn't the worst thing in the world. In fact, part of you was looking forward to doing whatever the heck you wanted without your roommates in the dorm, and not having any extended family members around to lie about having a good GPA or significant other to. Not that your GPA wasn't good, but the significant other category might need some work. Either way, you were excited to be able to finally bake Christmas cookies, decorate the entire apartment, and marathon your list of Christmas movies all while wearing your comfiest (ugliest) clothes and being sufficiently inebriated. There would be no one around to judge you while you screamed the lyrics to All I want for Christmas is You while dancing around in your pajamas. There would be no one around you for miles as even the RAs go home for the holidays.

It was like a dream come true.

"Today's going to be the day the rest of the door decorations go up," you announce to no one in particular. That's definitely another benefit of being all alone in this residence building—you could talk to yourself without sounding crazy. "They are long overdue so let's get this party started!"

There really weren't too many decorations left in your possession. You'd brought only a few things from home when you first moved in, like the cute ornament that looked exactly like your dog back home, a bow (for your hair but holiday decor takes priority right now), and a string of fairy lights that was originally for decorating your room but will now be taped onto the front door because you refuse to lose this unspoken decorations contest to the neighbour directly across from you.

This contest had begun a couple of weeks ago when you and your roommates had first put up a wreath on the door. It was already December at that point, so it wasn't exactly too early to start with the decorations, but with finals coming up none of the other students had decorated their doors. You'd thought the wreath that your roommate Rose brought was such a nice touch to remind everyone that the holidays were coming soon and that you'd all pull through with finals. Just a sign of hope and love and all the warm and coziness that you loved about Christmastime.

So when you opened the door later that afternoon and saw an identical wreath on your neighbour's door, you were stunned. You almost thought they stole it at first, but then seeing how yours was still there, that made you question some things. Maybe it was just a coincidence that they happened to have the same wreath, and they only put it up when they were reminded by seeing your wreath.

That was the first time, anyway.

A few days later, your roommates had brought out some pretty Christmas lights to wrap around the wreath. Again, it was just to lift the spirits of everyone during the dreadful time that is finals season. So you guys wrapped the lights carefully around the wreath, making sure that no one would trip on extension cords or anything like that. It ended up looking really nice and you were kind of proud of your festive door.

Until you saw your neighbour's door that also had an added string of Christmas lights.

Even worse, theirs did not simply wrap around the wreath like yours did but framed the entire door instead. It was as if they drew around the door frame with a highlighter because now all the attention would go straight to their door and leave yours completely drowned out.

The third time it happened was with the ornaments. You'd put your dog ornament on the wreath along with the other objects that your roommates had brought, some of which were pretty questionable (Rose's sparkly bottle cap, Jihyo's homemade felt gingerbread man, and Miyeon's earring?), but the overall vibe was still nice. It made the hallway feel more Christmassy than before and you knew that your copycat neighbour would not be able to mimic this.

But somehow they did.

You'd been trying to catch a glimpse of this lame neighbour through the peephole of your door all day, but the moment you stepped away for a much needed bathroom break, that's when their ornaments went up. You had come back from your under 30 seconds of a break and looked through the peephole and gawked at those twinkling ornaments—proper Christmas ornaments! The neighbour had hung them on the string of lights framing the door so that the lights bounced off and looked even brighter, shinier, warmer.

It also made you want to punch a wall.

That had been the week before finals. Your roommates were out of decorations at that point and you wanted to channel your anger into studying, so nothing had been done about the decorations. Unsurprisingly, your neighbours also did not add anything else to their door decor, which definitely squashed any chance of coincidence.

But now that everyone has gone home for the winter break, you were determined to put up the most extravagant decorations and have your neighbours come back to their defeat. The fairy lights in your room were ready for the world to see as you blasted a playlist of Christmas songs at decibels much higher than normally allowed. You had the tape in hand and were ready to go into battle. The door still had a ton of space below the wreath, so you started there and created a Christmas tree shape with the lights, taping them at every corner with the little battery holder acting as a base of the tree. Your bow hair accessory went at the very stop as a makeshift star, and you ripped out a sheet from your spiral lab notebook and cut off the ripped side to use as tinsel for this makeshift tree. It looked nice and cute and was definitely cooler than any traditional decorations.

"Okay, now that that's done I can finally get on with the Christmas cookies," you say to yourself.

The rest of the day was spent on baking some cute sugar cookies using Miyeon's cookie cutters of various non-holiday shapes, and some red and green food colouring which turned your icing into pink and green. So much for Christmas vibes. They were still cute though.

But just after you put the cookies in the oven, that's when you hear the creaking of a door and some shuffling sounds. You even turn down your music the slightest bit to hear what was going on because who could possibly still be here in this building? You had been certain that everyone would be going home and you hadn't heard a sound in days.

To your utter surprise and dismay, there's your neighbour. The one directly across from you who keeps turning the decorating into a competition, who is setting up the next batch of lights on their door at this very moment. You watch for a few seconds through the peephole as this mysterious competitor adjusts the lights on the door just slightly below the wreath, so all you could see was a hand.

And that kind of ruins the previously good mood you were in, so you open the door to give them a piece of your mind.

Why are you still here? Why are you still putting up decorations? Why are you turning this into a competition that I never asked to join—

"Why are you shirtless." You eye him up and down, the sight in front of you temporarily distracting you from the long speech you were planning on bombarding him with. "Um, that's so rude? You're basically giving everyone totally unsolicited naked pictures of you and your...abs, embedded into their minds forever."

That doesn't seem to startle him at all, as he simply stares back at you without missing a beat. "And," he looks at you up and down too, "your ugly Christmas sweater will be ingrained into my mind forever."

"Excuse you?" You weren't even wearing an ugly Christmas sweater though; this was just one of your regular cozy sweaters. "Well, is it hot in here or is it just you?" you spit out, the words dripping with sass.

Wait. What.

That came out totally wrong and was not at all how it sounded in your head.

He pauses for a second too but just breaks into a chuckle. "Why, thank you."

"I meant hot! In your apartment! You're the only one feeling the heat since you're clearly hot enough to be shirtless in the middle of winter!"

The corners of his lips raise the slightest bit along with an eyebrow, and that's when you knew he caught on to the last bit of what you said. "I'm hot enough to be shirtless?"

"You are not hot, okay? Like, opposite of hot. You're so freezing cold that I am going to leave before I get hypothermia" you lied through your teeth. Anyone who could say that he's not hot would be lying but that doesn't mean you'd ever admit it.

"So I'm too cool for you?"

"Bye, boy."

And with that you slam your door shut and collapse right against it.

That's the neighbour who's been secretly competing against your holiday decor? You hadn't pictured anyone in particular when you thought about the lame neighbour putting up decorations on their door, but this guy has got to be the farthest thing possible from anything in your realm of expectations. Even though you spent most of that interaction avoiding looking at him at all, you definitely saw enough. More like too much. But surely a guy who looks like every girl's quarterback frat boy crush with muscles like The Rock couldn't possibly be interested in being less than five feet away from Christmas decorations? And what was he still doing here anyways, away from all the friends and family back home?  

On top of that, now you had to continue this dumb contest for the rest of the break since you refused to let someone like that win at this.

***

The next day consisted of waking up to a drained laptop battery, your list of Christmas movies marked as complete, and no memory of having watched any of them because you'd fallen asleep near the beginning of the movie marathon. Cookies were left half eaten on the plate with crumbs everywhere and your mug had stains from the dried remnants of hot chocolate. It takes you a minute to collect yourself and for a good while, you'd forgotten about the awkward encounter with shirtless neighbour.

Until you hear him singing.

It wasn't a song that you recognized but that didn't matter because you were dazed. Firstly, that boy could sure sing. Yesterday his talking voice hadn't left any impressions on you probably because he hadn't said much and you were too busy noticing the insults that came out of that mouth, but his singing voice today is a whole different story. It's fairly deep but somehow still soft, and its timbre fits perfectly with the smooth R&B song he's singing. Of course you'd never admit it, but this was such a turn on and you did not know how to handle this information.

And secondly, it turns out the walls were not as soundproof as you thought, which meant he probably heard everything from your high notes screaming session to you talking to yourself about beating that dumbass neighbour at this stupid decorating contest. It was embarrassing, to say the least, but on the other hand, if he'd heard you through the walls then maybe he would know better than to sing and risk having you hear. Well, unless he's turning that into a competition too which may be a good possibility given how competitive he seems.

After eating an abnormally late breakfast at 3pm, you went to take out the large pile of trash that was overflowing the garbage can. It was long overdue but had just become an object in the background as everyone went through finals in the past few weeks. In short, it stank and was ruining your holiday mood.

There was something else that was ruining your holiday mood though. The first thing you see when you open the door to go take out the garbage... was your shirtless neighbour. Only he wasn't shirtless this time; he had a tee on but was still exposing those toned arms as he was, to your disbelief, still putting up some more decorations on their door. It seems like he actually did not copy your fairy lights idea yesterday because today he's taping up Christmas gift wrapping paper on the door. As if his apartment was a gift to anyone! You were sure that was a fire hazard or something but there were no RAs around to even report this to.

He freezes when you open your door and makes the most awkward eye contact with you for a few seconds too long.

"Wow, nice to see you in a shirt today," you say with heavy sarcasm dripping off those words. "Feeling kind of cold?"

"Nice to see you too." He doesn't take the bait but entirely changes the subject, a neutral but inviting expression on his face. "Hey, are your roommates here too?" And the dimples. Ugh, you could not look away from the dimples.

"What?" You pause. "Why?"

"Oh it's nothing, but I just keep hearing you talking to someone."

That's when it was your turn to freeze like a deer in headlights.

The thin walls. The singing this morning. Was it all so that he could make fun of you talking to yourself?!

"Excuse you? Just so you know, I still have more decorations that are much better than your corny wallpaper here. You aren't a gift, boy."

He simply chuckles but then gives you such a blinding smile. You hadn't paid attention to his face yesterday but with the shirt on today, it was a little easier to observe this competitive neighbour. And his smile, wow. "I'll be looking forward to seeing those."

Then you close the door and completely forgot about taking out the trash. Not the way this happens each time because of how much he infuriates you! But now it was too late to go out there because you'd be forced to run into him again, so you decided to wait until after he was done his door.

***

The video call comes at a good time as you'd finished a couple of Christmas movies and your fancy homecooked dinner of mac and cheese. It's not unexpected as your best friend and roommate, Rose, probably has some updates for you after her wild family gatherings.

"Hey, girl! How's it going?" You pick up on the first ring. You were surprisingly glad for the human interaction after being alone for nearly a week, but you suspect that her main motive for calling was to sneak away from her family holiday party.

"Wow, look at you all dressed up in festive pajamas!" She squeals. "They're so cute!"

"Thanks girl! Gotta be festive around here." Maybe you'd be embarrassed if it were anyone else on that video call, especially if they were all dressed up like Rose today, but she's been your best friend since middle school and you've all seen each other in plenty of embarrassing outfits on the daily. "How's your holiday going?"

"It's been good but pretty tiring. You would not believe the amount of drama my cousin has been trying to start." Rose breaks out into a chuckle. "But how have you been surviving there all alone without us?"

"Christmas movie marathons and cookies all day! It's been so nice to finally get a break from school and people, you know? Oh, except there's this annoying neighbour still here who keeps trying to compete with me for best decorated door or something." You roll your eyes. "Can you believe it? Who would do such a thing?"

"Oh, he's still doing that?"

"Yeah, unfortunately? I keep running into him too, like every time I step out—wait. You know him?"

She stares at you for just a second too long before responding. "W-what do you mean?"

"You asked if he's still here, but I hadn't even mentioned this neighbour's gender or anything yet."

"Oh nah," she brushes it off, "I didn't mean anyone specific but... Y/N?"

"Yes?"

Her voice drops down to a whisper as she leans in towards the camera. "Are you talking about Jaehyun?"

"Jaehyun?"

"You know, the one who looks like he should be walking the runway even in sweats and a tee."

You don't say anything but shoot her a questioning look.

"Oh come on. Broad shoulders, toned arms, probably has abs. Dimples and a nice face to top it off?"

"His name is Jaehyun?" you say lamely. "Wow, I was expecting something cooler. Like even Jay or something."

"So he is who you were talking about? Isn't he so hot?"

"Well," you hesitate. You would never admit that you actually saw the abs that she was imagining. Or that he does indeed belong at a photoshoot way more than he does in front of his door hanging ornaments. "He's okay I guess?"

"Just okay?"

You nod slowly. "Why? Don't tell me you... like him or something."

"What? No, Y/N, of course not! He's in my bio tutorial and we happened to bump into each other while walking back to the dorm one day, but that's it. Nothing to worry about."

"Okay, sure?" you say, unconvinced.

"Seriously! He's interested in someone else, okay?"

"You guys are close enough for him to tell you that?"

"I—" Rose stops and turns around to look behind her. "Shoot, my cousin found me. Sorry Y/N, I gotta go! Bye—"

Then the call ends. Even though you definitely did not see her cousin in the background.

It was nice to talk to your best friend again, but that conversation leaves you feeling strange. You're confused as to why she would word vomit about how hot Jaehyun was, then immediately try to convince you that she didn't like him in that way. You've all had crushes throughout the years and told each other eagerly about them, so why was she adamantly denying this one? If this had been a conversation in person, you'd probably be able to tell whether she was telling the truth or not based on the appearance or absence of stars in her eyes, but it was difficult to tell since it was a low quality video call after all. Maybe you'll grill her about it once she gets back.

That wasn't all though. There was a feeling you couldn't quite pinpoint, but it wasn't positive. Maybe you were slightly bothered by the fact that Rose hadn't told you about this crush? Or maybe you were feeling left out because she somehow knew this rival neighbour really well while you were left in the dark, trying to figure out who kept copying your Christmas decorations. That's probably it—you were disappointed that Rose hadn't told you that she knew the culprit all along!

Then another thought hits you when you're least expecting it. He's single. It's something that never even crossed your mind since you just started assuming that hot people at this age were all off the market and you'd die all alone. Not that him being single has anything to do with you not dying alone, but maybe Rose has a chance now if she really liked him. Nah, she's too good for a cutthroat Christmas decorator like him.

After washing your stack of dirty dishes in the sink, you finally take out the trash but not before checking for enemies through the peephole. Luckily enough, shirtless neighbour, Jaehyun, was not there. Unfortunately enough, his door actually looked quite nice with the wrapping paper on it. He chose one on the simpler side so that it wouldn't clash with the ornaments but it matched with the lights on the doorframe so well that it made you feel warm and fuzzy inside for just a second until you remembered whose door this was.

And then you remembered the bluff you so confidently stated earlier today.

So now you find yourself staring at the storage box at the top shelf of your closet because of that bluff you'd made so confidently earlier. The reality was that you weren't sure if you even had anything useful in this storage box but had to check for the sake of that bluff. You refused to lose to him at decorating, but even more than that, you refused to admit that he was right. So up the step ladder you went, standing so carefully as to not tip over and fall while dragging down everything with you. The top shelf was still quite high despite your height boost and tiptoes were still needed to reach the big cardboard box. You hoped that it was at least light but don't quite remember what you'd packed in there, so you grabbed it by the two sides and began slowly shifting it towards the edge of the shelf.

The last thing you register was hearing your own voice. Screaming very loudly.

Adrenaline coursing, blood roaring, heart pounding. You don't feel the impact as you hit the carpeted floor, nor the step ladder and the storage box and all the other items in your closet tumbling after you. It becomes a big mess on the floor of your room, looking like the closet vomited out half its contents. Unfortunately, most of it was on top of you so the clothing did nothing to cushion your fall. You would probably be feeling the ache tomorrow but for now, there was something even worse to deal with.

"Are you okay?" a voice suddenly asks. You nearly scream again. "What's going on?"

"I—um." The state of shock was still affecting your mind, so you simply decided to point up for your not-shirtless neighbour to see. "Spider."

And there it was, all of its eight legs attached to your wall right beside the box you were getting. You could've touched it! Your hand totally could've brushed it! The thought of it makes you squeeze your eyes shut and suppress a shiver.

"Wow, a big one," he says as he looks around and finally decides on some random tissue you had lying on your desk. He kills it in one swift motion, making sure not to leave any of its... bodily remains on your wall. Then he goes to dispose of it as you sit there wondering if this was all a dream and that someone actually dealt with your spider problem and made it look so easy.

Despite the rivalry between the two of you, at that moment, there was nothing more attractive than a guy who could kill bugs for you. The abs were just a bonus.

"All gone; nothing to worry about now." Jaehyun reaches out a hand. "But are you okay? That sounded like quite the fall."

"Yeah, just fine." You gingerly take his hand as your head is still spinning and he pulls you out of the giant pile. You're thankful for his firm grip but what you notice instead is how soft and big his hand is.

He catches you when you stumble. "Careful," he puts his arm around you and guides you to the bed. "Wait, you're bleeding."

"What?"

"Stay right here. I'll go get a first aid kit."

You sigh as he leaves, suddenly feeling exhausted and actually glad to be taken care of for once. The thought of Christmas decorations leaves your mind and is replaced by the feeling of his arm around you, the faint smell of his body wash, how he reached the spider so easily without even stretching too far and certainly without using the step stool. And now he's getting a first aid kit for you? This definitely must be a dream.

"You didn't hit your head, right?"

Oh. Right. That was probably why your thoughts are all strange.

Jaehyun settles into the chair opposite you, alcohol wipe and cotton swab in hand. "This cut must've been from the corner of the box. Might sting a bit."

You hardly paid attention to anything he just said because suddenly there's the way he leans towards you so, so closely. The rest of the world starts to blur into the background as you feel his hand gently brush your skin, the worry and care in his eyes so genuine. Any feelings of self consciousness seem to melt away, the close distance between you not uncomfortable but rather perfect for slowly leaning in and—

"Ow!" you hear in your own voice again. He'd started cleaning the area on your left cheek with the alcohol wipe and it was the sting that seemed to jolt you from the strange thoughts.

Maybe you really did hit your head because what was all that?

"Sorry," he flashes a smile and has the audacity to laugh at your pain. "Need to make sure this won't get infected."

"You brought this first aid kit from your place?" you ask dully.

"Well, didn't know where you keep yours so..." He opens a tube of ointment and squeezes it carefully onto the cotton swab.

"Wait, how did you even get here in the first place? No, why did you come here?"

The smile on his face only grows. "Your door was unlocked, obviously. And I heard you scream followed by several loud thuds. Is that good enough?"

"Yeah, but why did you come here? I would've been just fine."

"I had to make sure that my lovely neighbour wasn't dead, alright? Otherwise who's going to continue our little holiday contest and lose?"

"Okay, first of all, you would lose. Second, you should've left me for dead," you grumble. "No one wants to participate in your stupid contest."

"Oh, come on. I thought you were enjoying it since you promised to show me all the decorations you still have." He opens a bandage and places it ever so gently on your cheek. "All done."

"I could've done that myself you know."

At that, he raises an eyebrow at you, grin still plastered on his face. "You really would've killed that spider that caused all of this?"

"How dare you—I might've? But you caused all of this actually. If it weren't for that dumb competition then why would I be up in my closet looking for that box of stuff?"

It was true enough. You wouldn't have looked for this box and you wouldn't have seen that spider. And he would absolutely not be here dealing with you battle scars.

"Oh." Surprisingly enough, that smile he had on disappears and he actually looks kind of guilty. "I'm sorry."

"Right."

"No, really. I feel bad that this happened because of something so silly. Let me make it up to you; no more competitions, no more decorations."

You almost heave a sigh in relief after hearing those words. It was like a dream come true as you've wanted nothing more than to have this decoration obligation off your back, though not if it was because he assumed you were going to lose.

So you're still suspicious.

"And how exactly are you going to do that?"

"Hmm. Let me treat you to a meal?"

You look him up and down. "I'd rather stay in."

"We can stay in and get takeout or delivery?"

"I'd rather eat alone."

"Oh come on." He has the audacity to pout at you now. "What's the point of spending the holidays alone?"

"Well, actually I've been having a lot of fun on my own."

"But doesn't it get... lonely?"

Maybe. You shake your head. "Not really."

He heaves a dramatic sigh. "How about just one night? And if you really hate it that much then I won't bother you again."

You sigh too, equally as dramatic. "Fine. But only because I'll get to beat you at whatever games you have planned."

"I'd love to see that." The grin is back on his face in full force, dimples and eyes both seeming to twinkle.

"But why do you even want to spend time with me?"

"Well, we're the only two people on campus and we happen to be neighbours?"

You stifle your laugh at his goofy expression. "Okay, fine. Please don't make it weird though."

"Weird how?"

"You know, those apocalyptic stories about the last two people on earth having to do you-know-what in order to survive and procreate and all that."

If he had a drink in his mouth, you're sure it'd be sputtering out by the way he half laughs and half chokes.

"Um, no. I have not heard of anything like that, but I think we can confirm that I'm not the one making it weird right now."

"Hey, you were the one rude enough to go walking around shirtless!"  

"I'm just kidding." He smiles that dazzling dimpled smile again. "No competitions, no decorations, and no weirdness. Deal?"

You purse your lips. "Deal, but also, shirts are a must. And pants. Don't you dare pull anything funny."

"Deal. Oh, but before I forget," he pulls out his phone and unlocks it. "I hope this isn't considered part of the weirdness."

"Hmm." It's the 'add new contact' page on his phone that he hands you, of course. "I'll let you off the hook just this once."

You add your name and number as well as a description of 'your amazing neighbour who's better at decorating' before handing it back to him.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm—"

"Jaehyun."

"You remem—you know my name?" His eyes widen, an eyebrow raised.

You shrug. "Yeah, Rose gave me your name."

"Rose talked to you about me?" Eyes flicker briefly and the corners of lips settle into a sort of frown. "What else did she say?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because—why were you guys even talking about me?"

"She literally called to say that there is absolutely nothing going on between you guys." You roll your eyes at just remembering that strange conversation. "But in any case, I'll have you know that I think she's way too good for you."

"And I'll have you know that there's absolutely nothing going on between her and me," Jaehyun crosses his arms, eyebrows furrowed. Yet at the same time he somehow looked relieved, body slack against the wall and not tense like a moment ago.

"Whatever you say," you shrug. "Oh, but she did mention there's someone you're interested in."

"What?!"

You definitely save his name in your phone as 'stupid shirtless decorating neighbour'.

***

The next few days consisted of some simple exchanges through text. The hangout was planned for Christmas Eve which was still a few days away, and as much as you didn't exactly want to be talking to him, you find your gaze wandering to your phone whenever it lights up with his name flashing across the screen.

Yes, it was just a hangout, not a date. You'd be staying in, acting casual, and there would be no weirdness involved as the two of you had agreed. Besides, you didn't even like him. At this point you could only bring yourself to admit that he was quite attractive and that your annoyance with him might've died just a little when you watched him save you from the spider and treat your wound. But now there was a new annoyance stemming from how rudely this guy was showing off all of his perfection (all six feet of it!) right in your face. Who does he think is he? You just know that you're lucky he isn't in any of your classes because this competition might've started way earlier with test grades or whatnot.

The point was that you couldn't wrap your head around why he would suddenly want to hang out with you. Based on his previous actions, it was to probably beat you in various video games or in something that should not even be a competition.

You decide to video call Rose to ask her for advice on how to better prepare you for this war.

"Did I interrupt?" is the first thing you say when Rose's face comes on the screen. She seems to be at the table in the middle of a meal, but it didn't look like a restaurant nor did you recognize it as anywhere in her house. "I can call back later."

"Nah, it's fine! How are things going on your side?"

Before you could answer, you see a guy walk into the frame. And recognize him immediately. You lower your voice, "Are you with our TA?"

"Um..." She only shrugs at you but you could see her flashing a smile at the guy who walks out of the frame. Who you're sure is the TA of your psychology class.  

"Rose, are you on a date with our TA?" you whisper.

"Sorry, I'll be right back," she says to him, before the background changes and you could see her walking to a different room. "Okay, yes, you caught me."

"How long has this been going on for?"

"Not long at all! It's a long story though and I'll tell you in person first thing when I get back. But hey, didn't I tell you that there was nothing going on between me and Jaehyun?"

"That's the first thing you decide to bring up?"

"Well, I just wanted to make sure you knew." She rolls her eyes. "Anyways, how are things going over there?"

You sigh deeply, ready to launch into the drama that is your life. "I may or may not have a hangout with him in a couple of days."

"What?!" she shrieks, making you nearly throw your phone. Her loud voice also invokes an 'are you okay?' from your TA, which you still could not wrap your head around. "Wow, that was quick."

"Calm down, girl, it's just a hangout. And yes, it's way too quick because I don't even know him? Don't know why he would want to hang out but I'm guessing it's probably to turn everything in a competition."

"Just because of that thing with the door decor?" She laughs. "I think you're reading too much into it. Just enjoy the holidays with some company! Besides, how do you know he doesn't want this to be a date?"

"Well, we agreed that there would be nothing weird, and also, doesn't he like someone already? So it'll just be chill and casual."

"Where are you guys going for this?"

"Literally nowhere," you stifle a laugh at the thought, "just his place right across the hall."

She snorts, "Oh man, good luck to him cleaning that up."

"Why, is it like super messy or something?" You wouldn't be surprised as it's a boys' dorm after all.

"Y/N, it's a next level mess in there, and nothing sparks joy. Trust me, Marie Kondo would definitely lose her mind seeing that mess of a place."

"You've been over to his place?"

"For a bio project! You'd think he could've picked the library or something but no, I had to trip over multiple piles of clothes lying around." She rolls her eyes, a smile on her face. "Sorry, I shouldn't be talking to you about all this. Don't worry! It'll be fun."

"I sure hope so?" You raise an eyebrow at her.

"Well if you really want to keep up with this contest of yours, I have an idea. I mean, only if you want to get back at him for the decorating thing or whatever stunt he pulls. Just in case."

"Um. I'm listening."

She leans closer to the camera, looking ready to spill some big secret. "You guys should make it a formal event. Get all dolled up—don't give me that look; I know you've missed dressing up since before finals. Anyways, get your fancy dress and makeup on and see who can clean up better. I know you've got some skills, so this is something you'd definitely win."

"But we're not even going out," you whine, "it's literally going to be twenty feet away."

"It's just an excuse to dress up, Y/N. Besides, if it's at his place you won't be freezing in your dress."

"I don't know—I feel like this kind of violates our 'nothing weird' rule."

She shrugs, "Well, it's only a competition if you're winning." Then she flashes you one of her hundred-watt smiles. "Just ask him. Okay, I gotta go. Talk to you soon?"

"Yeah, sure."

***

Jaehyun agrees to it, to your surprise.

You're not sure what kind of reaction he had as it was all done through text, but he didn't ask anything and just went along with it.

When Christmas Eve finally comes around, you pick out the most glamorous dress in your closet with some pieces of jewelry to match with it. The silvery material shimmers and glitters, bouncing light in so many directions it seems to make you radiate a type of confidence you could only wish you had. It was something you've never even worn before because of how revealing it was, but you'd brought to college with you in case of special events. And well, even though this was definitely not a special event, it still turned out to be a good decision because maybe you'd be able to beat him at his own game of so rudely showing off.  

But the moment you knock on his still gift-wrapped door is when you knew that these contests never go very well for you.

"What. Is. All. This." were the first words out of your mouth as you stood there in shock. In fear. In awe.

"Hmm? You said you wanted it to be a fancy event, so I just made it fancy...?"

"I—"

You had no words for this.

The lighting was dimmed with only the flickering candles on a tabletop and fairy lights swirling right above it creating a soft glow in the room. There was a beautiful red tablecloth with expensive looking plates ready to be served with whatever food was behind the delicious smell remaining in the air. A bottle of red wine and empty wine glasses. His apartment was spotless and not at all what you imagined it to look like, especially after Rose's spiel the other day about how messy it was. You don't doubt he spent a lot of time and effort to clean the place and set all this up, but this was way beyond anything your imagination could've thought of.

And lastly, there was him. If you'd just expected him to simply have a shirt on, he definitely went above and beyond the low expectations you had. Here he was standing in a white dress shirt tucked into black dress pants. Sleeves rolled up. Hair gelled up and slicked back. There was no ounce of imperfection in him or in this entire set up, and suddenly the outfit you picked out seems so insignificant. You could already taste the disappointment of losing a battle you'd had all intentions of winning.

Another thing that worried you was that this didn't look like the setting for a hangout. This looked like the type of place rich people eat at, where proposals happen, where anniversaries are celebrated, where you might even run into a celebrity. You definitely shouldn't have listened to Rose's advice because now it just seems like you played yourself.

"Do you not like it?"

"No, it's fine but Jaehyun, it's just—a little weird."

"A little weird? Yeah, I thought so too." He looks down, leaning against the wall as if unsure where he was supposed to go, what he was supposed to do. Not that far from your own situation.

"I shouldn't have asked for this fancy hangout," you say under your breath, then quickly change the subject before things continued down this slippery slope of awkwardness. "Anyways, I don't see a tree in here. What happened, Mr. I-have-better-decorations-than-you?"

"No tree this year, but I do have a gingerbread kit?"

"And what, were you going to put that on your door too?" You roll your eyes at him. "Let's put it together it right now."

"It was definitely an option but you're the one who wanted the fancy date." He shrugs at you innocently.

"I just wanted a chance to dress up, okay? You can't possibly comment on this," you gesture at the dress, "the way you made fun of my sweaters."

There's no expression on his face as he gives you a glance over then quickly looks away. "You look...good."

"Thanks, I know." You do a hair flip in his face just for emphasis. "Okay, let's get to it! And would you turn some lights on already?"

It turns out, decorating a gingerbread house became a lot like decorating the door to your apartment. Unintentionally. It's not like you were highly competitive by nature, but there's something about his calm demeanour, his laidback gaze, and the way his lips curl at the corners that irks you because you wanted to break down those walls and see something real. Who does he think he is, looking and acting so perfect on your supposedly casual hangout?

Besides, it wasn't your idea to see whose side of the gingerbread house looks better.

"We must look so silly doing this," you comment. "Two people all dressed up in fancy clothes just to build a gingerbread house."

"It's totally part of today's itinerary of fancy activities. Just look at how fancy my side is?" He turns the tray so you could see it. "It's looking like a mansion over here."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at him but you'd expected nothing less. "Then I guess it would suck if someone decided to ruin it."

Holding his gaze as if a challenge, you take the tube of pink icing in your hand and squeeze it generously all over his side of the gingerbread house. It was like a thick coat of fluffy pink clouds on the roof, in the yard, and all over the windows.

His jaw drops. "You. Did. Not."

"I think I did," you tease, the biggest smile you've worn in days on your lips from just getting a reaction out of him. "And I'll do this too." He definitely does not expect it when the huge blob of the pink icing on your finger gets dabbed onto his cheek.

"You're not getting away with this, Y/N." That's the last thing Jaehyun says before he starts chasing you down with a tube of blue icing in his hands.

Then it becomes a game of running around the apartment in circles, occasionally getting close enough to place another wad of icing on him but also for him to cover you with it. Until you decide to grab the icing sugar and use that as your next weapon.

The first pinch of it lands on his face and coats it like a foundation far too light. The image of him— stopped in his tracks, lips pursed and trying to blow the sugar off, blinking with disbelief—was enough to supply you a year of happiness so that's when you let your guard down and pause to wholeheartedly laugh at him. But that's also when the icing sugar came flying at you.

In the end, both of your fancy clothes and tidied hair ended up being coated with icing sugar, as well as the apartment he'd put so much effort into cleaning. And you didn't mind at all for it worked in giving you a glimpse of someone real behind the mask of perfection that he had been wearing in the few times you'd seen him so far. Someone who isn't just abs and a pretty face, nor just competitions and winning.

Basically, someone you could like.

Dinner passes by in a breeze with delicious foods and surprisingly easy conversation. Maybe it should've felt like an awkward first date with how little you knew about each other and how you've barely seen each other before this point, but it wasn't like that at all. It was hard to define because it wasn't quite like talking to an acquaintance, yet friendship would be too tight of a term to describe this relationship. He felt familiar, like an old friend that you knew you could share everything with despite knowing him no better then a stranger. But perhaps that was from the amount of wine you both drank; while it wasn't your drink of choice, it was definitely helpful in facilitating a lot of laughter as you kept breaking out in giggles and he definitely couldn't keep a straight face.

Time was slowing as the two of you collapsed on the couch afterwards, satisfied from a hearty meal. You found yourself suddenly dreading the inevitable end to your time here, though the warmth of the wine pushes that thought away.  

"If we were outside, that would've totally been a snowball fight," you mention, looking out the window where fluffy snowflakes started to float through the air. It seemed like a Christmas miracle for it to be snowing so unexpectedly but maybe this year will give you a beautiful white Christmas.

The corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles so brightly even with the dim lighting of the room. "Then we could've also been making snow angels or a fort."

"Sorry for dirtying your floor though." You couldn't help but giggle. "It was so clean before all this."

"Don't worry, this isn't even as bad is it usually is," he confesses with a laugh.

"Yeah, Rose told me all about that."

"She did? Oh I'm so going to kill her."

The two of you burst out laughing at that, leaning over in a way that has your hand lightly brushing against his.  

"It's not all terrible though. It almost looks like it snowed in here too," you say, admiring the sprinkles of icing sugar scattered all across the floor that looks nothing like actual snow, but it's nice to think of it that way. "Icing sugar everywhere."

Everything you look at seems to glow and sparkle with the heat of the wine still swirling through your body, heart racing, cheeks hot, the world spinning just slightly. And it's not like you were completely drunk, but instead it felt more like you were drunk on life with small, happy thoughts bubbling through your veins—how cozy this place was, how it's the holidays, how you actually enjoyed spending time with Jaehyun and how things turned out much better than you could've possibly imagined. It was nothing like the image of competitive gaming with the frat boys that Rose had put in your mind; this was the most romantic thing that anyone's ever done for you even if it wasn't intending to be more than a casual hangout.

Then there was how attractive Jaehyun looked as he's seated right beside you, hair dishevelled from earlier, a faint pink dusting his face, shirt unbuttoned just low enough to expose the top of his chest. Icing sugar at the corner of his lips where a faint smile rests.

When you look back up, his eyes meet yours and you have to urge to quickly look away, cheeks blazing from knowing you'd been caught staring a moment too long. But instead, a sudden stroke of courage compels you to hold his gaze, perhaps to see a reaction, perhaps as a question silently lingering in the room for much of the night.

"Mhm, it's beautiful," he says softly, still not moving his gaze from where it rests on you. "You still have some right here," he says softly, leaning in slightly as his hand brushes across your heated cheeks. Everything seems to happen in slow motion when he reaches your bottom lip, thumb grazing gently.

And suddenly it was like a repeat of what happened just days earlier. When he meets your eyes again this time, his dark pupils are twinkling in an answer to your question, luring you into their gravity until you're sinking, eyes closing, slowly getting lost in him.

Sparks fly at the slightest brush of his lips on yours and that's enough to abruptly drag you out of the moment you were swept into.

"Wait, Jaehyun—we agreed not to make things weird."

As much as you wanted to just kiss him right then and there, there was still some part of your mind that was telling you to stay away from this slippery slope. That things will be different after the rose-coloured lenses of alcohol and lust fade, that the weird that you both had tried so hard to avoid would end up happening and ending badly.

"Um, right. Sorry." He looks away, refusing to meet your eyes as his cheeks redden, unrelated from the wine. "Y/N... it's just that I've liked you for so long."

Out of all the things you thought he would say, this was nowhere near any of it. His words catch you totally off guard and seem to immediately sober you up.

"What? What do you mean?"

He sighs softly, a hand running through his hair and a hand on yours, tentatively.

"I'm not sure if you remember but we went to the same middle school." Jaehyun pauses, his eyes searching yours for a reaction but you don't dare breathe, waiting for him to continue. "I know this was so long ago and it shouldn't even matter anymore but middle school wasn't really a good time for me."

You take his hand in yours, encouraging him to go on.

"Kids could be so cruel back then, you know?" He smiles sadly. "But you were the only person who showed me such kindness. I could never forget that, Y/N."

"Middle school?"

He confirms with a small nod and that's when you think back. Middle school wasn't a good time for you either and it probably wasn't for anyone, but nothing in particular stood out in your mind. You had a small group of friends back then and got good grades. You were in the school's band and might've been teacher's pet one year. There wasn't exactly anyone bullying you, but there was one girl who was mean and made up rumours about you and some guy you didn't even know. That guy turned out to be really nice though, and the two of you ended up as good friends as a result of that rumour. But all that ended when his family moved right before high school and you never saw him or contacted him again.  

"Sorry, I don't really recall. Were you in my class? There really weren't any boys in my life back then, like the only guy that I can recall is Hyunnie." You smile just thinking about the memories. "He was a good guy. Not sure what happened to him but I kind of liked him."

Jaehyun says nothing but you could see a hint of a smile that he was trying to hold back.

"What, you also know Hyunnie?"

He still remains silent, this time shrugging his shoulders the tiniest bit as he bites his lips.

"Then? Wait—" You gasp when it hits you. "Wait. We all called him Hyunnie but... Hyunnie. Jaehyun. That's—no," you shake your head, "there's no way. That's impossible."

"Y/N," he weaves his fingers with yours.

"You're joking." You stare at him to try to put the pieces together. The Hyunnie you remembered was a small, chubby boy with glasses so big they seem to cover his whole face while his bangs would cover the rest of it as if seeming to hide him from the world. Maybe initially you just wanted to support him as the rumours tied the two of your together, but after getting to know him better you realized he was very kind and genuine. And that's when your admiration for him started.

"Remember the secret code names we had? And the glow in the dark watch? And our mad minute competitions?"

"You're Hyunnie," you breathe, still shocked.

"Yeah," he whispers.

"But—why didn't you say anything at the time?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't feel the same," he looks away, not meeting your eyes. "I thought moving away would help me get rid of my feelings...but it didn't work."

"Why were you so sure about that? Why wouldn't I feel the same?"

"Is it not obvious? I—wasn't exactly someone you would be proud to be with. You were so sweet and popular and gorgeous. You had so many people wanting to be with you, and I—I was nothing.

"Don't say that! I was so happy that you were one of my closest friends." You pause. "Also, how could you be so wrong?" You roll your eyes at him, at all the silly things that once felt like the end of the world but are now so trivial when looking back.

"Was I wrong?"

"Yes! I liked you too, okay? I don't care what you look like. Jaehyun, you don't know how hard it was for me after you left without a trace."

"I'm sorry. I can only promise you that it will never happen again." Then he pouts. "Also, I worked so hard for these abs just to hear you say you don't care what I look like. Wow, I'm hurt."

That makes you burst out laughing. "They're definitely nice, but you are worth so much more than what you look like. And don't think that I wouldn't like you for who you are."

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning in just a little closer.

"Okay."

"Never think that you're not good enough."

A hand cupping your cheek, tracing your jaw. Even closer.

"Okay."

"And don't ever leave me like that again."

His lips hesitate just for a moment.

"Okay."

Then they're crashing on yours, the electricity between you crackling so loud it blocks out the rest of the world as your mind is only filled with Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun. His lips are sweet like the cotton candy you had back in seventh grade, lingering on your teeth at the amusement park, turning his tongue bright blue. His touch is gentle, ebbs and flows like the ocean during the eighth grade beach trip, water gently lapping at your feet, sand between your toes and between entangled fingers. His scent surrounds you like a warm hug on a cold day, like a hoodie too big to fit your shoulders while sitting outside of the school after the dance. All the memories flooding back make your mind spin; the things you've forgotten, the ones you've buried, and the fragments that he'd taken when he left, now brought back to their rightful place.

As the clock struck twelve, there were only whispered words of Merry Christmas in between lingering kisses, racing hearts, brushes of bare skin.

It wasn't weird like you were afraid tonight would go. What you once thought to be awkward and strange turned out to be so right, so perfect. Sure, it might hurt to know that there was all this lost time between you, but now you could make up for that by spending the rest of it getting to know each other again. Learning and relearning each other until there was only a seamless connection between the past and the present, an invisible red string tying the two of you together.

And maybe you did lose all these competitions to him but they never really mattered to you anyways especially when you gained back an old friend, a first love, a soulmate.

[dcforts]

[day 4: cooking and baking]

Now, Bobby Singer didn’t always exactly enjoy having Sam and Dean around – he was used to living alone and he liked his routine; they got loud when they bickered and he always had to make sure they were clean and fed and far from the stuff he had laying around that they weren’t supposed to touch.

He never wanted to be a father after all, nor get stuck running a daycare for hunters for that matter, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say no to John whenever he asked, even if he had his garage to run and hunting on the side.

He felt bad for them. He might have known nothing about raising children, but he sure knew that they were supposed to have a home, not to be dragged across the country in an old car, exposed to all kinds of dangers.

So, if washing an extra set of bedsheets and hiding his booze and getting a headache or two from their feet stomping upstairs meant giving them a roof over their head for a few days, a familiar place where to feel safe and proper food in their belly – if one could count canned soup as proper food – then he could bite the bullet.

And they were good kids, they always did what he told them and never complained about anything.

Even when one year they got stuck at his place on Christmas Eve. The air was heavy around the dinner table and Bobby had turned on the tv in an attempt to liven up the atmosphere and distract them. Still, they remained quiet, hunched over their plates wearing gloomy faces.

Their father was supposed to pick them up but he’d called and said he wasn’t gonna make it. Bobby knew it was gonna happen as soon as he’d heard the phone ringing that afternoon.

"But it’s Christmas!” he’d hissed angrily trying not to be heard by the kids, “What am I supposed to tell them?”

“Uh - I don’t know, Bobby," John had replied, with that tone he got when he was uninterested in what you were saying and had already uncorked one too many beers. "It’s just this one time.”

When Bobby had delivered the news, Dean had shouted "Why hasn’t he called me?" and Sam had grumbled "You should have convinced him", so they most likely hated him too.

Bobby didn’t take it personally, if he were a kid he sure wouldn’t have liked to spend Christmas with someone like him and without his only parent.

Bobby didn’t do holidays at all. He hanged a wreath on the front door just cause he kept it in the hallway all year round. He made himself a turkey sandwich. He enjoyed a classic movie just as the next guy and he passed out on the couch with a glass of store-bought eggnog. That was it. It was not like he had anyone to share it with. It had been like that for years and he didn’t mind. 

Knowing that the kids would be around though, he’d hanged on the window a string of lights he’d found in the basement and had put on display a weird looking statue of an elf - although if he wasn’t sure if it was Christmas related or just an old dark artifact. The boys had spared those things barely a glance and not brought up Christmas at all so Bobby had just figured that they didn’t do holidays either.

But then a commercial featuring a big holiday banquet came on tv for the umpteenth time, filling the kitchen with its obnoxious jingle and Dean finally spoke up.

“Hey Bobby,” he asked, tearing his eyes from the tv. “Did your mother ever bake for the holidays?”

Bobby didn’t even remember the last time he’d talked about his mother with anyone. It always brought up bittersweet memories he didn’t like to deal with. Still, he cleared his throat, “Sure,” he said, but now Sam was watching him too so he added, “she was a good baker - made a mean blueberry pie.”

Dean gave him a small smile. “Really?”

“Yeah, and she’d always make two, one for everyone and another one just for me."

“A whole pie? Just for you?" Sam asked with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"I could eat that," intervened Dean immediately.

Bobby snorted, “Yeah, I know that, kid."

Dean smiled proudly, but then Sam said "You couldn’t, Dean. You’d get sick."

"No, I wouldn’t," he shot back.

"Yes, you would. Not even an adult can - "

"What do you know, if you never - ”

“I know - ”

Bobby groaned and got up from the table to start collecting the dirty dishes, "Alright, break it up".

They fell into silence again as he put the dishes in the sink and started washing them.

"Go get ready for bed."

He heard the scraping of chair legs on the floorboards, but he was still thinking about his mother and didn’t realize that only one pair of shoes had left the room and the other one had come to stand next to him.

"Does your oven work?" Dean said, making him jump.

"Wh- my oven? Yeah. Why?”

"Just ‘cause... you never use it," was his reply, a little unsure.

"That don’t mean it don’t work."

"Have you ever used it?”

"Can’t remember, honestly.”

"Mum used to bake pies for me too," Dean said then. "Sammy wasn’t there so he gets upset when I talk about it."

Bobby gave him half a smile. "Bet Mary's pies were the best, uh?”

"Yeah", he said, but he sounded thoughtful. He still made no move to leave and Bobby didn’t know what else to say. The last thing he wanted was to make the boy sad, or worse, make him cry for his mom.

He started working faster on drying those dishes.

"Maybe your father remembers the recipe. You should ask him,” he said, casually.

Apparently it was the wrong thing to say. Dean tugged the hem of his jacket and looked at him with the most scared expression Bobby had ever seen on him. “Don’t!" he said, "Please. Dad doesn’t like talking about these things. Don’t tell him I told you."

Bobby gritted his teeth and tried to not let his rage show on his face. He put down the rag and grabbed one of his shoulder, “It’s okay, Dean. I won’t.”

Dean gulped and quickly nodded and Bobby itched for a drink.

“Now go. It’s time for bed.”

"Yes, sir," said Dean.

“You don’t have to cal-” he started, then sighed, “Nevermind. Just go.”

As he heard the door upstair close he opened the highest cabinet and grabbed his bottle of scotch. He sat down to pour himself a glass, took his cap off and rubbed his forehead.

His hands tightened into fists at the thought of John. How could he leave them like that? What would’ve happened if he’d died on a hunt? Who would have cared for them? Bobby certainly couldn’t – John couldn’t possibly expect –

The tv was still on.

His second glass was already empty when that stupid holiday commercial with that stupid jingle came on once again. Annoyed, Bobby stood up to turn it off and that’s when Dean came to his mind and a thought hit him.

The kid wanted a damn pie.

He just didn’t know how to ask, or even if he could ask. And of course he would think that, with that father of his, his taboos and his rules. Bobby felt anger and stubborness rise in him.

If the kid wanted a goddamn pie, Bobby would’ve given him a goddamn pie. Even if he had to drive for miles at the crack of dawn on Christmas Day for blueberries.

And now where the fuck did he put Karen’s recipe book?

*

The morning after, he cracked the bedroom door open and Dean blinked awake as soon as he brushed his shoulder.

“Don’t wake your brother. Come downstairs," he whispered, motioning him to be quiet.

In the daylight Bobby was willing to admit that he was a little nervous about his idea.

Yet he couldn’t resist watching Dean’s face as he entered the kitchen ten minutes later and stopped in his track when he saw flour, eggs, sugar and blueberries lined up on the counter.

It was like his face couldn’t settle on an emotion. He frowned, smiled, frowned again. Then he just looked at Bobby as if he was asking him what he was supposed to do or say.

"I was thinking it’s about time I make that oven work again. What you say? Wanna bake your own pie?"

Dean surprised himself with a laugh. "But Bobby - I don’t – I never -"

"What, you think I do?" Bobby shrugged, "If it’s bad, we’ll just throw it out."

Dean seemed too overwhelmed to say anything. He just nodded.

Bobby went towards him. "See, I got this book here, it was my wife’s. We’re more than capable to follow a bunch of instructions, right?"

It took way longer than Bobby had anticipated, and surely longer than it generally took other people. And it wasn’t easy. At all. Not just because in the last few years he’d reduced his diet to mostly pre-cooked stuff, but especially for the smells that filled the kitchen and the long string of memories attached to them - Karen and his mom, guilt and comfort, sweetness and fear.

But Bobby went through all of it, the fishing out of the egg shells, the spilling of the flour, the hour long wait for the dough to set and the million questions Dean seemed to have – because the boy enjoyed himself.

Bobby was pretty sure of it, from the way he groaned in disgust as he dipped his hands in the mixture with raw eggs, in his cheeky face when he lied about stealing the blueberries they were using, in his clear laugh when Bobby slipped and almost crashed on the dirty floor; all of that made it worth it.

When the oven door was closed and the timer was set, he even sat cross-legged on the tiles to watch it as it baked.

Bobby moved around him to clean the mess they’d made and then went to wash himself up. When he looked himself in the bathroom mirror he saw flour all over his beard and bits of dough on his flannel. He found himself smiling a little.

He might not be able to bring the boys the spirit of Christmas or whatever crap they sold these days, but he would’ve been be satisfied if he managed to make them happier for half a day.

Dean started pounding on the door right in that moment. “Bobby!” he was shouting, “The timer! Hurry up! We need to get it out!”

Bobby’s reflection rolled his eyes and sighed. “Coming!” he shouted back and heard Dean running away again.

When he entered the kitchen half a minute later, Sam had joined Dean in front of the oven. He was still in his pyjamas and looked up at him with sleepy eyes. “Dean’s screams woke me up,” he said.

“Yeah, alright. I’m here, let me through and step back. I don’t want you to get burned.”

As carefully as possible, he took the pie out under the scrutinizing gaze of the brothers. As he sat it on the table he noticed the uneven colour of the crust and the filling that had spilled all over the sides and through the cracks. He made a face. “Well - doesn’t look half bad as far as first attempts go -" he tried to say but his words were drowned by the boys shouting “Whoa!”

"It smells so good," said Dean, wearing a proud smile.

"It’s perfect," said Sam with the solemnity of a renown critic. "Can we try it now?"

"Let’s give it a moment to cool down. You go get dressed. Dean, go wash your hands."

They both sprinted in different directions. Sam immediately ran up the stairs banging a hand on the banister in excitement. Dean bolted in the direction of the downstairs bathroom.

“Be careful!” he thundered.

They both shouted back at once: “Yes, Uncle Bobby!”

A rush of affection washed over him. He shook his head looking down at their pie.

“Merry Christmas kids.” 

 joining @bend-me-shape-me in this!

[coepiteamare]

you feel like a holiday

pairing: namjoon x female!reader genre: mostly fluff, a tinge of angst, a lot of mishaps, mall workers  warnings: language, mentions of mild burns, not using oven mitts, lapslock, a lot of mentions of falling because we’re clumsy word count: 5.8k

summary: floral fantasy is instagram famous, not only for their delectable desserts and drinks, but also the absurdly good looking staff members who’d make celebrities crumble with a mere flicker of a smile. you can’t help but fall for the one temp worker who’s as clumsy as he is good looking. 

notes: merry belated holidays ellen @joontella​! it’s peppermint, finally delivering your present to you because i am an excellent procrastinator. this was inspired by my friend commenting on how the majority of holiday movie leads seem to be mall elves, so i present to you...a mall elf! in all seriousness, i hope you like it! i also wanted to add your answers to the character (about your favourite and least favourite part of the holidays) so i put those in here. 💕

the moment the clock strikes midnight on december 1st, the mall changes: it shifts from plain decorations and advertisements into a winter wonderland, with fake snow and garlands and tinsel wrapping every square inch of the mall. twinkling snowflakes hang from the ceiling, a cascade of light fragments spinning over the white, mall floor, and the railing are covered in boughs of holly and streams of glitter. it’s absolutely magical. or so every customer thinks. 

in reality, all the mall workers are contractually obligated to work after the mall closing hours, to file in through the glass doors and haul decoration after decoration out of the mall storage room, put in elbow grease to transform the mall into something vaguely resembling the north pole and distinctly looking like a christmas catalogue display, only with more glitter and more snowflakes and too much tinsel. 

you absolutely despise it. 

to be fair, working a graveyard shift to help “build the holiday magic and festive cheer” was written in the job description when you signed on for the job, in fine tiny print you skipped over as you signed your name on the bottom of the paper, forgotten and ignored in the thrill of having a job that pays more than minimum wage. of course there was a catch; there was always a catch. 

you kick a plastic reindeer, watch it clatter on to a pile of fake snow from your annoyance. jungkook, the head mall—santa’s elf, you correct yourself—snaps his head in your direction, before running over and propping up the reindeer. “oh no! are you okay, vixen?” he pats the reindeer gently, brushing off glittery cotton fluff from its body before frowning at you. “please be careful with the props! all of these are essential to the holiday magic we provide to the children and mall patrons! what would they think if they came into the mall and we only had 8 reindeers instead of all 9?” 

you blink twice, trying to bat away the sleep that’s weighing down your eyelashes and mingling with the glitter from all the ornaments. “that we have 8 reindeers.”

there’s another frown on his face, eyebrows pinching together as he opens his mouth when there’s a loud crash on your right. 

there’s a tall, broad man on the floor, tangled in tinsel and lights, next to a ladder, as another tall, broad man and a short, soft looking blonde come rushing out of the floral fantasy cafe doors. the blonde starts cackling immediately—peals of laughter slipping out of his lips as he props himself against the ladder, doubling over at the unfortunate christmas decoration accident—while the tall broad one (the one not tangled up on the floor), sighs and crouches down to try and untangle the other one. 

“i swear, i don’t even know how this happened,” you overhear tinsel boy explaining, “i was up on the ladder trying to unwrap the lights and i guess i pulled too hard? i fell over.” 

blondie cackles even louder as both of the boys give him a look: tinsel boy looks confused, a little apologetic like he’s done this before, while the other tall, broad one sends him an exasperated look. “yoongi, come help me, so we can all leave early.”

ah, to leave early. you’d like that. 

jungkook lets out a tsk and hands you a box of snowflakes to hang from the roof of santa’s workshop, deeming you high risk to the reindeers, and moves on to the next poor, tired santa’s elf who is—heaven forbid—letting the garland hang an extra inch longer than protocol. 

you shift your gaze back to your right and meet eyes with tinsel boy who’s looking right at you. a flicker of heat rushes up to your cheek, as he looks away, back to the tall broad one who’s trying to untangle him. 

“namjoon,” the broad one sighs in relief when his hands finally find the right loop, “maybe you should try the stickers.” 

“absolutely not,” blondie glares, points to the glass window of the cafe, and even from where you are, 2 stores down and 2 across, you can see the abysmal state of the stickers, air bubbles and stuck together where it’s not haphazardly slapped on to glass. “we are two stickers down and tae is going to have my head when he finds out.” his tone softens, eyes as gentle as his smile, when he sees that namjoon has deflated a little, spirit a little squashed like the tinsel around him. “maybe you can decorate the counter namjoon. i think you’d be good at that.”

namjoon brightens up, dimpled smile illuminated by the string lights dancing across his face, and hands yoongi the lights. he gives a mock salute. “yes, sir.”

you bite down your laughter as he skips into the store, nearly tripping over his shoes. at least you’re not alone in your lack of holiday decorating luck, you think as you reach your hand into the box of snowflakes and cough, a storm of dust and glitter puffing up into the air. 

god, you hate your job already. 

in all fairness, after a 5 hour shift and glitter congested lungs, the mall looks lovely, a christmas card come to life with enough lights to rival a hallmark christmas movie or those drive through holiday light tunnels. if you were a customer, you’d stand gaping at the front entrance too, breath caught in your throat at the festivities. but instead, you’re rubbing bleary eyes from the lack of sleep, back at the steps of the mall less than 6 hours after the nightmare of the graveyard shift. lethargy clings to the edges of your thoughts, smudging cohesion into a whirlpool of fatigue, so you collect what little of yourself you can and trudge your way to floral fantasy. 

floral fantasy is instagram famous, not only for their delectable desserts and drinks, but also the absurdly good looking staff members who’d make celebrities crumble with a mere flicker of a smile. there’s a whisper where you live, small talks through the grapevines, about how the requirement to work there is to look like someone who’d make models cry. rumour has it every single worker has been recruited by a talent agency, only to all be turned down for reasons unknown. you believed it when you first stepped foot into the cafe, mouth agape and words lost at the sight of the pretty workers at the register, but the speculations hit you twice as hard right now, when you’re clutching on to the last bit of your sanity. 

tinsel boy is in front of you. you knew he was pretty yesterday, wrapped in twinkle and catching the light, but he’s even prettier up close, skin shimmering in soft pastels, and you wonder for a moment if he’s actually this pretty or if it’s just an optical illusion, a trick of your mind bending the light to create a pretty ringlet around his head. you almost run your mouth, almost let your mouth run without its filter. almost. 

instead, there’s a crash, an angry hiss of steam, and the distinct sound of someone yelping in pain that cuts through the fog of your wonder. blondie rushes out from the back (yoongi, you think his name was), door swinging behind him. “goddamnit namjoon, i leave you alone for thirty seconds! thirty seconds!” 

namjoon shrugs sheepishly. there’s a grimace on his face as he nurses a palm, red and angry. yoongi rushes over with a wet towel and wraps it around namjoon’s palm, another hiss seeping from namjoon’s lips. “i got-fuck-distracted by something,” he looks at you, cheeks tinged pink, and tries to put on a smile, though it resembles more of a grimace. “welcome to floral fantasy.”

yoongi follows his gaze to you too, blinks twice before a smile spreads on his mouth too. “we’re usually a lot more composed than this.”  

“i’ll take your word for it.” you laugh, remembering last night. “the place looks nice. it looks like you’ve done a wonderful job.”

the cafe, normally in theme to its name as an everblooming wonder, is decked with evergreen wreaths and red ribbons, a brilliant fantasy of lights. the wall filled with paper flowers is replaced with white and silver paper snowflakes, just as photo ready as the people inside. 

“thank you,” yoongi smirks, looking over at namjoon before pushing him towards the register. “we tried.”

“i’m sure you must be tired from last night,” you smile at namjoon. 

“you must be too. i know the mall elves had to stay even longer than we did.” he smiles, dimples blooming. “what can i get you?” 

you look at the menu over his head, the words blurring together the longer you look at them, mind too sleep deprived to focus. “i haven’t been here often, so i’m not sure what’s good. what would you recommend?”

he opens his mouth, hesitating for a moment, before letting out a low chuckle, hand rubbing the back of his neck. your eyes follow the movement. “i’m actually new here. my friends own the cafe and i’m just here to help for the holiday rush.” he side eyes yoongi who’s running the coffee machine with precision and ease, grace in each movement as he fixes namjoon’s mistakes. “i feel like more of a nuisance than of help though.” 

“i understand that feeling,” you motion towards your attire, a bright splash of green, red, and white that’s as cheerful as you are tired. “i most definitely am not as perky as my job requires.” 

he laughs at your statement, a genuine bubbling laughter that tickles one out of you. there’s a sparkle in his eyes—a trick of the light, you tell yourself—as types something on to the screen. “i have just the thing for you.”

you start to fish around your bag, trying to find your card in the mess of old receipts and chewing gum, when he speaks again. “it’s on the house. my treat.” 

you furrow your brows, lips quirked. “are you allowed to do that?”

“i get free coffee everyday,” he shrugs, “and i do enough damage without caffeine in my system. consider it a gift from a fellow new mall worker, a comrades in agony.” 

you can’t help the worry that spreads across your face. “will you be making it as well?”

“god no.” “absolutely not.” namjoon and yoongi speak at once, twin looks of pain on their faces. 

namjoon holds up his palm as the printer makes a whirring noise. “i think it’s safer for all of us that yoongi makes your drink.” 

the coffee is good, coats your tongue in mint and just the right amount of bitterness. the caffeine sinks into your bloodstream, wipes the film of sleep from your eyes, and gets you through seven hours at the mall. by the end of it, your cheeks hurt from smiling too hard, voice a little hoarse from the high pitch elf voice, but there’s a warmth from the coffee that lingers, settles into your bones and stays despite the frosty air that blasts a little too hard through the itchy material of your elf dress. 

you find yourself back at the doors of floral fantasy the next day, still in your bell hat and jingling shoes, less tired but sleepy nonetheless. it’s a little before the mall opens, but the doors are unlocked when you push, a little bell chime ringing through the empty store. the smell of baked goods fills the air, a cozy warmth juxtaposing the white winter wonderland theme, and you take in a deep breath, let it fill your lungs. 

“wow.” you whip around to see namjoon holding a tray of scones and muffins. “you look like you fit right into the store.”

you snort as you twirl, the pom poms twirling as your dress swirls with your turn. “i’m a christmas card come to life, the splitting image of cheer and festivities. though i can’t really say i’m quite into the look.”

he opens his mouth to say something, but there’s a ringing that permeates and breaks the moment. “oh shit,” he drops the tray down on the counter, “seokjin told me to watch the macarons. i’ll be right back” he races off, the back door swinging to the tune of his panic. 

you giggle and look at the menu properly this time, at the pretty penmanship curling across the black chalkboards. there’s candy canes and hollies drawn on the borders and tiny wreaths pinned to every corner, ribbon on the bottom, and you try to match the baked goods to the menu names when there’s a muted yelp and crash coming from behind the doors. 

“i swear to god, kim namjoon! the oven mitts are not decoration!” you hear, and you grimace, mind already picturing the damage his clumsiness has caused.  

namjoon and seokjin, you assume, come out of the backroom a few moments later, another wet towel on namjoon, on both hands instead of one this time. 

“oh,” seokjin says. “hello.” 

“hi,” you wave awkwardly. “i’m guessing this is bad timing?”

“no, it’s not,” he pulls out a medical kit and starts applying burn cream on namjoon’s hands, sending daggers every time namjoon inhales sharply in pain. “yoongi should be here in a couple of minutes if you want coffee.”

“did you like the coffee yesterday?” namjoon asks, hope sparkling in his eyes. 

“i did!” you beam back. “it was good, so i came back to see if you had any recs.” you look at the tray behind the two. “and to try a baked goods. a fellow elf told me they’re quite spectacular.”

seokjin brightens at that, perks up and puffs his chest as he finishes the final touches on the bandages on namjoon’s hands. “you heard correctly! just wait a moment!” he rushes off to the back, and it’s just the two of you again.

“you seem to be catching me at my worst, but i swear, i’m more put together than this,” namjoon chuckles, lifting his palms “how was your first shift?” 

you laugh, caressing your elbows to your body. “it was okay. a lot of happy kids, which was nice, but there were also a lot of crying ones. by the end, i was just ready to go home. i did, however, like the coffee from yesterday and figured i would come back to see if you had another recommendation, from a fellow second day-er to another. it was the one thing that got me through the shift.” 

he beams again, and it ignites a warmth in you, much like the coffee from yesterday, that spreads gently across your body, on your cheeks, on your mouth. his smile is pretty, like a warm breeze on a spring day, like cherry blossoms fluttering gently in the wind. the coffee is good, but you think the reason for the lines outside the cafe, the loyal customers, is partly due to the way the smiles here feel like love letters. 

“i have something in mind for you today,” he smiles at you as yoongi walks in, nodding at you in greeting. “just wait a moment.”

you walk out of the cafe, a coffee in one hand, box of baked goods in another, and a heart that feels a little like a snow globe, glitter and snow gently falling down after being shaken by a cute pair of dimples.

it becomes a routine of sorts: almost every shift begins with a visit to floral fantasy, even on the days namjoon isn’t working, and you build up a small friendship with everyone who works there, though it’s mostly seokjin and yoongi and namjoon you see. there always seems to be some mishap with namjoon when you walk into the store—it’s mostly limited to small things like jammed display doors, smooshed pastries as he reaches for another, and misshapen ice cream swirls—although seokjin and yoongi tell you he’s not as clumsy as he presents himself when you’re around.

“he’s actually quite brilliant,” seokjin tells you as he packs in an extra macaron in your gift box, smiling as you light up in glee. you really shouldn’t be spending your paycheck on pastries, but seokjin’s culinary training at le cordon bleu makes them a little too good, a little too addictive, and has you asking for one (or two) on the days when your shifts are a little too long to bear without coffee and sweets. “he’s double majoring in literature and philosophy, minoring in greek and latin to gain deeper understanding of the classical philosophers, and takes french in his free time. he wears himself a little too thin, if you ask me, but he likes what he does. he’s a sweetheart, even when he’s clinging to the last thread of his sanity, muttering on and on about paradoxes and something about beds.” 

“he just needs to get a better understanding of his strength,” yoongi tells you when you come in after your shift one day, over the hiss of the steamer as he makes you a cafe au lait. you don’t have the heart to tell him that you prefer your coffee sweet after remembering how his eyes lit up as he told you about his barista training, raved about coffee done correctly rather than frappes and awful starbucks beans. the resentment on his tongue made you promise yourself to never step foot in a starbucks, lest you find yourself the subject of his bitterness. “sometimes he gets a little too excited and forgets about things, like how fragile objects can be or safety concerns” he and seokjin exchange a knowing glance before he smiles down at the coffee, blank canvas coming to life as he pours in the steamed milk. in the matter of seconds, there’s a cute bear hanging on to the edge of the cup, and you gape in awe at his skills. “he means well though.” 

namjoon presents himself a little differently than his friends do when he catches you on your lunch break, keeping you company as you eat your sandwich in the cafeteria. “i don’t really know how these things keep happening, but they do. i’m a magnet for trouble like bella swan.”

you cackle out loud and, in the process, almost spit out your coffee, courtesy of namjoon. “i’m sure it’s not that bad.” 

“well, i don’t have a creepy, emotionally unhinged vampire that lusts after me, so yes, my situation is a bit better.”

he looks like a kicked puppy, eyes all sad and tugging at heartstrings. you find yourself reaching a hand out, patting his arm. “there, there. i’m sure santa has you on the nice list despite it all. for not interacting with a god-forsaken, toxic vampire.” 

“good. i was awfully worried i was on the naughty list.” he tries to keep a straight face, hold his laughter in, but it seeps and bubbles out and his eyes crinkle into crescents. “do you not like the holidays?” you tilt your head at his question, a silent ask to elaborate. “you seem to not be in the holiday spirit when i ask you about it. unless, i’m reading incorrectly and it’s just your job you despise, which i totally understand. i love kids, but they can be hard to deal with.” 

you chew on your sandwich for a little longer than you have to, feel it go down your esophagus while the sorrow sticks in your throat. “i like christmas. it’s just a bit lonely on my own?” you put your sandwich down gingerly on to your tupperware. “i think the best part of christmas—the holidays in general, really—is spending time with family and loved ones, but i don’t get to see them very often. not since i moved for college and everyone is busy with their own lives. i love christmas dinner and celebrating together, watching the clock strike midnight on new year’s. i still send gifts to them, but it’s not the same as watching them open it, watching eyes light up and twinkle in delight as they see the stockings and rip the wrapping paper.” you stick a grin on your face, as cheerful as the one you put on for your job, but your laughter sounds weak, even to your ears, and you shift your gaze on to the sandwich in your tupperware, trying to hide your tears. there’s a comforting hand on top of yours, gently squeezing like he’s trying to pass his strength on to you. “i mean, it’s fine. post-holiday depression can’t really hit if you don’t feel the holiday cheer to begin with.”

he doesn’t say anything as you blink furiously, trying to clear out the fuzziness in your vision: he rubs his thumb against the back of your hand, a gentle reminder that he’s there and listening to what you’ve holed up and deemed too stupid to tell other people. 

“maybe this holiday season will be different,” he offers. 

there’s a flicker of hope that burns in your chest. “yeah, maybe it will be.” 

it’s a couple of days later when you step back into the cafe, having been too tired to come by after your shifts, and you’re nursing the desire to knock down every single reindeer and the stupid gingerbread house just to spite the kids. (and maybe see the look on jeon jungkook’s face, savour it slowly. god, his love for christmas cheer and order drives you mad, though you’re sure you do the same for him, every time you slip out of character when there’s a particularly nasty child in line.) you must look as exhausted as you feel because when namjoon turns around at the sound of the bell twinkling, thirty minutes before the cafe closes, he drops the tray and you watch as the pink coffee cups and pretty plates fall to the floor, shatter into pieces. 

“fuck,” namjoon looks at the floor in dismay, crouching down to collect the pieces. 

“be care-“ you start, but his voice cuts through before you can finish. 

“ow, fuck.” he staring at the rose blooming on his thumb, cut quickly filling with red. 

you grab a napkin from the counter and hand it to him, gently pulling him up and aside, out of harms way. “i don’t know if your hands will be okay by the time your stint here ends.”

he snorts at that, heading behind the counter and reaching for the medical kit again. “i’m quite resilient.”

“is it weird that i believe you and don’t at the same time?” you smile at his pout, wincing when it causes your cheeks to twinge in pain. “are you manning the store alone today?”

“i can be responsible! is that so hard to believe?” he laughs and motions to the store. “this is seokjin and yoongi’s baby. seokjin has always wanted to do something with food and yoongi’s always loved coffee, so this is their brainchild. i’m guessing they trust me enough to not burn the place down, or at least try not to.” 

he fumbles as puts a bandage on the cut and you can’t help but smile as you remember the stickers he tried to put on the cafe door. you take the broom from him when he makes his way over. “here, let me help.” he tries to protest but you move the broom out of his reach. “consider it my way of saying thank you for the great coffee recommendations.”  

namjoon’s dimples are back, shining in full force, and you start sweeping, telling yourself you’re focusing on the pieces of china and not averting the warmth of his smile because it does not feel like a sugar rush, like the warmth of the holidays you haven’t felt in a while. you feel something creep up in your throat—loneliness, sorrow, exhaustion—so you force it down and stare at the tiny pieces on the floor, watch the little fragments twinkle as you push them around with your broom. 

“are you okay?” there’s a hand on your arm and pair of warm brown eyes looking at you, concern brimming in the light. you let yourself get lost in them for a moment, let it wash over you before you respond.

“yeah,” you smile, “just tired.” 

he gently takes the broom and dustpan from your hands, and gives you his hand instead, leading you to the behind the counter and to the backroom. “i have just the thing for you.”

“am i allowed to be back here?” you quirk your head in amusement, letting him lead. “better yet, what are we doing?”

it’s strange—to the say the least—to be in a place you’re so accustomed to but have it looks so different than what you’re used to: steel and silver replacing marble and white, ovens and storage racks in place of glass displays case and chalkboards. but there’s still the same magic: the same kind of warmth and care you’re greeted with at the entrance lives in the backroom, with the ovens and fires, with the stand mixers and ingredients, with namjoon flitting around the stove. there’s a tick-tick-tick as the stove flares to life, a clang as it meets pan. 

“yoongi taught me how to make hot chocolate, back in high school, because he was so fed up with how much i loved it, how much i would ask for it.” you can feel the smile on his face, even as his back is to you as you lean against the counter. “it’s one of the few things i know how to make from scratch, albeit a little labour intensive. once you try it, there’s no going back to instant packets.” 

namjoon motions you over, handing you the whisk, and the two of you settle in to a comfortable silence as he scrapes in vanilla, sifts in some spices, adds in heavy cream and milk. it smells heavenly, lingers on the edges of his white shirt. the two of you are so close, you’re scared he can hear the vivace of your heartbeat over the whisking, so you whisk a little faster, let the cream splash on the edges until he gently takes the whisk from you. “wow, maybe you should work here. we could have you as back up if our stand mixers ever break down.” 

he pours the mixture into two orange mugs, topping it with something white and fluffy before handing one to you. “hot chocolate a la namjoon.” 

you close your eyes and let the mixture settle on your tongue, sweet and warm. it settles in your bones, distilling and coating the exhaustion and loneliness until all that’s left is the warmth of spending the moment with a loved one. the effort and time comes through. “colour me impressed.”

the smile on his face is as warm as the drink in your hands. 

the two of you bask in the silence, in the warmth, in the comfort of each other’s presence, as you sip the rest of your hot chocolates. 

there’s an unspoken rule: the closer it gets to your last day of work, the slower time moves, like it’s waiting to prolong your misery. the kids aren’t awful—they get nicer as it inches closer to christmas, too well aware their gifts depend on their behavior—but no matter how many kids you entertain, how many photos you snap, how many smiles you pinch out, nothing makes your shift go by today. you’re so close to throwing down your elf hat and walking out the door, freedom so close yet so far. 

it’s christmas eve and the mall is busier than usual, packed with folxs trying to get their last minute christmas shopping done. you can’t say the same for the santa’s workshop line: there’s a lull like no other, and while you would be grateful, jeon jungkook has been watching over everyone like a hawk, squawking at every elf to “keep up the magic!” just until 10 minutes ago when he left for lunch. you just want to go back to your apartment and settle under your covers and let yourself enjoy the measly number on your paycheck. 

“you look like you’re having the time of your life.” 

a voice comes up from behind you and you startle, relief only settling in when you see who it is. 

namjoon is holding a tray of cupcakes that looks like christmas trees, dusted in powdered sugar and topped with a fondant star, and you “ooh” over them as he laughs. “seokjin was experimenting with flavours and i figured i would bring some over to the north pole.”

you frown in mock anger as you pluck a cupcake off his tray. “it’s santa’s workshop, not the north pole. i don’t even want to think about how much more fake snow we would have to bring to call this the north pole.” you take a bite into the cupcake, moaning as the sugar hits your tongue. “these are so good.”

namjoon blinks at you, looks down at your lips and laughs with pink tinged cheeks. “you have frosting on your lips.”

“oh,” you lick your lips, “is it gone?”

 he brushes his thumb against the corner of your mouth, fingertip lingering a second too long as he drags it down. “all better.” 

there’s a long, awkward silence between the two of you, seconds dragging by as you fumble to string a cohesive sentence together. 

“do you-“

“it’s my-“

“you can go first,” namjoon offers. 

“it’s my last shift today, so i won’t be able to visit as often anymore.” you try to keep the tremble out of your voice, try to dampen the disappointment as you kick at the floor. “so i wanted to say thank you. for everything.”

“oh.” he doesn’t say anything else and anxiety pools in between every beat of the song that’s blasting through the mall speakers. you try to find something to fill in the conversation, anything but what you want to ask him, when you hear your coworker’s voice. 

“jeon’s making his way down!” 

“i have to go. thank you for the cupcake!” you wave the treat in your hand and start to get back into position.

“wait! y/n!” 

as soon as you turn around, there’s a giant weight on top of you, and both you and namjoon come tumbling down, back knocking against the floor. namjoon’s foot, caught on the wire, pulls out the string lights from the socket and brings a snowman to the floor. the poor snowman, in turn, knocks over the reindeers one by one, like a set of dominos, each one falling to the floor with a graceful “thump.”

you let out a groan, crushed by namjoon’s large frame. there’s something wet smudged against your cheek, and the tray that once was in his hands is now uncomfortably sandwiched between your stomachs, digging into your ribcage. 

“fuck, i’m so sorry,” namjoon scrambles to get off of you. “this keeps happening around you. are you okay?”

when you prop up your weight on your hands, you see that your elf costume is smeared with dark green frosting, the white trim matted together with pieces of the chocolate cupcake. you can’t help but laugh: it seems awfully fitting that namjoon’s fall, which marked your first shift, would laso be the highlight of your last one. 

“i’m alright. you?”

he nods, motioning towards your elf costume. “i don’t think your costume is though.”

“i kind of like it better this way,” you laugh as you start to pick up the reindeers, “it feels much more festive.” 

“i feel bad.”

he sends you an apologetic look, puppy eyes and pouty lips, and something in you says fuck it. “you were right about the hot chocolate. i tried to drink instant mix and it didn’t taste the same. you could make it up to me with another cup?”

something flashes in his eyes as he smiles. “i’ll do you one better. what are you doing tomorrow?”

you furrow your brows, trying to figure out what he’s asking. “nothing?”

“i’m off too, if you wanted to go on a date? most of the city is going to be closed, so we could watch a movie, have dinner at my place? and i could make you hot chocolate?” he bites his lip at your silence, at the way your eyes go wide. “or not. i’m sorry; i just thou-” 

you press your lips against his and put your hands on his shoulder when he kisses you back. it’s a short kiss, sweet and gentle like he is, and it’s over all too soon (you are in public after all), but it leaves a trail of butterflies in your stomach and a dazed look in his eye. 

“a date sounds good.” you tell him as he stands up, tray in hand. 

“tomorrow then.”

you nod, the smile on your face as sweet as the frosting on your outfit, as he runs back towards floral fantasy. 

“looks like someone has holiday plans after all,” your coworker nudges you.

the smile on your face refuses to dissipate, even as your cheeks feel the tender ache. “i guess so.” 

“you know, the first time i saw you, you were wrapped in tinsel because you fell off the ladder trying to decorate the outside of floral fantasy.” you tell him on his couch, over hot chocolate. 

he chokes and sputters. “i was distracted.”

the statement sounds vaguely familiar, mind hazy from time. “by what?”

he looks at his mug of hot chocolate intently, like the surface is reflecting his answer to him. “You.”

It’s your turn to choke on your drink. “I’m sorry?”

his ears and cheeks are dusted with pink, a sunset on his face. “You were so pretty that i forgot i was on a ladder, and i fell.” 

it takes all of your willpower to iron out the smile that threatens to slip through, but one look at his face--at his pretty, pouting face--and you burst out laughing, laughing even harder when he joins in.

“I’m clumsy when i get nervous,” he continues, when both your laughters simmer into giggles, “and everytime you came into the cafe, i was so nervous that i made silly mistakes like burning my hands and forgetting oven mitts. The one time you came in and i dropped the tray? The light was hitting you at the right angle and—god—it made you look like an angel.” 

you hide your grin behind your mug, take a sip before you let him know. “the coffee was good, but i mostly came in to see you.” 

his eyes light up at that, brighter than the christmas tree haphazardly wrapped behind him, and you kiss him, mouths moulding together. he tastes like goodness and hot chocolate and the warmth of the holiday season, like the thrill of opening a present that’s been under the tree for so long. 

maybe he was right. maybe this holiday season will be different. 

[sociallyawkward--fics]

Sugar Sweet Smiles

So, this was more of writing warm-up the past couple of weeks after I hadn't written in over a month, so I'll be honest, it's not really up to my standards lol. I also didn't edit it because I knew I would just never post it, if I did. I also have only just started writing for BNHA so I'm still feeling out the characters. It's likely that this could be pretty OOC, but that's up to y'all to decide lol. Also, this fic feels a lot more bitter now that my brother-in-law ruined Christmas by bringing home COVID, but I hope you all get some joy out of it!

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Ships: EraserMic

Summary: It's Christmastime, and Shouta and Hizashi have a very important tradition to introduce to Eri and Hitoshi.

Word Count: 2526 words

[ao3 link]

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Shouta sighed as Hizashi got distracted by yet another shiny decoration in the store. They were supposed to be shopping for ingredients, and their house was already decorated to a point that was nearly sickening. Did they really need a fourth wreath? Where would it even go?

Next to him, Hitoshi looked on in amusement, periodically glancing down to type something on his phone. He was probably texting Midioriya or Kaminara, based on what Shouta had seen of the budding friendships before UA had let out for Christmas break. 

Eri, meanwhile, sat in the children’s seat in the cart and seemed mesmerized with the entirety of the grocery store in general. They hadn’t had many chances to take her out since she came into his and Hizashi’s care, and she was still fascinated every time she experienced the world.

“Hizashi,” Shouta said sternly.

Hizashi froze where he’d been trying to place some gaudy outdoor ornaments into their cart. He gave Shouta a nervous grin.

“Yes, dear?”

“Baking supplies, Hizashi. Not decorations. We don’t have any more room.”

Hizashi pouted. “We have room.”

Shouta raised an eyebrow and Hizashi's pout intensified. He did, however, place the ornaments back onto the shelf as Hitoshi snorted in quiet laughter. Shouta started the cart moving before Hizashi could get distracted again.

“Compromise,” Hizashi said as Shouta directed them to the correct aisle. “You let me get the cats Christmas sweaters, and I’ll stop buying decorations. Well, this year, at least.”

Shouta snorted. “I think Tigress, Kermit, and Blanket would sooner kill you than allow you to put sweaters on them.”

Hizashi stuck his tongue out at Shouta, making Eri giggle and Hitoshi roll his eyes with a grin. Shouta decided not to react and simply point to the flour on the shelf behind Hizashi, a silent request to get what they actually came to the store for.

The rest of the shopping trip went similarly, with Hizashi acting more like a child than either of their actual children and Shouta denying the begrudging fondness that filled him at Hizashi’s actions.

They did wind up getting Christmas sweaters for the cats.

The recipe they were using was one they’d gotten from Hizashi’s mothers. It was an old Yamada family recipe, but they constantly joked that a grandparent had probably gotten it out of a dime-a-dozen cookbook ages ago and passed the recipe off as their own. Either way, Shouta had been obsessed with the things since he and Hizashi were 15 and he tried them for the first time, and he refused to let the butter cookie tradition die even after Hizashi moved out of his mothers’ house.

Hizashi said it was cute and teased him about being nostalgic. Really, Shouta would just kill a man to have more of those cookies.

And now they had more people to bring into the tradition.

Hizashi washed his hands as Shouta lined up their ingredients and supplies. Hitoshi leaned up against the opposite counter and watched him with lazy eyes. Eri slowly approached the counter Shouta was setting up on and grabbed the edge, pulling herself up onto her tiptoes to see the surface.

“I’ve never made cookies before,” she said quietly.

“Well,” Hizashi said, loud enough that Hitoshi jumped, “it’s a good thing we’re here to teach you how!”

A smile tugged at Shouta’s lips as Hizashi carefully lifted Eri up to sit on the counter, out of the way of the baking supplies Shouta had set up. Instead of giving Hizashi the satisfaction, Shouta turned toward the sink.

“She still has to wash her hands,” he said. “And now you have to rewash yours.”

Hizashi groaned dramatically. “We’re a family, we all share the same germs! It’s not that big of a deal!”

Shouta, carefully telegraphing his movements, lifted Eri off the counter and kicked the nearby step stool into place in front of the sink. He turned on the sink and set Eri down, leaving her to wash her hands herself.

“Well, I agree with Aiz--Shouta,” Hitoshi said, finally walking forward to stand next to Eri and wash his hands. “I don’t want your weird loud germs in my cookies.”

This time, Shouta allowed the grin to pass over his face, even as Hizashi gasped in a way that was far too dramatic to be real. Hizashi thrust his finger in their direction.

“Watch it,” he said. “I’ll start a flour war.”

“You will not,” Shouta said, shooting him a glare. “Wash your hands.”

And then, in a move that surprised even Shouta himself, he swiped his hand through the sink’s stream and splashed it at Hizashi. Hitoshi burst out laughing and stumbled away, probably to get himself out of the crossfire. Eri just glanced up at him, giving a little confused giggle.

“Are you looking to start a war, Aizawa Shouta?” Hizashi asked, voice low and dangerous.

“Are you looking to lose, Yamada Hizashi?”

Hizashi narrowed his eyes. Shouta saw him tense and leapt back, carefully not to jump so far that he would hit the counter across the room. Hizashi lunged after him, hands already covered in flour (and when had that happened?), and Shouta let out a startled laugh as he dodged. Hitoshi cackled and out of the corner of his eye Shouta saw him pull Eri to the edge of the room and out of the crossfire.

That moment of distraction cost him, and Hizashi’s hands grabbed his cheeks, rubbing the flour into his skin. Shouta gasped and darted away, making a break for the sink and pulling out the hose from the faucet, spraying it in Hizashi’s direction. Hizashi screeched, barely keeping his quirk in check.

“And to think you two are considered responsible adults and students are afraid of you,” Hitoshi quipped.

At that, Shouta straightened back up and cleared his through, turning the sink off. Hizashi laughed, whether it was at the situation or the embarrassed look on Shouta’s face was unknown, and walked over to whisk Eri back into his arms.

“Right, now that we’re all clean,” Shouta started, and Hitoshi snorted, the sound cutting him off.

“But Aizawa-san, you’re not clean,” Eri said as Hizashi put her back on the counter. “Your face is all dirty.”

Hizashi and Hitoshi laughed, and Shouta gently waved her off. 

“Baking can get a little messy, anyway, so it’s okay if I’m dirty with flour. We just don’t want to be dirty with germs and grime.”

“Germs and grime,” Eri repeated quietly, examining her hands.

Hizashi clapped his hands together. “And now for the main event!”

“Where’s the recipe?” Hitoshi asked.

Hizashi laid a hand over his heart. “Right in here, little listener!”

Eri squinted and Hitoshi raised an eyebrow. Shouta flicked Hizashi in the forehead.

“I have it memorized. ‘Zashi couldn’t remember it to save his life, and he always loses it when we write it down.”

“Yeah, that adds up,” Hitoshi said.

Hizashi pouted, so Shouta placated him with a kiss on the cheek. Hitoshi made a gagging noise.

“Start with the wet ingredients,” Shouta said, pushing Hizashi and Hitoshi toward the mixer. “Cream the butter and sugar first, before adding the egg, vanilla, or milk. Please don’t make that mistake again. Eri and I will work on the rest of the dry ingredients.”

Shouta grabbed a bowl and the dry ingredients and moved toward where Eri was seated.

“Why do you mix the ingredients separately?” Eri asked, leaning over the bowl as she watched Shouta measure out cups of flour.

Shouta paused. “I’m not really sure. I suppose to make sure they’re mixed evenly, but I’ve never really thought about it.”

Eri nodded seriously and Shouta couldn’t help but smile at the concentrated look on her face. He measured out the salt and baking powder and handed her one of the utensils. She grinned as they poured them together.

“Do you want to mix it?” Shouta asked.

Eri bit her lip.

“I can show you how, first, if you want.”

She nodded and Shouta grabbed a fork, not willing to dirty a whisk when they were such hell to clean afterwards. He carefully whisked the dry ingredients around with the fork, making sure not to spill any over the edges of the bowl. After a few stirs, he handed the fork over to Eri.

“I’ll hold the bowl still,” he said. “You just stir, and try not to spill any if you can. It’s okay if you do, though.”

Eri nodded, that look of concentration crossing her face again. She stuck the fork into the bowl and carefully moved it around, mimicking what Shouta had shown her to the best of her abilities. Shouta smiled.

“Good,” he said. “Just like that, but try to get the fork a little deeper. You’re only mixing the top, you want to try and get it all--good, just like that.”

Eri brightened at his praise and direction, her stirring getting more confident. Shouta looked up and met eyes with Hizashi over her head, the two of them sharing a smile before Hitoshi grabbed Hizashi’s attention again.

“We’re ready for the dry ingredients if you are,” Hizashi called a few moments later.

Shouta looked down at Eri. “What do you think, do you think it’s mixed up enough?”

Eri hummed and eyed the bowl with a critical eye. She gave the mixture a few more strong stirs before giving Shouta a self-assured nod. He nodded back and lifted the bowl in one hand and Eri in the other, walking over toward the mixer. He handed the bowl to Hitoshi.

“I figure you’re far less likely to drop this than Hizashi.”

Hizashi made an affronted noise and Shouta chuckled. Eri hid a smile in his shoulder as she watched Hitoshi pour a portion of the dry mixture into the mixing bowl. Then Shouta’s smile faltered when Hizashi got a devious look in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare,” Shouta said, buying Hitoshi enough time to place the bowl with the rest of the dry mixture back on the counter.

Hitoshi frowned, looking back and forth between them. “Don’t what?”

Shouta narrowed his eyes. “He was going to prove that you were clumsy enough to drop it, too. By making you drop it.”

Hizashi put his hand against his heart. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing! On a completely unrelated note, Hitoshi do you happen to be ticklish?”

Hitoshi edged away from Hizashi, and Hizashi laughed.

“Good to know,” he said. “That’s important information for a parent to have.”

“I suddenly regret being adopted,” Hitoshi said, quickly moving behind Shouta, using him as a human shield.

Shouta let out an exasperated sigh, but he was smiling again. “Let’s just make the dough, come on. It still needs to chill before we can bake it.”

“Why do we chill the dough?” Eri asked.

Hizashi hummed. “I think it helps the cookies from spreading so much when you bake them? Or maybe that’s just with chocolate chip cookies…” Hizashi trailed off in thought.

Either way, Eri nodded, accepting the answer. Hitoshi moved back to finish mixing the dough.

Once the dough was wrapped up in wax paper and stuck in the refrigerator to chill, they washed their hands and retreated to the living room. Hitoshi and Eri were elected to choose a Christmas movie while Shouta and Hizashi collapsed onto the couch. Hizashi quickly cuddled up to Shouta, burying a hand into his hair.

“Someone’s affectionate,” Shouta chuckled.

“Gotta claim my spot before one of the cats does,” Hizashi replied, only curling in closer.

As if on cue, Blanket and Kermit came racing in from the office and launched onto the couch. They immediately curled up as close to Shouta as they could get, and it only made Shouta laugh harder.

The kids put on some cartoon that Shouta had probably seen before, and as soon as Eri plopped onto the floor, Tigress slinked out of wherever she’d been hiding and curled up in Eri’s lap. Shouta snapped a sneaky picture while Hizashi cooed quietly. 

And then Hizashi’s hand started scratching at Shouta’s scalp and he was out like a light.

He was shaken awake an indeterminate amount of time later and opened his eyes to movie credits rolling over the TV screen.

“Time to get baking!” Hizashi sang in his ear, clearly uncaring about the fact that Shouta just woke up.

He waved Hizashi and the kids on without him, taking a few more moments to gather himself and wake up. When Shouta finally made his way into the kitchen, Hizashi was helping Eri pick out which cookie cutters to use while Hitoshi was hesitantly sprinkling flour over the counter. Shouta nodded at him, going to fetch the dough.

“Good,” he told Hitoshi. “But keep the flour out, we’re going to need to put more down at some point.”

“Sho?” Hizashi called. “Would you mind helping Eri wash the cookie cutters? Who knows how long they’ve been in that drawer.”

Instead of answering, Shouta gently plucked Eri from her step stool and perched her on his hip, gathering the cookie cutters in one hand. He placed her down on the counter next to the sink and began washing the shapes she’s chosen, muttering all the while about being mindful of the sharp edges.

From there, Hizashi and Shouta made the silent decision to let the kids take over. Hitoshi swiftly, if a bit awkwardly, slipped into his role of older brother, showing Eri how to best use the cookie cutters. Hizashi and Shouta did, however, handle the oven portion of the baking, carefully taking the cut dough from their hands and placing them on baking sheets.

Hizashi gently chided them as Hitoshi tried to sneak a bite of the dough, and Shouta promptly distracted him. He sent a subtle wink in Hitoshi and Eri’s direction and saw them immediately began stuffing their mouths full of dough over Hizashi’s shoulder.

Shouta couldn’t help but sneak a few bites of his own when Hizashi turned back around to watch the kids. He was much more successful than they had been.

Soon enough, they were whipping up the frosting (or, rather, Shouta was while the rest of them completed the baking portion of the day) and digging their collection of sprinkles and food dye out of the pantry.

This was Hizashi’s favorite part, and it quickly became clear that it was Eri’s, too. The two of them had a knack for decoration. Even with Eri’s difficulty controlling where her frosting went, their cookies turned out decently better than Hitoshi’s or Shouta’s. Not that Shouta minded, he was more there to steal tastes of frosting over anything else.

Hitoshi quickly picked up on this habit.

After all the excitement, Shouta and Hizashi only let the kids have a couple of cookies after dinner before sending them to bed. Tomorrow was a big day, after all. Their first Christmas as a family was nothing to blink at, and Santa had a few things to get done before then.

Especially if the two of them kept getting distracted kissing frosting off each other’s faces.

[doc-pickles]

i’ll be home for christmas

Oh look, I remembered to post! Welcome to another week of “tis the season for two dumb bitches” starring me and @odd-birds-and-booksellers​ I decided to write for Hesitate this week. It’s short (I wanted to add more but my brain hurts and I am tired) but fluffy! Enjoy :)

    “I know I’ve come the past few years, but since everything with Izzie happened my life has kind of… imploded. I will do my best to be there, mom. I know, I love you too. Bye.”

  Alex let out a groan as he pushed open the door to the house he shared with Jo and Harper. He’d already had a long day and his mother calling and badgering him about his Christmas plans was not something that helped his growing frustration. As he walked into the living room he noted that the house was much quieter than usual, Jo and Harper were usually already making a fair amount of noise around the house by now. He knew they were home, Jo’s car was parked in the driveway and the lights around the house were on. 

  “Jo? Harper? Where are you guys,” Alex called out but didn’t get a response, his heart rate quickening when he didn’t see either his wife or daughter downstairs. He took the stairs two at a time, checking Harper’s room and finally sighing in relief as he walked into the master bedroom. 

  Laid out across their bed, Jo and Harper were both sleeping soundly. Harper was curled around Jo’s growing baby bump, her dark curls splayed out around her as quiet snores left her mouth. Alex took his shoes off and set them in the closet before sitting next to Jo, her eyes cracking open to look up at him. 

  “She wouldn’t nap unless I laid down with her,” Jo ran her fingers through Harper’s hair as Alex leaned down to press a kiss against her cheek. “How was your day?” “Shitty. Work sucked and then my mom called asking if I was coming out for Christmas,” Alex let one hand drop to Jo’s belly, waiting only a few seconds before a kick met his hand. “I told her I’d think about it, I haven’t exactly explained to her what happened since I moved back home. I don’t wanna overwhelm her…” 

  Turning to face Alex, Jo raised her eyebrows at her husband, “So you haven’t told her about Harper and I?”

  “You make it sound like I’m hiding you guys,” Alex smirked, bringing his hand up to run through Jo’s hair. “I haven’t told her anything and I’d love to go visit, but this will be my first Christmas with Harper and I don’t want to miss that. I’ve missed enough already.”

  Jo reached one hand up to press against Alex’s cheek, a smile spreading on her face, “You aren’t going to miss anything else, Why don’t we just go with you?” “That’ll blow over great,” Alex chuckled, rolling his eyes as he settled back against the headboard. “‘Hey mom, I know it’s been a minute since we talked but I’m here with my ex wife who I remarried and my kid I didn’t know about for two years. Oh by the way we have another one on the way, Merry Christmas!’” +

  “You know sometimes I really think you’ve lost it,” Alex grumbled as he drove past another row of cornfields. “This would be one of those times.” Jo had somehow convinced him to fly to Iowa for Christmas with her and Harper in tow. He hadn’t told his mom anything yet, wanting a chance to explain things in person rather than over the phone. The thought made him anxious, hoping that Helen would be elated over more grandchildren rather than upset that he hadn’t mentioned anything to her. They’d grown closer over the past few years, Alex always calling at least once a week to check in with his mom. The fact that he’d kept Harper and Jo from her for almost seven months was a miracle.

  “Stop worrying, everything will be fine. Besides your mom loves me,” Jo settled one hand onto her belly, pressing down at the tiny foot that was kicking up at her. “You need to calm down in there missy, you’ve been nothing but trouble since we stepped off the plane.”

  Alex eyed the towering blue house as they pulled onto his moms street. He’d only visited a handful of times, but the Christmas lights and the large wreath on the door made the home look inviting. He recognized Amber’s mini van parked out front, groaning as he realized that both his mother and sister would accost him with a multitude of questions as soon as he walked through the door. 

  “And that’s a foot to the bladder,” Jo groaned, Alex eyeing her as he parked the rental car. “Sorry to say that you can’t stall out here for long because I have to pee. You can blame your daughter for that.”

  Heaving a sigh, Alex grabbed a sleeping Harper from the backseat, her head resting on his shoulder as he made his way up the steps of his mom's porch. Jo was standing right next to him, one hand resting on his back comfortingly as he rang the doorbell. The few seconds he waited for his mother to appear were nerve wracking, Alex’s mind playing out worst case scenarios as he nervously tapped his foot. 

  “Alex! I wasn’t sure if you’d show up, what a lovely surprise,” Helen Karev looked as joyful as ever as she greeted Alex, eyes scanning Harper and Jo quickly before ushering all three inside. “Come in, it’s cold out there.”

  Jo and Alex shuffled inside, Alex watching silently as his wife shed her heavy winter coat. His mom didn’t miss the movement either, her eyes immediately taking in the sight of Jo’s almost 30 week baby bump. 

  “I’d love to catch up but I really need to pee first,” Jo grinned at Helen, who directed her down the hallway. As soon as she was out of sight, Alex felt a sharp smack against the back of his head. 

  “Ow! What the hell,” Alex glared at his mother, who was now taking in Harper’s sleeping form. “Geez, that’s a nice warm welcome. I missed you too mom.”

  “I knew you were hiding something from me, I just didn’t think it was a wife and two kids,” Helen began to walk down the hallway towards the living room, Alex following dutifully. “Amber, your brother is here with his new family.”

  A grin took over Alex’s face as his sister came into view, Amber rushing over to pull him into a tight hug. He hadn’t seen her last Christmas because of her work schedule, so the reunion was all the more exciting, “You’ve been holding out on us! I thought you got rid of those twins and the blonde devil, who’s this on your shoulder?”

  Alex rolled his eyes as he settled onto the couch next to Amber, Harper snuggling further into his chest, “I did, thank god. This is Harper, my actual daughter.”

  Amber’s eyebrows rose in shock, Alex holding back his laughter as he realized he had seen the expression on Harper countless times. He was always amazed by just how much of a Karev his daughter was, both in looks and attitude, “Damn you’ve been busy. You hiding a new wife and a van full of kids outside too?”

  “I swear she knows we’re traveling, she has been on top of my bladder all day,” both Amber and Alex’s gazes flicked up to Jo, who now stood behind the couch as she adjusted the sweater she wore. “Amber! It’s so good to see you, it’s been so long!”

  “Jesus Christ Alex, you could call us every once in a while! What’s wrong with you,” Amber jumped up to pull Jo into a hug, “Okay now you have to tell me everything my brother has left out because clearly he’s terrible at communicating with us.”

  +

  Alex eyed the scene playing out in the living room with a grin, the sight warming his heart. Harper was playing with Amber’s two daughters, the older girls ecstatic to have a playmate that would do anything that they asked. Jo and Amber sat on the couch with her husband Matt talking about something he couldn’t quite hear from his position in the kitchen. Both his sister and his wife looked happy though, probably happier than he’d seen either of them in a long while.

  “I’m glad you came out, Jo and Harper both seem to be getting on well with everyone,” Alex snapped out of his daze as his mom came to stand next to him. “I know this year has been rough on you, you deserve to be happy though and anyone with eyes can tell that those girls over there do more than an excellent job of that. Maybe next time don’t wait half a year to tell me though.”

  A smirk spanning his cheeks, Alex wrapped an arm around his mom, “You’re gonna hold that over me for the rest of my life aren’t you?”

  Helen shrugged, leaning into Alex’s embrace as they surveyed their family laughing in the other room. For all that had gone wrong this year, Alex was happy that things had ended well for him. He didn’t think he’d ever get a chance to right the wrongs of his relationship with Jo but he’d been granted that opportunity which he was thankful for more than he could say. Leaving Kansas he truly never thought he’d get the chance to truly be a father, but glancing out at Harper giggling excitedly and Jo’s hands cradling her growing bump he knew that someone was looking out for him. 

  “I would be willing to not bring it up if you keep bringing my grandkids and that pretty wife of yours back home every once in a while,” Alex laughed at his mother’s statement. Of course she’d care more about Jo and the girls than him. 

  “I’m sure I can make that happen mom.”

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

First Christmas

Just fluff. This was inspired by one of Raul's SVU master interview he did and he was wearing a bracelet. 

Warning: slight language.

Enjoy x

"Do you have to go out dressed like that when I'm not there? I'm tempted not to let you go and keep you all to myself”

Rafael had his arms wrapped around your waist while you were trying to finish getting ready to go out. It was your first squad Christmas party, the first work thing without Nick and your first Christmas with Rafael.

Your lease was ending in your apartment after the New Year, so you started to move your stuff in slowly and mix your things in with his.

You guys had a small Christmas tree up and a beautiful big wreath on the door. Your Mum was coming to the city for Christmas and Boxing Day, staying at your apartment during her time here. This was the first time Lucia and her would be meeting. You and Sonny were having Christmas off, but you were both working over the New Year’s.

"I'll only be a few hours Rafi, then I'll be home and all yours" you spun around in his arms and kissed his nose.

"Well don't drink too much, and if you need me to come and get you just call"

He started to run his hand up your thigh along your stockings up under your dress, while he was kissing your neck.

"Rafi-I have-to-finish-oh Raf." You moaned as he kissed your neck and cupped your core through your stockings and panties.

You had black stockings on with a red long sleeved dress that came to your mid thighs, with a scoop neck and an elastic waist, black ballet flats, your hair was down curled with a piece of holly pinned in it. He kissed his way up your neck to your ear,

"Sure I can't make you change your mind and stay? You’re like a present that needs to be unwrapped" he whispered in your ear and you bit your bottom lip. Before you had a chance to answer, your phone rang, it was Amanda,

"Hey Amanda"

"Hey Y/N, I'm down stairs"

"Ok be right there" you smiled at Rafael, he rolled his eyes taking his hands away from you while you hung up.

"She sure knows how to cock block me doesn't she" you laughed cupping his cheek.

"Don't be like that Rafi, we will continue this when I get home" you winked at him.

Liv had booked a table at one of the best Italian restaurant in the area and then you guys were going to go out drinking and dancing. No one had to work the next day, but you were all on call just in case. To add a little bit of fun because it was Christmas, you all decided to dress in red or green. You all looked so festive.

You and Amanda got to the restaurant first and waited for everyone to come. Once you guys were shown to your seats, you all seen the table was set for 6. You were sitting next to Sonny, Amanda was across from you between Liv and Fin, with a spare seat next to you placed.

“Are we expecting someone else?" Amanda asked.

"Yes, me" you knew that voice anywhere

"Rafi" you smiled as you looked up.

He was dressed in a black suit with a white button down, with a red scarf and his brown over coat. You got up from your seat and pretty much jumped into his arms. He wrapped his arms around your waist and yours around his neck and you kissed him hello.

"Hey Hermosa" and he kissed you again.

Rafael said hello to everyone and took his seat on the other side of you.

"Glad you made it Barba, Your just as much part of the team as the rest of us" Liv smiled and Rafael looked at you with a wink and a smirk.

You guys all ordered entries and dinner. And your drinks arrived.

"I want to do a toast" Liv started "I think of all my years at SVU this one has to have been one of my favourite. We had two new squad members join us and it was like they had always been here. We had some tough stuff happen, we lost someone we all loved very much. But we also had a lot of good stuff happen. I wouldn't want to be walking through tough stuff or the good stuff without you all by my side. Cheers" you all clinked your glasses.

Dinner was amazing and you all decided to go to a night club one block down. Excitement filled you when you saw what club it was. It was a retro club that mostly played 80's music. You had been wanting to check it out with Rafael but something always came up the nights you wanted to go. Little did you know, he actually suggested to Liv that you guys should all go there tonight after dinner because it was so close.

It was cold outside, so you guys walked quickly to get to where you needed to go to get back inside. Rafael had his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you guys were walking behind the others.

"Rafi?"

"Yes Hermosa?"

"How long ago did Liv invite you to tonight?" He laughed

"About 2 weeks ago. I wanted to leave it as a surprise" you giggled

"What if I had turned around earlier and said I would have stayed home with you?"

He lent close to your ear

"I would have made it worth your while. But now you will have to wait till we get home" he gave you a cheeky smile.

****

The lead up to Christmas went fairly quick and was there before you knew it. Nothing major had come in by Christmas Eve so Liv gave you all the nod to leave early, which worked in your favour. Sonny offered to go with you to the grocery store to pick up some last minute stuff for Christmas day.

Your Mum would be in New York late that night, but would be at yours and Rafael’s in the morning. You and Rafael had promised to go to Lucia’s for Christmas Eve dinner, then midnight mass, then she would be at your guys place for Christmas lunch. You had all decided no presents this year, you all just wanted to spend time together. But you did organise a couple of small things for Rafael that he didn't know about.

"So Y/N, your Mum's are meeting uh? Are ya nervous?"

"Not really Sonny, I think they will get along. It's just a big step you know. Moving in together and then mothers meeting during Christmas"

Sonny patted you in the back, "It will be fine."

Sonny drove you back and helped you take the shopping up and you turned on the jug to make him a coffee. Sonny was no Nick, but you had a cute little brother sister bond thing going on. You made the coffee and you both moved to the dining table.

"Ya know- I'm no Nick. They are big shoes to fill you guys were tight. He was your best friend. But I'm glad I was partnered with you. Not that there is anything wrong with Fin or Rollins. But we make a good team" you giggled.

"Sonny I'm glad you’re my partner, you’re a great person and you are one of my best friends, I trust you with my life." you smiled at him. A big smile came to his face.

"Same Y/N"

****

2am you and Rafael finally made it home. Dinner as amazing at Lucia's and midnight mass was beautiful. You both made your way to bed, knowing you had to be up early to start cooking for lunch.

Your Mum came early and helped you guys. You went into the bathroom to shower and get dressed. As you walked out, you could hear your mum and Rafael talking in the kitchen,

"Well you have my blessing Rafael, when the time is right you do did. I think what you have planned she is going to love it. I couldn't have picked anyone better than you if I tried"

Butterflies filled your tummy and a smiled pulled to your face, but you were pulled out of the feeling when there was a knock on the door.

Christmas lunch couldn't have gone any better. The mum's got along amazing, and Lucia had invited you all over the next day for Boxing Day for a Cuban meal. Lucia offered to drive your mum home and they left around 10. Everything had been cleaned and Rafael poured two glasses of wine.

"Hermosa, the wine is ready"

"Coming" you walked out of the bed room with two gifts and you sat next to Rafael, he looked at the presents in your lap.

"Hermosa, what did we say about presents this year?"

"I know, but they are just something small and it's our first Christmas together"

You handed them over to him.

"Open the rectangle one first" you smiled at him.

He ripped the paper off and a huge smile pulled to his face. It was a framed photo of you and him from your first date. It was a selfie you had taken. His arms were around your waist, you had one arm around his neck. You were cheek to cheek smiling hard. He looked up at so happy.

"You don't have many photos here, so I thought since I'm moving in we needed a photo of us around"

"I love it Hermosa, thank you"

"Don't thank me yet, you have another one to open"

He put the photo on the coffee table and started to unwrap the smaller square box. His eyes filled with tears when he seen the gold ID bracelet sitting inside. He pulled it off the pillow, looking at it closely. On the top of the bar it had 'Rafael' engraved on it, he turned it over and on the back 'I love you always'

He lent over and kissed you light on the lips.

"Here, I'll put it on for you" he looked at it shinning on his arm once you clipped it up.

"Well I'm glad I got you something as well" you both laughed.

He pulled out a small green velvet box from his pocket. Your tummy filled with butterflies. He turned his body towards you.

"Mi Hermosa, I have never been as happy as I have been the last few months. You’re the love of my life and I want to grow old with you. In this box is something very special. It was Abuela’s and I want you to have it as my commitment to you" he paused "This is a commitment ring. I'm committing to you that one day I'm going to marry you and have a family"

Your eyes were filled with tears as he opened the box, it was a sliver band with a blue square cut diamond with two small white square stones on either side. He pulled the ring out of the box and handed it to you.

"I want you to read what's engraved on the inside"

You moved the ring to the light 'Only You' was on the inside of the band. Tears fell down your cheeks, he took the ring off you, grabbed your right hand and slid the ring onto your ring finger.

"I'll never take it off Rafi"

[bunivys]

I don’t know why but this feels like nick and Sabrina to me.

- “i said UGLY christmas sweaters not nsfw christmas sweaters, we can NOT wear these, my boss will kill me”

I stayed up late to finish this one because I could not, for the life of me, stop laughing LOL. Here you go, thank you for sending this in! ❤️😹 (btw, this is set in some random mortal AU lol)

“Nick!” Sabrina called as she bounded up the mortuary’s stairway, the front door shutting behind her, heels hanging by their straps in her hands. “Did you get the sweaters like I asked?”

The annual Christmas festival was being held in Greendale’s city park at the very center of the downtown district. It was a small patch of green set in between the buildings, and, as of that morning, it had been crammed full of various food and art booths, set to sell Christmas trinkets and last-minute gifts, as well as handmade decor like wreaths and ornaments. Hilda herself was going to be there selling her famous Christmas cookies. 

More importantly, Sabrina had been in charge of organizing it, answering directly to the town’s Mayor. She was set to take the stage and introduce the event that evening, and her nerves had been on edge since the second she had woken up. Nick had offered her several extra kisses on her way out that morning, letting her know that if she needed anything to text him. Halfway through the day, it had dawned on her that she’d forgotten to order a set of ugly Christmas sweaters for them to wear to the event and had tasked him with taking care of it.

“Of course,” Nick said, the door to her room swinging wide open to reveal him. “I literally only had one job, and I did it.”

“Oh, thank God.” She followed him into the room. “Let me see what you got.”

Across her bed were randomly splayed Christmas sweaters and as Sabrina glanced over them, her eyes shot wide open. She had requested ugly sweaters, things covered in tinsel and pom-poms and stupid, harmless phrases, but definitely not this.

“Nick,” Sabrina squawked, “are you freaking serious?” Nick looked entirely too innocent as she lifted up one of the sweaters, holding it up to her chest so that it faced him. Along the front of it, in bold, sparkly text in varying Christmas colors, it read: Unwrap me for a naughty surprise. 

“What?” Nick replied, pressing his lips together in order to keep a straight face. “You don’t have to pick that one, there are plenty to choose from.” He motioned toward the pile.

“Oh, really?” Sabrina grabbed for another, her voice tight as she picked up a green sweater with a string of battery-operated lights attached to the front. “You mean like this one that says: ‘Please turn me on.’ Or wait, maybe—” she tossed that one at him, pausing only long enough to hold up a different one with a winking Santa on it,  “—‘Ask your mom if I’m real?’” Her voice rose in pitch as she read it out, ringing deep with disbelief and utter shock at the thought that a sweater like that could even exist.

“’Jingle my bells’?” Sabrina nearly shouted a second later.

Nick chuckled.

“This isn’t funny! You’ve lost your goddamned mind, Nicholas!” She knew she was frowning, and she thought one of her eyes might have been twitching from anger. Ambrose came sauntering in, drawn in by the volume of her voice ringing through the house. 

“What’s going on?” Ambrose asked. “I’m pretty sure the neighbors can hear you, and they’re all dead.”

Sabrina’s face lit up bright red, ready to snap at him, too. Before she could, Nick went on to casually say, “We’re picking between Christmas sweaters. It’s between those or—” he picked up the last one, held it up against his chest that time, and read out, “‘Santa’s favorite ho’”

“Ooh,” Ambrose sang. “I’ll take that one, please!”

“I hate you both,” Sabrina seethed. “This is not what I asked for and you—” She turned to look at Nick, who immediately straightened up and played serious again, even though he had nearly dissolved into laughter with Ambrose a split second earlier. “You—you—”

“Babe,” Nick cut in.

“Do not interrupt me, or so help you God and Satan himself, Nicholas, your soul will forever be tied to the morgue below because I am going to—” She stopped herself, shut her eyes for a few moments, and forced herself to breathe deeply as the reality of the situation slowly dawned on her. There wasn’t enough time to go back to the store. All of them were closed for the evening in anticipation of the festival. She was going to be laughed at forever. “The mayor is going to be there. I’m presenting this stupid event and I have to come in as ‘Santa’s favorite ho?’ Are you serious?”

“That title’s actually taken—” Ambrose interrupted. He shut up quickly when Sabrina shot him a pointed look.

Nick set his hands carefully on her shoulders. “Babe, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking—”

“No shit!”

“I wasn’t thinking it would it would turn into this, Sabrina, I knew you were stressed and I just wanted to make you laugh. Look.” He held up his hands as she tried to barge in with another sentence. “I didn’t show you this one yet.” Nick picked up the last sweater, a little red one she hadn’t noticed had been tossed over her headboard. It had a black cat on the front, similar to Salem, with text that read, ‘Meowy Christmas!’ across the top.

“Oh,” Sabrina exhaled, her anger dialing back several notches suddenly, leaving a small pout on her face instead. “I—Oh. Okay, well, that one works. I guess.”

“I’m so sorry, Sabrina, I was hoping you would laugh.” He held out his arms tentatively. “Come here?”

Sabrina begrudgingly walked into his embrace, and Nick draped his arms around her, rubbing a hand up and down her back. He kissed her hair, her forehead, any part of her he could reach, repeating how sorry he was. 

“Whatever,” Sabrina grumbled, not quite ready to admit that in hindsight, it had been sort of funny. At the very least, she understood that Nick had only tried to cheer her up, even if she was still a little peeved.

“Forgive me?” Nick asked sheepishly. “I might not Santa’s favorite ho, but I could still be yours?”

Sabrina rolled her eyes and took the cat sweater from him, pulling away so that she could off and change before he actually made her laugh with one of his stupid jokes. She was certain they were running late by now, too. “I’m divorcing you,” she announced on her way.

“But we’re not married,” Nick replied, suddenly a little nervous himself.

“Well, consider it never happening now.” 

“Sabrina, wait—”

The door to her bathroom shut, but he briefly saw the corner of her smirk before it was gone.

Ambrose, who had already donned his sweater, shrugged and said, “You can sleep in my room tonight.”

[hamsterboos]

Deck the Halls with Boughs of Holly

🎄Day 9 of 12 Days of PJO Christmas🎄

“So, Ms. I-Plan-Everything, tell me, how are we tackling the absolutely important job of decorating our apartment for Christmas?”

"The plan is simple and involves one thing: buying cute things that’ll look good. We also need a tree that’ll fit in our tiny apartment"

“Annabeth, those are two things.”

“Technicalities.”

PSA: These drabbles are canon-compliant till HoO and just acknowledge the existence of Estelle. Also technology use is a thing.

Read on AO3

~~~~~

“So, Ms. I-Plan-Everything, tell me, how are we tackling the absolutely important job of decorating our apartment for Christmas?” Percy asked his girlfriend as they walked into the store. Annabeth walked over to the area where they stored the carts and grabbed one before taking Percy’s hand.

“The plan is simple and involves one thing: buying cute things that’ll look good. We also need a tree that’ll fit in our tiny ass apartment,” Annabeth responded. Percy watched as she easily navigated them to the décor section of the store, holding the cart with one hand and his in the other. 

“Annabeth, those are two things.”

“Technicalities.”

Percy snorted. “Hopefully we’ll find some good stuff on sale. We should stock up on more stuff around New Year’s when they’re clearing all this stuff out.”

“Honestly? At the bare minimum I just want stuff that’ll match, but we absolutely need a tree.” 

Once in the appropriate aisle, they were surrounded by Christmas decor, and they stood in front of the wreaths first, and as much as it sucked that they had to check the price eight times, they were on a budget.

Living in New York City right after graduation was absolutely so expensive, especially simply six months out of university, and Percy was so utterly thankful for Annabeth’s dad who had gifted her the apartment they lived in as a graduation present (and probably a gift to apologize for ignoring her all those years) , but they still had to pay bills. Not to mention the fact that Percy went back to school for a master’s degree in education while Annabeth was working her way from the bottom in an architecture firm nearby. 

It was safe to say that their budget wasn’t very high.

Annabeth reached out for a small wreath that had a big red ribbon in the center on the top with small gold, green, and red bells along with pine cones dispersed through the rest of the wreath. It was small enough that it would fit in their kitchen window, and it was connected with another bigger wreath as well. The bigger wreath had a similar design except the ribbon was on the bottom of the wreath, and there were more bells and pine cones.

“This is great for the window and the front door, no?” she asked, turning to look at him. Percy took it from her hand and put it into the cart.

“I approve.” Annabeth beamed at him, and he laughed quickly. Going out to shop for Christmas decorations had made him feel like he was a ten year old going out to get a few new ornaments for Christmas with his mom, and it was clear that Annabeth felt the same way. 

She wandered off, leaving the cart to Percy, and he trailed behind her, looking at all the things she stopped to show him, only to realize that they didn’t really fit in their apartment or they were too expensive. Eventually, she came across a rotating stand with Christmas accessories. He watched as she quickly grabbed a reindeer headband with jingling bells and grabbed him to put it on her.

“Oh my god, Annabeth please stop manhandling me,” he whined as she tugged on his collar to pull his head farther down. 

“You’re just a big baby,” she retorted, setting the headband on his head. She let him go and stepped back slightly, a big smile gracing her face as she bit her lip. “You look adorable.”

Percy shook his head slightly and flinched when the loud tinkling of the bells reached his ears. 

“God I’m going to be so obnoxious if I just roam around with this on my head.”

“More so than you already are?

“Can you not.”

“I can’t not.” Percy squinted at her as he took the headband out of his head and threw it in the cart. Annabeth watched him with a curious look on her face, silently asking him why he put it in the cart.

“You can’t expect me not to put it in the cart when you were so excited to put it on me, Annabeth,” he responded in a matter-of-fact tone, and he relished in the fact that he had succeeded in making her smile. “Come on,” he laughed, “we still have a lot of stuff to get.”

He pushed the cart around the aisles, picking up small packs of white and blue ornaments under his insistence. Growing up, everything was blue, and he had to carry the tradition on in his own apartment.

Annabeth had argued that it wasn’t just his apartment anymore, but he knew that she was more than willing to get white and blue ornaments, so he just grinned and put the pack into the cart. They had even managed to find a really pretty garland that came with red and gold ornaments, and despite the fact that the ornaments for the tree didn’t match the garland, Percy found himself not caring. If anything, their apartment would look amazing with the different colors while keeping the color scheme individualized between the tree and garland.

Plus, after asking around for a bit, they found a four foot Christmas tree that came with multi-colored lights strung already through it, so it saved them money having to buy the lights separately. 

“Oh, Percy, look!” Annabeth exclaimed, pointing at a pack of two throw pillows, one white and one red. The red one had white snowflakes patterned onto it on both sides, and the blue one had a gold reindeer outline on one side, the other being completely solid white. “These are just what we need to tie together the colors.” Percy happily watched as she picked up the pack and looked at the price tag, only for her face to fall slightly.

“What?” he asked.

“It’s $25, Perce,” she responded in a dejected tone. Percy bit his lip and quickly did the mental calculation. He had gotten in extra hours teaching swimming at the local gym this past week, so he did have a bit of extra cash at hand that he was going to use for spending on food, but this seemed more important.

“Get it,” he spoke up. She turned to look at him like he was crazy.

“It’s too much for throw pillows,” she responded, shaking her head and beginning to walk away.

“Annabeth,” he stressed, catching her wrist. He moved his hand down to lace his fingers through hers. “We saved some money on the tree, and I have some extra money from working this week.”

“But we don’t need this.”

“We don’t need any of this, but if it’ll make you happy, it’s worth it.”

She looked at him carefully, pursing her lips and furrowing her eyebrows. Her gray eyes searched his face, and he made sure that he left his expression completely open for her to read. She could read him easily, but he needed her to understand that he wanted to get this for her. Because it would make her happy.

They were decorating their home, and if she was happy, that was more than enough for him.

“Are you sure?” she whispered. He nodded, and he cupped her jaw with his free hand, rubbing his thumb across her cheek. “Okay. Thanks,” Annabeth answered, a beautiful smile gracing her face. He grinned and threw the pack of throw pillows in the cart. Annabeth took over driving the car as they walked out of the aisle.

“Okay, let’s go roommate. It’s time we decorated the apartment,” Percy announced, pointing towards the registers. 

“Oh wow I got demoted from girlfriend to roommate real fast.”

“Eh, it happens,” he shrugged, laughing as he wrapped an arm around Annabeth’s shoulders.

~*~

“Percy! The gold and red ornaments are with the garland.”

“Oh Jesus, woman, why are they with the tree, then?!”

“I don’t know? You put them there!”

“Annabeth, you took the stuff out of the bags while I made lunch.”

Annabeth scowled at him as she responded, “You moved everything off the couch so we could watch a movie while eating.”

“You pushed it all to the side while dragging me to the bedroom, Annabeth,” he responded, mocking her tone.

“The whole reason we even got the blue ornaments for the tree was because of you, asshole,” she answered, smacking him in the bicep as he got down from the chair to put down the box of ornaments and switch it with the red and gold ones.

“First of all, ow. Second of all, you could help me instead of staring at me.”

“Staring at the help is the best part of decorating, though,” Annabeth answered, smirking slightly as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Well then, how about you do the decorating so I can do the staring?” he responded, holding out the box of decorations towards her. He beamed at her, hoping that he could break her, and he watched as she glanced between him and the box.

In the end, she sighed and took the box from him, climbing up the chair. 

“You know, that’s really not fair,” she spoke up as she took an ornament out of the box before setting it down on the chair by her feet. She reached up to hook it through the garland, a bit of skin showing as her shirt rode up with the stretch of her arms.

“What?” he asked, his eyes transfixed on the small bit of skin without him even meaning to look there.

“The fact that you can just look at me and get me to do things.” That broke him out of his stupor as he barked a laugh. She shuffled around on the chair, turning to look at him with her hands on her waist. He walked over to her and grabbed her hand, tugging her down the chair. Confused, she moved down. Percy gave the box of ornaments to his girlfriend and stood up on the chair, holding a hand out.

She still just stared at him, completely lost, and he made grabbing motions towards the ornaments.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, handing him one. He hooked it into the garland before speaking.;

“You have the same effect on me so we’re even.”

Thirty minutes later, the wreaths were hanging on the window and door, the tree was assembled and twinkling under the dimmed lights of the living room, and the garland was hanging from the doorway between the kitchen and living room. The throw pillows were set on either side of their sofa, and Percy felt intense happiness for the life he had finally managed to get for himself.

~~~~~

Day 1 || Day 2 || Day 3 || Day 4 || Day 5 || Day 6 || Day 7 || Day 8

[excuseme-howdareyou]

Death

@alculai (While I’m not the best at writing bad family, I’m unfortunately great at death and grief)

Warning: Major character death

Song of choice: ‘For This You Were Born’ by UNSECRET

..........

“Come on, come on, where is it?” Tim grumbled to himself as he practically tore apart his closet in search of his glove. It was right here! Or at least it had been last night when he got off patrol with Bruce at 2am. Tim had come home from a long night, exhausted and sore, and just kinda… threw off his uniform and tossed it into the closet. The uniform had been right where he threw it when he got dressed for tonight’s patrol. Minus one green glove.

Tim scratched his head and stared at his other hand, his bare hand. He needed that glove!

“Looking for this?” Batman popped up behind him, helpfully holding up the missing glove.

“Guukk!” Tim screeched.

……………….

If he didn’t know any better, Tim would think the night was getting colder. But no, this was the height of summer in Rome, and Rome summers were hot and sticky.

‘Heh, guess I got the sticky part down,’ he chuckled to himself and spared a glance at his palm. The night was dark, but the streetlights just strong enough to show the glimmer of blood. With a grimace, he pressed his hand back against his side. Shit, it wasn’t even stinging anymore. Just a dull ache and he could feel himself shivering. It felt like the night was getting colder but he knew better.

This alley was dark and dirty and whatever little shelter he found behind this dumpster would only last so long. ‘Come on, Tim, time to get going,’ he encouraged himself. With his free hand, he reached up and grasped the side of the dumpster to pull himself up.

‘Just a… just a little bit further.’

……………………

“Bruce Wayne?”

Bruce looked up from speaking with Lucius and saw two men in pressed trousers and simple button ups. Law enforcement of some kind, his senses told him, seeing the faint outline of a firearm at the calf of the taller one. “Hello,” he greeted them with his best Wayne smile,” How can I help you gentlemen?”

Just like he was expecting, they both held up their wallets sideways. “I’m Agent Markos of INTERPOL,” the shorter, blonde one said,” This is Agent Paul, we have some questions to ask you about your son.”

Internally, Bruce was grimacing. ‘Oh geez, what has Jason done this time?’ But outside he appeared worried,” Oh boy, they didn’t cause an international incident, did they?”

While the taller one continued to glare him in that subtle way, the shorter one at least attempted to be polite about the whole thing. “Mr. Wayne, when was the last time you saw your son?” he asked.

“Just yesterday I spoke to Dick, we talked on the phone for a little bit about his work,” Bruce answered readily enough. Granted, the work they talked about was Nightwing cases, but he could let the agents assume he meant they talked about Dick’s work as a police officer. “Damian I saw this morning as he went to school.”

“And your other son?”

“Jason’s happily running the Ice Lounge as far as I know.”

Whatever mock-politeness was on the taller agent’s face dissolved as he all but scowled at him. “Your other son,” he prompted through gritted teeth. His younger counterpart discreetly hushed him and one elbow pressed against his side until he stepped back and let the blond take the lead again.

It was Lucius who figured it out first. “Oh my god,” his jaw dropped open,” Tim. It’s Tim, isn’t it? Is he alright?” He looked between the two agents, becoming more anxious as he looked at their contrite faces. “Please, tell us. What’s happened?” he practically pleaded.

Agent Markos took a slow, measured breath. “Mr. Wayne, Mr. Fox,” he began,” I’m sorry to tell you, Tim Drake’s body was found three days ago in Rome, Italy…”

‘No…’

All the breath left Bruce’s body in one big whoosh.

“...Our medical examiner reports he passed on sometime last week…” Agent Markos was still speaking but… but Bruce could barely hear him, could barely comprehend what he was saying.

“...We’re trying to establish the last time he had contact with any of his family, try to figure out why he was in Rome…”

‘Tim… no, no… not Tim…’

“...-ayne? Mr. Wayne?-”

Then all went black.

……………………

Boarding schools weren’t big on the whole holiday thing. Sure, they put up decorations wherever there was room, allowing the professors to hang wreaths on their classroom doors and turned a blind eye when a student decked out his room in flashing colored lights. But beyond winter break and the decorations, the holidays were wholly unappetizing is one were to stay there for the Christmas season.

Mom and Dad weren’t able to fly back for the holidays, a new room of artifacts had been discovered on their dig and everything needed to be closely studied and catalogued. Or at least, that’s what he thought needed to be done. He wished they would tell him what they found, what was so exciting that they couldn’t fly back for just two days. Heck, he’d even take one day.

He could go home for winter break, head back to Drake Manor and hang out for two weeks before classes started after New Years. But the manor was empty and he doubted the cleaning service bothered to put up wreaths and lights while they kept the place tidy. Here, in his half of the dorm room, there were lights strung up around his four poster bed and a tiny little pine tree on his nightstand. That would have to be festive enough. And hey! He actually had the dorm to himself for once, as his roommate went back to Philadelphia to visit family.

It wasn’t such a bad Christmas, he surmised. He even got a little present from Batman when they finished patrol last night and a day off, telling him to enjoy Christmas. That had to have been big, Tim guessed, because he was pretty sure Bruce was Jewish and didn’t think he celebrated Christmas. Then he wondered if perhaps it was Dick who celebrated Christmas and that’s why Bruce got him a present, because he got Dick one too and thought might as well get both Robins something for the holiday. He wondered if Dick had driven home for the holiday, taking a weekend off from work and he wondered if they set up a big Christmas tree in the Wayne Manor. He bet they did. That sounded like something Alfred would do.

He wondered if when Bruce sent him home for the holiday, did he know he was sending Tim back to an empty dorm at the boarding school?

………………

Tim used to think Rome was beautiful. Hated how hot and muggy it got, but dreamed of vacationing here whenever the cold winter of Gotham got to him. Seriously thought of opening a safehouse in the city somewhere, just so he could make an excuse of a case in Europe and escape to Italy for a week. Let the sun and heat warm up his bones.

Now, he hated the city. Hated how it was unfamiliar and when he stumbled out of the alley, he had no freaking clue where he was. Didn’t even know which was way north, which was really stupid because that wouldn’t help him in the slightest even if he knew because Tim didn’t know where the hell he was in the city. Now he hated how hot and muggy it was and yet he still felt cold, hated how he could feel the stickiness of sweat along his hairline. His breaths came in faster and shallower, could feel his heartbeat staccatoing in his chest.

Help. He needed help. It was stupid to go out without his gear tonight. Stupid to go walking around Rome without his Red Robin gear, but he just wanted to be Tim for a night. Just wanted to explore the city a little bit, enjoy the old architect that was so different from Gotham and photograph buildings he’s never seen before.

Just wanted to celebrate having dismantled a serial killing cult and spend one last night in Rome before heading home.

Just didn’t think he’d stumble across one last surviving member of the cult sacrificing a young woman to their dark god. Didn’t think he’d have to fight for his life as a man/beast/shadow of a thing bore down on him with blades and knives. Didn’t think that when he twisted the thing’s arm beyond having broke it, it’d turn to him and laugh. Didn’t think it’d laugh in his terrified face and then a long claw would pierce under and through his ribs.

Didn’t think he’d be running through the dark alleys of Rome and desperately searching for help.

He tried his phone again, pressing the little button on the side that would send out a distress beacon. He was halfway across the world, but Batman would be able to get it, right? He’d be able to see that Tim was in trouble, and he’d come to the rescue right? Even if Bruce couldn’t get here in time, he’d call Superman or the Flash couldn’t he?

‘Superman,’ Tim realized suddenly, thinking himself very stupid. “Kon-el,” he rasped, growing suddenly wearier when he spoke,” Kon… Connor…help.” He prayed he would hear him, like Kon promised he would always hear Tim if he called out to him.

Then he remembered Kon was dead and a whine of despair escaped his throat.

…………………

Jason announced his presence with a bang and shouting, as always. He kicked the door to Bruce’s study open with all the force of a hurricane and stormed in. “I swear to God if this is another one your fucking convoluted plans to have another one of your Robins infiltrate a secret organization, I’ll rip your heart out through your-” he bellowed then fell silent once he got a look at Bruce.

He… he didn’t look good.

Bruce sat at his desk, supposedly going over the report that had been “acquired” from INTERPOL. Only… only he wasn’t reading. He wasn’t even looking at them. Bruce sat at his desk, head bowed and hands buried in his hair, gripping so tight his fingers had long gone white. His shoulders were trembling.

“It’s real, Jason,” he spoke in a ragged voice,” He’s really-” His mouth clacked shut with a click, unable to even speak it but somehow unable to even voice his grief with sobs.

Jason’s heart leapt up into his throat. “It’s not a…” he breathed in shock and disbelief,” You mean the replacement’s really-”

“He was not a replacement!” Bruce shouted at him with all the gentleness of a slap to the face. Shaking fingers slammed against the desk as he shot to his feet to scream at his second eldest. “Tim is my son just as much as you and Dick and Damian! He was not a replacement or a spare or a pretend son as I’ve heard you call him on more than one occasion! He was my son and now he’s dead and-” His face fell and Jason could see the cracks in his armor as Bruce all but fell back into his seat,” My son is dead and I didn’t even realize he was missing.”

………………….

Bruce was… Bruce was sure taking his damn time getting here, Tim thought as he staggered down the street. Or was it la via? Huh, he could’ve sworn he knew Italian, but at the moment Tim couldn’t remember any word in Italian to save his life. All he knew was there was cobbled stone beneath his feet and rough walls that scratched his palm as he made his way along.

There were no more lights in this area. Tim wondered why there were no streetlights, that had to be the only reason why it was so dark. It was late at night, he knew that, but why did it have to be so dark? Putting one foot in front of another was a monumental effort. Fingers scrambled along the wall until he felt what had to be a door. There was wood and metal, and yes, a handle.

A door. A door meant inside a building and inside meant people. Help. He had found help. Tim grasped the handle for a brief second before slamming his hand against the wood thrice. The sound echoed in the dark, but no voices answered him. It was late, it was night, maybe they didn’t hear him? He slammed his hand twice more. When no answer came, he tried the handle.

It was unlocked. Unlocked and open as he squeezed the handle and leaned his entire weight against the wood. He lurched inside, barely catching himself against the door before falling to the floor. It was dark inside but that was okay, it was late, it was night, they were probably asleep. “Help,” he called out, little more than a rasp,” Hello?”

He stepped forward and tripped over… something, and fell. There was carpet beneath his fingers as he tried to catch himself. An odd thing to notice as he tried to stand again, but that’s what he noticed. As well as how he didn’t have enough strength in his arm to push himself up. He felt so… weak. Weak and useless. Couldn’t even stand up from the floor. What would Damian think of him as he was now? What would Bruce think?

A sob escaping his throat, Tim rolled onto his side and pressed a hand against his stomach. It didn’t even hurt anymore, but there was a tiny voice in the back of his mind telling him ‘pressure, keep pressure on it’. He just had to keep pressure on it until help could get here. He just had to keep pressure on it until Bruce got here.

Tim laid on the floor and cried as he waited for someone to come.

[cozywritings]

Stitches ch 9: Christmas Tree Farm

Well guys, after the worlds longest wait, I’ve finally got this ready for you guys. I added in a special guest in this chapter, but don’t worry, he’s not here to break up our love birds, just here to help out when something goes wrong.

----------

Waking up at 6:00 in the mornig was not something you were really ready for, but the drive to the cabin was seven hours long, and Shawn said he’d rather start driving in the dark than finish in it. So after getting ready, you grabbed your bags, slipped your charger and birth control into your purse, put your pillow under your arm, and made your way to the hallway to meet up with everyone. 

“Good morning princess, you look cozy.” Shawn smiled, pulling you in for a hug and grabbing your suitcase. “I already put my stuff in the Jeep. Emily and Maddie left with Kyle and Jess, and Cheryl and Roni left after them. That way they could get into the cabin.” 

You nodded, yawning and rubbing your eyes. “Can we stop and get breakfast on the way? I really want a blueberry muffin and hot cocoa.” He laughed at your sleepiness and nodded, placing his hand on your lower back and leading you down to the car that was already running and warm. 

“So there’s a starbucks about twenty minutes down the road, can you wait until then or do you want me to stop at the one on campus before we leave?” He asked as you plugged in your phone and chose a softer playlist for the first hour or two.

Honestly you didn’y really care, so you just shrugged, “Well I’m not really hungry as soon as I wake up, so the further one? Is that okay?” you asked as you settled into the seat with your blanket and pillow in case you wanted to take a nap. You offered to take over at any time but Shawn said he’d much rather drive the whole way so you didn’t get nervous driving on the icy roads and he’s used to them. 

“I can wait baby, let’s get going shall we? Emily said that every couple is able to have their own room and they all have bathrooms, that means no one has to share or risk walking in.” he wiggled his eyebrows and you laughed, swatting at his shoulder and turning up the music.

---

You were now four hours into the drive, and you could tell Shawn was tired. His eyes were red from watching the road, his upper body was stiff and tense from sitting in the car, and he was yawning. “Baby are you sure you don’t want me to take over? You look really tired and I’m okay to drive, really. You look like you could use a break.” 

Shawn just smiled at you and shook his head. “No, really, it’s okay. I like the driving, it keeps me awake and if something happened to us on the ice, I don’t want you to blame yourself. Besides, we are over half way there now.” He let out another yawn, thumbs tapping along to the radio. “I just wanna get there and take a nice hot shower and eat and then crawl into bed with my girl.” you squealed as he pinched your thigh and he laughed.

---

Pulling up to Emily’s family cabin was like entering your own Hallmark movie. The driveway was long and had the other two cars already parked and dusted with snow. There were lights already hung around the edge of the roof, most likely there all year, and a large tree with a star on top. The house it’s self was three stories high, made of dark wood and you could see smoke from the chimney. “Oh wow. It’s a fucking winter wonderland.” You awed, you knew her family was well off, but not this well.

“I was hoping you’d like it.” Shawn smiled at you, you stared back in confusion.

“What do you mean? Did you plan this?” he just laughed and turned off the Jeep, leaning over to kiss your nose.

“Well after you fell asleep last night I was thinking about how you couldn’t go see your family and I know you really wanted to. So I texted Em about ideas and she said she was coming up here anyways and was going to ask you. Our plans just synced up perfectly.” He was smiling brightly at you as you shook your head in disbelief. 

Grabbing your blanket and pillow, you put yours and Shawn’s bags on your shoulders while Shawn grabbed the suitcases and you made your way to the cabin. The warm air instantly washed over you as you stepped inside, and you could smell the burning wood from the fire. “You guys finally made it!” Emily shouted from the second story, and she came running down to hug you.

“We made a stop to eat and pick up some heavier jackets.” Shawn said, closing the door and rubbing your arms to warm you up. “Where can we put our stuff? I wanna get into some warmer clothes.” He asked, Emily pointed to the second floor.

“The third door to the right, there’s a fireplace and a bathroom in there. All the rooms have them. This place used to be a luxury ski lodge, but the owner passed away and they sold it on the market for crazy cheap, so we bought it and did some renovations and now we use it for family gatherings and sometimes we put it on airbnb near the holidays, but this year it’s all for us. We can stay until spring semester starts if we want!”

Making your way to your bedroom for the next, however many weeks, you took time to look at the artwork on the walls, your eyes fell on the fur blanket on the end of the couch in the upstairs lounge area and silently prayed it wasn’t made of real fur. Shawn walked ahead of you, opening the door to your room and waiting for you. 

Walking in, you let out a gasp, the walls were a red cherry wood, the bed was huge and had a pile of blankets, and probably ten pillows. The fireplace was rock, with a pile of wood for you to use, and a tv mounted above it. This place was amazing and you couldn’t wait to spend christmas here

-----

“Kyle, can you hand me the box of ornaments please?” You asked, setting down your hot cocoa and dropping your blanket. It was almost midnight, Shawn, Veronica, and Jess had all gone to bed. But you and everyone else were too excited, and couldn’t wait to get all the christmas decorations up. So here you were, on a ladder, waiting to put on the top decorations of the 10 foot tall tree in the middle of the living room. 

Christmas was always your favorite time of year, the lights and the music always made you happy. Looking around at almost all of your favorite people dancing around and putting up Christmas decorations, your heart almost exploded. “Hey, should we finish this tonight or let the others join in the morning?” Maddie asked, wrapping tinsel around the banister.

“I mean, I’m wide awake so I’ll probably be up until morning. Might as well get as much done as possible.” Emily smiled and looked at her sleepy girlfriend. “Why don’t you go to bed sweetie, you look like you’re about to fall asleep on the stairs. You giggled and watched as she walked up to place a kiss to her head before walking her to their bedroom. They were so cute, and you were sure you and Shawn were like that as well.

----- 

It was almost 6am and you and Emily were still placing decorations around the cabin, everyone else had eventually gone to bed, but the two of were determined to have everyone wake up to a winter wonderland. The sun was barely peeking through the trees and casting a beautiful glow as you warmed up some water for hot chocolate.

You let out a squeal when someone wrapped their arms around you, but relaxed when you saw the tattoos. “Moring bubs, how’d you sleep?” you asked, handing Shawn a mug and leaning against his chest.

“Would’ve slept better if you’d actually came to bed, but I can see you were quite busy.”he mumbled, his voice rough from sleep. “The place looks beautiful though, byt not as beautiful as you.” you smiled as he placed a kiss to your shoulder and watched you make your cocoa.

Emily yawned and mumbled something about going to bed, so you waved at her and made your way to the couch to watch a movie. “Christmas is my favorite holiday, so I got excited and we stayed up all night putting up the decorations.” you smiled, cuddling under a blanket and wrapping your hands around the warm mug.

Shaw sat next to you, a cup of coffee in his hands, and looked around at the cabin. “Well everyone did an amazing job, but I think the tree looks the best.” he smiled and you looked over at him in shock.

“How did you know that I did the tree?” you asked, laying your legs across his and sipping your drink.

He just smiled at it and pointed at the limbs. “Because you always place complimentary colors together, you don’t let the same colors near each other, and there’s a fair amount of golden ornaments on there and I know that’s your favorite because all your jewllery is gold.” 

Your mouth dropped open at his explanation and you just stared at him. No one had ever paid that much attention to your habits. “Emily said that there’s a place in town that does glass blowing and you can custom make your own ornaments. We were talking about making a trip to town later for some present shopping.” you grinned up at him, hoping he’d hint at something he’d like for Christmas.

“That sounds great but, maybe I could take you? You know, as a date?” he smiled, rubbing your back. You nodded and curled into his side, careful to not spill your drink. But Shawn had other ideas, grabbing your mug and setting it on the table. Before you could protest, he wrapped his arms around you. “I think you, pretty girl, have earned a nap.” 

He was right, you hadn’t slept since you got to the cabin, so you made yourself comfortable and closed your eyes, letting the warmth from the fireplace and your boyfriend lull you to sleep.

-----

“Babe come look at this!” you shouted, pointing at the carraige ride set up on front of a store. “He’s got a wreath around his neck, oh! There’s even lights, it looks like something from a disney movie.” you gushed as Shawn walked up to you, handing you a steaming cup of cider. “Oh, thank you.”

You two atood there for a few more seconds before Shawn kissed your cheek. “Does the princess want a ride?” he asked and waved his hand out to motion to the horse. You nodded quickly, dragging him towards the lady selling tickets.

“Two please.” Shawn smiled, wrapping his arm around you. The lady smiled as she took his card and handed it back, along with two tickets to the carraige ride. “Thank you so much.” She nodded, smiling at the two of you as you made your way to the ride.

Now settled in the carraige, a warm blanket over your legs, you leaned in for a kiss. “Today was a amazing bub, thank you.” You spoke against his lips as the horse took off. “I’ve never been on a carriage ride before, or really even seen snow before.” He smiled down at you, eyes bright.

“Well I’m glad you’ve had a good day baby.” the two of you shared a few more kisses before turning to enjoy the scenery and look around the small town. Everything was like a Hallmark movie, from the snow to the lights, to the carriage ride you were currently on. This may be your best Christmas to date, even though you couldn’t be home for it.

-----

Christmas morning, everyone was awake before the sun was up and piled into the living room. “Merry Christmas my lovelies!” Cheryl shouted as she handed out gifts to everyone. It was a mutual decision that everyone got one gift for everybody, but when it came to your significant other, that was up to you. 

“Here Kyle, I forgot to wrap yours.” Shawn laughed, handing him the new golf balls and custom tees he’d gotten yesterday. He smiled, eyes wide since he’d only mentioned his love for golf to Shawn once, at the Fasion department dinner. Again, you noticed his observance of everyone.

Everyone opened their gifts excitedly, Cheryl loved the new vintage bag you got her, that’s the gift you were most excited about since she recently broke the zipper on her old bag and you found one from the same brand at an upper scale thrift shop, it was really more of an outlet, everything brand new, but from the previous season. Maddie was obsessed with the silk scarf you’d gotten her from the same shop, it’d where you found everyone’s gifts. Everyone’s but Shawn’s, his where a little more special. 

“Babe, open yours.” Shawn smiled, taking your mug from you. You looked at all the gifts, deciding to open the one’s from Shawn last, so you grabbed a small bag from Roniei. Inside was a metal jewelry box shaped like a butterfly, the inside lined with soft blue velvet. “Oh Ronie, this is beautiful, you know how much I love butterflies.” 

She beamed at you from her place on an ottoman, Cheryl on the floor by her feet. “Open mine next!” Cheryl clapped, her perfectly manicured nails shining in the lights from the tree. So you grabbed her’s, opening the box to see a pair of golden butterfly earrings and a matching ring. “Cher! These are stunning, oh my god you guys.” You were almost crying and you still had at least four more gifts to open. 

Kyle’s gift was next, it was a set of posters of sketches and the reference photos for Hayley Paige dresses. You told him you loved the way she designed her wedding dresses and you wanted to get married in one. The posters were for the dresses you loved the most, and considering the two of yu talked about her a lot, he knew exactly which ones those were. Jess had gotten you the new sturbucks cup with the glitter logo, Maddie got you a sketch pad and brand new pencils since you mentioned that you also liked to design your own items from time to time. And from Emily, you’d received a new white backpack with your name on it. Her mom made them, everyone got one from her and they were all perfect for each person.

When you reached for the three gifts from Shawn, he grabbed them from you. “They uh, they have to be opened in a specific order.” he explained, handing you the biggest one first, it was also the heaviest. You looked at him as you pulled back the paper, revealing a light pink weighted blanket. “It’s good to help you relax at night and it helps your anxiety, You know, just in case I’m not there when you have an attack and you can’t find one of these guys to help,” he motioned to everyone around the room. “It’s also from your parents as well. We all pitched in your this one.”

You smiled at him, fingers running over the soft fabric of the blanket. He rubbed your calf as he handed you another box “This one is just from me. He stated as you opened the gift. Inside was a pair of diamond earrings set in rose gold and a necklace with an “S” that matched. “I know you thought it was cute when we had that High School Muscial marathon, so I got you one too.” he grinned, proud of his gift.

“This is it beautiful Shawn, and now I have a pair of earrings for my second holes! So that way I can wear both new pairs of earrings.” He nodded, looking over at Ronie, knowing they’d planned it that way. “Can I open my last present now? I want you to open your’s.” He nodded, handing you the last bag, it was heavy for it’s size. 

He watched intently as you pulled the tissue paper out, everyone in the room stared at you like they were waiting for you reaction. Looking into the bag you saw a few rolled up shirts, but something about them looked familiar. Pulling out a blue one and watching it unroll you looked at the logo “Pelican Marina Kildare Island” it said, a white on in the bag said the same thing, you let out a gasp as you pulled out a navy blue bandana. “You fucking didn’t!” You looked up at Shawn.

“Look at the white one honey.” he smiled, pulling it out of the bag. Everyone just stared in confusion as you freaked out over shirts that were too big for you.

Taking it into your hands you noticed black markings on the shirt in sharpie. “Is… is that a note, from…” You were unable to form words as you stares down at the shirt, “Remeber, deny, deny, deny. And always call housekeeping. Love Rudy.” written across the front of the garment.

“What is that?” Emily asked, still confused as to why you were absolutely losing it over a bag of ratty looking clothing. 

Shawn laughed, “They are from this Netflix show she loves, Outer Banks. Her favorite character wore them, I have a friend that works in the industry and he got them from the set and Rudy Pankow, the actor signed them for her.” They all nodded and went back to talking amongst themselves. “Hey babe,” he nudged your foot, “Check the envelope.” he whispered and  you furrowed your brows, not noticing one until you looked at the bottom of the bag. He obviously meant for that to be seen by just you.

Pulling it out, you read it while Shawn started to open his gifts. “Your boyfriend got in contact with me about how our show helped you during a tough time, I am so sorry all those things happened to you, and you have to suffer through the aftermath. However, he really cares about you and just know that you are not alone. Please accept these shirts that I wore as JJ as a way to remind yourself to stay strong, like him. If you ever need anything or feel like you have no one to talk to, please do not hesitate to reach out! You have a beautiful soul and I’d hate to hear one of our watchers is hurting. Xx Rudy.” his phone number written on the bottom.

You looked over at Shawn who was looking at a set of scrubs from Cheryl and placed your hand on his back. “Thank you.” you whispered. He smiled at you and pulled you to him, kissing your head and mumbling an “I love you so much.” before opening the rest of this presents.

When he got to yours, he was giddy. You refused to give him any hints, but talked about how excited you were him to get them. There were two if them, he picked the smaller one first. You sat up straight, watching his face as he opened it. He let out a gasp at the blue stethoscope, a cursive S.M engraved into the metal. “For when you’re all doctor-y and stuff.” you giggled. “Look at the ear pieces.” you encouraged. “I love you.” was also etched into the instrument in yout hand writing.

“Oh baby I love it. I can’t wait to be able to use this!” He smiled, placing it around his neck and kissing your cheek. Grabbing his last gift, you bounced lightly, your excitement getting the best of you. You don’t really know why, it was actually a pretty stupid gift, but for some reason you loved it. Opening the box he smiled and let out a laugh, exactly the reaction you were hoping for. Inside the box was a new set of drawers that you’d labeled and filled with their respective items.

“What the fuck.” Kyle laughed as Shawn pulled out the small storage unit. It was clear with four drawers. One for notes and flashcards, one for his pencils and other stationary stuff, one for his medical things like the stethoscope you just gave him, and the bottom one for snacks.

Shawn smiled, “The one in my room is falling apart and very low on everything. This is actually kinda perfect.” he smiled, watching you bounce at his reaction.

-----

Back at the dorms, spring classes starting in a few days, Shawn helped you unpack all your things from your month up in the mountains. Everyone stayed up until the last minute. New Year’s Eve was spent at the lodge with everyone and some champagne. Honestly, you couldn’t have asked for a better Christmas. 

“Hey babe, I have something I’ve gotta talk to you about. Can you come here for a minute?” Shawn asked, sitting on your bed. You nodded, setting your stuff on the bathroom counter and sitting on his lap. “Before we left for the lodge, I can a call from my sister that a good friend of mine back home, James, is really sick. He’s not doing very well, and asked if I could come visit for a while.” You watched his face as he spoke, grabbing his hands and rubbing along his knuckles gently. “Well he didn’t get any better and they don’t really know if he’s gonna make it and I really want and need to go up and see him in case he doesn’t pull through. So im gonna leave Tuesday and say there for about a week, I’ve already cleared it with the university. I just wanted you to know. It’s another reason I contacted my friend to talk to Rudy. While I’m there I’m gonna be focused on him and spending time with him, but I wanted to make sure you were taken take of in case you started having attacks.”

You looked at him and pulled him to you, kissing his head. “Baby I understand, I’m really sorry about your friend. I really hope he pulls through, and with you there I’m sure he will. You have a healing energy to you that goes further than your medical education.” He nodded and wrapped his arms around your waist. “If you need anything, let me know bubs. This comfort thing goes both ways here.” He smiled against you skin and pulled back to look at you.

“I love you so much. I’ll try to keep in contact with you as much as I can while I’m back home, and I really can’t wait to tell him and my family all about you.” You blushed, leaning in for a kiss.

“Don’t worry about me babe, focus on James and your family. You said so yourself, you set in a plan in case I needed someone. I’ll be okay.”

-----

You were definitely not okay. Shawn had left four days ago, saying it would be about another week before he returned, and here you were on the carpet of your dorm room trying to breathe. Nothing had really even happened, but the voices in your head were telling you that you weren’t good enough for this school and this profession and the love you were receiving from Shawn and your friends. You didn’t want to bother anyone in the middle of the night since all your friends were learning the ins and outs of their classes.

So you called the only person you could think of. “Hello?” He asked as he answered. He knew it was you, you’d been texting him all week, and after initial shock of talking to the man you watch on your tv, you actually started to become friends. “Hey, you okay?” his voice concerned at your hyperventilating on your end of the phone. 

“Rudy? Can- can you tell me about what you did tod-today?” you hiccuped, wrapping the weighted blanket around yourself, it still had Shawn’s scent on it. “Or anything really.” You shook on the floor, listening Rudy talk about going to the beach and surfing.

After a few more minutes of listening to him, you were still freaking out, unable to block out the feeling you had. “Hey, I uh, I am in the L.A area, if you want to do something, so you’re not alone.” He suggested, and you shrugged. “How about we go to the beach?”

You thought about it for a while, “Yeah, okay. Maybe it’ll be good to get some fresh air.” You nodded, wiping your face and standing up.”

“Text me your dorm and I’ll pick you up. We can get food too.” He said and hung up. You quickly put on a swimsuit and a pair a jeans, slipping into one of Shawn’s shirts and wiping your face. It’s not like you wanted to look perfect for him, you really didn’t have the energy, but this was the first time he’d be seeing you and you didn’t want him to see how hard today had come down on you. 

When you heard a knock on your door, you turned off your tv and make your way to the sound. As soon as you opened the door you were engulfed in a hug, ay first you were shocked, but you assumed he wanted you to know he was there for you. “Hey there, you okay?” he asked and pulled away, sure you’d seen him on tv and on the one facetime call you had, but seeing him in front of you was different. You’d never think about leaving Shawn, but you had to admit Rudy was good looking. 

“Yeah, I’m really drained and honestly I’m still in the middle of an episode, but I think getting out might help.” He nodded, rubbing your back and looking at your swollen face. You felt really comfortable around him. 

“You ready to go?” he asked and you nodded, grabbing your bag and locking your door. “I’m really sorry the first time we met you don’t feel great. Shawn’s friend told me all about you and what happened, and I really am sorry about it all. I really felt for you, I know a few other people that’s been through that as well.” You sniffled, looking around the parking lot, not sure what car was his. “I parked over here.” he smiled, opening the door to a Hummer. “It’s my rental for the next few weeks.” he explained.

You nodded, smiling at The 1975 on the radio. “I really like this song.” you mumbled and he turned it up, telling you he liked them as well. The ride was really fun, he played a lot of good music.

“So, do you want something to eat? I didn’t know if you got hungry after attacks, I know some people do and some puke at the thought of food.” You nodded, giggling a little as your stomach growled. “Sonic mozzarella sticks and fries?” he asked and you stared at him. “When you called I texted Shawn, he said that’s your favorite thing. You smiled at the mention of your boyfriend and he noticed, placing a hand on yours in a comforting way. “He knows you didn’t want to worry him while he’s home, but I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

Sitting on the beach with Rudy was really relaxing, you two just talked and you asked him about filming. He asked you about fashion and told you that if you didn’t get the internship with Calvin Klein he’d put in a word at the studio for you for set styling. “So, what exactly happened?” he asked, referring to the reason you called him at midnight. 

“Well my ex actually goes to school here and when Shawn is here I can stay calm and feel safe, but with him gone I guess my safety net and strength went with him.” He pulled you into another hug and rubbed your arm gently.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had to see him on a regular basis. That sounds really tough, but hey, you’ve got me know. This isn’t some charity case or something, I really care about you and I really think we could be good friends. If you need me at all while Shawn is gone or, obviously even when he gets back, just call. I’d really like to hang out with you when you’re feeling better too.”

You stayed there until you felt better, and were ready to go to bed. “Thanks again for coming to my rescue.” you said as you stood outside your door. He smiled and gave you one last hug, you assume Shawn told him the physical contact helped you, or maybe he just knew.

“Of course! Text me in the morning okay? Sleep well, I hope you feel better.” he said before getting back into the car and driving off after you’d made it safely inside. You really were grateful for Shawn and Rudy, but you didn’t want to sleep alone, so you did the best thing you could think of. You grabbed your key to Shawn’s room and slipped inside. You instantly decided to take a shower so you could use his shampoo before you crewled into him bed and inhaled his scent on the sheets. You couldn’t wait for Shawn to get back.

[iphoenixrising]

Merry Christmas, Timmy

hi babes. For those of you that don’t celebrate, I still hope you are wonderful wherever you are. Kiddo was with her dad last night, so I was all by myself, got a little sad, and thought of this little thing for the holidays. I’ve done angsty ones before (like this one), but I won’t break your heart with it <3

**

And the softly falling snow flutters around Gotham, painting the city in a semblance of joy. Christmas lights on buildings and store fronts, a decorated tree in Robinson Square, all signals the city is feeling the good cheer.

Christmas Eve and all is calm. 

Except for the vigilante standing at the top of the Wallstone Apartments, grapple in one hand, planning his next jump while the snow piles on his shoulders, and the glinting lights sparkle off his harness in the night.

The muted comm in his ear is silent, no witty banter back-and-forth or calm, cool orders, no sounds of flying over the skyline or fights breaking out against the criminals. It’s as quiet as the city itself. 

He hadn’t expected any different, knowing the patrol roster would be empty. The Bats would be at the Manor for hours already, eating and celebrating the holiday, taking a well-deserved night off unless something awful happened, and major crime took them away from the warmth and laughter.

And even if he isn’t part of it all anymore, not since he’d brought back the OG Batman from time, even if he didn’t wear the R in front of his heart like a brand, even if he’d been gone long enough to get the point, that maybe he’d only been the stand-in all along, Red Robin is still determined to keep moving and make damn sure there would be no reason to disturb their family gathering tonight.

The pain in his chest at being the last one left standing had waned in the last year, enough that he could be in the city without it being such fucking agony. It’s easier to stand at his old haunt with nostalgia dogging his steps, looking out for the same hidden niches and fire escapes sturdy enough to hold his weight. It’s easier to stay out of the way when he’s back, to run Wayne Enterprises without getting in Bruce’s sight, to patrol the outskirts and gaps away from the family, to keep his comm on mute, to keep his penthouse Perch his main haven instead of coming back to the Cave or the Manor or the Bunker and pushing himself into their lives where he probably never should have been in the first place. 

It’s easier...for everyone.

It’s easier not to make waves but to just bow out gracefully and work on the backend instead. So, yesterday, he’d bid his teammates at Titan’s Tower good-bye as they all left to go to their families for Christmas, and he boarded a plane back to Gotham with every intention of keeping the city safe while the protectors got their time to celebrate.

And the crisp, cold air is hard on his lungs after thwarting the first of three escape attempts from Arkham, bruised to the bone from some pretty good fights along the way. A few hours before dawn and he could go back to his Perch, check his injuries from the last tussle with his team to make sure he isn’t approaching an infection, and pass out for the first time in over sixty hours.

Renee Montoya, as it happens, is also on patrol, and flags him down with a full cup of coffee, grinning at his whiteouts, pulling the collar of her jacket up while they talk about the few B&Es he’d already hit. 

A swing to the soup kitchen and further to the homeless shelter. Skimming along the roof of the crooked pawn shop in the Narrows and down to the usual hangout for a few of the lesser gangs, flaring the cape out to be obvious, sending the message someone is out tonight, and a beating might not be the best present for the morning. 

An alarm raised at Blackgate, and he’s riding the Ducati at breakneck speed, jaw tight against the bitter cold, ignoring the numbing in his legs and fingers. 

It’s no shock someone as smart as Falcone would have his minions try to bust him out when the guard duty is light for the holidays. 

He shoves one out of the way of a hail of bullets, his armor taking most of the damage, and his thigh taking another in a bout of stupidly bad luck. He brings them down fast enough to keep the fighting to a minimum and as many guards safe as possible. 

He stays long enough to zip tie the cranky ones, waits for the red and blue lights, the scream of sirens signalling back-up is on the way.

The ride back to town is hazy because he didn’t get the tourniquet on fast enough and blood paints a nasty wreath-like shape in the snow.

The Ducati coasts to a shadowy alleyway a few block from his Perch, and he falls off, drags himself behind a dumpster for a breather. Midnight chimes across the city, a Merry Christmas to go with his blood loss.

And when he’s finally caught his breath enough to stand with the whitehot pain in the meat of his thigh starting to be a problem, his ear cracks to life, hazy in his brainpan.

“Can’t trace him. He doesn’t have trackers in his suit.” “What the fuck ya talkin’ ‘bout, O?” “We will absolutely address that later, Hood. For now, we have priorities.”

He laughs off his insane imagination and manages to get to his feet. He hobbles to the Ducati, pushes it behind the dumpster, out of sight, and makes a note to get it in the morning.

The grapple is slippery in his hand, and he fumbles a little on the way up, not realizing it’s because his glove is bloody and not conducive to any kind of a good grip. No running this time, just hobbling his way two rooftops over and he’s home free.

Wavery, he doesn’t fall when Nightwing and the Red Hood land it on either side of him, but damn if it isn’t a close thing.

“Finally!” “Fer fuck’s sake, Red. Ya couldn’ta bother callin’ er some shit?”

Which throws him for an important second because what the hell are they even doing out?

The step away is automatic, stepping back from the vigilantes that, in their own ways, tried to kill him. Jason, at least, didn’t try to hide the intent.

Slowly, N raises a hand, “easy, Red. It’s okay now, we’re–” “Go home,” is all he can think to say. “Go back to your family. I’ve already taken care of the city tonight.” And turns his back on them both with copper in his mouth and the pain in his chest more acute than the one throbbing in his leg.

But the tall, imposing shadow right behind him manages to stop his thought processes because of all things, he sure as hell didn’t expect this.

“The guard at Blackgate reported you could have been hit,” Robin takes a step away from Batman’s side, a hand flying out to sweep the cape back, the reinforced tights stained even in the dim. “It seems he was correct.”

Penned in on all sides, B and Robin, N and Hood, all of them closing in on him.

“Is the bullet still in?” Hand on his shoulder and fuck is it familiar. “Why the hell didn’t cha call fer back-up?!” “We need to get him home. Now.” “Do not strain it, Drake. It may have hit an artery.”

Pulling out of Batman’s hold is not something he can remember doing before tonight, and it’s easier said than done. The hand tightens down for a second before Red makes another try, lunging back to keep them all in his sight.

The vigilantes around him go quiet, all those whiteouts fixed.

“Go home. I came out tonight so the Bats could enjoy Christmas. Arkham’s been secured and so has Blackgate.” He grips his thigh, tightens his hand so the pain helps clear his head a little.

Hood holds up both hand, palms out in the I come in peace that really has no place between them. 

(Really, what’s a slit throat and bat-a-rang in the chest between enemies?)

And Nightwing still has a hand out toward him, takes a careful, easy step. But the Batman? He gives absolute no fucks about what his middle son is spewing, just strides up, moves fast and furious enough to have Red Robin up in his arms, tight against the yellow insignia on his chest, turns in a flare of cape, and dives off the roof.

“What the fuck–?!”

The Batmobile slides open silently, and B falls right in the driver’s seat without a ruffle, slams the button to start the massive engine, an arm around Red’s to keep the younger vigilante against his chest, in his lap, held securely. Robin lifts the legs off his seat and joins them.

The Dynamic Duo ignore the pointed, “wait!” as the hatch slides back in place and the car takes off down the silent, snowy street.

Robin reaches to adjust the tourniquet, a quiet, “hold your breath, this shall not be...pleasant.”

B’s hand moves to grip his shoulder while the other pilots the big car, pulling Red Robin deeper into his body, trying to shield him in some crazy way that seems too much, too fucking much, to be real.

The adjustment takes him by surprise, the abruptness of it, of them, of this, taking him completely–

out.

Which is how the Batman leaps out of the Batmobile, with Tim limp and loose in his arms, Damian following on his heels with quicker steps.

“My word,” Alfred turns away from setting up coffee, a hopeful gesture for Master Tim’s sake. 

“That’s not what I hoped for,” Stephanie is out of the computer chair in a heartbeat, her ugly Christmas sweater still lighting up since Dick and Jay said there wouldn’t be a need for anyone else to suit up tonight. She and Cass elected to stay behind and keep Alfred company while they boys went to collect their wayward Robin. 

Cass moves silently past, already throwing the screen back to the medical bay, her eyes narrowed on the swaying arm and tights darkened with blood.

The echo of Ducatis hits as Alfred scrubs his hands, gloves up, and Steph helps Bruce maneuver around the traps in Tim’s suit. 

It’s all hands on deck with Cass and Dami helping to ready supplies, stripping off pieces of the suit when they can. 

Dick tosses his gloves and gauntlets the minute they throw themselves off the bikes, Jay dropping the helmet at his workstation on the way. 

By the computer, Barbara keeps searching, her likewise ugly Christmas sweater a tacky Riddler dancing with the tastefully done rhyme: Jingle Bells, Batman smells! Robin laid an egg. The Batmobile lost it’s wheel is absolutely perfect for the night.  

Until she digs around to see what Red Robin has been in to since his plane hit Gotham, then goes a little further to see what’s been on the Titan’s roster the last few weeks.

The report is grim, and she gives it with a hard tone as Duke comes into the medical bay with a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, frowning over bullet fragments pinging in a metal tray.

“By his damn self?” Because Jay feels it bares repeating. “By himself,” Barbara confirms, wheeling cautiously around to reach through the bodies and squeeze the unmoving hand. 

The bruises and contusions make the point, drive home some very hard to believe things as the Bats take him in to the skin. The new scars aren’t in his medical report, and B shoves back the cowl, eyes moving to memorize each one, already planning how he’s going to ease Tim in to talking about them all.

Dick runs a bare hand through Tim’s hair while Jay puts in an IV, Damian grips a bare ankle, his expression grim. Cass winds an arm around Steph’s waist to ground her, watches her best friend blink back tears and hold a hand to her mouth in disbelief. Duke stands with arms folded over his chest, looks for any indication he can jump in and help.

In a few hours, everyone is in pajamas, in various stages of passed out around the couch when Tim comes to slowly, strangely warm for being out in the middle of Gotham on Christmas Eve.

(What the fuck?)

He catches his breath when the ceiling above is one he recognizes all too painfully. He doesn’t even get the chance to move to sit up, to try maneuvering around all the bodies splayed in his favorite sitting room in Wayne Manor because Bruce is someone with an instinct that flares when one of his Robins is obviously in need. 

He’s awake, completely alert before Tim’s hand moves the blanket off enough to try getting free over the back of the couch and out.

“Thank God,” and Bruce’s expression is so awfully, terribly relieved, Tim has to look away or be reduced to that teenage kid, shoving himself in their lives trying to save this man from himself. 

And since, well Batman, Bruce is up on the couch just that fast, holding Tim in his lap, against his chest, rocking him gently back and forth, arms tight. 

“I’ve been so worried about you,” breathed against his too long hair, “when you wouldn’t come home, wouldn’t come back. I thought...it doesn’t matter what I thought, but you’re home and we’re going to take care of you.”

“N-no, I can’t...I shouldn’t be here. I– you should have let me go, I don’t...I’m not–” but his voice wavers when those arms lock down, keep him from wiggling away.

“Yes, yes, you should be here. Right here with us where you belong. No more running, Tim. I’m not letting you go back to Titan’s Tower until you tell me everything. We’re going to solve cases and update your files and talk about what a pain in your ass the team is. We’re going to go to WE together next time and text each other in board meetings to keep from falling asleep. You’re going to patrol with me and Dick and Damian until you remember this is your home too.”

And Bruce only lets up enough to pull the blanket up to Tim’s shoulders, rocks them both gently while his other children sleep on.

“Bruce,” is watery and lost, is so many things that make his heart ache painfully. 

“I know, well, at least some of it,” he huffs against the top of his son’s messy bedhead, “but this? You coming back? This is my Christmas Miracle, Tim.” 

A big hand loosens enough to rub soothing circles on his back, feeling the tremble that go through Tim’s body that has nothing to do with the hole in his leg. But it’s fine because he’ll sit here all day and into the night, just like this if he needs to, will keep his middle son in place if it keeps Tim from running back to the Titans, to give him the evidence he needs to see. 

(How much they need him.)

He holds on and soothes while the tree in front of him blinks brightly and the presents below wait for the excitement of his sleeping kids to wake up and rip them open. And strewn around the base, packages and packages marked Tim and Timmy and Drake and Pain in the ass and Boy Wonder and Master Tim all from the last two years without their third Robin are waiting to be piled up in his lap and spill out on the couch beside him. Are waiting for him as patiently as all the sleeping bodies have been. Waiting for him to come home, waiting for him to finally, finally come back.

By the time Alfred comes in with a tray of coffee, hoping to see their missing member awake without trying to leave, Tim is laying exhausted against Bruce’s chest, the two talking softly.

“I just...I–” “I know, kiddo, I’m sorry you ever thought that.” “B...” “It’s okay. We’ll work it out, we’ll work together to make it better for you. Don’t give up on me, Tim.” “Like that’s ever going to happen? The rest of the world thought you were dead, you know.”

Seeing the look on Master Tim’s face when he takes the first sip of coffee is intensely gratifying, watching him devour the omelette (tomatoes and spinach, still his favorite of course) before Alfred’s other charges are awake sets a bit of starch in his spine because the young man is woefully under weight. Another omelette is certainly in order.

Dick barely blinks his eyes open before he’s latching on to his little brother with his own octopus hold engaged, and refuses to relinquish the bird while the others start waking up to gather around him. 

Tears are shed and the hugs are so tight, laughter following on the edges. Gifts are piled and the attention is set on him as he slowly opens them, blinking back so his eyes don’t spill over.

And he gets to have this warmth in the niche of Dick’s lap with hands desperately holding on, grounding him here in the Manor instead of in the silent Tower or his empty Perch. 

He gets Dami gingerly handing him a wrapped package that’s a book of sketches, him in his red and black, him with a grin and domino, him with an arm around Kon and Bart, him and Dick on patrol, him and B walking to the open Batmobile, ready to take on the night. He gets a serious lecture on the statistics of sepsis and a finger wagging in his face that Dami will not tolerate his family being in such danger, Drake, and yes, that includes you.

He gets Steph holding his hand too tight, her eyes watery and lower lip trembling with whatever she’d seen while he was riding the unconscious train, and Cass rubbing his scalp with her free hand and smiling that same gentle smile from that time she came for him in the fight against Ra’s crazy ass sister.

He gets Jason Todd putting a fresh cup of coffee in his hand and a soft half-smile that seems to tell a story he’d never thought he’d live long enough to hear, and Babs treating him the same as always, going on about the new Ransomware she’d planted in Lonnie’s systems just for a hoot.

He gets to low-five Duke when the guy helps get some of the intense attention away, steering most of them back to the tree to help hand out gifts and get spots cleared so Alfred can bring in food with Jay helping so the butler can catch a seat and accept brightly wrapped packages. 

And the day moves into afternoon, terrible Hallmark Christmas movies turn into awful 80′s action movies with Christmas themes (Jason making fun of Lethal Weapon is literally the best thing he’s ever seen), and it’s strange to see someone waiting for him in the hall anytime he’s had to use the bathroom, or hobbles upstairs to change clothes.

(He never suspected he’d still have a room, a place, a workstation, a set of clothes that fit. Never suspected any of this to be waiting, thought these days were long gone and acceptance was the road better taken.)

A chorus of hell no’s! and Dick literally wrapping him up in a stifling hold keeps him in for the night when he follows in the back of the group down to the Cave and picks up his suit, assesses the damage briefly but starts to wrap his wrists anyhow.

Jason is the one to take the tape out of his hand around Dick’s crushing denial, and another finger wagging in his face with some nu-uh Timmers. That shit ain’t gonna happen, feel me? on the side.

Alfred caps it all off, mildly remarking how Master Tim would absolutely be able to work comms in their absence since someone of the household would need to clean-up the mess upstairs since he apparently isn’t getting any younger.

So he finds himself plunked down in the chair by the big computer, O grinning next to him on her laptop, warming up her system to plug into the criminal side of Gotham and get their night started right.

And this chain of events might not be what he imaged a few hours, a few days, a few weeks ago when memories of the Manor hit him in his roughest moments, gave him a bit of strength to keep moving, but it may just be the evidence he needs to also believe in Christmas miracles.

[ificanthaveu]

Holiday Cups || Shawn Mendes

Description: Holiday working at a Starbucks could quite possibly be the worst thing to ever happen to you, especially when you’re tasked with decorating the store with the shift manager who couldn’t get enough of annoying you: Shawn.

Description per my notes (aka jumped, also this is my fave I love myself for this one): STARBUCKS HOLIDAY AU YES BABY YES

A/N: hi it’s me Dani your local former Starbucks barista aka the worst 3 months of my life aha anyway this idea came outta nowhere but I've never seen anyone do it and we all know I'm a hoe for Starbucks and holidays so enjoy :)

Word Count: 2.4k

12 Days of Ficmas

If you could describe your personal hell in one sentence, it’d be easy: working at Starbuck’s during the holiday season.

You loved your job, and it’s what got the bills paid while you went to school. So, for now, you’d deal with the 4:00 am opening shifts, people complaining about their drinks and cleaning until your hands burned (which, let’s be honest, they were probably burned from something you spilled earlier anyway).

It was a few weeks before Christmas and the biggest store change of the year. The typical green menu signs got switched to cheerful red ones, and the white cups were switched out for the ones adorned with red and green. 

Out of the few years you worked here, you never had to work the closing shift of the day this all had to be changed.

Until now.

When your schedule was sent to you, you felt your heart drop to your feet. You had an 8:00 am class that next day, and you knew that you wouldn’t get out of work until well after midnight. 

And to make it even worse, you were scheduled with the shift manager that seemed to want to make your life a living hell. 

Shawn.

So, when you arrived that day, you plastered a smile on your face and dealt with it. It’d be over before you knew it. 

“[Y/N], nice of you to finally show up. Go find the boxes we’ll need for tonight,” Shawn barked as he slid a croissant into the oven.

“Hello to you too, Shawn. I’m not late, in fact, I’m five minutes early,” you said with a sickeningly sweet voice. 

You glared at you and was about to say something rude when his headset beeped. He swiveled the mouthpiece and turned on his charm as his retail voice came booming through the headset. 

“Welcome to Starbucks, what can I get started for you on this beautiful day?” He said with a cheery tone and a frown still plastered on his face.

You shook your head as you walked past him to gather the multiple boxes full of decorations and supplies that they had sent over for the store change. You stacked them all neatly by the back door in order of what you had to get done first. You triple checked the list and tried not to groan out loud when you saw all the things you had to get done. This place had to look like a winter wonderland before 5:00 am tomorrow morning. 

You took a deep breath and went to the sink to start working on dishes because the sooner those were done, the sooner you could close down the store and start the changes. 

Shawn whisked in and out of the back, piling up more and more dishes. You breathed slowly and continued washing as quickly and thoroughly as you could. Eventually, the pile dwindled down, and the clock struck 10:00.

You dried your hands as you walked out to the front of the store while Shawn locked the front doors. 

“Bring the boxes out. I’m going to close down the register,” he said quickly.

You nodded and walked back to start bringing the boxes into the lobby of the store while you heard the clinking of the change as Shawn counted it. 

You set the last box down and leaned against the wall, waiting for Shawn to finish. He looked up at you for a moment before typing a few things in the register and shutting the drawer. 

“Alright, I’ll change out the cups while you switch the signs,” Shawn said as he rounded the counter to look through the boxes. “What’s in what box?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, expecting you to not know.

“I labeled them all on top,” you said with a smile as you tapped a finger on top of the nearest box where you had written what was inside. 

“Oh,” Shawn said as he looked at the writing on top, letting him know ornaments were in this one. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Never heard you say that before,” you said almost under your breath as you grabbed the tall box that contained the signs.

He turned around and watched you walk around the corner before you climbed onto the counter to pull out the old signs. 

“I say thanks all the time,” he said defensively. 

You scoffed, “Yeah, right.”

He crossed his arms across his chest with a displeased look written on his face.

You glanced back at him as you set the sign down. 

“Are you just going sit there and stare at me or start actually doing something?” You said. “I don’t want to be here all night.”

He didn’t say another word as he hauled the box of cups onto the counter and started pulling out the old cups, throwing them in bags and putting in the new ones. 

Silence settles between you two as all you could hear was the shuffling of cups and signs. You hopped off the counter, collected the old signs and put them in the box before bringing it in the back where all the other signs were kept. By the time you got back, Shawn was looking at the list and writing things in the margins. 

“Ok, let’s get this place looking like a winter wonderland,” he grumbled as he opened up the box that contained the fake Christmas tree.

“Cheer up, Scrooge,” you said as you held the box down and Shawn tugged the tree out. 

“No offense, but this is the last place I want to be right now,” Shawn said as he positioned the tree into its stand. 

“That makes two of us,” you responded. “I have an 8:00 am class tomorrow.”

“I was supposed to be singing at that art thing they’re having downtown,” Shawn said quietly. 

“You sing?” You asked as you handed him the lights to wrap the tree. 

He nodded his head, “Yeah, but here I am. Living the dream at Starbucks.”

“Is that what you want to do?” You asked him. 

“Work at Starbucks for the rest of my life? Hell no,” he responded quickly. 

“I meant the singing,” you clarified with an eye roll. 

“Oh, yeah, but it’s pretty unrealistic,” he said. 

“But you were going to perform at that art thing? That’s pretty hard to get into.”

He shrugged his shoulder as a soft blush spread across his cheeks. 

“What about you? Starbucks forever?” He turned the question back at you. 

“Hell no,” you responded the same way he did as he smiled for the first time that night. “I’m actually finishing up my last year in pre-med, and then next year is medical school.”

“You’re pre-med? I had no idea,” Shawn paused and looked up at you from his spot on the ground. 

“Well, you don’t really listen much,” you said slowly, not wanting to break the bond you were slowly building with him. 

“Neither do you,” he said back.

“That’s not true.”

“Really? Do you even know my last name?” He asked with his eyebrows raised. “Because Greg only calls me by it, so everyone should know it.”

You stopped hanging ornaments for a second as you looked over at him, trying to figure out what it was. 

“Does it start with a P?” You asked cautiously.

“Nope,” he said as he continued to wrap the lights. 

“Can you give me a hint?” 

“It’s Mendes,” he said as he shook his head. 

“Well, you just gave it away,” you said defensively. “What’s my last name?” You tested.

“[Y/L/N], I help make the schedule,” he said with an eye roll. 

“Ok, not fair,” you said with a slight laugh, and Shawn returned it. 

Silence fell again as the two of you finished the tree. You both stood back and looked at it side by side. 

“Not bad,” Shawn said.

“Looks good enough to me,” you said as you looked at the list. “So, we just have to hang the garlands and switch out the merchandise.”

“The merchandise is what’s going to suck,” Shawn groaned as he dragged two of the boxes to the shelf. “You can start hanging the garlands and wreaths while I start this.”

You grabbed miscellaneous decorations and started hanging them where the guide directed you to. You carefully hung a garland around the counter and around the menu, ending with a wreath on the front door. 

You break down the boxes, put them away and wander over to Shawn as he fills the merchandise, only being halfway done. 

You sit on the floor next to him and grab the sheet he’s working off of. 

“This doesn’t seem right,” you said carefully as you looked at the sheet and back up at the shelves. “I think you did it backward.”

“No, I didn’t,” Shawn said without even looking at you. 

“Yes, you did. The coffee is supposed to be closest to the door, and you put it the farthest away. You’re supposed to mirror what flip what this sheet shows based on our store design,” you said as you pointed at where it said that on the instructions. 

Shawn leaned against the shelves and sighed as he stared down at the sheet. 

“You sure you’ve never done this before? Because you’re doing a great job at proving me wrong,” he said with just the right amount of sass.

“I worked at other places before this one, and I was a supervisor. I know my way around floorset sheets. But it’s totally fine that you don’t get it yet,” you said with a sympathetic look. 

He rolled his eyes at you, and you couldn’t miss the blush that crept up on his cheeks, which caused yours to do the same. 

You helped him move the items in the correct positions before looking back down at the sheet and finding the new items among the boxes to put on the shelf. 

Shawn moved to put one in the wrong spot again, but you slowly pushed his arm until it was in the right spot. He looked down at you with a small smile.

“I don’t know why they put me in charge of this,” he whispered. 

“Neither do I,” you whispered back. 

He bumped his shoulder into yours as he leaned down to grab more mugs. 

“Why do you hate me?” You asked out of nowhere as you folded your arms across your chest. 

Shawn turns around, mimicking your stance with a confused look on his face. 

“I don’t hate you,” he said bluntly.

“You’ve never said one nice thing to me, and you’re always yelling at me for things I can’t control,” you said carefully.

Shawn paused for a moment, not meeting your gaze. 

“I can’t risk losing this job,” he started. “It’s all I have right now, and I know you can handle it and that you’ll fix whatever the problem is. I can’t say that about anyone else here.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, watching him straighten a row of to-go mugs. 

“If I never call you guys out when something goes wrong, Katie’s eventually going to yell at me about it. But she loves you, and you do everything right. You do everything beyond what’s ‘right.’ And I’m sorry if I came off as anything else other than admiration. You’re amazing at your job,” he said, not looking at you. 

“Really?” You said. 

He simply nodded his head before reaching down to grab the sheet and check his work. 

“If you wanted to work at Starbucks for the rest of your life, you totally could,” he said as he looked back at you with a smirk. 

You rolled your eyes and plucked the sheet out of his hand. 

“What a tough decision. Starbucks or medical school?” You questioned. 

“I think it’s a clear choice. Starbucks,” Shawn teased. 

You grabbed the last few items and put them into the last remaining places as Shawn grabbed a broom to sweep up scraps of cardboard and other paper. 

After that, the two of you stood in the far corner of the store, scanning it carefully to make sure nothing was out of place. Katie would have your heads on a silver platter if it wasn’t perfect. 

“I think it looks good,” you finally said after a minute of silence.

“Yeah, I agree,” Shawn paused. “You did good, [Y/L/N].”

“Wow, the first nice thing you’ve said to me. Thank you, Mendes,” you retaliated. 

“And she remembered my last name,” he said out into the store a little louder than necessary. 

“Alright, let’s get out of here,” you said as you walked away with a skip in your step to grab your bag. 

Shawn followed behind you and grabbed his coat. You followed him towards the back door. 

“What are you up to for the rest of the night?” Shawn asked as he opened the door and held it for you. 

“Sleeping,” you said with a smile as you turned around to look at him. 

“I may not have been able to sing at it, but there are fireworks at the art thing I was telling you about,” he paused and glanced at the time. “They don’t start for another thirty minutes.”

“Are you asking me on a date? Because I’m positive I’m not allowed to date a supervisor,” you said with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes at you. “Fine, then it’s not a date.”

“Ok, not a date. Am I driving or you?”

“You. If I drove, that would be too close to a date, and your car has remote start and is already warm,” he pointed out with a smile.

“Alright, Mendes. Let’s go to see some fireworks,” you said as you began walking him to your car. 

“Can we get hot chocolate?” You asked as you started your car and Christmas music started playing softly through your speakers. 

“Hot chocolate? That’s not Starbucks?” Shawn with his hand to his chest. 

“Guess you’re going to have to fire me,” you said as you threw your hands up. 

“Ok, you’re fired,” he said with a smirk.

You caught on to what he was doing. 

“Fine, let’s go on a date then.”

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[plantvenuss]

Florian . M X Black! reader - They’re gonna love you like I do -

[ CHRISTMAS DAY SPECIAL ]

If you’re interested on any previous Plantvenuss’ Christmas Series, click here ] 🍒!

Summary : Florian’s about to meet your parents for the first time and is extremely nervous about first impressions, after some reassurance Florian pulls it together and manages to make the introduction better than expected.

[ WORDING ERROS/ MISTAKES]

WARNINGS : Extremely light mentions of sex.

-

-

“Merry Christmas!” You cheered, jumping on the sheet silks and straddling a very cheerful Florian. He laughed, the rumble of his happiness vibrating your legs, making you giggle too.

He snaked his hands to your waist, the feel of your warm skin against his cold palms satisfying him. Using your waist to pull you forward he kissed your forehead, then trailed his way down to your nose and to your lips. Each kiss a sweet, lingering one that left tingles against your skin.

His lips were the only thing that was warm about him, the rest of his body cold because you liked to hog the sheets up so much. You hummed against his mouth, the all to familiar feeling buzzing up something inside of you.

Reluctantly you pulled away and took a moment to look at your lover, your boyfriend. 

His eyes was what you loved the most about him, although it was winter and the sun didn’t shine that often, his eyes still found a way to sparkle, which made you feel special because the sparkle only happened when he was truly happy; and they seemed to sparkle the most whenever you were with him.

“Merry Christmas, fetiță.” 

Your heart soared at the sound of your nick name, the way it rolled off of his tongue had you longing for things you didn’t have time for. And so you forced yourself off of him, but not without teasing him. As you rolled off, you slid your hand: very slowly. Across his thigh, brushing against the tip of his cock you left your hand there, looking into his hungry eye momentarily before you slid your hand the rest of the way, walking towards the bathroom.

-

You were driving, and Florian was holding your hand the whole time to subside his nerves. Throughout the drive Florian would barley speak, he had brought up the issue about his anxiousness when it came to meeting your parents, but you always reassured him when you said they would love him like their own, because it was the truth.

But the truth mattered very little to Florian at the moment. He had tried to fall asleep, twice but his nerves kept on jolting him awake. You had even tried to play some soothing music to distract him, but that only seemed to make things worse. You hated that he felt this way, you wanted him to feel confident because that’s who Florian was. A big, tall, humble and confident man.

When you pulled up at the driveway Florian was still holding your hand, It was dark outside and the snow had just stared to coat around the wreath your parents had hung up on their front door.

“You’re going to be okay, I promise.” You assured him, leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek. Gathering everything you needed from the car and Florian’s flowers: that he had very sweetly bought for your mother. You stood on the door step, hand filled with bakeries that you had spent hours cooking a day prior.

You knocked, and before you could even retract your hand the door was swung open, an behind it was your mother who had a very sweet smile plastered across her face. She was in the red christmas apron that she wore every Christmas since you were a child, she took very good care of it and that’s why it never worn out. Her hair was slicked back, her tight curls falling across her face very lazily, she wiped her hands on the apron, took the bakeries you had in your hand and placed them on the small key table you had beside your door.

“(Y/N), It’s so good to see you.” She laughed, bringing you in for a hug, you laughed at how she was acting and pulled away to introduce your boyfriend, who stood with a small smile placed against his lips.

When your mother pulled away, it was almost as if she blushed for the first time, like you could see the redness forming under her toffee skin, you squeezed Florians hand when you were done introducing him. He stuck out his hand awkwardly for a handshake, and your mother swatted it away, pulling him in for a longer hug instead.

“It’s so good to finally see you, Florian. (Y/N) wont shut up about you.” 

You playfully gave her the warning eye, and she smiled an innocent smile. It’s what she did with every boyfriend you introduced to her.

Without saying anything else he pulled the flowers from behind his back and handed them to her, using his hand to squeeze your waist instead. She gasped and patted his cheek, bringing in for another hug.

“Okay, Mum that’s enough.” You said, after seeing she was getting far too comfortable with your boyfriend, she ushered you in, shooing Florian to the living room to get to know your brothers and your Dad. You wish you were there to help him at least, but your mum was keeping you hostage in the doorway, interrogating you.

“Where’d you find a man so fine like that?” She asked, placing her hands on her hips.

“Mum!” you whined, trying to push past her so could assure Florian, but she blocked the door with her arm.

“When you told me he was handsome, you failed to tell me he was handsome, handsome.”

You gave her a serious look, and she returned one back.

“I know right?” You squealed beside her, high-fiving her when she raised her hand. After the giggles died down and you were finally invited in, she made sure she made it clear that she wanted grandchildren as soon as possible.

Ignoring her you found Florian talking with your father about football, which was what you should’ve guessed when you saw your father hunched over the table. You went to go and sit on his lap but quickly moved when you remembered where you were and how your father was looking at you, as if he was warning.

When your mother announced she was going to continue cooking, Florian instinctively stood up, rolling his sleeves to help her. It was a force of habit , being the only child Florian understood the heavy-load of cooking for a whole family could be for a mother, especially around christmas time.

When your father had saw how Florian practically jumped at the idea of helping your mother he nodded, leaning back in his chair with a smile on his face, you suddenly felt a wave of relief swarm into your chest. 

-

“The food was delicious, thank you.” Florian said after both of your parents walked you to your car; even though you repeatedly told them you were fine.

Your father shook his hand, whilst your mother hugged him for the one-hundredth time this night. You were pretty sure Florian’s spine was screaming with the amount of times he had to bend down to your mothers height to hug her.

Once you pulled out and drove down the road you turned to him, a wide smile sat on his face.

“I told you it wouldn’t go bad!” you cheered, making sure to keep both of your hands on the steering wheel, scared that your over-excitement would ruin the rest of your already perfect night.

He smiled to himself stupidly, gliding his hand to yours and intertwining them. He carefully pulled your non-dominant hand away from the wheel, placing a warming kiss on the back of your hand.

“I love you, so much, fetiță.”

[gstqaobc]

CBC NEWS  THE ROYAL FASCINATOR

Friday, March 06, 2020

Hello, royal watchers and all those intrigued by what’s going on inside the House of Windsor. This is your biweekly dose of royal news and analysis. Reading this online? Sign up here to get this delivered to your inbox.

Janet DavisonRoyal Expert

Harry and Meghan's farewell tour

Nearly two months after Prince Harry and Meghan’s seismic revelation that they want to step back as senior members of the Royal Family, the Duke and Duchess of Sussex are back in London for what some are calling their “farewell tour.” The “tour” offers an eclectic mix of events — from support of charitable endeavours to Harry officially opening a motor racing museum to their attendance on Monday at the Commonwealth Service at Westminster Abbey.   There, much scrutiny will be placed on their appearance with other senior members of the Royal Family, including Harry’s grandmother, Queen Elizabeth, his father, Prince Charles, and his brother, Prince William, and his wife, Kate. “They are taking a huge step in giving up royal life — it is all Harry has known — and I would think that he in particular will have very mixed emotions” over the next few days, said royal biographer Penny Junor, author of Prince Harry: Brother Soldier Son. On Thursday night, it was all smiles as Harry and Meghan attended the Endeavour Awards. “One of the main thrusts of Harry’s work has been motivating injured ex-servicemen and women, and this is what the Endeavour Fund Awards are all about,” Junor said via email. “Interestingly, they were set up by the charitable foundation he and Meghan used to share with William and Kate, but from which they broke away before leaving royal work entirely.” Meghan is also expected to attend an event Sunday marking International Women’s Day. “Meghan taking part in International Women’s Day is very much a reflection of her personal and strongly held interests,” said Junor. This weekend’s events are widely thought to be their last official royal appearances before they step back from duties as senior members of the Royal Family on March 31. Whether the events were chosen specifically for that or were in their royal diaries long before their decision to step back was announced isn’t clear. “Their engagements are usually planned months in advance,” said Junor. “Either way, these are causes close to their hearts.” The Commonwealth Service will see them at an event that is also very close to the Queen’s heart. “Both Harry and Meghan were given really central roles within the Commonwealth by the Queen, and I think it’s important to her that if they’re going to be in the U.K., they turn up for this,” said Philip Murphy, director of the Institute of Commonwealth Studies at the University of London. Some of those roles will be given up. Others have been retained as the couple steps back from official duties but keeps some of their private charitable interests. As much as there may be a sense of finality about the weekend’s events, there is also a sense that the Queen is leaving the door open for a return if they wish. The arrangements for stepping back include a review after 12 months. “Clearly the way is being left open for future conversations concerning their role,” said Toronto-based royal author and historian Carolyn Harris. “There have been a number of unexpected developments in the Royal Family in recent months and there may well be more going forward.” One thing is more certain, however — it’s unlikely their new life, which has seen them settle on Vancouver Island, will rid them of something that had clearly been a difficulty for them. “While they may be hoping that they will be able to lead a more private life in [the] future, so far there is no indication that the tabloids plan to leave them in peace,” said Junor.

Soft diplomacy on display

While the Royals may try to avoid any overt public displays of politics, they don’t shy away from soft diplomacy. That’s been front and centre this week as William and Kate visited the Republic of Ireland, and will be at the heart of trips Prince Charles and his wife, Camilla, the Duchess of Cornwall, make later this month to Bosnia and Herzegovina, Cyprus and Jordan. All of this comes in the shadow of Brexit, which included much concern over what would happen with the border between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland. And it was hard not to see the spectre of the U.K.’s departure from the European Union in the speech William made in Dublin on Wednesday night. “As we look ahead to some changes in our relationship, we must never forget how far we have come together in recent decades in transforming the relationships across our two islands,” he said. The Queen made a historic visit to the Republic of Ireland in 2011, which Harris said “was seen as key to addressing the difficult historic relationship between Britain and Ireland.” Charles has also visited, including a 2015 trip to the site of the murder of his great uncle and mentor, Louis Mountbatten, at the hands of the Irish Republican Army. “There’s some evidence there’s a growing interest in Ireland in Irish unity, so certainly this is a delicate time for the members of the Royal Family to visit Ireland,” said Harris. But it was a warm Irish welcome all around for William and Kate during their three-day visit, which included sombre moments as they laid a wreath at a memorial to those who died for Irish independence, and lighter moments as they sampled Guinness and tried their hands at everything from juggling to hurling. “‘I just love them’ — hundreds welcome British royals to Galway,” read a headline in The Irish Times on Thursday. Cyprus is another member of the European Union, so that visit by Charles and Camilla later in March falls in line with a recent trend of European visits by members of the Royal Family. “In terms of the visit to Jordan, the British and Jordanian royal families have a warm relationship and Prince Charles has a lot of interest in interfaith dialogue,” said Harris. “It’s an opportunity for Charles and Camilla to serve in a diplomatic role and to be able to assist with relations between the United Kingdom and Jordan.” While such trips are part of the regular royal routine, they may be receiving more scrutiny right now because they stand in marked contrast to the other more personal royal news dominating the media lately — the departure of Meghan and Harry from the senior ranks. “Now, what might be seen as routine royal visits are attracting a lot of attention, as there’s a lot of interest in how the roles of  senior members ... are being organized,” said Harris.   “It’s been noted Charles has 51 engagements in nine days — so are their schedules going to grow busier or will we simply expect to see fewer overseas tours going forward?” One other question still outstanding: Will there be a high-profile visit to Canada this year? No official word on that yet.

Not on the taxpayers' tab — after March 31

It was a question that loomed over Harry and Meghan and their time in Canada for weeks: Would taxpayers be covering the costs of security for the couple while they are in the country? Finally, the federal government had an answer the other day, and it was multi-pronged. Yes, the government had been helping out with security since they arrived in November. But no, there won’t be any more support after March 31, when Harry and Meghan are no longer carrying out official duties as senior members of the Royal Family. The decision left the Canadian Taxpayers Federation “pretty pleased,” federal director Aaron Wudrick said. “There are not a lot of issues where I get a lot of proactive phone calls and emails from people who are upset, and this was one of them,” he said. “So I think those people are going to be pleased they’re not going to be on the hook for the Duke and Duchess after the end of March.” People wish the couple well, he said. “It’s not personal.” Harry and Meghan won’t be here in any official capacity, and that makes a difference, Wudrick suggested. “They’re essentially viewed by most of the public as wealthy celebrities, and like any wealthy celebrity that moves here, there isn’t really any obligation for everybody else to pay for things like their security.” Wudrick said it was “a bit surprising” to learn how long the government had been paying for their security. While the couple had arrived in November, their presence here was not publicly confirmed until just before Christmas.   “As much as I think some people might still be upset about the fact we paid at all, I think what’s more important is that … Canadians are not being asked to pay indefinitely for them.” Royally quotable"

“It is right that we continue to remember those who suffered as a consequence of our troubled past. And whilst many wrongs have been done, it is important that we are not bound by these." —  Prince William speaks at the Museum of Literature in Dublin as he and his wife, Kate, visit Ireland.

Royals in Canada

Harry and Meghan may be seeking a quieter life on Vancouver Island, but other Royals received a rousing welcome when they came for official visits to British Columbia.

An estimated 15,000 people were on hand when Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip arrived in Victoria on March 8, 1983, the Globe and Mail reported. A “bathtub flotilla” and a crowd estimated at more than 10,000 welcomed Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip when they arrived in Nanaimo a couple of days later.

“The security all but vanished and children ignored rope cordons when nearly everyone who lives in this Vancouver Island city turned out yesterday to see the Queen,” the Globe reported.

The four-day visit to British Columbia also took Elizabeth and Philip to Vancouver, Vernon, Kamloops and New Westminster, and came at the end of a month-long tour to the U.S. West Coast.

Royal reads

1. Harry

teamed up with American rocker Jon Bon Jovi

at the studio made famous by The Beatles. [CBC]

2. Is something going on

behind the scenes

at two royal Instagram accounts? It’s a very interesting question. [New York Times]

3. Seeds from wild carrot, clover and orchids and other plants in Prince Charles’s garden at his country residence are being

added to a "doomsday vault"

in Norway. [Daily Mail]

4. Queen Elizabeth went to the headquarters of MI5 the other day, and praised intelligence workers for the

“tireless work”

they do. [ITV]

5. Just

what is life like for the personal protection officers

who are with members of the Royal Family? [ITV]

Cheers!

I’m always happy to hear from you. Send your ideas, comments, feedback and notes to

royalfascinator@cbc.ca

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