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asiantraderbiz · 1 year

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Santa’s hidden clauses

Stay on course to score big this Christmas by combining World Cup and Winter Holiday sales

Christmas, or the “key festive trading quarter” (as it is hailed in retail), is tinkling towards us. This year it is flanked on one side by the FIFA World Cup, charging at the wide-open goal of greater profits; on the other side, it is in danger of being tackled by a developing cost-of-living crisis and fuel shortage that threatens to make shoppers super-glue their wallets shut.

To start with the problems and opportunities presented by having the 2022 FIFA World Cup so close to the Christmas holidays.

The World Cup, which was postponed to the winter to avoid Qatar’s intense summer temperatures, has completely derailed the algorithms retail chiefs are increasingly using to predict trade and plan their logistics. But is this really a disaster in the making?

Santa shoots, Santa scores

Reports are abounding that the Winter World Cup (as opposed to the Desert World Cup, perhaps more apt) has added a new level of uncertainty to UK Christmas grocery sales. Reuters, for example, reported recently that questions are being raised about how to persuade shoppers to buy Christmas goodies such as luxury biscuits at the same time as beer and pizza – or perhaps to figure out how to get cash-strapped consumers to spend once during the World Cup tournament and then spend again a few weeks later over the Christmas period: “This is a bit of a curveball in terms of how to plan for Christmas and a World Cup at the same time,” Ken Murphy, chief executive of Tesco told reporters last month.

It is true that the football tournament in Qatar, taking place between November 20 and December 18, falls slap bang in the important festive “commercial district” where the highly competitive sector normally generates a large part of its annual profit.

As Murphy hinted, buyer confidence was at record lows even before the government’s new economic plan, now reversed, sent mortgage rates soaring and sparked fears that a sharp fall in house prices could worsen the cost-of-living crisis.

Many think this means that the combined consumer indulgence in November-December is likely to be less than if the two main events were further apart.

But as we can gather from Barclaycard’s observations, the fact is that families take Christmas very seriously and have already begun squirrelling away funds to celebrate the holiday. If anything, the cost-of-living crisis has probably focussed minds more intensely on making sure there is enough to spend on having a good time over the winter equinox.

The FIFA World Cup should probably then be seen as an adjunct to Christmas sales rather than a Grinch-like thief – mums will not allow dads to blow the budget on beer, leaving the kids without selection boxes and plenty of pop.

In addition, there are other factors that suggest Christmas will survive the soccer competition:

Shoppers are cutting down on dining out, suggesting they are planning to celebrate at home. Even if total consumer spending shrinks, it’s a greater proportion of remaining cash will go on goods purchased in c-stores.

Supermarkets are particularly anxious over lost sales, and this might be due not to no sales but more local sales: part of cutting down on expenses is not loading the car up so much, and consumers staying local may well favour local shops.

Many Christmas-related purchases are impulse and self-treating buys. That is why companies such as Mondelēz suggest stocking Christmas-related chocs and sweets even from September, as people anticipate the holidays and start early on to buy seasonal confectionery, for example.

Consumers will also buy the same chocs more than once – a tin of sweets for Christmas in October that will inevitably have disappeared by November and be bought a second time in December.

Apart from that, it is probable that sceptics are underweighting the public’s desire to cheer themselves up on the cheap, for which the double-header of footie and festive cheer is the perfect answer.

So, instead of thinking either/or for Christmas and the World Cup, hedge bets by promoting both in store, and try to make enthusiasm for one feed the other.

As Murphy pointed out, Tesco is planning special signage in stores to draw customers’ attention to football celebration products and offers. This will be separate from the dedicated Christmas products section.

Keep your sleigh full

The opportunities for local independent retailers multiply as Christmas comes closer.

Already we are hearing about how grocery delivery or collection slots for the festive season are likely to all be booked up well ahead of the festive season. When the ongoing supply chain difficulties are also taken into consideration, the number of distress and impulse purchases from disappointed supermarket customers will doubtless be high. Popping out to the local store – there to discover the unobtainable apple sauce or Christmas crackers and wrapping paper long sold-out at Sainsbury or Tesco – will inscribe the convenience channel in shoppers’ memories as the benevolent saviour of the season.

Research by Retail Economics on how retail sales will fare this Christmas showed that retail sales by volume will be down year on year in the final quarter of 2022. However, high inflation currently the value of sales is predicted to rise. The Superdrug chain has just announced a 219 per cent sales uplift of Christmas-related skus compared to this time last year – and November is only just beginning.

In other words opportunity for profit remains, but make sure you are stocked up, and also merchandised in the most enticing manner.

The complexion of gifting is likely to change this year as the cost-of-living increases really bit. Recent research discovered that as many as 46 per cent of UK consumers think they will spend less on traditional presents this year, especially luxury brands, as funds are diverted to essentials.

However, this could prove advantageous for the C-channel as the range of Christmas items traditionally stocked by independent retailers, such as drinks, snacks, chocolates and alcohol, are substituted as gifts.

Do not neglect ordinary groceries when it comes to merchandising for Christmas. Many everyday items take on a special significance at Christmas and oversell during the festive season.

Think about nut & dried fruit displays including shelled and un-shelled nuts, raisins, candied and glacé fruit chinks and pieces, dates (especially Medjool dates), Chestnuts, and pistachio and peanut packs. Shoppers buy all these in greater quantities in the lead-up to Christmas

Stuffing, sauces and helpful convenience packs of vegetables can attract harassed cooks looking to cater for large families, so don’t think beans and brussels sprouts are unglamourous – on the contrary, they are the essence of Christmas just as much as Toblerone and Quality Street!

Cored Pineapples, Cubed Butternut, Microwave Green Beans, Pomegranate Arils, cut vegetable bags, Vegetable Spiral Noodles and pre-ordered fresh cut fruits and vegetables will sell well all month, especially right before Christmas and New Year’s Day. Are you prepared to have these incremental sellers in stock? Don’t forget the Fresh Salsa!

This potential success will be determined by availability and visibility – so turning the store into Santa’s grotto will help send the message that everything needed for merry Christmas can be found without having to travel very far (and waste precious gasoline!).

Last year, according to Nisa, almost a quarter of shoppers planned to spend a bit more on food and drink this year to ensure that Christmas Day, Boxing Day and even New Year’s Eve were extra special. That was after the pandemic restrictions were (almost) lifted. This year, free of all restrictions, but restrained by inflation, the home fires with friends and family are looking more welcoming than ever.

So, remember: Don’t delay – It’s Christmas today – at least in terms of stocking up, as customers start their seasonal spending from September onward and are now going full steam for Santa.

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wesimpforxiao · 3 years

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Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 7.4

Author’s Note: I believe I’ll be doing a LIVE pulling for Xiao tonight around 7:45 PST. Join me if you want to see me cry from happiness or from not pulling him LOL. The link is in one of my previous posts. Before, during, or after this chapter, listen to this song to get a feel of what’s happening! https://youtu.be/ifQ3JRS4gqc

.....................

The voices never truly left you alone after that. You were practically becoming unhinged by the endless whispers that plagued your ears, and the quiet of night only seemed to egg them on further. When you were blessed with their silence, you were plagued the physical pains of the karmic debt and your depression from joining the harbingers. Childe was obviously growing more and more concerned with each passing day; you were beginning to freak him out. The Tsaritsa and the other harbingers, however, found great amusement in your...condition. It was a blessing in disguise; they were manipulating you much easier now that you were exhausted from the sleepless nights.

And it wasn't like you were constantly needing medical care, though you wished they would give you some heavy pain killers. No; whatever damage your body was burdened with would be repaired by morning thanks to Xiao's blood. The pain wasn't nearly as dramatic as the first wave, but it was a constant dull aching that ate away at your bones. Slowly but surely, the pains grew over time.

Xiao made his presence known to you only twice more; he showed himself in the late evenings for brief periods of time to quell your aching heart and mind. At least when he was able to be with you, the dreadful screams would disperse if only temporarily. At least when he was with you, you were granted sleep. Small waves of peace would reclaim you as Xiao watched over your sleeping figure.

But once Liyue's festivities were underway, Xiao's visits became nonexistent and your mind was once again thrown into deeper chaos while he fought off more demons. It was the busiest time of the year for both the inhabitants and the demonic presences of Liyue; it was Xiao's task to fend the latter off since the festivities attracted their attention and strengthened their presence. He felt you slowly shattering, and it hurt him to know he couldn't be with you as often as he wanted to.

One day out of the blue, over a month after you joined the Fatui, Childe approached you with a grand smile across his face. "Ojou-chan! Why don't I show you around Snezhnaya? It's much better than sitting in your room all day."

"...Aren't you always saying we could freeze to death?" Your unamused expression failed to hinder Childe's enthusiasm. "Why would I want to go outside?" The bags under your eyes spoke volumes about your continuous sleepless nights.

"Come on, Mezzetin, it'll be good for you. You could use the exercise."

"Are you implying something?" You're eyes narrowed dangerously, but Childe's grin only widened when your normal quips shone through your broken character.

"Well, if you ever feel the need to put me in my place, I'm more than willing to oblige to a fight," he watched your expression lighten for a moment before urging you. "Come on, I'll show you around."

Sheer cold wasn't an issue for this winter wasteland like it was on Dragonspine, but it had to be at least five times colder here. Childe made sure you were bundled up in a large furry coat before guiding you out of the castle and leading you to a town square that was surprisingly bustling with people despite the frigid temperatures. Stalls lined the streets. People gathered around to buy the freshest local food that included some incredibly large seafood varieties. Others were in line to buy trinkets, house decor, and a variety of other items.

"...A farmer's market?" Your cold breath of a remark caught Childe's attention, and he turned to you.

"Of course! Go ahead and look around. If there's anything you want, I'll buy it for you."

He's trying to cheer me up? You examined Childe's earnest demeanor as he eyed the fish stall with stars in his eyes. Can he just pick a side already?! You rolled your eyes. Still, might as well bankrupt him if he insists. You broke away from him and continued down the rows of stalls for awhile, unaware that the harbinger had rejoined you.

You were busy examining a few intriguing necklaces made of materials you haven't heard of when the whispers of the damned regained their voices. You staggered a bit only to be steadied by Childe's hand on your shoulder.

Childe noted your glowing eyes. "Happening again?" His genuine concern made you relieved that he wasn't a complete monster like the other harbingers. "If you need a break, there's a café over there that we can sit in." Your strained nod prompted him to guide you with a hand at the back of your shoulders.

"Hm?" A strange sound reached your ears, and this time it wasn't from inside your head. Your feet came to a halt before the two of you reached the building, and you tilted your head towards the sound.

It was a light and effortless tune that floated through the open air from yet another building. The melody was slow to build, yet you hung onto its every note. It took you a moment to realize that it calmed the demonic voices from screams to hushed murmurs. You followed the path of the sounds until you found yourself in an extremely outdated music shop.

"Mezzetin?" Childe attempted to regain your attention as he followed after you. He caught onto the childlike wonder glistening in your teary eyes. "Care to explain?"

"The pain..." a tear fell. "It's subsiding." You continued to stare at the harpist that played her tune at the back of the shop, eyes never leaving the fingers that plucked the strings. The voices were gone, and now you were only overwhelmed with a sense of peace.

Childe watched you silently listen to the music for a long while. An idea struck him. "Have you ever played?"

"Huh?" You snapped out of your daze and wiped the tears away. "Um...Granny used to play a lot when I was little. I know a couple tunes, but--" Childe walked to the shop owner without letting you finish, pulling out a large sack of mora while he was at it. "H-hey! What're you doing?"

"If it brings you happiness, then I don't see the problem in buying it," Childe argued back after he had purchased the most expensive harp in the shop and left a considerate tip. The two of you were walking back to the palace now. He had ordered for his subordinates to take the instrument back with them.

"But I haven't played in years! And I said I only knew a few simple tunes--"

"--Then I will ensure you receive lessons." He was not going to budge on this, and he made it obvious with his firm gaze. "The rest of the harbingers made it clear that they do not care for your wellbeing, but I do. Think of this as a gift and a type of therapy. You've been down ever since Xiao left you--"

"I left him," you corrected. And I so regret my decision.

"I'm just trying to prove that you aren't in a prison anymore. If you want to see it as that, then by all means, continue to be depressed. But something tells me you want to see Xiao again and find a way with him, no?"

"...Right."

"Then at the very least accept my apology gift to you."

"Huh? Apology?" You gave him a questioning look, but he either didn't hear you or elected to ignore you.

......................................

Xiao was being as antisocial as ever, but it's not like he would ever turn down an invitation for tea from Rex Lapis himself. Here he was, sitting just outside of Wangshu Inn with his master in the bright of day. Aether probably put the archon up to the task considering how Xiao pushed him away what felt like ages ago, but the yaksha decided to give Zhongli the time of day only because of his deep respect for his savior.

"I've also brought more pain killers," Zhongli handed the yaksha a small jar of other-worldly medicines as he continued to fill him in on the upcoming Lantern Rite. He had yet to bring you into the conversation, most likely to avoid irritating the throbbing wound in Xiao's chest.

"Mm." Xiao gladly accepted the medication and set it aside. This ensured yet another lull in their conversations.

"Will you go this year?" Zhongli sipped at his tea. "To the Lantern Rite?"

"My presence would only hinder the festival. Besides, I'm not great with crowds." The yaksha had yet to meet the archon's eyes, and kept his gaze firm on the teacup in front of him. Truth be told, he would have gone this year...with you, since it was you who had asked him. But now that these circumstances have come to pass, why should he go? "It's just another excuse for humans to discard their trash into the ocean." Why should he go when it would only remind him of his failure to keep you at his side?

Zhongli narrowed his eyes as he pondered whether words of comfort would aid his yaksha. "It would be good for you to experience something new after all your years of living."

"I already have," Xiao clenched his jaw, signaling that the topic was beginning to walk on thin ice. "She--"

"--Is not dead," Zhongli reminded. "Do not mourn for a loss that has not occurred."

"But she's dying," he argued back, finally releasing the emotions he's pent up ever since they left you. Zhongli's look of confusion prompted him to continue. "She can feel the karmic debt bestowed upon me."

"When did this begin?" The archon's usual reserved composure faltered slightly while his eyes widened.

"A month ago. I visited her; she can hear the voices of the damned. She's been in physical and mental pain ever since."

"The bond..." Zhongli set his teacup down a bit abruptly as he thought to himself. "It appears these side effects grow stronger in the other's absence. How intriguing..."

"How do we discard them? Is there a way?"

"Have you not interpreted my words in Qingce Village all along? Or my words at the Dawn Winery? I've already given you the means to act, Xiao."

--Can feel your emotions...emotions cannot be permanently ignored...fall on deaf ears...early grave... Xiao scoffed and downed the rest of his tea before forcefully setting the cup back down onto the table. "You think admitting my alleged feelings for a mortal human would solve the problem?"

"She's done her part, now it is your turn," he straightened. "If you fail to do so, I fear she will perish from your karmic debt in no time at all. If what you say is true, it's a miracle she's still alive. Your admittance would seal the bond, as it would eliminate the side effects altogether."

Xiao's head whipped in the direction of the playing of an instrument note, but was only greeted with the joyful screams of children running around nearby. "Tch. How annoying," he played his mishearing off and returned to his normal sitting position. Another sound reached his ears, but he neglected to react to it. The notes are off.

Zhongli didn't question Xiao's sudden alertness, but that didn't take away from the fact that yet another side effect has revealed itself to the archon. It appeared as though the yaksha was already aware of this side effect.

And man, did this one annoy Xiao the most. He heard the most random of tunes and chords at the most random of times. It would even jolt him awake when he managed to fall asleep on rare nights. It wasn't all unpleasant though; there were times in which the melody struck all the right notes and the result was a beautiful thirty second song before it was gloriously ruined by the musician's hesitance or embarrassment.

He knew it was you. Your constant need to practice was as pestering as your old daily prayers before he revealed to you that he could hear them. At least he only sometimes heard the plucking of strings. As pesky and invasive as it was, your insistence upon playing what Xiao only assumed was a lyre somehow brought a bit of joy to his heart. It meant that you were doing better than the last time he saw you.

He just wished he could hear the end result and not your sloppy practice sessions.

........................

Only on the eve of the Lantern Rite, several days before the celebration, did he come to appreciate the hours of hard work you were putting into practicing the music.

You had locked yourself in your room again after watching the failed experiments Dottore had forced you to witness. How many did you see die today? Fifty? He clearly needed to adjust the ratio of your blood to whatever else he had in that serum he developed. What was worse was that you were beginning to become desensitized to the loss of human life; amused by it, even. Just as the Tsaritsa wanted. Sometime into the fortieth treatment, your pains grew stronger as did the voices of the slain daemons.

You retreated to your room, relieved that Childe had for once allowed you to be without his presence. You sat yourself next to the window and allowed for the evening light to illuminate the music sheets the harbinger had bought for you. Your fingers grazed lightly over the strings as the voices continued to grow louder, absently plucking one of them to ensure that you still had full control over your slightly twitching limbs. You had nearly snapped the strings last time the voices overwhelmed you--

There's no time nor need to reminisce those incidents. You pulled yourself out of your thoughts and began to play, the smooth vibrations of the harp humming against your chest and shoulder as the strings were struck. Unlike your practice sessions, your hands glided over the strings from one position to the next like you had played for a thousand years. No hesitation could be felt from the chords. Finally, it seemed as though you mastered this song.

Xiao. I miss you...your warmth...your embrace... Your infested thoughts soon cleared as your mind drifted to an image of him. I wonder if he too finds comfort in music when the voices overwhelm him? For you knew that when the voices grew louder, he too, was subject to them. The music overcame the screaming daemons, and you were relieved with a sense of peace. Your fingers continued to play through the music and repeated the song for as many times as you felt fit. Your aching limbs continued to throb, but you didn't let that stop you from playing. Your mind now clear as water, you poured your longing for Xiao into your music. You hummed the melody as you played.

One day you'll find your way back to him, or him to you. Was it okay to allow yourself to believe in the possibility that he held the same feelings for you? Did he love you? No--Could he? It was already naïve enough to think he was capable of harboring such intimate feelings after living through hell for over two thousand years. And even if he did, it's not like you'd live as long as he has. Would he push me away again? You shoved that thought out of your mind with another series of chords.

You wouldn't be able to put an end to your feelings no matter what he did. He was too admirable, too strong, too strict, too beautiful. He was too kind, even if he put up a front. You loved him too much; perhaps that would end in your own downfall just as Childe predicted and beat into your head every day, but that was alright with you. If the voices were to eat away at you until all that remained were ashes, you were okay with being true to yourself until the very end. Even if he never thought of you as something more than a companion. And as you thought of him, the longing to be reunited swelled within your chest and overflowed into your fingers.

Your song was your unspoken prayer, your love and dedication were your offerings.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #xiao #xiao fanfiction #xiao genshin impact #genshin impact xiao

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stanknotstark · 3 years

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Odinson M.D. (Loki x reader) Pt. 1

I’m excited for this series honestly. I’m doing a lot of research so I write this medically correct tho, if yall see anything wrong don’t be afraid to tell me ^^

Summary: Y’all wanted a House AU so here it is. Loki is a doctor who keeps most people at bay with his sharp wit and sarcasm. He doesn’t understand the need for romantic ploys and casual human discussion. He thrives in the hospital, trying to figure out the unknown, even if his methods turn a bit morally ambiguous at times. That’s why he has Thor and Frigga to keep him in line although he would argue he has no need for it. You just happen to be a doctor on tenure under Loki’s tutelage along with Steve Rogers and Peter Parker. Can you convince the jaded doctor you’re just what he needs to keep him on his toes?

Loki feels the, what had started as pin pricks now, full blown boredom eating away at his overactive mind. He folds sticky notes, from his rolling chair, into small balls and flicks them over to his brother, Thor, who stands fiddling with a broken, plastic Santa sitting on the desk they hang around. Thor proudly wears his white lab coat on top of a nice plaid button down and brown, pressed slacks. Loki prefers to stick to his more casual clothes, if not a bit fashionable for casual, for a doctor. He wears a black cashmere sweater with gray, pressed slacks, a nice pair of oxfords to finish his style. It’s enough to keep him warm during the winter season.

Christmas, such a mainstream holiday. Loki abhors this season what with all the festive cheer and decorations that litter NYC. You can’t walk two feet without being guilted into giving money to the people who stand on corners with bells for the Salvation Army. You can’t buy something nice without a cashier smiling at you, as if all knowing, and asking who you’re giving this gift to with cheerfulness in their high pitched voices. What he especially hates is that Odin expects him to show up to the family dinner every Christmas, seeing as Thor has a wife and has to spend half his time with her family. Loki is the black sheep that’s expected to pick up where his brother has neglected. All in all, Loki would demolish this one holiday from existence if he had the even the slightest chance.

The only good thing about being a doctor was that meant he could get away from most of the holiday by working through it. He couldn’t always escape the dinners seeing as his mother, Frigga, was of administration and Dean of Medicine on his floor. Not only did that hinder him but his father owned the hospital, so he was at a disadvantage, if only by a bit.

“We are condemned to useless labor.” Loki sighs out, his fingers playing with another yellow sticky note, crushing it into a ball.

“Fourth circle of hell,” Thor replies with a roll of his eyes as a paper ball launches towards him, hitting him in the cheek before falling to the ground. “Charting goes a lot faster when you eliminate all classic poetry, brother.” Thor says lightly. A suggestive twitch of his lips all Thor gives to a bored Loki.

Loki takes time from making paper balls to look over at the pile of charts next to him, sitting on the clinic’s lobby desk, waiting for his attention. He’s sure if the charts came to life they would resemble a dog, desperate for attention, wagging its tail with excitement when he finally looks at it. “Writing down what we already know to be read by nobody,” Loki brings his attention back to making another paper ball, completely ignoring the fact that Thor had rolled his eyes so hard he probably has a headache. “Pretty sure Dante would qualify that as useless,” Loki says lightly, a frown on his lips.

“You’re two weeks behind on your charting!” Thor says with exasperation, stopping his fiddling with the Santa to look at Loki as if he had offended Thor personally.

Loki flicks another ball at Thor, however he misses his target and, it sails past Thor, hits Frigga on the chest whom had just walked into the clinic. She watches the paper fall to the ground, giving Loki a look of disappointment. The man gives his mother an innocent smile from his seat. “Oops! I missed.”

“Are you eight years old?” The poised woman asks with a squint in her eyes as she walks over to the side of the desk Loki and Thor reside at. She picks up one of Loki’s charts and reads it with flickering eyes.

“Could an eight year old do this?” Loki asks, catching Frigga’s eyes, and sticks his tongue out at his mother who rolls her eyes. What is it about Loki that causes everyone to roll their eyes? Something he’ll never get the answer to, not because he can’t but because he doesn’t care enough to find the answer when it’s so painfully obvious.

Loki’s mother lifts Loki’s chart, she had picked up, a little higher as if trying to garner Loki’s attention, after she had finished reading through it, and looks at him with frustration. “You have a patient in exam one, Loki.”

Loki settles further into the rolling chair, throwing the pad of sticky notes on the desk, bringing his hands together over his stomach and lacing his fingers. Loki embodies the epitome of comfort and relaxation. He shrugs. “Yes but see I’m off at twelve and it’s already five off...” He shakes his head minutely with a look that says ‘Not much I can do’. He’s rather hoping his mother will let him off the hook this one time. He knows she has a soft spot for him and takes full advantage of that. Thor remains quiet on the matter, playing with the plastic Santa that’s supposed to sing when you press its button.

“She’s been waiting for you since eleven.” Frigga says with finality. Setting his chart down, Loki swears he could hear a gravel slamming down, and then she leaves but not without a pointed look at Loki. This meant Loki isn’t getting away this time. He sits there with his lips pursed and a frown etched into his eyebrows as he watches her retreating form.

“Melancholy without hope, which circle is that?” Loki pointedly asks Thor who looks at him with a sympathetic look only causing Loki to scoff and rolls his eyes as he stands, grabs his cane, and makes his way towards exam room one.

Loki limps into the room, already conscientious about his gold and green cane, making sure it doesn’t hit the wall as he slips into the exam room.

Looking back Loki doesn’t regret the choices his made on the cane. The man liked attention from the right people. He hates most casual people seeing as he usually finds them boring, predictable, and the need for small talk not something he takes much joy from. The cane definitely stood out and was the starter of conversation for common man that passed him by, unfortunately. This wasn’t enough to make Loki regret his ostentatious picks on his cane though.

The cane itself is light but durable. The stabilizer at the bottom had four anti-slip feet, covered by a wide quad base, all black and shiny. The cane, in all its glory, was emerald green, specifically requested by Loki, and had snakes engraved in the metal base. The snake outline, repeated around the entire cane, were then dusted in gold and, shined pretty and proper when in the sun. The snakes that run from the bottom to the top, run up the cane with open mouths as if devouring the brethren that followed up the last snake. When they reach the top of the cane, the handle’s edge, they stopped. The handle itself was covered in pure gold. The inside of it was carbon so it was lighter to carry but still very durable. The handle was fashioned after the head of a Black Mamba. Sleek and slim but one of the deadliest, most venomous snakes in the world. A symbol of Loki’s true power, or at least that’s what he told anyone that asks. In all honesty, Loki had picked the Black Mamba head because he thought it looked cute. He had a reputation to uphold, however.

Loki pushes his way into the exam room to find three nuns, one on the medical bed with two nuns on each side. As he closes the door he turns his head so he may let his eyes go wide without the women seeing his exasperated look. He turns his head back after the door is closed and he reins in his emotions.

“Hi, I’m doctor Odinson,” Loki supplies the three women, setting his cane aside in the room and looking up at the women with a small tilt of his lips. “What seems to be the problem?” He asks the woman sitting on the bed.

“Show him your hands, Augustine,” One of the sisters demands of Augustine, the woman on the bed Loki tabs in his head.

As the woman shifts the cloth covering her hands Loki takes the time to pop a pain pill into his mouth, swallowing without water if only because he’s been taking them for years for his disability. The use of the word disability is new, seeing how he didn’t take to the word too kindly in the beginning. As of now, he has accepted it for what it is and calls it as it should be, a disability. Something that may hinder him but does not define who he is or ever shall be.

Sister Augustine lifts her hands in front of her and they shake a bit as she holds them out for Loki to examine. They look raw, red, and as if they’re wet but in reality it’s because they’re covered in an ointment and severe rash. They’re pruned as if they spent too much time in water. When she turns over her hands to show him the palms he notes that they’re also raw and red, but more so and bleeding probably from scratching.

“It looks like stigmata.” The sister on the right of Augustine needlessly announces to Loki, or possibly to no one in particular. The other sister on the left shushes at her. Loki has to resist the urge to roll his eyes at her remark. Of course this ignorant nun would condemn her sister for something as simple as an allergic reaction. She finds the rash to be a form of disgrace on her sister. Typical.

Loki steps forwards, his eyes on her hands, “Must be all the talk around the holy water cooler.” He lightly supplies the three sisters with a joke to break the tension that had risen from the sister’s remark of stigmata. His eyes come to rest on her hands and as he reaches up to hold them in his own says, “You been washing a lot of dishes lately?” Loki glances up at sister Augustine’s aloof face.

“I help out in the kitchen.” Augustine replies.

“Anything new in the kitchen?” Loki asks, trying to pinpoint what’s causing the rash.

“We just got a donation of pots and pans this week.” The nameless nun tells Loki which supplies Loki with an answer for her reaction. Dish soap, pots and pans wouldn’t have caused such a reaction.

“I unpacked and washed them.” Augustin gives Loki, trying to help him out.

“Should have spent your time saving souls,” Loki says, his natural sarcasm coming over him, “It’s easier on the hands.” He says with a face that could be taken as contrite but is actually irony. “This is contact dermatitis. You’re allergic to dish soap.” Loki tells the nuns, his mind bored with how easy this diagnoses is.

As Loki turns to write down his report in the chart one of the nameless nuns speaks up. “Nonsense! We’ve always used that soap, why would it be a problem now?” She asks Loki.

Loki lets his head tilt back as he looks at the ceiling with a playful look on his face. “I’ve been a doctor for years,” He looks at the nun who spoke up, “Why do I have to keep assuring people I know what I’m doing?” He asks rhetorically. Not only talking about the nuns, Loki thinks of the many times where he has had to convince his own mother, and brother, that he knew what he was doing, going so far as to proving it.

“A person can become allergic to substances they’ve had repeated and prolonged exposure to.” Loki explains, his eyebrow raising perfectly, as if asking if the sisters had any other remarks to make before he looks down at the chart for Augustine to write his report real quick.

Loki then makes his way to the cabinet and picks out a small box inside of it. “Good news is, free samples!” He gives a fake smile, and excited tone, to the nuns. “I’m giving you an antihistamine to stop the allergic reaction,” He explains his process. “Take one every eight hours, might make you sleepy, and get some over the counter Cortisone cream, for the itchiness.” Loki looks at sister Augustine to make sure she understood his words, nodding at her when she gives an understanding nod, then handing her two pills from the box he had pulled from the cabinet.

“Thank you, doctor.” Augustine says with a small smile and nod.

“Want me to get some water?” Loki asks the women.

“I have some tea!” A nameless nun says, grabbing her thermos and giving it to Augustine.

Loki nods at the nun and backs up to pick up the chart. “Relax for a minute, the pills work pretty fast.” Then he leaves the room thinking he is done for the day in the clinic, thank god.

Loki throws the chart on top of his other charts he had left on the desk with Thor, in the lobby, and sighs as he limps around the desk and to Thor’s side.

“Still out by twelve.” Thor says, more so to grate on Loki’s nerves than anything.

Loki lets it go but replies, “How do you solve the problem of dermatitis.”

“Doctor? I want to thank you for your patience.” A sister says interrupting the conversation Loki was about to have with Thor. One of the sisters from Augustine’s side now stands in the clinic’s lobby with Loki and Thor. Her face showing she genuinely means it.

Loki manages to give Thor a disparaging look when he asks, “She talking to you?” As if shocked Loki was getting any kind of compliment. Loki can’t fault him there, he isn’t used to getting compliments either. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t bask in it but it is a little uncomfortable.

“I don’t know, she’s certainly looking at me...” Loki says back to Thor, shifting his weight from foot to foot in discomfort. He turns, watches, as the sister makes her way over to him, standing a little over a foot away. Enough distance to be comfortable since she is a stranger but a little too close for Loki’s comfort anyways. He hates people, so physical, so sentimental.

“It’s so good to get a secular diagnosis.” The nun offers Loki with a gratified look on her face, her body swaying with her words like she really means them.

Loki feels the frown come over his face and he tilts his head down at the sister.

“The sisters tend to interpret their diagnosis as divine intervention.” The nun explains to a bewildered Loki.

“And you don’t?” Loki asks, his voice not betraying his confusion but it’s definitely there. This sister is very...different from regular nuns, he can already tell. Her ideologies being promulgated so plainly are leaving Loki in an almost disoriented state. “Then you’re wearing an awfully funny hat.” Loki says, his sarcasm coming out to hide his true feelings on this whole conversation. The sister merely tilts her head with a look that says ‘Very funny’.

“Oh boy.” Thor whispers behind Loki. Loki can feel him shifting as if he wants to escape this situation just as much as Loki. “Excuse me.” Thor says grabbing all his charts and reports so he may make a swift exit. Loki glances back at Thor, his face now shifting from its usual neutrality to a look of perplexity and a hint of longing as he wants to leave too. Loki looks back to the sister, hiding his emotions again as she speaks.

“If I break my leg I believe it happened for a reason. I believe God wanted me to break my leg,” The sister says, her face showing nothing short than utter earnestness that almost makes Loki gag. “I also believe he wants me to put a cast on it.” The sister finishes causing Loki’s lips to twitch upwards and forget his brief nausea. He likes her, something no one that truly knew him would take lightly.

“Doctor! Something’s wrong!” The other sister says loudly as she races into the lobby. This breaks the little moment the sister was having with Loki and he stands at attention.

They all make their way back to exam room one with hast in their steps and Loki’s limp.

When Loki enters the room he finds Augustine to be hunched over, rapidly breathing but the air is filled with wheezes as if she can’t get breath into her lungs. Loki quickly tabs this as an asthmatic attack but grabs his stethoscope and brings it up to her chest. “Lift up your chin.” He demands softly, letting the stethoscope land on her chest when she does and moves it from the left to the right side listening to her lungs and heart as she panically breathes in faster.

“Sister you’re having an asthma attack, I need you to relax,” Loki drops the stethoscope from her chest, taking it from his ears, and turns to the drawers in the room, “Roll up her sleeve, please.” He demands of the sister next to him. He quickly picks up an syringe from the drawer he opened and turns back to sister Augustine. “I’m going to give you epinephrine,” He explains. “It will open your lungs and help you breathe.”

Loki uncaps the shot, by mouth, and quickly sticks the sister’s arm, injecting the liquid components of the epinephrine into her upper arm with fluid movements as if he’s done this a thousand times before, because he has.

Loki looks up at sister Augustine to assess the situation. The cap of the needle still in his mouth which he lightly grinds around with his teeth, almost nervous but not quite.

Everything is quiet for a moment. Loki takes this time to remove the needle from the sister’s arm and replace it with a cotton ball which he presses to her skin with moderate strength to stop any blood flow that may have followed the intrusion.

“What happened?” One of the sisters ask.

Loki foregoes the answer to that question to ask his own, “Did she take the pill?” He looks at the sister next to him, the one that had warned him of the situation and had stayed behind with sister Augustine. The one that had called it stigmata.

“Yes.” She says in a tone that betrays confusion and defensiveness.

“It’s an allergic reaction.” Loki explains ignoring the sister’s emotions at his question.

“She’s allergic to an anti-allergy medicine?” The same sister asks in an incredulous tone now.

Sister Augustine sits there taking in small mouthfuls of air, as if she now understands breathing is a commodity. Her body is still hunched over as she grabs at the medical bed with a white knuckled grip. Loki looks at her sympathetically. “How are you feeling?” He asks thinking about what variations he can use to treat her allergic reaction on her hands now that the blood rushing experience is over. “I’ll put you on some steroids instead.” He decides out loud, capping the syringe he used and throwing it away in the designated red safety box.

“Is my heart supposed to be feeling so funny?” Sister Augustine asks breathlessly, Loki watching as she brings a hand up to grab at her chest.

“It’s called adrenaline, makes the heart beat fast.” Loki says flippantly but puts two fingers on her pulse point on her wrist just to check if it’s something worth looking into. Loki looks at Augustine with concern, his eyes flitting around the room in thought, “But not this fast.”

Sister Augustine takes in a deep breath, wheezing again.

“Get a nurse, please.” He tells one of the sisters in a calm but pressing tone.

Sister Augustine leans into Loki’s body with a whimper and he grabs her so he may lightly rest her on the bed in a supine position. He leans over her watching her and trying to figure out what’s wrong, what could possibly be causing this, and how to fix it, fast.

“Somebody help!” Loki hears the nun call outside the room.

His attention is diverted when sister Augustine passes out. He quickly puts the stethoscope in his ears and puts the diaphragm on her chest, checking for her heart beat first, then her lungs. There is no comforting beat to be heard and her breathing has completely stopped as if it never existed, pulling this situation from a simple allergic reaction to something far, far more serious than Loki had anticipated.

“Somebody get in here!” Loki yells out frustrated no one has answered their calls for help. Finally a nurse in blue scrubs comes in, realizing the situation is of immediate emergency and looks at Loki so she may help.

“Call a code and charge up the defibrillator, she’s got no pulse.” He says speedily, starting to perform CPR on sister Augustine. The nurse flees from the room in record time to grab a defibrillator and yell at someone to call a code blue.

Loki manages CPR for a few minutes until the defib team comes in and takes over. They only barely manage to bring sister Augustine back to life.

Loki stands at the doorway, the two other sister next to him praying, he bites at his thumb. His mind is racing with the need for an answer. What caused this? What was he missing? It’s an allergic reaction, there’s no doubt about that, nonetheless he can’t figure out why everything he tried sent her into further shock. She couldn’t possibly have been allergic to everything he gave her, antihistamine and epinephrine. There is a factor here that he doesn’t know about, something is missing, and he would figure it out if it was the last thing he did.

Loki barely glances at one of the sisters as they take a drink from a thermos before going back to saying their Hail Mary’s.

Tagging (because they showed interest for this series): @rosaline-black @blueberrynonnie

I won’t tag yall in any other posts unless you specify you’d like that! i just wanted you both to know i started it and if you’d still be interested 😊

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7wanderingpaws · 3 years

Text

Captain Bucheon 05

(gif is not mine!)

Warnings: language, tension, (a bit unedited)

Word count: 3.6K

story masterlist masterlist

tags: @wooya1224 @to-all-the-stories-i-love @jennxx3 @realllllrica @energeticsirens (let me know if you want to be un/tagged)

<– Previous

Fifth: Birthday Party

The winter season had finally given way to spring, the cherry blossoms blooming around the campus. Your dorms still sucked, but one thing that was good was the beautiful pink trees welcoming you whenever you left or arrived from school or work. The entrance was full of cherry blossoms, and when you rushed to your early classes in the mornings, you'd catch cats curled up and sleeping on the fallen leaves.

Even though you enjoyed winter, you couldn’t deny the magical hope spring always managed to plant in you. If the smog wasn’t too severe (and in spring it always was) you could smell the distant scent of flowers, grass and life. Students and professors were scattered around the campus, making videos and pictures, the white and pink cherries a huge attraction even for the dullest person out there.

For some reason, however, this season also made you incredibly sad.

A very unnerving, in the corner creeping, emotion of yearning, longing, pining and all the other synonyms that expressed missing something you couldn’t quite pinpoint were eating you away. The sadness that made your mood so incredibly low and sad that you couldn't enjoy the cherry blossom season as much as you used to. It was a huge love of yours; every year during high school taking a long walk, wearing the uniform skirt not so horrible anymore while you and Yuyeon laughed at something stupid. That magical instance when the gentle breeze blew and the leaves created a pink rain fall--

Someone hitting you with folded paper was what snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned around, glaring at the intruder. “Yah, Oh Sehun!” you shouted, scowling.

Sehun was smiling brightly, your face expression entertaining him. “You looked like you were thinking too deeply. Didn’t want an accident.”

You rolled your eyes and watched him sit down on the bench opposite you. He put his backpack next to him before leaning on his elbows on the table. “Meaning?”

“You don’t think, you just do stuff. Thinking could have damaged you further and we don’t want-“

Your fist landed on his bicep and he laughed harder, not even bothering to fake the pain. “You are so dead, Sehun!”

After he calmed down he pretended to tap the tears away around his eyes which made you roll your eyes again. “Anyway, you know it’s next weekend, right?”

You frowned. “What is next weekend?”

Your question came out like a bite of an angry dog but you almost immediately forgot about your bicker when you spotted Yuyeon from afar; she was mingled among a small crowd of students but you could see whom she was talking to very well. After all, you saw the guy almost daily. Chul.

They seemed to be deep in conversation and he was nodding thoughtfully, taking her every word. While she was explaining something, he looked up to run his eyes over their surroundings carefully which, in your eyes, looked a little off.

“Hey-“ Sehun waved his hand in front of your face, “I’m right here, don’t ignore me. And Yuyeon was supposed to tell you.”

You snapped your eyes back to Sehun, still frowning. “She didn’t tell me anything regarding next week.”

Sehun groaned like a kid. “You’re a terrible friend anyway! You should have known it’s my birthday!”

Your eyes widened and you scrambled for your school diary (that was a huge mess) and aggressively listed through the pages until you landed on the second week of April. With small letters, Sehun’s birthday was noted on the paper with a little flower next to it.

“I’m not a bad friend, look,” you pouted, pushing your diary in his face.

With a sigh he was fast to push your hand away. “Well, mark it better. You’re coming for a little camping trip.”

“Camping trip? During school?”

Sehun looked at you dumbfoundedly before he started to giggle. “This is university, sweetheart, there is no such thing as school night anymore, and it’s funny that out of all people you complain when you’re the naughtiest kid on the campus. And besides, it’s on the weekend. You don’t work either,” he clicked his tongue and then proceeded to flick your forehead. “So no excuses.”

“Ouch, you DUCK!” you growled, massaging the throbbing skin with your fingers. “Why is your birthday in April out of all months!”

“Whoa, whoa, I could hear you guys from afar already,” a new voice chirped in and your eyes immediately snapped towards your best friend.

A little shocked at her cheerful attitude, you looked at the place you last saw her with Chul but, of course, he was nowhere to be seen anymore. The last thing you'd expect her to be like after a conversation with Chul was cheerful.

“It’s your fault, Yuyeon-ah. You forgot to tell Nari that I’m having a camping trip.”

“Oh,” Yuyeon seemed genuinely surprised as she sat down on the bench next to you. “It slipped my mind completely - and no, not your birthday but the trip!” She held her hands up quickly in defense before he could flick her forehead as well, Sehun’s scowling eyes sending daggers her way.

“Wonderful friends I have,” he muttered and shook his head in disappointment. “Well, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. Thankfully I have friends who actually care,” he said and stood up, throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

Both you and Yuyeon followed him with your eyes, perplexed at his sudden change of attitude. “Where are you going?” you spoke up at the same time with Yuyeon.

“Have some stuff to do for class. See you, losers!”

“What did just happen…”

“Well. Whatever, Sehun is weird,” you dismissed, not sparing his retreating figure any more glance as you turned to your friend. Swiftly bringing out your phone from your pocket, you searched for one contact you saved in the morning, and pushed the device into Yuyeon’s hands, ignoring her perplexed expression. “I need a favor. You need to call the police for me.”

“What?” She was only able to raise her eyebrows and give you a pathetic look. “What is it about?”

“I need them to come during the festival, it’s the security measures,” you said, almost whining because you yourself hated this irrelevant task you were given. “And I can’t risk that someone particular will pick up the phone.”

Yuyeon sighed but she had a soft expression as she nodded. She still threw you a skeptical look. “First of all, it’s bold of you to think that you’d have the pleasure to speak to the captain of the police himself when I’m sure they have some lowly workers doing this kind of job. Second? Fuck Chul. The hell is he thinking - giving you all the trash work, as if he isn’t the student president.”

Yuyeon mentioning Chul when they were just meeting minutes ago didn’t sit well with you. She didn’t mention talking to him whatsoever and you concluded she didn’t have the intention of doing it at all. Observing her for a little longer, you decided to deal with that problem later. She was your best friend. She would never do something to harm you.

After explaining all the details to Yuyeon, she finally called. It took almost fifteen minutes with the whole call procedure until you could talk with the relevant person in charge. To your and Yuyeon’s surprise, they already knew about the topic.

“Oh, so the event has been reported? And you already have a team to send for that day?” Yuyeon was repeating everything the person on the other side told her, giving you a surprised stare.

You shrugged, albeit worriedly before muttering under your nose: “Why did that fucker-“

“Alright, great. Thank you!” She put down the phone with a huff. “Well, that’s that. They already knew about this.” Her knee was going up and down, her teeth gnawing on her lower lip, tearing the dried skin. “Is Chul testing you or something? Why is he making you do stuff only for it to be already resolved?”

You shrugged again. “At least it’s done. Thank you,” you murmured, widening your eyes into those of a puppy before you pushed out your lower lip, pouting.

Yuyeon rolled her eyes and flicked you on the forehead. What was it with your friends flicking you today?

You scrubbed at the red spot on your forehead as she said: “Don’t mention it. What wouldn’t I do for this troublemaker, huh?” She smiled at you and pushed your phone into your hand. “Are you confident about running? And MCing for that bitch?”

You deflated even more. Your body was not built for running. And Siamsa requesting you to be the MC was just as suspicious as the whole police thingy being already resolved. “Nope! But who cares! It’s Oh Sehun’s birthday and you didn’t even bother telling me about the camping trip?”

She looked surprised for a moment before she realized something. “Oh, right, it slipped my mind. I have class projects and well… sorry. I was supposed to tell you.” Yuyeon looked apologetic and you wanted to ask what was the issue but decided against it.

“It’s okay. But I think he is legit mad.”

“I know.”

After that, the days became a blur. You tried your best to juggle running between studying sessions. Sometimes you would stay in the dorm room but the squeals of girls on the corridor would irritate you to the bits which eventually led you out of the dorms and into a coffee shop.

Assignments were piling up and Sehun’s trip was happening just before the midterms which wasn’t the best news. You tried hard to focus but the unstable job you had was also giving you a hard time. There had been another case where you didn’t manage to bring a box to the right door yet… much later you received a confirmation text. It was giving you stress. And you started to regret taking up the job at some point. Someone must have been delivering them. You were suspicious of this for a while but was too preoccupied with the task at hand to try to catch the culprit.

Well, could they be called a culprit when, in fact, they were doing you a favor? If more than anything, it was the unsettling feeling that you were being played by someone you probably didn't know, since Chul was doing anything but talking about this job.

Instead, he was always hot on your heels, were it the running practice that you swore you’d give up, because coach Lim was relentless, or he was bothering you about the damn MC thing, bugging you about doing well and trying to be your best possible version. Just thinking about having to pretend in front of Siamsa, when you knew she was Baekhyun's ex, and a complete piranha behind the scenes, made you go nuts. It had certainly been a while since you wanted to be done with something this much and at the same time dreading the moment it would come.

If that wasn't giving you anxiety, you also had to make sure not to go to the running track outside of your scheduled training. The possibility of running into Baekhyun was scaring you. Unable to pinpoint why exactly, you just decided to ignore the topic, despite finding yourself daydreaming about facing him again. Daydreaming about certain moments with him that actually happened, but they were buried deep inside you, hidden under stocks and stocks of much more memorable memories than those created with him.

Since you never saw him after that incident where you slapped him, you were more relaxed (and a little guilty).

Currently, you took the empty beer bottle in your hands, music blasting loudly as you stood up on the top of the table, enjoying the cheering from your small audience that you stole away from the birthday boy, Sehun.

You pushed me away with your very hands

Once were so wanted by me

As soon as Yuyeon recognized the lyrics, she jumped up to join you, taking an empty soju bottle in her hand and made a microphone out of it. You were fast to drape your heavy arm around her neck and shouted:

What can I do?

What should I do?

I no longer have your breath with me

But I am still loving you

Sehun was facepalming in the background because you had been high on this song since last year, after the harsh breakup. He knew the signs very well and he could only sigh harder when he saw a message from the only person missing at the late night party:

Just arrived

Coming in now

“Oh, dear,” he scrunched up his face, looking at you exaggeratedly rolling your hips to follow Rain's dance moves. He had to admit you were too good at those moves.

As soon as you heard cat calls, your hands went flying up to your hair, lifting it up to reveal your neck before you pushed your bum out, sliding your hands lower, outlining your breasts.

“Jesus, she is on fire!” someone shouted.

You giggled loudly and Yuyeon slapped your butt, making you squeal before the both of you continued with the song that made you want to weep and give up yourself to someone at the same time; give up yourself to a certain someone.

With the way you used to look into my eyes

You dramatically turned to Yuyeon who mimicked you, both of you staring into each other's eyes before you turned back to back, feeling her bum pressed into yours. With a swift sway of your head, you got rid of your messy hair that was obscuring your sight, spotting a mop of messy blond hair before singing:

Please turn back to me and just feel my heart

And could you please tell me

Your eyes locked with Baekhyun's who was standing motionlessly on the doorstep, staring at you with an unreadable expression.

That you still love me

The words left your mouth, and you became breathless.

Was it the booze? Or did Byun Baekhyun just look hundred times more appealing to you after drinking? What was the captain even doing there in the first place? Wasn't he a little old to be here celebrating Oh Sehun's birthday with the kids that he thought you were?

Not daring to even blink, you continued your charade, enjoying the way his eyes wandered down your body when you swayed your hips to the rhythm, rolling your hips to the surface of the table and enjoying yourself a little too much. You were wearing hip jeans and a crop top, the textile straining over your breasts just the way you wanted it to be tonight. The revealed belly and the dimples on your lower back just above the belt of your jeans was teasing enough to bring a little craze to the audience you earned. Your want doubled with the knowledge that Baekhyun was present.

Eventually, you turned to Yuyeon and finished singing the heartfelt song, while your brain was trying to ignore the fact that the person you imagined in this song was present in the room.

“Hey, thanks a lot for dropping by,” Sehun greeted Baekhyun when he walked over to him. Baekhyun had a slight smile on his lips.

“Happy birthday, buddy,” he wished and bumped fists before patting him on the shoulder. “You decided to keep a low image this year?” asked Baekhyun when Sehun pushed a red cup into his hand and sat next to Sehun, once again angled the way so that he could see your eyes the whole time.

Sehun raised a thick eyebrow before tipping his chin towards yours and Yuyeon's direction. “Is that what you call a low image?”

Baekhyun shook his head, but he was amused. He let his eyes wander back to you for a moment, just when you were getting off the table. One guy held your hand, helping you down while bulging his eyes at your breasts. Baekhyun suppressed the annoyance bubbling inside of him at the sight. “Did she have a lot to drink?”

“Well, she had enough to become her old self,” mumbled Sehun, taking a calculating sip from his beer. “Enough to want to make a scene, so I'd watch myself if I were you.”

“She hates me. I don't think she'll even acknowledge me.”

Sehun let out a snort and Baekhyun shot him a curious look. “That whole fucking song was about you. She acknowledged you just fine.”

Baekhyun let out a breathy laugh of disbelief. The images of meeting your heated gaze over the crowd while you were rolling your hips around left him just a little breathless. You were too sexy for Baekhyun. And too forbidden.

Before the both of them could fall into silence, Sehun said: “Did you resolve anything with Siamsa? I love you, dude, but I can't let your stupid ex ruin Nari anymore.”

Baekhyun wasn't surprised at the change of the topic. Sehun had been bugging him after he found out you were requested by Siamsa herself to be the MC of her short stage during the university festival.

Baekhyun was restless about the whole deal, especially after her unexpected visit at his place. About that he didn't tell the younger male, not wanting him to worry even more. “Don't worry, Sehunah, I have it under control.”

“Well, make sure you really do,” muttered Sehun as he leaned closer to Baekhyun. “She acts strong, but she is anything but that.”

It was two hours later when you found yourself in the crowd, dancing by yourself. Yuyeon wasn't around anymore, being snatched away by a guy while you were drinking shot by shot, enjoying yourself and at the same time desperately trying to stay sober because Baekhyun was lurking around. And that made your heart beat too wildly; the alcohol had nothing to do with it.

There were so many bodies around you, sweating and grinding against each other. It almost made you want to turn back until you felt someone’s front pressed to your back. Under normal circumstances you’d immediately pull away but his scent wafted over your senses and you just knew.

It was him.

His breath was on the back of your hair, a little irregular, and then you felt his feather touch on the inside of your arms as he trailed his fingertips over the sensitive skin of the inside of your elbows until he let them dance over your wrists and pushed the fingers through the slits of your hands, interlacing your fingers.

Spikes of electricity shot through your insides and you hummed though you knew he couldn’t hear you over the loud music. Involuntarily you pressed yourself back and his breath fanned your neck as he lowered his head.

There were so many things you should have done immediately; push him away or walk away but despite your turbulent emotions that kept clashing in a fight with brain and heart, you felt safe in his arms, in his presence and his touch. His nose traveled your cheek and he nuzzled the side of your face with his. Your heart was about to jump out of your rib cage. The urge to just turn and kiss him was so strong but ugh. You still hated him so much. So, so much. To the point you wanted to scream and shout and at the same time kiss him senseless and let him have his way with you.

“Why is it that whenever I try to avoid you, you appear?” he murmured into your ear and you tried to shimmy away from the ticklish feeling. “Why is it that whenever I’m with another one, you’re the one I see behind my closed eyes?” You felt the lightest of touches of his lips that were parted, so smooth and so alluring, teasing you on the side of your cheek. “Why is it always you, Lee Nari?”

You almost thought it wasn't real. It couldn't. Baekhyun would do anything but a move on you.

But one swift turn and you faced him, his eyes focused on yours. “And why is it always you, Byun Baekhyun?” you squeezed his fingers gently, still interlaced with yours.

“You should go and rest, Nari, you had enough to drink,” he told you suddenly, moving closer. He realized that booze was talking more than what he would have said under normal circumstances.

Breathily, you zoomed in on his lips, bewitched by the way they shaped whenever he said certain words. The would pucker and form a cute pout and-

“Nari, let's get you to sleep,” he repeated.

“Do you still want me, Baekhyun?” you asked instead, almost eagerly.

Baekhyun wasn't surprised, yet he didn't answer. You were intoxicated and he expected some kind of confrontation, but the longing in your eyes spoke volumes and he knew you wouldn't be slapping him tonight. He had only two cups of beer but he already knew he was acting braver than he should have. The need to kiss you and just be with you only grew and alcohol made his well preserved restraints weaker.

“You don't want me anymore, right?” you said, misunderstanding his silence. You stepped away. “If I would have wanted to build up the bridges you would have said no and still play with my feelings,” you whispered, heart-broken. Even though I still want you so bad…

><><><><

A/N: I do not know when will be the next update, sorry about that. Ive been focusing a lot on AY since my writing juices are overflowing for that story for now. Sorry to make you wait and I do hope you stick around ☺💛

This chapter is a little breaking point; next chapter the festival is going down! Poor Nari...

Here is my new curiouscat if you want to let me know your thoughts ^^

72 notes · View notes

loyally-unfaithful · 3 years

Text

—; it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas.

word count: 3.6k

pairing: razor/gn!reader; razor/traveler

genre: fluff

summary: « i remember… purple mentor say ‘mistletoe’ a big part of weihnachten. »

you looked at the plant in slight bewilderment, not quite sure what to make of this offering. it was cute.

« oh. »

razor stares expectantly at you as you watch him make no further attempt to move. you can’t help the laugh that escapes you, the banality of everything setting into your mind. or maybe you’re getting sleepy. you wonder: « do you know why, razor? »

a/n: secret santa secret santa secret santa anyway, this is my side of the secret santa gift for @absolutely-rational—i chose to write a thing for razor, but i barely play the game and i haven’t met him or own him* or anything so i apologise if it’s a little ooc ,,,, merry christmas and happy holidays ^^

p.s. as the man who’s good at saying very little in way too many words, the length of this fic just exploded and it’s alot longer than what i wanted it to be dskljfsldkja

heads-up

i write dialogues in what i will call the french/european system? anyway, i see that it's not the dialogue formatting that most english readers are accustomed to so i modified it slightly to be easier to understand basically dialogues will be within guillemets (« »), and words that are within the quotation marks but are italicised are actions and/or dialogue verbs.

hope that clears things out a bit and i hope you give me and my fic a chance :)

« weih… nachten…? »

he tilts his head slightly, not unlike a dog. what’s that? razor repeats your words slowly, tentatively, enunciating the foreign word with care. he wonders if the words sound strained coming from him. words are hard.

« that’s right! it’s a large festival in teyvat, and even more so in the city! you elaborated, sensing his confusion. here in mondstadt it’s called weihnachten and it’s supposed to be about, you know, spending time with friends and family, passing around gifts and presents to those you care about. »

you soon felt at ease as you continued: this world had its differences, but it had its similarities. it had its own equivalent of christmas. something that you know about. sure, maybe the origin is different, maybe it had different customs and traditions, but it was a comforting familiarity in the midst of everything that’s so staggeringly foreign. then again, you suppose that’s what drew you closer to the silver-haired boy: neither of you truly fit in, nor fully understood the strange world you happen to be in.

though at the very least, razor had his lupical. as bittersweet as it was, it warmed your heart to know that at least he had family to be around with during christmas, and well, around… in general.

« weihnachten. he says, this time with more conviction. how to celebrate? – well for starters, (where do you even begin?) we’d decorate our homes with all sorts of festive trinkets and we’d fill the streets with all sorts of sparkly things. garlands, lights, flowers, ribbons; decorations that’ll spruce up the place and make the city light up. it always made people cheer up and get in the holiday mood, especially at night when the fairy lights twinkle about! »

razor’s mouth moved in a silent gasp. then does that mean that those bright stars he liked so much were not stars, but rather lights? is that why they seemed to be brighter near the end of the year? the people from the city decorated, he considered. is that why the stars’ reflection, bouncing around in the lake, were an array of dazzling colours, from glittering red and shimmering green to captivating shade’s who’s name he doesn’t know?

« is why… sometimes stars explode? he wondered. – yup! though we don’t usually light up fireworks until new year’s. you wondered for a moment. do you like fireworks, razor? the silver-haired boy frowned, lost in thought, before shaking his head. – loud. scary. me and my lupical, we go hide. we don’t like… firework. »

you hummed in understanding. dogs have never been fond of fireworks and firecrackers either.

« fire is bad. why light firework? isn’t it big hassle? »

it reminded razor of the red, burny girl. fun person, friend! but the toys she uses are loud and dangerous, they create explosions and fire, just like fireworks.

« hmm, i guess… you pursed your lips in thought. good question. i guess that at this point we all just do it out of tradition. new year’s brings a lot of excitement, and people let it out by lighting them up. it’s also really pretty. »

the more he thought about it, and the more he learned about it, the less he understood the celebration. why? it’s loud and distracting. bright colours hurt eyes, doesn’t it? it’s time spent with your family, but razor is with his lupical everyday. do humans… not spend time with their lupical regularly? why is this specific day so special from the rest of the year? he doesn’t get all the funny dates and celebrations humans have to keep track of. seems like a big hassle. sounds complicated.

« no such thing as weihnachten in wolvendom, huh? »

he shook his head.

you tucked your finger under your chin, pondering, in slight puzzlement. back in your world, you would’ve been able to take pictures—maybe that would’ve helped him visualise it better—but you couldn’t here in teyvat. a sigh. anyway, it’s not like you had your camera on your person anymore, so you do your best to describe your happiest sensations, experiences, memories of christmas: the smell of hot cocoa on a cool winter morning, the crackle of firewood from the hearth, and the feeling of soft wool on your skin, hugging you from the biting cold. the merry and jovial carols sung by the star singers, the gleeful chattering between friends out on the street, and the boisterous cheering and partying coming from the many bars and restaurants in mondstadt. the comforting arias and prayers echoing from within the cathedral, the mouth-watering aroma and fragrance of treats from the christmas market, and the grand christmas tree placed at the heart of the city decorated with even more opulent and lavish garlands and baubles, the vivid glimmering lights reflected from your eyes.

describe the different little things that made christmas different and more special from the rest of the year.

somehow this time that you took to pay the wolf boy a visit was consumed by you rambling about the merry holiday, drivel that he listened to attentively and with a pure and honest kind of curiosity (even if he doesn’t always understand you) that you found endearing and made your heart flutter, until the sun dipped below the horizon and the stars adorning the city shined out, rivalling those peppering the night sky. until the howls from his family called him away from you, and until you motivated yourself to begin your trek back to mondstadt after sitting in the woods alone.

being with him was always a welcome distraction, you thought.

december 25th.

paimon was dozing off after stuffing her face full of the dishes from the christmas banquet (good for her!), the cup of tea you had between your hands had gotten cold, and your breath was fogging the frosted window in front of your desk. you mindlessly traced a smiley face on condensation. you can see the ever changing colourful lights blinking through the glass pane. you take another gulp of the unpleasant liquid, unsatisfying as you feel it slowly go down your throat. the calming and comforting scent it brought (it was chamomile) having long dissipated.

sighing, you pulled your fingers off the cold china, deciding it wasn’t worth finishing, and quietly slipped out of your room (which was graciously granted to you by the knights of favonius), taking care to slot the chair back under the desk and gently close the door behind you. you wondered if taking a walk would help you feel better. you tightened your shawl around you and buried your freezing hands into your pockets. head down, you quickened your pace to… wherever your legs were taking you.

another sigh.

you smiled almost bitterly to how much of a grinch you were being. you liked christmas, or rather, you liked what it stood for, and you liked the idea of spending the winter months with your closed ones.

a few hours ago, the knights of favonius had organised a small christmas party at angel’s share, and though they had thoroughly reassured you that you belonged and were included in this celebration, you couldn’t help but keep to yourself and stick to a corner of the bar. you couldn’t bring yourself to join in on the fun, or talk to others. you didn’t feel like it was your place to force yourself into their conversation, into their lives. you were grateful that they thought about you, and you didn’t want to question their kindness, but… you nursed your glass of virgin cocktail, peeling your eyes away from your wonky reflection on the liquid.

you weren’t exactly at home: you looked at jean and barbara, happily exchanging jokes and teases. a relaxed sort of conversation, banter which flowed, almost as if it were rehearsed, in a way that was only possible between sisters. that night, the deaconess wasn’t smiling as if she was holding back tears. the carefree girl was speaking with jean (rather than the acting grand master) who allowed herself some respite from the demanding position.

you look at the uncharacteristic smile on the bartender’s (who happened to be none other than diluc that evening) face, and you doubted that kaeya, sharp-eyed as ever, missed it either. it was subtle. but it was there. you don’t miss the way the cavalry captain held back on his sarcastic remarks or the way diluc wasn’t being “deliberately uncivil” (as kaeya would put it) either; the way the red-head indulges kaeya’s seemingly insatiable thirst for alcohol while the latter makes an effort to maintain a friendly, if curt, chatter.

a particularly loud giggle drew your gaze back at the two sisters: lisa seemed to have joined them. you sipped your beverage, half-hearted. the three seemed to have started a rather animate discussion. you hear them laugh again. it makes you frown, but you shake your head, pushing those angry thoughts out of your mind. just because you’re miserable (even though you shouldn’t be—your friends are with you) doesn’t mean they have to feel down with you.

setting your glass down on the table, you wondered if you would've felt better if you were with someone closer to your age, but amber had gone home early: she dropped by and hung out for a bit before going home to spend time with her family. your glass is empty now. you feel… envious. you wished you could spend this christmas season with your family. it’s not fair. it’s not fair.

your favonian family, and yet you were out of place.

you excused yourself early from the gathering, the other members politely bidding you farewell and a merry christmas (« frohe weichnachten! »), and quickly went up the path leading to the order’s headquarters, wanting to hide away in your room as soon as possible.

now, you stop before the lavish tree: it’s as grand and brilliant as it’s always been. but now it seems much too bright. the colours an eyesore. singing sounds more like knives being dug into your eardrums.

your head hurts.

a humourless chuckle escaped you. you used to take turns with your sibling on who got to slot in the christmas topper.

this year was their turn.

back then, your sibling made a point to hang gingerbread treats on the tree, and you made a point to eat them behind their back come christmas morning.

normally, you’d be sharing gifts with your sibling during this time of the year.

your entire life they’ve always been there by your side, and you by theirs. for better or for worse, you kept each other company. you’ve always spent christmas with them.

this was your first christmas without.

the rest of your thoughts are jumbled, incoherent. something your long term memory didn’t deem worthy of keeping, so they simply fizzled away. everything was a blur as your feet carried you outside the city, away from… it doesn't matter. just away. carried you away. happiest time of the year. but you’re here alone, with no one you know and to call home in a world you don’t recognise. far away from the land you once knew.

panting, you stopped in your tracks when you realised you’ve started sprinting. what were you doing, you chastised yourself. can’t you act a little more mature? finally lifting your gaze, you took in your surroundings; instinctively your feet must’ve taken you to wolvendom. you kicked a stray pebble under your boot. not like that afterthought was going to help much. it’s not like anyone was waiting for you here either, razor was probably with his lupical. hunting or snoozing away.

with little care, you let out an exasperated sigh as you let yourself plop ungracefully to the ground, listless.

you sit there in silence, nothing to accompany you except for the cacophonous ringing of crickets in the forest. you drew your knees closer to you. what were you doing here? it’s cold. you hear thistle crack, and so you defensively draw your sword as you rose to your feet, only to be met with a familiar mop of fluffy silver hair.

« it’s night. dangerous here. »

was his curt greeting. you lowered your sword, shoulders relaxing.

you opened your mouth, ready to apologise, make up some sort of excuse, let him know you’re leaving, when something else caught your eye: « you kept the scarf? »

he blinked. once, twice: « you gave it to me. he said, very matter-of-factly. you are my lupical. it is… treasure… razor paused, correcting himself. treasured, possession. »

having realised that the intruder was not dangerous, the wolf boy came closer and gently pressed his forehead against yours and nuzzled your face. a small laugh escaped you as you returned the affectionate gesture, something you’ve learned was his customary greeting. it was cold out, but his touch was enough to bring feeling back to your cold self and make you warm and fuzzy inside.

still resting your head on his, you asked, timidly: « is it ok if i stay here for a bit? » it came out as a whisper, unsure if you’re any better staying here rather than back in the city. but as he nodded in agreement, your shoulders loosened as you let go of tension you weren’t aware you were building up again. you slumped into him, burying your face into him and held him in a loose hug. razor, as for him, let himself be snuggled to your heart’s content, happy to receive such fondness.

« today is special day, isn’t it? » his blood-red eyes peered inquisitively back at you, arms wrapping around you as he tries to remain as close to you as physically possible.

« mhm. » you mumbled non-commitally into his shoulder, opting to pull yourself closer to him and nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

« not go celebrate in city? » razor asked, perplexed. he thought that you said this was a big celebration to be had around other people? despite his bemusement, he rested his chin on the top of your head. it makes him all warm and soft inside, the thought of you choosing to spend this special day with him of all people. it makes him happy. he hopes you’re happy too. the wold boy gives you a once-over and his brows creased in slight worry: you’re really quiet today. why?

« uh-uh. » you grunted, shaking your head against his shoulder, your hair brushing against his clothes. the chunky scarf you gave him, the one you were convinced he was going to throw out due to its garish colours, tickled your exposed skin. he kept it. you smiled, touched. he kept it. it still smelled faintly of fabric softener, but marked by the smell of pine trees and something sweet, something you associated with brewing thunderstorms. you’ve always found rain and thunder to be comforting.

being with razor comforts you.

he wasn’t much of a talker. you both knew this. silence is ok though. he’s happy to be with you. but razor wonders why you’re so quiet today. concern flashes through his mind and he turns your gaze upwards, making you face him. you can’t possibly imagine what pathetic expression you were pulling and you quickly try to cover your despondence—but it was a fruitless venture.

« you smell sad. he watched you, a worried look on his face. »

you scrambled for some explanation, reassuring him that it’s nothing. that you’re not being a downer. that you’re happy. but he’s decided: « wait here. »

knowing that there was no restraining him once he’s made up his mind, especially when it’s something to do with the ones he considered close to him, you reluctantly let razor peel you off of him. as you watch him scurry away, you find yourself dearly missing his warmth, the comfort and safety of his arms. was staying here a good idea? you wrapped your arms around yourself. maybe you should leave. you’re ruining the mood. you’re disturbing wolvendom’s peace. before you could finish that line of thought, the wolf boy returned, this time carrying a handful of… something with him.

they threatened to tumble out of his grasp, but ultimately stayed put as he returned to his original position and held them out into your general direction, showcasing whatever he had procured. in his hands were multiple plants which bore small scarlet berries and oval, evergreen leaves. a plant you immediately recognised.

« i remember… purple mentor say ‘mistletoe’ a big part of weihnachten. »

you looked at the plant in slight bewilderment, not quite sure what to make of this offering. it was cute.

« oh. »

he blinked, clueless, before looking at the mistletoes in his hand with confusion, coming to the realisation that no, he didn’t actually know why it’s so important. it’s not edible. maybe because it’s pretty? the city has many red lights and white lights. some mistletoes are red and others are white?

he continues to stare at the berry, as if it would cave in and reveal its secrets to him if he sustained his efforts. taking his prolonged silence as his answer (though you had expected for him to not actually know—knowing lisa, she would’ve just offhandedly mentioned them. and when razor would’ve asked her about what they meant, she’d just smile without answering him), you filled him in, your voice filled with mirth: « people usually kiss underneath mistletoes. »

he turned his gaze back to you before voicing the conclusion he had come to: « this mean, i have to kiss you? »

you chuckled. « only if you want to. »

he looks at the plant, giving it a long hard look, then back at you.

it wasn’t much, it wasn’t spectacular. hell, it was more of a ghost of a kiss than anything. but you still smiled as his lips brushed on yours. a peck, which lasted too long yet not long enough. awkward, but endearing. your textbook first kiss, including the warm fluttery feeling of butterflies that so often preached about, if only a little more clumsy.

it’s cute.

he’s so genuine, earnest, in his endeavours. it makes your heart soar. he’s sweet. you don’t deserve this kindness but he gives them away without a second thought.

you don’t deserve to be happy during christmas, especially not when your sibling was still out there, alone and potentially afraid. maybe, no, it definitely is selfish for you to enjoy this day. pretend like everything is alright just for this one moment. that you’re not some traveler stuck in a strange and unknown world, that you’re not desperately trying to find your sibling and a way out. act carefree, and get to be you. but goddammit does he make you so so happy that your heart clenches and that you can’t help but smile from ear to ear. you deserve to be miserable today; you feel like shit, really. but you’re also really happy, and glad, and relieved, and maybe a little tired.

it’s all too much, and you feel so much at once that you just don’t know how to handle this anymore. overwhelmed. you smiled and laughed giddily as the waterworks started (despite your best efforts), and you’re a mess, and definitely a bit sleepy, but you’re stupidly happy today. stupidly happy because of him.

this alarmed the boy, watching you laugh between hiccups, sobbing despite wearing a large smile. for humans, tears are sad. smiles are happy. were you ok? he’s confused. did he do something wrong?

« why crying? » he fretted, slightly panicked. he jumped to fuss over you, wipe away your tears, gently cradling your face with a gentleness that you would’ve never thought he was capable of when you first met.

you laughed as you wiped your face. « these are happy tears. » you try to explain.

he’s your home. your lupical. someone you’re at rest with, and safe with. you love him.

your words get caught in your throat, unable to express everything you want to tell him. so instead, you engulf him in a hug. something he was caught off guard from, stiffening, but quickly relaxed and embraced you back. still a little unsure, he comforts and reassures you the only way he knows how: patting your head. when he’s down head pats makes him feel better. he hopes you’ll feel better.

« thank you. » you said softly, shakily, sniffling. thank you for being here. thank you for being you.

you’re not as alone as you thought, you never really were. together, in your own small corner of the world. your home: razor.

as you cuddled together, passing the time by naming and pointing at the celestial canvas above you, you realised: maybe this year, as unfortunate as it had been, didn’t have to end on a bad note. at some point, razor had shared his ridiculously large scarf with you, wrapping it around the both of you. and slowly, your words slowed, your breaths evened out. you pressed more of your weight against him as you felt your eyes droop. you’re safe. you’re with razor. you’ll fall asleep, and when you wake up he’ll be there. as drowsiness takes you over, you think to yourself ‘yeah, i’m happy.’

you’re happy here. in this one time, one place, with razor, you’re happy.

and you hope that wherever they are, your sibling is happy too. and that they’ll forgive you for being selfish, for being happy despite everything.

you hoped that your mirror image had someone to spend christmas with.

somewhere—someone they felt at rest with.

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#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #razor x reader #genshin x reader #razor genshin impact #falselywrites #hope you like it ^^#trigger warning for bad use of german lmaoo #op learned about german and suddenly acts like hes an expert #if i knew mondstadt had so many references to german i wouldve paid more attention to duolingo #btw its implied established relationship but its not mentioned lol

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canyouhearthelight · 3 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 118

Winding down to the end of 2020, when there will be an announcement regarding the story. No worries: I’m not stopping at the end of the year!

First, thanks for this chapter go to: @zommbiebro for Jokul, @wildforestferret for Hannah, @baelpenrose for Alistair and being an amazing Beta Reader/writing partner, and @raven-fae for originally giving me the NERVE to start posting this so long ago. I never imagined that a one-off response to a writing prompt would become so much!

Housekeeping stuff: I updated the Master List and the page links over the weekend (whew), and also finished all the chapters that will post through the end of the year! Much excite, so relief.

Rushing between appointments, I was trying to multitask by looking over one of the files for the cooking class volunteers. Quiet beeps in the back of my mind should have reminded me to watch where I was going as I kept setting off proximity warnings in people I nearly ran into. I was so focused on my task that I ignored the mutters around me of how rude I was being, until the alert suddenly started getting louder and louder, practically screaming before I snapped out of my trance and stopped walking.

In front of me was a familiar set of broad shoulders, and just past him was a wall that I nearly ran us both into. “Conor, what are you doing?” I asked, started to see him seemingly just staring at a wall and humming away.

He turned toward me with a grin, dropping a kiss on the top of my head in greeting. “I didn’t realize that was you,” he answered. “I heard someone coming, but figured they would either turn or rather run into me than the wall.”

“And why are you staring at the wall?”

“Wasn’t staring,” he corrected. “I was working on this.” He stepped aside with a flourish, revealing one of the wall-tanks set up throughout the Ark for Else. Soft yellow motes drifted in the tank, evidence of Else’s continued breakneck evolution. However, this tank had something new in it…

“You put snowflakes in there?” I asked, confused.

He ran a hand through his hair and laughed. “When Sam, Derek, and I started putting out the Insert Winter Holiday decorations this week, Else got curious and asked what we were doing. Derek explained - he talks to them better than I do - and they wanted something in their habitat, too, like we have.”

“And you decided on snowflakes?”

“Else picked that, actually. They are very curious about snow, since they developed… well, here, where there is no weather…”

“I guess that is fair.” Suddenly, I felt rude for talking about Else like they weren’t present. I still hadn’t gotten in the habit of speaking directly to them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you…” I cringed a little inside.

Is okay, Else replied. We are not offended. Will we see real snow one day?

I thought about it. “Probably? Von has atmosphere, and the nights are long enough that the temperature probably gets really cold. It may have the right conditions for snow.”

Many humans think snow is beautiful. We would like to see snow.

“You and me both, buddy,” I admitted. “I love it.”

Conor shuddered. “No thank you. You can keep your cold mush.” Checking his databand, he groaned. “I have to get going. See you later, Else.” He dropped another kiss on my head. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he promised.

“No bruises?”

“No bruises.”

I smiled before jumping to check the time myself. “Shit,” I swore softly. “Else, I gotta go, too. I have an appointment five minutes ago.”

Humans can time travel?

“I wish,” I muttered, practically running to get there on time. I prayed that Alistair kept Hannah busy while I raced to our interview.

I showed up breathless and dishevelled, but only ten minutes late. Great first impression you’re giving, I scolded myself as I tried to get my hair somewhat more tidy and catch my breath. Straightening, I scanned my datapad and entered my office.

Hannah was nodding seriously at something Alistair was saying, and all I could do was pray he wasn’t telling her some embarrassing story about me. Both of them looked up as I entered, and Hannah approached me to shake my hand. “Hello, Sophia! Or should I address you as Councillor. I’m not entirely sure…”

“Sophia is fine,” I reassured her. “Did Alistair explain why I asked you to meet with me today?”

She shook her head. “No, we were just talking about Zachary’s work with Councilor Ranganathan.”

“That is part of it,” I agreed. “Zach is one of several people who Pranav is mentoring, hoping to build a pool of candidates to fill his position in the future. I asked you to meet with me to see if you would be interested in doing the same, with me?”

Her eyes widened. “You want me… to learn your job?”

“I assure you, it is much safer than I make it look.” I tried to sound confident, but was already bracing for her to reject the position.

“It’s not that - “ Wait, what? “I just. Do you really think I could?”

“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think you could do it,” I assured her, somewhat dumbfounded. Recovering quickly, I pushed on. “I want to be clear - this is an elected position, so there is no guarantee that you would be my successor. The goal of the mentorship is to help you decide if you even want to do it, at all, along with ensuring that the Ark has the opportunity to choose between people who definitely know how to do the job. And more importantly, want to do the job.”

Alistair picked up from there. “In the Before, if you remember, many elections were decisions based on which candidate would do the least harm, rather than the most good. The Council is trying to change that.”

She nodded in understanding. “So there would be other people you are mentoring?”

So far, so good. “Hopefully three, yes.”

“Will you be working with us at the same time?”

“If all three of you accept, I am hoping to work with each of you one day per week individually, and the rest collectively,” I confirmed. “More specific than that, I will meet with all of you to explain once I know who has accepted. But I wanted to extend the offer in person, so I can answer any questions you may have.”

Hannah nodded again. “Would we be working the same hours you do?”

I was very glad Alistair and I already thought that part through, along with Tyche’s input. “Initially, no. You would only work half of my shift, and what half would be at my discretion. However, this would be considered your job allotment, so you would not have to worry about any schedule conflicts. The only reason I will be deciding which half of my shift you work is because it may change due to Council meetings that you may not be privy to, or if there is nothing beneficial to your learning happening during the other half.”

“Why only half?” She asked.

“Councilors generally work double shifts,” Alistair advised her. When her eyes widened again, he continued, “In my experience, as her assistant, she will never ask you to work as much as she does, but she is very insistent that if she is not working, neither are you.”

I shook my head at him. “What he isn’t explaining is that there are also often large gaps in my day when I have no appointments and no paperwork to go through. So being in the office for sixteen to twenty hours sounds grueling, but I am rarely here the entire time. That’s just the window when people are allowed to set appointments, or when the Council can convene outside of emergencies.”

Her shoulders sagged with relief. “I was honestly about to walk out until you explained that a bit better.”

I leaned over to Alistair and hissed. “People skills!”

“Professionalism…” he murmured back.

Hannah smiled at our antics. “Another question: What exactly do you do?”

I groaned, and Alistair smirked at me. Jokul had been so right on that point that it wasn’t even funny. “Since Zach is shadowing Pranav, I’m going to assume you know how the parts about voting in Council sessions works, right?” She nodded. “Okay, so that’s the big part that most people know about. They vote on an issue, their votes go to their representative Councilor, who votes on their behalf, short version. On a day to day basis, each Councilor is responsible for heading up everything on the Ark in a certain field. For me, that’s any large scale events, staffing, or major adjustments to how people are able to live their day-to-day lives. I have one assistant,” I gestured to Alistair, “and an Administrator, my sister Tyche. She handles all of the small staffing concerns, because she is amazing at it.”

“So… Insert Winter Holiday, the annual Food festival…?”

I nodded. “Along with the gravity changes, the day cycle changes, the proximity alerts, creating and maintaining quiet rooms, finding people to back fill gaps caused by large projects or initiatives, large scale announcements to the ship, et cetera.”

“That’s… a lot…” She bit her bottom lip in concern.

“Really, it’s a handful of major events each year, plus the daily stuff. And I work really closely with the other Councilors, largely because once most projects are past a staffing point, it falls under their jurisdiction to execute.”

Slowly, she nodded. “Okay…” After a moment, she nodded much more firmly. “Okay, I’ll try it.”

One down, two to go, I cheered in my head as I resisted the urge to scream with joy.

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wesawbears · 3 years

Text

My @geraskierholidayexchange gift for @keepcalmandexpectopatronum934. I hope you enjoy! This ended up being inspired by the movie Elf. Happy holidays!

In and out Jaskier, he told himself as he adjusted his new work uniform. This was just a temporary gig until he got back on his feet. Besides, it was performance experience, in a way. Perhaps not the kind he’d been expecting, but he’d learned long ago to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

Or a gift paycheck, as it were.

With a good luck jingle of his hat and a final tug on his elf ears to ensure they stayed in place, he headed inside to a Christmas wonderland.

More accurately, it was a mall toy store, but hey. Magic! Christmas spirit! Jaskier had never been fussy.

He looked around, glancing at the children milling about, exasperated parents trying to keep them from knocking everything off the shelves. Jaskier supposed he should be grateful, considering cleaning up their messes was now part of his job. Not seeing a manager around, he found the first employee he could see.

The man was tall, with snow white hair tucked up underneath an elf hat similar to Jaskier’s. He was hanging ornaments on a tree in the center of the store, likely ones that some of the running children had knocked over in their haste. He leaned down to pick up a stray ornament the man had missed, hoping to extend it as a token of goodwill toward his fellow employee.

“I love the way you hang those ornaments. Truly an, uh, inspiring show of elfdom.”

The other man stared back at him like he was a space alien, which, okay, fair, that wasn’t one of Jaskier’s better introductions, but what was he supposed to say?

“I’m working on this alone. Go away before Emhyr finds you and fires you.”

“Sorry. Just a bit turned around. I’m Jaskier.” He stuckout his hand, only to realize that his coworker had his hands full.

“Geralt,” the other man said, not glancing away from the tree.

“Nice to meet you! Do you happen to know where the manager might be then?”

As if on cue, another voice sounded behind him. “Geralt, those ornaments are supposed to be spaced apart at 3.8 in.”

“I can’t measure that in my head-”

“Figure it out.” the unfamiliar man turned to Jaskier. “You’re new. Follow me.”

Jaskier gave a last sympathetic glance back to Geralt, before following the manager to the back room.

Well, at least if he was working here for the season, he would have some eye candy while he did it.

It didn’t take long for Jaskier to learn Emhyr hated his fucking guts, and that he would undoubtedly be out of a job come January, but he didn’t mind too much. Being a hated employee ensured that he worked closing shift, which meant he got to work with Geralt. They’d fallen into somewhat of a routine over the last few weeks, cleaning while Jaskier changed the Christmas music to his carefully curated Spotify playlists, which Geralt steadfastly ignored. He’d learned that Geralt worked outdoors, so his job at the local nature preserve didn’t need him during the winter. He also knew that the only reason Emhyr hadn’t fired Geralt for his grumpy nature was that Geralt was Emhyr’s daughter Ciri’s godfather, in an arrangement far too complex for Jaskier to comprehend. In turn, he told Geralt about his performance aspirations, along with every other thought that came to his mind. Geralt didn’t say much, but he listened and made dry comments every so often and Jaskier was in love with him.

Jaskier had always fallen easily, it’s true, but that didn’t take away the flutter in his heart each time one of Geralt’s small smiles was sent his way, a wry laugh into a bottle of water as they waited for the time to switch to ten so they could lock up.

On one such night, the week before Christmas, Jaskier perched himself on the counter, watching Geralt finish cleaning the last of the displays. “Thank you, dearest. You know you’re so much better at organizing those than I am, and I’m pretty sure I’m one fuck up away from getting fired.”

Geralt snorted. “Emhyr won’t fire you. He still needs a warm body in the store and no one else will take night shift.”

“Except you. What is the deal with him anyway? He doesn’t seem the...toy store type. Seems more like a...retail baron to me.”

“He’s not. He’s a regional finance manager. They just couldn’t find anyone else to run the store this year. That’s why he’s being pissier than usual.”

“That...makes more sense. But he gets to see your smiling face, so, you know, a jolly time.”

Geralt huffed a laugh. “Yeah. He’s thrilled to see me. I’m sure my work ethic is what’s keeping him from spiking my eggnog at Christmas this year.”

“Has he...is that a legitimate worry?”

“No. At least, I don’t think so. Probably not.”

“That family dynamic will never make sense to me.”

Geralt sighed and leaned against the counter. “We make it work. For Ciri.”

“Is she excited for Christmas?”

“She is. Between here and spending time with her, I can’t get away from it.”

Jaskier frowned. “You don’t like Christmas?”

Geralt shrugged. “It just...wasn’t a big deal for me growing up.”

“That’s so sad!” Jaskier loved Christmas. Though he didn’t really spend time with his family anymore, he had fond memories of the annual Christmas party- the music, the desserts, the presents. Just the general feeling that all was right with the world.

“It’s fine. It’s just another day.”

“How are you making me even sadder?”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Dramatic.”

“Of course,” Jaskier answered with a small flourish. “Geralt! I have an idea!”

“Careful. Wouldn’t want to hurt yourself.”

Jaskier huffed. “I’ll show you the magic of Christmas! I”ll be like...your Christmas elf! Your spirit advisor.”

“That sounds horrible.”

“You are so mean to me. I don’t know why I put up with you.”

Geralt shot him an incredulous look, but acquiesced. “What would...that...entail?”

“First rule of Christmas from your official spirit advisor: Christmas is about surprises.”

“I hate surprises.”

“That’s the spirit!”

They decided to hold their Christmas adventure two days later, since Emhyr had told them their services weren’t needed due to a school group volunteering to work as “Santa’s Elves” that day. They met up at the mall at 3, when they usually started work. Jaskier was decked (the halls) out in a very shiny Christmas sweater, while Geralt was in his finest funeral blacks. He had dressed warmly though, as requested, so Jaskier wasn’t going to complain too much.

“Ready, star pupil?”

“No. But I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“You do not.”

“Hmm.”

They headed out into the cold. The mall was just a short walk away from the rest of town, and Jaskier figured they could look at the lights on the way there. “My mom and sisters and I would always go walk around and try to pick our favorite lights every year. I thought we could try that. As an easy intro activity.”

Geralt glanced around, furrow in his brow. “They all look the same.”

“They do not! It’s like you’re not even trying.”

“Then show me what you see, spirit advisor.”

“Fine,” Jaskier huffed. “Those ones, over there. They look like icicles on the trees. I like them because they sparkle off the snow and from far away, they just...ooze Christmas.”

“Hmm.”

“But I also like the more colorful ones. You can’t tell me that seeing lights everywhere doesn’t leave you feeling the least bit festive?”

“They’re just...bright.”

“Fine, sir humbug. Be difficult.”

They made their way into town, Jaskier showing him different lights, and Geralt remaining unmoved. He felt it was truly a lot cause when Geralt made a noise next to him. “Those ones.”

“Which ones?”

“There. Next to the coffee shop.”

There was a small display, only the barest flash of lights that looked like holly and ivy. They were much more subdued than anything Jaskier picked out, but he couldn’t bring himself to dull Geralt’s small bit of enthusiasm. “They’re lovely. See, you’re getting the hang of it!”

“I’m also getting cold.”

“There’s just no pleasing you. Well, I suppose we could stop for a cup of hot chocolate.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier led them inside, ordering a large hot chocolate for himself, while Geralt ordered a black coffee.

“Geralt! Come on, you have to get something at least a little Christmas-y.”

“Fine. One pump of peppermint.”

“Oh for the love of God.”

He allowed Geralt his approximation of holiday cheer and sat at one of the tables. He watched smugly as Geralt took a sip and held back a grimace at his concoction.

“How is it?”

“People put peppermint in coffee all the time. How do they like this?”

“Well, usually there’s also chocolate…”

“Too sweet.”

“Unfortunate,” Jaskier said, taking a large sip of his hot chocolate.

“Jaskier...I...appreciate you doing this for me, but I think I’m just not meant for-”

“For Christmas? For nice things?”

“It’s just not my thing.”

Jaskier pursed his lips. “Well, be that as it may, I am your spirit advisor, and I did promise. At least allow me to try one more thing.”

Geralt nodded. Bolstered by his reaction, Jaskier pulled a small box out of his jacket.

“What’s that?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a very good Christmas demonstration without a present, would it?”

“I don’t have anything for you.”

Jaskier waved his hand. “Seeing your face as you open this is gift enough. Open it!”

Geralt took the box wearily and unwrapped it carefully. Jaskier had half expected him to tear the wrapping paper apart, but instead he carefully untucked and smoothed out every edge. Inside was a small ornament, in the shape of a lion’s paw. Geralt stared at it quietly and Jaskier felt himself fidget.

“I know you call Ciri your little lion cub sometimes. I overheard you on the phone with her, and, you know, maybe I overstepped…”

“Jaskier. Thank you. It’s...perfect.”

He looked up and saw Geralt with a soft smile, only this time it was only for Jaskier and he felt his heart melt. “You’re very, very welcome, Geralt,” he said, reaching out to clasp their hands together.

Geralt looked at their joined hands and slowly brought them to his lips. He kissed the back of Jaskier’s hand and he felt himself flush like a maiden in a period piece. Gracious, it was warm in here.

“Geralt…”

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling his hand away. “I shouldn’t have…”

“You missed.”

The furrow in his brow was back. “What?”

Jaskier smiled. “You missed. Let me show you.”

He leaned forward and kissed Geralt softly, letting him take the lead and move forward to capture Jaskier’s lips fully. It was a bit minty and the angle was wrong, but Jaskier felt his heart swell anyway. It was perfectly Geralt.

They pulled away, and Jaskier smiled at the uncharacteristic flush across Geralt’s cheeks.

“Well,” he broke the silence, “I suppose my work here is done.”

“How’s that?”

“Nothing says Christmas like a Christmas kiss.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Jaskier laughed and stood. “You should know I always am, darling. Now, come on! We don’t want to miss the ice skating rink…”

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskier holiday exchange #keepcalmandexpectopatronum934

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no6secretsanta · 3 years

Text

Don't Say It

Hello and happy holidays to you, @glorifiedscapegoat! I hope you enjoy this cheerful little modern AU fic I wrote for you! I always love writing Nezumi and Shion as carefree teens in a world that isn’t trying to destroy them (we all deserve some peace this year, even the bee boys), and I promise a happy ending!

<3 @weiselzelle

******

For someone who disliked Christmas as much as he did, Nezumi had decorated an awful lot of Christmas cookies, six dozen, to be precise. He’d also listened to the Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack four times in a row, going on a fifth. Soon, he’d be watching an equally cheesy Christmas movie. It wasn’t by choice. Not exactly, anyway—

It had all started in kindergarten, the year he’d met Shion. They’d become fast friends, and the prospect of not seeing his best friend over winter break had been too much for Shion’s young heart to bear. As a solution, their parents had arranged a playdate over the holidays. Shion had been determined to celebrate Christmas with Nezumi as much as possible, so their day had included as many Christmastime activities as possible. The experience, quite frankly, had been exhausting. Unfortunately, it had only been the start of a long tradition.

Now, if Nezumi had things his way, they’d simply do what they always did when they hung out and nothing extra… but intentionally ignoring Christmas would make Shion sad, which defeated the entire purpose of spending a day together. That was why Nezumi put up with the whole ordeal year after year, and this time was no different.

“So, you still haven’t told me what you want for Christmas,” Shion said as he delicately placed some of the cookies into a shiny, festive tin. “And you can’t say ‘I’ll think on it’ this time, okay? Christmas is in a few days.”

Nezumi picked up a pinch of snowflake sprinkles from a dish and dropped them unceremoniously onto an iced cookie. “I’ll think—”

Shion glared at him before he could even finish the sentence, and Nezumi couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, listen, I know I said I’d think on it, but the truth is, I forgot. You know how busy I was before break started,” Nezumi explained.

Shion’s expression softened and he returned to decorating cookies alongside Nezumi. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I didn’t bug you about it sooner. But I really do need an answer today.”

“Well…” Nezumi sighed and looked off. “How about you tell me what you want? I still have to get you a present, and maybe it’ll give me some ideas for what I want, too.” He normally prided himself— secretly— in coming up with clever gifts for Shion, but with Christmas in only a few days, simply asking seemed like his best option.

“Me? Um!” Shion seemed awfully surprised by the question. Judging by the growing blush on his face, however, it was more than just surprise.

Nezumi smirked and leaned closer to his friend. “You’re blushing, Shion. Is it something really dorky?”

Shion looked down, clearly hesitating. “Uh, you’d probably call it that, yeah…”

Nezumi waited for Shion to say more. “…Well? What is it?” he asked, and raised an eyebrow.

“Um…” Shion smiled nervously and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, still not looking at Nezumi.

Once again, Nezumi sighed. “You’re going to make me guess, aren’t you?”

“I suppose you could try,” Shion replied quietly with a small shrug. His face was as red as ever.

Nezumi smirked. “I’ll take that as a challenge.” He rubbed his chin as he thought. “Hmm, something so dorky that you’d blush about it in front of me… This may be difficult.”

While Nezumi thought about where to start his questioning, Shion began to slowly decorate another cookie.

“Can it fit in a backpack?” Nezumi asked, watching Shion’s expression closely.

“No.”

“What about a locker, then?”

Shion blinked, his eyebrows drawing together slightly. “Um… no? I don’t think so, anyway.”

“And you think I can afford it?” Nezumi asked with a laugh.

“I mean—” Shion laughed as well, though rather nervously. “Y-Yeah.”

Nezumi gave a skeptical look. “You sure about that?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay…” Nezumi picked up one of the cookies he’d decorated and took a bite as he thought. “Is it… something I even know exists?”

Shion laughed a little again. “Yes.” It was the most certain answer he’d gotten yet.

“Okay, so it’s something I obviously know about, judging by that reaction,” Nezumi scoffed. “It’s something that could be put in a box, right?”

“W-Well, I guess so…”

Nezumi frowned. “I mean that it’s an actual object, not like the gift of going somewhere with you or whatever.”

“I guess we could go somewhere for my present,” Shion suggested with a smile Nezumi could only call coy. Of course, very few people even could recognize coyness from Shion. Nezumi knew, though. Shion was up to something.

Nezumi narrowed his eyes. “Second thoughts about challenging me?”

“We could go ice skating again. It’s been years since we last went.”

“We could not go ice skating again,” Nezumi retorted. “I’m not having you pull me down on the ice every five minutes.”

“You are taller than me now, aren’t you?”

Nezumi eyed Shion suspiciously. His latest growth spurt had been a bit of a sore spot for Shion, so why would he bring it up now? “I sure as hell am, you little runt.”

Shion’s blush fully returned and he averted his eyes. “S-So, that means I wouldn’t make you fall if I lost my balance, right?”

Crossing his arms, Nezumi leaned back in his seat. “I see… Finding the advantages to being your fun-sized self?”

“You know, I never made fun of you this much when you were the shorter one,” Shion said, slathering a bit too much icing onto a large, snowflake-shaped cookie.

Nezumi watched as Shion then dumped an excess of sprinkles onto the cookie. “Oh, come on. You always thought I needed to be protected or something when I was smaller than you, even though you knew I could’ve kicked your ass no problem. I’m going to enjoy this change as much as I wa—”

Shion abruptly shoved the cookie into Nezumi’s mouth, or at least as much of it as he could fit. As soon as it happened, Nezumi cupped his hand under the cookie in a desperate attempt to catch the sprinkles and dripping icing. While Nezumi struggled to eat the messy cookie that was now his responsibility not to get everywhere, Shion returned to decorating more cookies.

“And what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t care about your safety?” Shion asked, though he clearly wasn’t expecting an answer from Nezumi, not after shoving food into his mouth. “Anyway, I think ice skating would work out better now, so— ah!”

Nezumi smeared the icing that had dripped onto his hand across Shion’s cheek. “Here, you dropped something.”

Shion stared in shock for a moment before swiping a bit of icing from the bowl onto his fingertip. Nezumi had a good idea of where that finger was headed. As it drew closer to his face, he opened his mouth and caught Shion’s sugary finger between his teeth. The icing was sweet on his tongue, but Nezumi savored the expression on his friend’s face far more.

“Nezumi!” Shion squeaked when his finger was finally free.

“Yes?”

Shion gawked at his hand as if he’d never seen it before.

“…Yes, Shion?” Nezumi asked again.

“Um!” Shion blinked and shook his head. “W-We should both probably wash our hands before we decorate any more cookies,” he stammered.

Nezumi snorted out a laugh and followed Shion over to the kitchen sink. While he waited for his turn at the faucet, he bumped Shion’s hip with his own. For some reason, that always put a smile on Shion’s face. “Back to my guesses. Is it something I can buy?” he asked.

“Uh, n-no,” Shion replied, his eyes going wide. He turned away as he dried his hands.

“So it’s something I have to make, then?” Nezumi asked.

“N… No.”

“No?” Nezumi finished washing his hands and dried them off as well, thinking over what Shion could be talking about. If it couldn’t be bought and couldn’t be made… “Is it something I already have?”

“Uh…” Shion scratched the back of his neck and returned to the kitchen counter as if decorating even more cookies was an actual priority. “Technically?”

Nezumi scoffed and crossed his arms. “Technically?” he repeated. “What the hell kind of answer is that?”

Shion stared down at a star-shaped cookie he’d picked up. “Um… uh… I say ‘technically’ because…”

“Because…?”

“Well… technically you… have… what I want…” Shion mumbled, trailing off. He set down the cookie and smiled nervously, his eyes focused on Nezumi’s shoulder rather than his face. “Forget I said anything, okay? I like your ice skating idea. How about we do that for my present?”

Nezumi frowned to himself and ripped off a paper towel from the roll by the sink. “That was your idea, not mine,” he corrected, briefly running the faucet again to get the paper towel wet. He approached Shion and began wiping the icing off his cheek. “You forgot something.”

Shion shut his eyes while Nezumi cleaned off his face. “I did? Ha, oops, I guess I did…”

Somehow, exchanges like this made Nezumi dread their inevitable separation that would come with graduating high school. He didn’t like the idea of someone else helping Shion the way he did, taking his place… Would Shion even have him over during the holidays? How many more Christmases would they spend together?

“Hey, Shion?”

Shion peeked an eye open. “Yeah?”

Nezumi turned away to toss the paper towel in the trash and to avoid looking Shion in the eye. “You’re still going to invite me over for Christmas stuff once we’re in college, right?” he asked.

“Huh?” Shion blinked. “Y-Yeah, of course.”

“Good.”

Shion laughed a little and smiled sheepishly. “You know, I was starting to think you didn’t like celebrating Almost-Christmas with me. I’m sort of surprised, given how much you usually complain about Christmas…”

Nezumi let out a laugh as well and leaned his elbows on the counter. “I mean—” The gentle smile on Shion’s face kept him from finishing his sentence. He glanced away.

“Wait, Nezumi, do you secretly like Christmas?” Shion asked, just a hint of a giggle in his tone.

“What? No! I hate Christmas!”

The amusement left Shion’s face. “Oh. Um… Does that mean you don’t actually like doing Christmas stuff with me?”

Nezumi’s stomach sank. He hated seeing Shion sad. Why did he have to say that? “Okay, ‘hate’ may have been too strong of a word. I don’t hate Christmas. Not all of it, anyway,” he quickly explained. “I— Listen, I wouldn’t do this for anyone else, okay?”

Shion fell silent, staring down at the array of cookies before him and chewing his lip. After a long moment, he spoke again. “You know, we don’t have to keep doing the same stuff every year. Honestly, I just kept doing it because it’s what we’ve always done, and you kept agreeing to it, but I… I guess we don’t have to do anything Christmasy if you really don’t want to.”

“I mean, we are gonna hang out over break either way, aren’t we?” Nezumi said, though he knew in his heart that wasn’t what Shion wanted. Shion enjoyed the holiday season and all the pepperminty sweetness that it brought far too much to ignore it all with Nezumi. “Maybe if it’s just… a little less Christmasy,” he offered. His eyes darted around the room, searching for examples of anything seasonal that didn’t make him cringe. “Like… hot cocoa. I like hot cocoa. And I like eating Christmas cookies, just not, you know… decorating several dozen of them.”

Once again, Shion took a long while to respond. Nezumi might’ve been concerned if he didn’t know his friend so well; he knew it meant Shion was deeply considering his words. Besides, having Shion react logically rather than emotionally right now was preferable, albeit expected. After taking a hesitant breath, Shion asked, “Is ice skating too Christmasy?”

Nezumi breathed out a laugh. Of course their discussion had come back to this. “It’s an Olympic sport. I think that exempts it from being too Christmasy,” he replied. Skating really could turn out better than before, if Shion’s reasoning about his height was correct… Compared to watching a Christmas movie, it might actually be fun. “Listen, I’ll take you ice skating right now if it means we skip everything else on today’s itinerary.”

Shion blinked in surprise, finally looking up at Nezumi. “Y-You’re serious?”

“Completely.”

Shion gawked, then shook his head and said, “Um, right! I’ll— I’ll go tell mom what we’re doing!”

Nezumi laughed as Shion hurried out of the room. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” he commented, though he knew Shion had to be on the other side of the house, already and well out of earshot.

Before long, the two boys were buckling into Nezumi’s car, which was parked outside. Nezumi smirked to himself as he turned the key and started the engine. The satisfaction of having a license and a car had yet to wear off.

“It’s still weird that we can just drive places now, isn’t it?” Shion commented, running his fingers along the car door just below the window. “I’ve barely used my bike this year.”

“You mean that I can drive us places now?” Nezumi teased. “Seriously, when are you going to take your test?”

Shion shrugged. “I don’t know. Driving is kind of terrifying,” he said with a small laugh. “Besides, I kind of like…”

Nezumi raised an eyebrow, giving Shion an inquisitive look before pulling out of the driveway and heading down the road. “You kind of like what? You know you can’t just trail off like that.”

“Um.” Shion laughed a little again. “Well, I was going to say that I kind of like when you drive me around, but that sounds sort of entitled, doesn’t it?”

Nezumi scoffed. “Yeah, it kind of does.” Still, he couldn’t help but feel smug.

“I mean it as a good thing, though,” Shion explained. “Actually, I… I really am scared of driving. It’s not that it’s too difficult, it’s just— but—” His sentence sputtered to a halt. Shion forced out an exhale and tried again. “I’m afraid I’ll really mess up and hurt someone, or worse…” He shook his head to himself. “But… when I’m with you, I feel safe. I trust you.”

“Well. Maybe I like driving you around. So it all works out.”

Sure, Shion would eventually have to bite the bullet and get over his fear. For now, though… This was fine, perhaps even preferable. If Shion had a license, Nezumi could easily picture him having a personal crisis over a fender-bender or an unlucky squirrel’s demise. Yes, perhaps this was for the best.

Shion turned his head away, and Nezumi knew that meant either Shion was blushing or something very interesting that only Shion could see was on the side of the road. “Y-Yeah, at least until we graduate. Unless we go to college in the same place…”

They hadn’t discussed college much yet, surprisingly. Nezumi knew Shion planned to go to medical school to become a doctor, but that was about it. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to do, himself.

“I’m not going to med school with you,” Nezumi laughed.

“Well— just hold on a second, that’s not what I meant,” Shion protested. “I’ve been thinking about this. As long as the school you pick has a pre-med track, I’ll go there.”

They slowed to a stop at a red light. The contrarian part of Nezumi ached to argue with Shion’s suggestion, but he’d secretly been hoping for something like this. He hadn’t let himself think too much about going to college with Shion to save himself the disappointment, but now the possibility was very real.

“…Only if you want that, of course,” Shion added. Nezumi’s silence must have been a blow to his confidence.

The light changed, and Nezumi pressed his foot on the gas pedal. “You’re going to save me from the torture of rooming with a total stranger? Seems like a pretty sweet deal to me.”

“I— er, you mean you like my idea?” Shion stammered. “Really?”

Nezumi shrugged. “Yeah. Why not?”

Shion fiddled with the cuffs of his jacket sleeves instead of looking at Nezumi. “I… I guess sometimes I worry that you’ll get sick of me.”

“Unlikely.”

“What?” Shion looked up. “Really? Because sometimes you get really annoyed with me…”

Shion wasn’t exactly wrong. It had been much worse a few years before, when Nezumi was still grappling with the complicated mess of new emotions he felt toward Shion. It wasn’t the proudest time of his life. “When’s the last time I got seriously annoyed with you, though? I can’t remember,” Nezumi replied.

“Um… I believe it was last year, when we were discussing—”

“It was a rhetorical question, Shion,” Nezumi interrupted. “The point is, you’ve had over ten years to do anything truly unforgivable and you haven’t even come close, which makes you a pretty solid candidate for a college roommate, in my opinion.”

“What about that time at the homecoming dance?” Shion asked.

Nezumi blinked, furrowing his eyebrows. “What the hell are you talking about, Shion?”

“Back in eighth grade, I tried to do some kind of dance a bunch of other people were doing, and you looked me in the eye and said ‘truly unforgivable.’ Remember?”

“I—” Nezumi laughed and shook his head. “I may have overreacted. I hardly remember it.”

“So you aren’t even a little mad about that anymore?” Shion asked.

“No? Why would I be?”

Shion shrugged and sighed, which was a rather unusual gesture from his friend. “I know it hasn’t happened in a while, but you at least used to get mad at me for random stuff, sometimes for a long time. I can’t help but worry you might still be mad about some of those things.”

Nezumi was grateful for the excuse of watching the road so he didn’t have to look at Shion for this discussion. He’d thought they could just move on from that bumpy patch in their friendship without talking about it, but apparently that was not the case. He should have expected as much. “Would you believe me if I told you it was all just a lot of mood swings?”

“If you promised that’s the truth, then yeah, I’d believe you.”

Nezumi resisted the urge to sigh himself. “It’s the truth,” he replied. At least, it was the closest he was willing to get to the truth. He didn’t intend to give out any love confessions today. “I swear I’m not mad at you about any of that old stuff. I’m not mad at you about anything.”

“Really?”

“For now, anyway. I’m sure you could piss me off if you really tried.”

Shion giggled a little. “Okay, I’ll try not to worry about it.”

Nezumi turned into the parking lot outside the skating rink and easily found an empty spot. After they parked, Shion quickly unbuckled his seatbelt, but Nezumi locked the doors and kept his finger on the button to do it again if necessary. Shion looked over at him in surprise.

“Before we go in,” Nezumi explained, “you have to tell me what you want for Christmas.”

Shion gave him a grumpy pout. “I thought going skating was my present,” he argued, fiddling with the lock on his door.

“You know what I’m talking about. Whatever thing I apparently already have that you want. If it’s a sentimental thing, there’s no guarantee I even have it anymore. I don’t save stuff like you do.”

“Well…” Shion averted his eyes, his cheeks growing pink. “I guess I already got what I wanted.”

Nezumi paused, looking ahead as he thought. “…Wait, you wanted to be college roommates for your Christmas present?”

“N-No, not exactly, but— well, yes, it’s basically the same thing.”

“Is it or isn’t it?” Nezumi unbuckled his seatbelt and turned more towards Shion, watching his friend closely. Either Shion was choosing his words carefully or he was planning to bolt from the car.

“I-It’s—” Shion hesitated. “It’s… Nezumi, all I want for Christmas is—”

The pieces came together as Shion spoke, and time slowed down as a terrible realization struck Nezumi. He immediately covered Shion’s mouth with his hand. “Don’t say it!”

The outburst shocked them both into a silence that stretched on for several seconds. Finally, Shion pulled Nezumi’s hand off of his mouth. “What?”

Nezumi felt heat rise from his neck up to his ears. This was going to be difficult to explain. “I-I… You were going to say the name of a Christmas song, weren’t you?”

Shion blinked, then replied, “Oh, y-yeah, I guess so. Um…”

Nezumi had to think fast. He hadn’t thought this conversation would be happening today, or even at all, and it was already off to a rough start. He wasn’t even entirely sure what Shion meant by that kind of request. “Listen,” Nezumi began to explain, though he didn’t really know what he was about to say. He kept talking anyway. “If… if, let’s say, this ends up being something people might ask us about later, I’d rather it not be a reminder of an annoying Christmas song. If what you’re asking for is what I think you’re asking for.”

Shion’s face had turned bright red and his wide, dark eyes were focused on Nezumi’s hands. “Um. What do you think I’m asking for, Nezumi?”

Nezumi almost passed the question right back to Shion, but maybe Shion really couldn’t bring himself to say it. The suave thing to do in this moment would be to answer Shion’s question with a kiss, but Nezumi’s doubts kept him from acting. He settled for a response somewhere in the middle. “It sounds to me like you want a boyfriend for Christmas,” he replied as casually as he could.

Shion didn’t respond, nor did he move. He sat there, frozen in place, clearly unsure of how to proceed.

“…Just nod if I’m right.”

Shion took a small, sharp breath and nodded ever so slightly. Nezumi had never seen his friend look so terrified in his life.

If there had ever been a time to kiss Shion, this was it.

Nezumi had never kissed anyone before, only stage-kissed a few people in drama class, but he reasoned it couldn’t be too different from the real thing. Gently lifting Shion’s chin with one hand, Nezumi leaned closer, lightly closed his eyes, and touched his lips to Shion’s. An odd thrill ran down his spine, which certainly never happened with a thumb in the way— or more likely, with anyone else.

A second later, he felt a jolt of pain as Shion pressed back too hard, too quickly. Nezumi jerked away and pressed his fingers to his aching lip. “Ow—”

Shion quickly pulled back with a look of absolute horror on his face. “I-I’m so sorry!” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to— I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine,” Nezumi said with a small laugh. “Just— hold still this time.”

Ignoring the pain in his lip, Nezumi leaned closer again. Shion shut his eyes and held his breath. Nezumi lingered just inches away for a moment, then withdrew slightly.

“You… do want me to do this, right?” Nezumi asked.

Shion opened his eyes and looked up at Nezumi briefly before averting his gaze and nodding. “I— That is, only if you want to—”

They’d just crossed a new boundary together, and yet they were both afraid to take a single step further. Something about it was utterly ridiculous, but Nezumi couldn’t blame Shion for acting so nervous. After all, if this change ended up being a mistake, there probably wouldn’t be any going back. From what Nezumi understood about the world, lovers could rarely return to just being friends. Could he really risk their entire friendship? Was it already too late to turn back?

Why hadn’t he thought of this before kissing Shion the first time?

“Are you okay?” Shion asked quietly, meeting Nezumi’s gaze for only a split second. “You’re shaking.” His fingers carefully wrapped around Nezumi’s trembling hand.

“You’re shaking,” Nezumi whispered in retort.

“Y-Yeah, but it’s weird for you to be shaking like this,” Shion replied. He wasn’t wrong.

“So what?”

What kind of answer was that?

“Nezumi…” With a sad expression that was meant to be a smile, Shion turned his head away, breaking the tension and leaving Nezumi with an unpleasant sense of disappointment. “I… It’s okay if you don’t want to—”

“That’s not the— listen, Shion,” Nezumi argued. He didn’t dare pull his hand away from Shion’s gentle grasp. “What if this doesn’t work out? Then what? Do you really think everything would just go back to normal? That we’d just go back to being friends?”

A series of expressions crossed Shion’s face before he spoke, and Nezumi wasn’t entirely sure what any of them meant. “We’ve stuck together through everything so far, so I can’t imagine we wouldn’t be able to find a way to get along,” Shion said with a slight smile. “Besides… I really think… this could work out.”

Maybe Shion was being too much of an optimist, but Nezumi had considered that exact possibility before. Maybe they could get through anything together. None of their past disputes had been enough to damage their friendship. His doubts were losing their ground.

“And… what’s the point of acting like we don’t want more from each other now that we know?” Shion added softly, staring down at their joined hands as if looking anywhere else would cause him to lose what courage he had left. “I… I really love being with you, Nezumi.” He’d said that phrase to him many times before, but Nezumi finally understood what Shion was actually trying to say. “I always have,” Shion added, then let out a shaky sigh and briefly glanced up. “…Please say something.”

Nothing felt right to say, but Nezumi had to say something. He couldn’t leave Shion to doubt himself all over again in his silence. With his free hand, he lifted Shion’s chin so their faces were level once more. “Stay still, alright?”

Shion immediately complied, closing his eyes in anticipation of what was to come. If it wasn’t so cruel to make Shion wait, Nezumi would’ve taken a moment to enjoy the blissful expression on his friend’s face. Summoning his own courage, Nezumi leaned in and gave Shion a careful kiss. Shion’s fingers tightened around his hand in response, but he otherwise stayed perfectly still. Nezumi drew back and Shion’s eyes fluttered open, and slowly, a wide smile spread across Shion’s flushed face. Nezumi couldn’t quite stop himself from grinning as well. The thrill of the moment was still sinking in, even after it was over.

“So, um.” Shion sheepishly ducked his head and held Nezumi’s hand with both of his own. “What do you want for Christmas?”

“Hm. Pretty much the same thing as you, I think,” Nezumi answered with the casual shrug of a shoulder. The hand that had been touching Shion’s face came to rest on Shion’s knee, causing him to jump slightly, but neither of them moved away. An unexpected sense of freedom was settling in… the freedom to show his true affections after all this time.

Shion looked up with an embarrassed smile. “Okay, but I like giving you presents. Is there anything else you want?”

“Who says I don’t like giving you presents?” Nezumi scoffed.

“Well, you said you hate Christmas, didn’t you?” Shion replied, visibly confused. “And you’ve complained plenty of times about how trivial you think Christmas gifts are. I thought you would have just stopped giving anyone presents by now if you’re so against them.”

Nezumi sighed through his nose and glanced away. “It’s… complicated,” he tried to explain. “Overall, yes, I think Christmas presents are crap. But this is an exception.” Shion was the exception. Shion somehow always was the exception for him. “It’s… enjoyable to pick out a gift for you, and I know it’s not a wasted effort since you actually appreciate it.”

“I appreciate anything from you,” Shion said far too earnestly.

Nezumi laughed. This was exactly what he had been talking about. “Yeah, I know. It’s—” Instead of editing his words to be a playful jab, he allowed the rest of his thought to leave his lips, “—cute.”

Shion gawked at Nezumi, then covered his beet-red face with both hands. “I-I—!”

“Did I break you?” Nezumi asked with another laugh, using his newly freed hand to ruffle Shion’s soft, brown hair. Making Shion blush had yet to lose its appeal. “Sorry. Well, not really. Have I really never told you you’re cute before?”

“Um!” Shion kept his face covered as he spoke. “N-No, I think you’ve said that every time you’ve seen me dressed up for an event, but I know you were just making fun of me.”

Nezumi hummed thoughtfully. “Was I, though?”

“Wait, were you!?”

“Was I?”

Shion faced forward again and placed his head down in his folded arms on the dashboard. “Argh, which is it!?” he loudly groaned.

Nezumi rarely saw Shion this worked up. He wasn’t sure whether to be proud or sorry. “Is not knowing really that unbearable?” he asked.

“Kind of.”

Nezumi’s eyes scanned over Shion’s hunched, trembling form. His own nervous jitters had thankfully faded away, but Shion case seemed to be the opposite. “Serious question, though… are you going to be able to skate today? You’re shaking like crazy.”

Shion quickly sat up, placed his hands in his lap, and took a deep breath. “I’m fine!” he insisted, though his face was still awfully red and every inch of him shook.

“Are you sure?” Nezumi asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically. “If you’re that tense on the ice, you’ll definitely fall. What’s the matter, anyway?”

“Nothing!” Shion quickly answered and took another deep breath. “Nothing’s the matter! I’m just— I’m— I’m really happy. And excited.” He let out an anxious laugh. “And a little nervous.”

Nezumi felt his own shoulders relax. Had he been tense, too? “Nervous about what?” he asked.

Shion laughed again. “Um. Well, I did kind of punch your mouth with my face a little.”

“It wasn’t that bad. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“That’s good,” Shion said, giving Nezumi a sheepish glance. “Um. But I’m nervous I’ll do it again. But I— w-want to try—” He looked at Nezumi again, this time with eyes full of hope.

Nezumi opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again and closed his eyes. When he still wasn’t kissed several seconds later, he gestured a hand toward his face and prompted, “Well?”

“What? Oh!”

Once again, Nezumi waited.

“Um, hold still,” Shion murmured and gently grasped both of Nezumi’s hands.

Nezumi complied. A moment later, he felt Shion’s lips gingerly touch his. It was over almost as soon as it happened, just a whisper of a kiss, but it somehow left Nezumi’s nerves buzzing long afterward.

“Was that okay?” Shion asked quietly.

Nezumi opened his eyes and smiled. “Completely painless.”

Shion beamed brighter than the sun overhead.

“Still nervous?” Nezumi asked.

Shion shook his head and looked away, still smiling. “No, not really. Only a little.” He gazed out across the parking lot for a brief moment, then grinned up at Nezumi. “Let’s go skating!”

Nezumi laughed, caught off guard by Shion’s abrupt enthusiasm. “You’re awfully confident all of a sudden,” he teased.

“It’s just that— I realized this will be our first date,” Shion replied. “It’s kind of exciting, you know?”

“You mean all those school dances we went to don’t count?” Nezumi scoffed, still smiling. He knew they didn’t really count. Nezumi had only been Shion’s date to keep him unavailable.

“Um— I didn’t think they did,” Shion said hesitantly. “Do they?”

“Not really, no.” Nezumi smirked as a thought crossed his mind. “Did I ever tell you that Safu called me ‘too possessive’ before the homecoming dance this year?”

Shion covered his face with his hands again and leaned his head against Nezumi’s shoulder. “Oh, jeez… No, you didn’t tell me. What happened?”

“She asked me not to ask you to the dance, and I told her that I’d already asked you and you’d already said yes. Apparently that wasn’t quite what she wanted to hear.”

“Thank you. Again,” Shion mumbled. “I only ever wanted to go with you, anyway.”

A part of Nezumi had always suspected as much, but actually hearing it from Shion gave him a smug sense of satisfaction. He slipped his arm behind Shion in a halfway embrace. “Maybe she’ll finally realize you’re not interested in dating her when she spots us making out at your locker.”

“You’re gonna kiss me at school!?” Shion asked in disbelief.

That wasn’t the takeaway Nezumi had expected Shion to get from his words, but Shion was always like that, surprising him in odd ways. “I might,” Nezumi replied. “You’d better watch out.”

Shion blinked, then smiled and stretched to press a kiss to Nezumi’s cheek. “Then I guess you’d better watch out, too.”

Nezumi turned his head away in an attempt to hide how much a little kiss on the cheek was making him blush. He was going to have to get used to this, wasn’t he? “…Noted.”

Shion giggled at Nezumi’s response, then grinned up at him. “Well, then. Shall we go in?”

“Sure. Let’s go.”

They both exited the car, Nezumi locking the doors before meeting Shion on the other side. They joined hands, and just to make things fair, Nezumi gave Shion a quick kiss on the cheek. For the entire walk across the parking lot toward the ice rink, Shion blushed and giggled while Nezumi wore a smug smile on his face.

If this was what celebrating Christmas with Shion would be like from now on… well, Nezumi certainly didn’t mind.

#no6 #no.6 #no. 6 #no 6 #nezushi #weisel #Weiselzelle #glorifiedscapegoat #no6secretsanta #fanfiction #submission

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averagesmw · 3 years

Text

Penny Haywood x MC- Come with me (1/4)

Game: Harry Potter Hogwarts Mystery

____________________

The time for the holidays was approaching Hogwarts. The colorful lights and gentle snowfall made paved the way for the most peaceful time of the year

A time when there was no such thing as an enemy and tensions were indeed at an all-time low

This would be an ideal time to celebrate and surround yourself with loved ones, but after a brutal sixth year, festive wouldn't be a way to describe how Y/N was feeling

It was so hard to believe that it was over, that after... everything, they were free. However, it didn't feel like a victory

In fact, it didn't feel like anything. Even Beatrice wasn't as gloom

This behavior did not go unnoticed, however. Across the Great Hall, while the Curse-Breaker was staring at their giant sandwich, their friends were plotting

Well, at least the ones who hadn't left for Christmas yet

Tulip, Liz, Tonks, and Penny were waiting on Chiara, who was holding a plate with barely eaten food

"They didn't even eat. They just took a bite to not make me feel bad..."

The silver-haired girl sighed, earning sympathy from the girls, except for Penny, who was looking back at them

Not many students were left, but Y/N was so lost in thought that they didn't notice the girls

"This isn't good. Y/N has been as lonely as Talbot"

"...Who?" Tonks asked

"The point is, there has to be something we can do to help them"

"I tried cheering them up with Puffskeins, but Y/N just ended up falling asleep..." Liz sighed in defeat

"Have you tried taking them to Hogsmeade?" Tulip suggested to Penny

"Yes, but they didn't want to go. Said there were too many memories"

There was silence after that, at least until more ideas brewed

Y/N went through unimaginable lengths to protect their friends and even ensure their happiness. After everything that happened with Rakepick and the Vaults, it was only fair that they got some of that as well

The girls were devastated to know that wasn't the case, and they made it their mission to correct it immediately

Unfortunately, every attempt at improving their friend's mood had failed, and with Christmas approaching, time was running out

Unless...

"Wait, you said Hogsmeade brought Y/N bad memories?"

Penny nodded at the question, curious to see what Tonks had come up with

"Why not take Y/N somewhere else? Maybe a change of scenery would help them"

"Brilliant idea, Tonks! It could do wonders for their health if the environment is right"

Chiara's comment earned a proud smile from the methamorphmagus, at least until Liz came in with another question

"But where would it be ideal for that?"

With her hand on her chin, looking around for an answer. Her blue eyes eventually landed on the Christmas tree that was decorating the place

That's when she got a fragment of what could be an idea. She just needed a bit more intimation

"Where are you going on Christmas?"

The girls seemed to pick up on this idea, but their reactions didn't help much

"Y/N L/N is one of my best friends, I wouldn't let them anywhere near my parents"

With Tulip's parents working for the Ministry and Y/N being...well, Y/N, it only made sense

" I'm staying to help Hagrid look after the creatures"

Liz's statement made Chiara look at her with surprise

"And I will learn from Madam Pomfrey. Maybe we can get together for lunch!"

The silver-haired girl smiled at the idea as soon as she heard it

"I'd love that!"

The girls' excitement only made Penny worry, seeing as her options were running out. But that's when she thought about what she'd be doing in the holidays

Visiting the countryside, away from conflict and just near family and friends from a nearby village

"Then I'll ask Y/N to come with me for the holidays!" She thought out loud, gaining the attention of her friends

"You sure your parents would let you?"

"I'll send them an owl to ask them. Hopefully, they'll say yes"

Shortly after that, her gaze shifted to the student at the table

"But first, the guest of honor"

Without further due she approached Y/N and sat in front of them, her presence making then snap out of it

"Oh. Hey, Penny"

She returned the greeting with a smile

"Hi, Y/N. How are you today?"

"I'm holding up. I thought you'd be going with your family for Christmas"

This provided Penny the opportunity she was looking for, and she wouldn't waste it

"Actually, that's what I came here to talk about"

The suspense that accompanied that statement made Y/N look at her with concerned eyes

"Is everything alright?"

The Hufflepuff picked up on this and gently smiled at them

"Oh yes, don't worry about it. See, I was thinking..."

A sigh left her soft lips before she finally allowed herself to be as honest as she could with Y/N, or at least enough to proceed

"You've done far too much for us, especially this year, and while it has been difficult, it's been even worse for you"

"That's...a way to describe it, yes"

"But you deserve to enjoy this breath of fresh air, Y/N, and I was wondering if you..."

If she had their attention, now she also counted with their curiosity

"Yes?"

Her blue eyes met their e/c eyes as she finally asked what she came there to know

"If you'd like to come to the countryside with me for the holidays"

Penny waited for Y/N to politely decline the invitation as they would probably do given their mood

However, something that the young lady didn't account for was that talking to her would always help to cheer them up, even now

So rather than declining such an offer, Y/N showed surprise

"Really? You want me to go with you?"

Their reaction was as if they had forgotten just how much they meant to Penny, but seeing this change in behavior gave her the boost she needed to continue

"Of course! There's nobody else I'd rather spend them with"

She could tell that the curse-breaker was moved by her words, but also that they were seriously considering her offer. It was only a minute, but it felt like an eternity to the blonde witch

"Well, I could use the scenery change"

There she was, the confirmation she needed to get started. Penny got up and flashed one of the brightest smiles Y/N had ever seen

Not literally of course, but he had to be dead for it not to be heartwarming

"Brilliant! I'll send an owl to my parents to tell them about it. I'll tell you when we're leaving and...Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for giving me this opportunity"

Without further due, she left the Great Hall and headed straight to her Common Room so she could write a letter asking her parents if Y/N could indeed tag along

Penny would explain that they were responsible for saving Hogwarts on multiple occasions, including the Haywood sisters themselves and also the fact that they didn't quite deserve to spend such a gloomy Christmas by themselves

The owl left as soon as she delivered the letter. Fortunately, the weather was calm enough for it to fly normally and there weren't as many letters going around

It took a day for Penny to receive an answer, and what she saw made her squeal with overwhelming joy. Y/N would spend the holidays with them

For Y/N it might be just a change of scenery, but for her? It was all she wanted

To spend the best time of her year surrounded by the people she loved the most, no exceptions

And so, she went to find Y/N and tell them that the time to leave was near...after eating breakfast, of course

They all ate together and wished Y/N a pleasant trip. One could tell that more than saddened by their departure, they were glad they were taking their time

Except for Alanza, she wouldn't let go, literally. Even if she wouldn't admit it, that made Penny a bit jealous

Regardless, the Haywood sisters and Y/N found themselves walking into the Hogsmeade train station, with their baggage included

The plan was to take the train, get to a specific location where they'd meet Penny's parents, and from there continue with the holidays

Nothing Penny hadn't done many times before, so it wasn't all that complicated to follow

"I'm so glad you agreed to come with us, Y/N!"

"I think you'll find the countryside rather charming. Even I still enjoy it" Beatrice added

"Then I guess I really have to see it for myself"

"You'll love nature in there, it's so relaxing. There, let's find a seat!"

Penny grabbed Y/N's hand out of instinct as she guided them through the station, with Beatrice not far behind, chuckling at the sight of it

Plenty of things had taken place during their sixth year at Hogwarts, most of them dreadful, but one exception was Beatrice's relationship with both Penny and Y/N themselves

While still adjusting to her new self, she found comfort in the curse-breaker's company and help. Now she was ready to move on

And it showed, while they were all waiting for the train, the chatter was not gloomy or resentful, but rather charming instead

It even brought some semblance of normality

Something that seemed like such a rare commodity nowadays

Fortunately, they didn't have to wait long for the train to arrive. They had timed their arrival perfectly, which was a relief considering that the station's clock cannot be relied on

It didn't take long for them to find a place to sit while the journey began, Penny and Beatrice sat on one side and Y/N on the other. Regardless, the window provided a breathtaking view of the landscape

As if the mountains and fields weren't beautiful enough, the snow gave them a refreshing new look. That was perhaps the best thing about winter, it made everything look brand new, even if it was older than you

An hour and a half went by with nothing to report. A hint of orange had taken over the scene, reminiscing the colors of the past season in a gentle way

Beatrice fell asleep in no time, practically leaning on her sister, who was reviewing potion materials when she noticed this

"Hey Y/N? Do you mind if I sit with you?"

The curse-breaker, on the other hand, was reading a book that Madam Villanelle recommended for the long trip. They lowered the book to look at the blonde and immediately understood what she meant

And so, Y/N moved so that there was enough space for Penny. She wanted to give her sister more space to get some rest...and it was also the perfect excuse to scoot a bit closer

"Thanks!"

In a swift motion, the blonde gently laid her sister to rest and got up, switching seats so that she was now beside her other companion

Said companion found themselves unable to return to their book, as the light that made it through the window highlighted Penny's delicate features

From the way her braids were done, to the softness and color of her lips, and more importantly, her joyful attitude

Y/N found themselves lucky just to be witness to this, but it also came to them that so far, they hadn't said anything to the girl, they had just tagged along

Perhaps now would be the right time to correct that

"Penny?"

The delicate way her name left Y/N's lips got her attention in seconds, and when she saw them put away their book, Penny was genuinely intrigued

"Yes?"

They scratched the back of their neck as words failed to come out at first, but after a sigh, that was no longer a problem

"Thank you for taking me with you. I mean it"

She gave them a sympathetic smile, she knew why she was doing this and didn't feel like she was owed anything

"There's no need to thank me, I didn't want you to stay alone in the castle"

"I'm not precisely alone, but I get what you mean"

"You didn't have to do it"

This time, both of them shook off the nervousness

"But I wanted to. You saved Hogwarts, Y/N, but you also saved my word. I want to share it with you"

The curse-breaker didn't know how to answer that. Although their surprised expression and later smile said everything

Penny spared them of the silence and chose to continue, with a softer approach this time, and one closer to the truth as well

Her truth, of course

"Besides, I like spending time with you outside the school. Like that time we went to the dragon reserve"

Y/N chuckled at the memory of that "field trip", choosing to focus on the less lethal parts of it, but also going with the flow of the conversation

"That time when we roasted marshmallows together and slept in an oversized tent?"

"Exactly! But...less dangerous"

They laughed at this comment, taking the opportunity to go over the events of the last year together

Not only the dragon reserve but also getting to welcome Alanza to the school, the times they had snuck out together to investigate or just talk in the Courtyard

It wasn't a Celestial Ball or a tournament, but there was no denying those small moments

Of course, it had been a dark year, but it wasn't one without its lighter moments, and even if Y/N couldn't find enough of them, Penny would provide light, for both of them

This chatter lasted for at least another hour, soon, both of them returned to their respective books, smiling tiredly after making the journey much sweeter

But then, after a few minutes of reading, the Hufflepuff felt a gentle weight on her shoulder. Glancing over, she discovered the familiar h/c hair so close to her

Did...did Y/N just fall asleep on her shoulder?

Yes, yes they did

And they looked so peaceful as well

Penny found herself smiling fondly at this

" I could use a little rest..." She thought

Penny didn't think it twice before she closed her book, putting it to the side

Then, she got comfortable and snuggled closer to Y/N, allowing herself to cuddle up and just...close her eyes too

#penny haywood x mc #penny haywood x jacob's sibling #hogwarts mystery jacob's sibling

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chiaki-translation · 3 years

Text

New Year! Red and White Kakushigei Tournament! Event Translation Ch9-Epilogue

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone! My bf got extra holiday during christmas and I ended up spending more time with him, thus the delayed translation. At least I can still make it before new year~

Anyway, I hope that everyone have a great holiday ahead! Here’s the final part of the new year event, enjoy~

New Year! Kakushigei Tournament Ch1-4 / / Ch5-8 / / Ch9-Epilogue

Disclaimer:

A3! is owned by Liber’s Entertainment

Azuma:

“It’s the season of pure white snow.

Everyone, as per tradition, let us make some snow bunny.”

Hisoka:

“Yeah. Let us offer our prayer, for the weather not to be too heavy.”

Juza:

“Surely, the snow bunny will deliver our thoughts and prayers to heaven.”

Chikage:

“Then, I’ll start gathering snow. Will you help me.”

Banri:

“Yeah, of course.”

Tsuzuru:

“I’m leaving it to you.”

Tenma:

“Let’s make them, so the snow bunny can run under this winter sky.”

Banri:

“Oi, why are you wandering around our little hut.

Are you here to steal our food.”

Tenma:

“What are you saying.

I’m just trying to shovel the snow on the road back home.”

Banri:

“So suspicious, don’t lie.”

Tenma:

“What the. You too, aren’t you planning something!”

Banri:

“What…! This guy!”

Tenma:

“Bastard…!”

Banri:

“Ugh!”

Tenma:

“Woah!?”

Banri:

“…!”

Chikage:

“What’s this noise about!”

Juza:

“…! The snow bunny’s statue…!”

Azuma:

“What a disaster. The snow statue that offers our prayer is destroyed…”

Tenma:

“It’s not my fault! This guy…!”

Banri:

“No shit, it’s him!”

Hisoka:

“Stop it, the two of you!”

Banri & Tenma:

“…”

Tsuzuru:

“This is bad, the snow never stops.”

Juza:

“If this continues, what should we do.”

Hisoka:

“It’s, it’s cold…”

Azuma:

“Soon, the crops will be affected too.

The village might not be able to survive…”

Banri:

“Ah, as I thought, the heaven is looking down on us.

I’m sorry for raising suspicion on you.”

Tenma:

“No, me too, I’m sorry.”

Banri:

“Let’s try to fix the snow bunny statue together.

From now on, to be considerate with each other. Let’s offer our oaths and prayers sincerely with a dance.”

Tenma:

“Yeah, let’s do that. Let’s put all our thoughts, and dance.

…”

Banri:

“…”

Azuma:

“Those feelings of yours, I’m sure it will be delivered to the snow bunny.”

Chikage:

“Us too, let’s dance to offer our prayers.”

Juza:

“Yeah. I hope for the snow to subside, for the crops to continue growing, and everyone in the village to prosper.”

Chikage:

“…”

Audience A:

Woah… So beautiful…!

Audience B:

It’s so dignified, it’s wonderful!

Audience C:

The atmosphere around them is so wonderful, I’m so fascinated.

Director:

Everyone, good work.

The performance and dance were great!

Hisoka:

Thank you.

Banri:

Well, this much is easy.

Tsuzuru:

Eh? Speaking of which, the snow stopped before we realized…

Azuma:

Maybe it’s the power of the dance.

Tenma:

Well, looks like it.

Muku:

Everyone looks so cool!

It’s so wonderful and fascinating.

Homare:

Yeah, what an artistic performance!

I’m overflowing with inspiration.

Guy:

The dance was very elegant. The thoughts and prayers were conveyed properly.

Chikage:

More than anything else, I’m glad that the audience seems to enjoy it.

Priest:

Everyone, thank you so much!

The performance and the dance were wonderful.

Juza:

Thanks.

Tenma:

I’m glad everything went smoothly.

Omi:

Next will be the result announcement for the Kakushigei right.

Masumi:

Will the red team win, or is it going to be the white team…

Sakuya:

I’m feeling kinda nervous now.

Kazunari:

Settzer’s tablecloth trick and Chikchon’s miracle magic were wonderful, surely it’s the red team win right!

Banri:

It will be great if that’s the case.

Yuki:

The audiences are pretty excited too.

Priest:

Without further ado, I will announce the result of the Kakushigei tournament.

The winner is… White team!!

Kumon:

Alright---!!

Taichi:

Yeay! It’s the white team win--!!

Priest:

Both teams were wonderful, the voting results were close too, but among them, Citron-san’s belly dance from the white team is very popular.

Citron:

I did it! Everyone gets it~!

Itaru:

Seriously.

Misumi:

That’s too bad.

Chikage:

Well, I guess this kind of thing happens.

Omi:

Well, it’s true that Citron’s belly dance has the impact and it’s pretty interesting too.

Kazunari:

I’m a bit disappointed, but everyone did their best and I was able to see a lot of different performances!

Kumon:

Yup! It was so much fun~!

Tasuku:

The festival’s going to end soon.

Director:

It’s going to be over before we know it.

Staff:

It’s amazake. Please take one.

Azami:

Hmm, are you giving out amazake.

Taichi:

It screams end of year, it’s great!

Staff:

Everyone, would you like one too? Please take it.

Director:

Woah, thank you so much.

Tsumugi:

It’s warm and delicious.

Sakyo:

Yeah, not bad.

Chikage:

… There you go, Banri. We got some amazake.

Banri:

Thanks.

It’s been a while since I drank amazake with Chikage-san like this.

Good work for the Kakushigei, the performance, and the dance.

Cheers.

Chikage:

Good work. Cheers.

…

Banri:

How does it taste?

Chikage:

Just drink it.

Banri:

… Ugh, it got ginger huh.

But well, it tastes a bit better than what I remember from my childhood.

That time, I could only think of it as disgusting.

Chikage:

Hmm, isn’t is just the thing about growing up.

Banri:

But as I thought, I prefer the sweet one.

… About my family too, I think I’ll show my face when they’re back from their trip.

Chikage:

That’s great.

Citron:

The two of you, what were you talking about!

Let’s go pull omikuji together!

Banri:

Don’t you pull omikuji at the beginning of the year?

Citron:

Pulling omikuji at the end of the year is also good!

Banri:

There goes the nonsensical stuff again.

Chikage:

Well, it seems that it’s actually fine to pull it at the end of the year.

Citron:

Come on, let’s go~!

Banri:

Fine fine.

Then, let’s go.

Chikage:

Yeah.

Epilogue: The fate of the Victor

Citron:

Alright, it’s finally the long-awaited end of year party!

Let’s have fun and get excited today!

Taichi:

Yeay!

There’s also ‘that thing’ that we’ve been looking forward to!

Tenma:

Right.

Kumon:

It’s the highlight of today’s party!

I’m so excited~!

Omi:

Everyone, it’s ready~

It’s the white team’s request, ‘Sukiyaki’.

Muku:

Woah, what a great smell…!

Citron:

It’s the prize of winning the Kakushigei tournament, it’s the winning sukiyaki!

Yeay!

Tsuzuru:

We were deciding what’s good for the main dish for the end of year party, even though it became a draw between crab pot and sukiyaki…

The red group for crab pot and the white group for sukiyaki, it was decided through the Kakushigei tournament in the end.

Azami:

No one who watched the Kakushigei tournament would have thought that it was actually held for this reason.

Tsumugi:

Ahaha, you’re right.

Kazunari:

But the shrine was bustling with people, the audiences seem to have enjoyed themselves too, it’s great wasn’t it!

Director:

Yeah, Mr. Priest seems to be glad too.

Kumon:

Thanks to the gift cards from him, we were able to upgrade the meat for sukiyaki too!

Citron:

Then then, first of all…

Everyone, good work for the Kakushigei performance and the dance!

Congrats to the white team for winning! Cheers!!

Troupe Members:

Cheers!!

Sakuya:

Woah…! The sukiyaki is very delicious!

Juza:

Yeah, it’s great.

Taichi:

It feels different from the usual one! It’s the best!

Homare:

Everyone from white team, congratulations on winning.

Kazunari:

Sukiyaki is lit~!

Banri:

Well, I’m for the crab pot, but I don’t mind as long as I can eat delicious food.

Misumi:

Fuh… fuh…! It’s so delicious~!

Omi:

For Hisoka-san, I’ve prepared a main dish with broiled tofu and vegetables, I’ve put some mochi inside too.

Hisoka:

Thank you, Omi.

Tenma:

Ah, oi! I was about to eat that meat!

Citron:

No no, the faster hand got it

Tsuzuru:

Calm down, we still have a lot coming.

Itaru:

The sake that Azuma-san prepared has a nice fragrant, it suits sukiyaki pretty well.

Azuma:

Fufu, right? I was interested in it, I’m glad I got it in the end.

Sakyo:

This sake is delicious too.

Takato, you should try it as well.

Tasuku:

Thank you, I’ll try some.

Sakuya:

The Kakushigei tournament was so fun.

Guy:

Yeah. I’ve seen the others practicing sometimes, but seeing the real thing properly for the first time is different.

Masumi:

Director, did you enjoy my Kakushigei performance?

Director:

Yeah! Masumi-kun’s pretty good at ventriloquism.

Manager:

I got surprised by a lot of tricks too!

The venue was also an exciting one~!

Yuki:

The dance was fantastic too, it was beautiful.

Muku:

It’s so elegant, I was impressed!

Chikage:

I’m glad everyone enjoyed it.

Juza:

I also learned a lot from it.

Citron:

The tension’s up! By everyone’s request, I will do my belly dance encore~!

♪~♪~♪~

Kazunari:

As I thought, Ronron’s belly dance is the best~!

I also took a video!

Taichi:

Yo, white team’s general! Japan’s MVP~

Misumi:

I’ll dance together too~!

Tenma too, Kumon too, let’s dance~!

Tenma:

Me too!?

Kumon:

Ahaha!

Director:

Ah, is it time for the go-home group to leave?

Tasuku:

Yeah. Then, I’ll be going.

Omi:

Thank you for your care this year.

Looking forward to next year too.

Director:

Thank you too.

Looking forward to next year with everyone.

Tsuzuru:

Everyone, have a good new year ahead.

Sakuya:

Yeah, have a great new year!

Juza:

We’ll be going too.

Muku:

Yeah!

Kumon:

Ah, Banri! Since Big Brother won’t be here for a while, don’t just eat the snacks he has in his room okay!?

Banri:

There’s no way I’ll eat them!

Juza:

Don’t eat them.

Banri:

I told you there’s nooooooo way!

Itaru:

If you miss everyone, you can play the games I have in the room, senpai.

Chikage:

I will refrain from doing so.

Tsumugi:

Masumi-kun too, have a good new year.

Remember to keep warm.

Masumi:

Yeah.

Homare:

Then, see you next year.

Yuki:

We’re going off.

Kazunari:

We’re going off!

Director:

Have a safe trip!

Banri:

…

Chikage:

Banri.

Banri:

Oh, Chikage-san.

Chikage:

You’re reading the script for your new year performance huh.

Good work.

Here, I brought some new year soba.

Banri:

Thanks.

… Eh, this is a curry soba isn’t it?

Chikage:

It’s the director’s hope.

Banri:

Right, I remember she said something about arranging them.

It is indeed a very strange new year soba.

*phone vibrates*

Hmm?

It’s from Big Sister.

… Eh, she took the time to send pictures from Hawaii.

Look, there.

Chikage:

Hmm… Your Big Sister looks just like you.

Banri:

Geez, that’s so random.

Don’t just send me this kind of thing every time.

Chikage:

Well well. She might be worried about her lone Little Brother that she left in Japan.

Banri too, why don’t you try to send her a picture?

Banri:

I don’t have any picture…

Then, why don’t Chikage-san take a picture together with me?

Chikage:

Me?

Banri:

With that reasoning, she won’t be worried anymore if I take a picture with someone else right.

Misumi:

Ah! There you are~!

Sakuya:

Banri-kun, Chikage-san!

Banri:

Hmm?

Citron:

We will be starting the new year countdown soon.

Banri and Chikage too, let’s do it together!

Banri:

Ah, it’s already that timing huh.

Chikage:

… Anyway, it’s not only me who’s here, why not take a picture together with everyone?

Banri:

… You’re right, this kind of new year’s eve is rare.

Misumi:

The two of you, quick~!

Banri:

Then, should we go.

Chikage:

Right.

#a3! act! addict! actors!#a3! event #a3! translation #utsuki chikage #settsu banri #mikage hisoka #sumeragi tenma #hyodo juza #minagi tsuzuru #yukishiro azuma

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pookapics · 4 years

Text

Sugar, Butter and Flour - A CEO!Steve Rogers x Baker!Reader (Christmas Series) Chapter 3 ~ The Need For A Christmas Miracle

Warnings - Mention of Loss, Fluffy Romance and flirting, Sister!Nat playing Matchmaker

Word Count - 3185

A/N - This series will be completed by the end of January! Sorry for the delay! December was extremely busy due to university deadlines I had due!

Masterlist - https://protectthelesbians.tumblr.com/post/189337379588/are-you-wanting-a-heart-warming-fan-fiction-just

__________________________________________

Your POV

Both of your arms were occupied as you shuffled to your rickety car, you didn’t drive much due to living above the bakery, you only used it to do the deliveries or to get out of the city to make visits home. Piling the boxes into the backseat, securing the seat belt across them so they’d be secure during the ride. Your patchwork scarf wrapped around your neck as to block the coldness of the wind from breathing up your neck, the weather was dropping in the city quickly, icicles forming from the swaying sign which was being battered around in the wind harshly.

Scuttling back to the store, you locked up and flipped on the closed sign before heading back to your car which was waiting for you on the sidewalk. Sliding into the driver’s seat, switching on the engine, your cold fingers fiddling with the heating to try and get some warmth into your bones. It was time to head to Steve’s office, checking for the address in your text messages with him, inputting the address into your google maps app as you sat still parked on the sidewalk. With the google maps voice going off on the seat next to you, using it to direct you through the large and ever-growing city which seemed to expand more with the blink of an eye. Eyes on the road, fingers tapping the wheel to the rhythm of a song you heard on the radio, trying to make it through the traffic and the chaos which was driving in the city. Christmas lights hanging above all the cars, softly twinkling in the December afternoon, bringing a smile to your face with the growing festive cheer.

The party was 4 days away and you were organising everything you’d need before then. With the menu decided upon somewhat, using today’s delivery as research as to what people in the office liked. You wanted to make something that was one, a crowd-pleaser and two, something that would make people smile. Seeing smiles on your customers faces was the most important thing to you, you weren’t one for confrontation, preferring social harmony. Though sometimes that wasn’t possible, you hoped that someone felt a bit lighter, a bit happier after eating one of your sweet treats.

“TURN LEFT AND YOU WILL HAVE ARRIVED AT YOUR DESTINATION.”

Google maps snapped you out of your thoughts, taking a turn to the left and seeing the tall tower which Steve mentioned in his messages was the office. He said that its impossible not to notice the building due to the sheer size of it but also the design, a collaboration piece between Tony Stark and his wife Pepper. After finding a spot and paying for parking, you began to haul the cake boxes out of your car, swaying a little as you became off-balance but re-centered yourself quickly as not to drop the cakes. With boots clicking against the sidewalk, you approached the large doors of the building, feeling intimidated by the sheer size of it all. The atmosphere was heavy, the enclosed space of the reception space felt unnerving. Your bright green coat stood out amongst the monotone colour palette of grey, silver and hints of blue, you stuck out like a sore thumb to the receptionist

“May I help you? Do you have an appointment upstairs?” The tight-lipped receptionist eyed you as you struggled to hold the two boxes in your arms, you nodded “I’m here to see Steve Rogers, this is a delivery for him and the people in the building.” You cracked a smile to lighten the mood, but she simply glanced back down to the computer and then back at you “Ah yes, Mr Rogers had you down for 12 o’clock. It’s not 12 o’clock.” The receptionist glared at you, face blank as you eyed the clock for a moment “Well its 11:55, its better to be early than to be late as my grandma used to say.” you held the boxes, hands slightly sweaty.

The receptionist for a moment opened her mouth, obviously ready to lay it on into you when a voice interrupted the uncomfortable quiet “Alright Janet, no need to be a sourpuss to the visitors, don’t want to make enemies before the Christmas party.” Sam walked in, holding his briefcase, he must’ve come back from a case elsewhere and arrived at just the right time. Sam approached the desk as Janet stuttered “I’ll just lead this little lady up since we’re heading to the same floor, okay Janet?” Janet grumbled and nodded, going back to her Sudoku book which she had on her desk. Sam grinned “Follow me then, want me to take one of those boxes for you?” he asked “Yes please, I don’t want to drop these on the carpet!” giggling as immediately Sam lightened the air as the two of you entered the lift.

Sam held one of the boxes and tried to open the lid to catch a peek at what goodies you’d brought “Hands off Wilson! No snatching till we get to the office floor!” Sam retracted his hand “Okay Mooom~.” he teased, making you laugh “Steve was right! you and Bucky are 5 year olds trapped in adult bodies!” making a comeback as Sam quirked a brow “So you and Steve been talking huh? About me and Bucky as well? aw shucks I ought to blush!” Further proving Steve’s point which he’d made in texts, that didn’t stop you from blushing at Sam’s insinuating tone at you and Steve talking together. You were saved by the bell as a gentle *bing* rang and the doors to the lift opened revealing the office floor.

Sam led you out and glanced around the office, the only sound was that of keys clacking from quick typing from the many desks which littered the room. Glancing around, you saw a sea of people just sat at their desks, eyes on their computer screens which only small whispers of chattering could be heard. Sam touched your shoulder “Let's go see the big boss before these delicious smelling treats get snatched up.” carrying the box of treats under one arm as he led you through the office to a separate office. The walls of the office were made of glass, the room was sleek and modern in style, in the corner of the office was someone wearing a deep blue, almost black suit. When the person turned around, it felt like that moment back in the bakery as you locked eyes with Steve through the glass, your little heart couldn’t handle this. His soft golden hair styled away back from his face, the beard shaping his features giving him the rugged look but also still professional and powerful in this work-setting. Raising your hand gently, you waved to him softly as you saw him crack a smile when you did so.

Sam opened the door to Steve’s office, light was shining in through the glass walls and shining onto Steve’s face gently, the same brief beam of winter sunshine hit your eyes as you entered the office with Sam, making you squint for a moment. Hands holding one of the cake boxes, you walked up to Steve happily “Delivery for Steve Rogers.” you joked as Steve smiled “Why thank you, Ma’am.” he winked faintly and glanced at the two boxes of cakes “We should get these out on the office floor, Sam’s drooling on the box.” making you laugh, to Sam’s dismay. Steve held the door to his office open for you and guided you towards a table where stood a coffee maker, a water cooler and a sad looking fruit bowl with clearly neglected apples and oranges. Placing the boxes down on the table, you began pulling paper plates and recyclable cutlery from your backpack, all would be able to be recycled when you brought the rubbish back to the bakery.

Gently, you lifted the lid from the cake box, revealing colourful desserts filling the box to the brim, varieties of danishes, pastries to cakes and muffins. Each muffin baked beautifully, golden and risen and puffed up, airy and not too heavy. Cupcakes were iced intricately, the icing never fell or drooped down, the sweet coating swirled and pulled up into a peak which hadn’t been dented. Decorations littered the cupcakes top, varying from candy canes to snowflake sprinkles, some had little festive toppers such as a Santa face or reindeer made of icing. People from their desks watched as you set up the table, Steve helping you which made them raise a brow in confusion, never seeing their boss like this before. Standing back from the table, you watched as one by one, people rose from their desks and wandered over to the table to investigate. Nerves rose from your stomach to your face, cheeks becoming warm and as did your whole body, Steve’s hand brushed against your shoulder “Would you like to take off your coat, you look rather warm.” With your head turning to look at him, you nodded and unzipped your coat and peeled it off your arms, still wearing your apron from this morning underneath, not a dirty apron but an apron nonetheless.

The festive apron standing out against the formal business wear which everyone was wearing, most definitely.

But you broke out of that thought as you saw these tired business-folk, fatigued from their work and the energy of the holidays, brighten up as they took a bite into the treats you brought in for them. Sam had sneaked in and taken a few danishes for himself, Steve still stood beside you as you felt your heart swell. The down-trodden atmosphere of the office when you entered now gone, like you cast a magic spell over them and rid them of their fatigue for a just a moment during their lunch-break. Steve chuckled and looked at his employees, chatting together happily as they devoured the sweet treats you had brought in.

A few people came up to you, empty paper plates covered in the remains of whichever treat they’d devoured, eyes almost childlike as they began to compliment you on your treats. As a small business owner, reaching out to a large audience like this was extraordinary, you had your usual customers and a few delivery jobs you did for the bakery, but you never had this sort of outreach before. People asking about where you were based and being interested in your growing bakery, quickly reaching into your jacket pocket, said jacket placed on a chair close to the table. Handing out a few business cards to the interested people, smiling and chatting with everyone. Occasionally turning your head to look at Steve, who was still stood by your side and smiling.

Steve’s other close friends and colleagues came up to you such as Wanda and Nat, holding their own paper plates in hand. They seemed like they would get on so well with your best friend, Dot, especially Nat with her strong personality. But you could tell she had a sweet side to her, especially by the choice of dessert she chose, a simple cupcake with sprinkles powdered atop it.

Wanda smiled “So you’re the baker that’s catering for the party?” her voice sweet and kind, you nodded “Yes! I’m doing market research to see what you guys like before the party, want to make a people pleaser kind of treat!” smoothing out the wrinkles of your apron “I think everything you brought is a people pleaser to be fair.” Nat pointed her finger to the near empty cake-boxes where only two cupcakes left, the entire spread had been devoured “W-Wow!” you retrieved the remaining cupcakes and had one yourself “I think anything you make will be a crowd-pleaser (YN), literally anything.” Nat laughed and licked smeared icing off of her finger. Smiling, you glanced to Steve who’d retreated into his office when you weren’t looking and glancing to a frame which was on his desk.

That’s when you remembered.

Reaching into your bag, you pulled out a small paper bag which was adorned with festive design but also your logo for the bakery “Excuse me for just a moment.” You walked through the small crowd of people surrounding the tiny table in the office, bag in hand. Squeezing past the crowds of people to reach the door to Steve’s office, his eyes still affixed to the photo frame. Softly, you knocked on the door, breaking Steve’s eyes from staring at the frame and locked on you. He gave you his usual smile, using his hand to motion for you to enter, ushering you inside.

Heading into his office with the door closing behind you, stepping up to his desk where he was sat “For you.” handing the paper bag to him which held another treat you’d chosen for him specifically. By now, you’d learnt what he liked in his desserts. Steve grinned “You are full of surprises, Miss (YN).” He took a peek into the bag to see what you’d brought him “I try my best Mr Rogers.” shrugging and looking around his office, sneaking a look at the photo he’d been looking at on his desk.

It was a photograph of a younger Steve, not much younger but by the lack of beard you could tell that this was some time ago, in his arms he held a small baby, definitely Sarah, who looked no older than 5 months in this photograph. Her little head dusted with golden blonde hair that looked almost white in the light of the photograph. Steve, who had opened the bag for the sweet treat and had just taken a bite, had spotted you looking at the photograph “That’s from Sarah’s first December, she was so entranced by the snow.” Speaking fondly of his daughter.

Smiling, you looked at Steve “She’s an amazing little girl, Steve. She’ll steal so many hearts. I can already tell.” You admitted, those round brown eyes which resembled warm honey, could and would melt anyone’s heart. Steve chuckled “She’s stolen mine completely and utterly, guess that just come’s with being a parent.” he took another bite of the muffin you’d chosen for him today. Glancing to Steve, you just nodded and sighed contently as your eyes looked around his office.

“You know you always hum Christmas songs when you’re daydreaming?” Steve broke your wandering eyes which were gazing out of the window of his office “Got a problem with that mister? I happen to like being in a festive spirit.” Cheeks adorned with a soft shade of pink as Steve chuckled “Okay Mrs Clause! I get it! Just because I’m not as big of a fan of Christmas as you, no need to be like that.” You laughed at that “Mrs Claus? Well okay then, Mr Grinch!” winking as Steve laughed loudly, sitting back in his chair. The sound of his laughter ringing throughout the office which made everyone’s head turn for a moment and they tilted their heads, hearing the sound of their usually stoic boss laughing an almost jolly laugh. Steve placed his hand over his mouth for a moment as you smiled widely “As retaliation for your dislike for anything festive, I will leave this here on your desk! To spread some Christmas cheer!” joking around with him as you retrieved one of the icing cake toppers that was on your cupcake and placed it atop his name plaque.

A small red robin placed atop his plaque “There!” sticking out your tongue as you affixed it onto the plaque, concentrating. Smiling as you saw him raise his brows “You are ridiculous but that’s what I like about you.” Steve eyed the robin cake topper and looked up at you “Then I will continue to be ridiculous, Mr Grinch.” crossing your arms just like he usually did and faked a grumpy face which immediately dropped when you noticed the time “Oh dammit! My parking runs out in 5 minutes!” Not wanting to get a ticket on such a happy day for you, Steve shook his head “Time to make a break for it.” to which you nodded and waved bye to Steve “I’ll see you later Steve! I’ll text you your bill for today.” winking jokingly as you left his office and gathered the rubbish and empty cake boxes, going to take those back to be composted at the bakery.

“I’ll look forward to it!” Steve called out as you entered the lift and descend down to the ground floor, rushing to your car before you got a ticket. Rushing past reception, you stopped for a split second and retrieved the final cupcake from the box and placed it on Janet’s desk “Have a nice day, Janet!” Hoping that would make the disgruntled receptionist finally smile. Which it did, you rushed out the door to your car and just getting their by the skin of your teeth. Piling all the rubbish into the back of your car and into the boot. Taking a final glance up to the Avengers Building before getting into the driver’s seat and starting your journey back to the bakery.

Meanwhile, still up in the building. Two women stood with their backs resting against the wall as they were standing in silence. Nat’s fiery red hair cut so that it hit her jawline with a strand swept behind her ear, the pearl earring exposed, her eyes trained on her long-time friend who was in the office across from her. She cared for him like a brother. Truly.

“You know, I’ve not seen him smile like that since you know....” Wanda broke the silence between the two of them and looked at Nat who just sighed and gave a simple nod. She had been watching the two of you from their position in the room intently and especially when (YN) had left. Nat glanced to her friend “I know, Wan. I know.” thinking back for a moment and glancing back to Steve’s office “But I think he’s finally ready. Ready to have that again. He deserves it and I think she’s good for him.” Nat cracking a smile, Wanda couldn’t help but smile when she spotted Steve who was sat at his desk and in his hand he held the robin cake topper and moved it from the name plaque to atop the photograph of him a Sarah. His finger tracing the details of the little robin decoration.

Holding it as if it was the most delicate and his most treasured object. Nat smiled “Yeah I think she’s just what he’s missing.” The missing puzzle piece which was missing from Steve’s life for the past 5 years. And from what Nat could see and hope, you seemed to fit perfectly in that blank space in Steve’s heart. She just hoped that Steve had the grasp the opportunity before it runs away from him, he deserved all the happiness and so did that little girl who he’d raised.

All they needed now was a Christmas miracle.

END OF CHAPTER 3

__________________________________

TAGLIST! - @chuckennuggets1213 @imsonick @nervousstrangersandwich @justthatfangirloverthere @sheadre @125bluemachine125 @giggleberts @kind-sober-fullydressed @fluffyirwinie @kaithezaftig @ilovesupersoldiers @royale-skeleton-key @mcuwillbethedeathofme @https://coldmuffinbanditshoe.tumblr.com/ @amberkay284

63 notes · View notes

kny-secret-santa2019 · 4 years

Text

Hi @seicchan-art @you-are-so-perfect-that-i and I’m your secret santa! I hope my fic is at least fit with your request and that you’ll enjoy it! It’s been a long time since I made any fic so my skill kinda rusty “-v-

KNY secret santa tumblr

Ship: Shinobu/Mitsuri

Prompt: Fluff/domestic, cuddling by the fireplace

____________________________________________________________________________________

In this dark night, snowflakes were falling down from the sky to the ground like autumn leaves. The ground had been painted white thanks from the snow. Glittering stars that shine in the dark canvas of night sky likes jewels from the treasure chest. All the trees have no more green leaves on their branches, except hanging icicles that reflected like mirrors. Every houses and building were decorated with string of colorful neon lights from red to green. There’s even few small Christmas tree that had been beautify with variety looks of decoration ranging from the lights, dolls and shiny balls. Despite the late night, there were few individuals and couples who still walked in the midst of street, bundled themselves with scarves and thick coat.

Among the sea of people, a young woman in purple with butterfly hairpin was walking back to her home. In her hand, there’s a plastic bag with a symbol of a famous bakery not far from her places. The idea of having this cake as a dessert later with her girlfriend put a smile on her face.

She went through a few corners from the train station to her neighborhood in her route. She greeted ‘Merry Christmas’ to an old lady as she passed some small shops and houses. When she finally arrived at a small house, she knocked the door of the house a few times and unlocked the door herself.

“Mitsuri-chan, I’m home~”.

“Welcome home, Shinobu-chan~”

A young woman with her pink/green-haired tied up in two braid answered her. She had an apron over her chest and behind her, the table already filled with simple yet definitely delicious dinner.

The woman, Shinobu-chan, smiled warmly at the sight of Mitsuri-chan. She gave her girlfriend a slight peck on her cheek before taking off her coat and put them over the hanger not far from the door.

Mitsuri looked down and saw the plastic bag that Shinobu brought home, then squealed giddily as she picked them up and investigated the content. As she expected, there’s a cake box with the symbol of her favorite bakery.

“When did you buy the cakes from Kamado’s?!” Mitsuri asked with such joy.

“On the way home from work, they were having an offer during Christmas time,” Shinobu explained. She knew that Mitsuri would be ecstatic to have them.

“I’ve been craving for them, thank you so much Shinobu-chan!” Mitsuri pulled her petite girlfriend into a tight embrace. She was too excited that she did not noticed of her own strength and that Shinobu was having slight trouble in breathing because of her chest. Thank goodness it did not last that long as she finally let her go.

“I’ll keep them in the fridge first. Let’s have dinner here. I already made your favorite,” Mitsuri said as she took out the box from the plastic bag and placed them inside the refrigerator “Later on we could cuddle and watch something on Netflix?”

“Sounds nice,” Shinobu really likes that plan. The two of them had been busy with their own work lately and it just today that Mitsuri happen to have half-day at her workplace. They were lucky that tomorrow is Christmas and their boss were kind enough to give their worker a day off on this festivity. Tonight, they could just wind off from their fatigue and have it easy together.

During dinner, they talked and shared stories on how their day goes by. Mitsuri had been wondering if Kanao-chan and Aoi-chan, Shinobu’s junior, had been doing well at their new workplace. Shinobu laughed hearing the shenaniganry and humorous banter between Shinazugawa-san and Tomioka-san. Shinobu also talked about her big sister, Kanae-san, was making a new type of medicine at their pharmacy. Mitsuri delightfully shared to Shinobu about her current work in progress for her latest illustration and believed she could finish them in no time.

Cheerful laughter and experiences were exchanged on this table and before they knew it, their plates were already empty and there’s only a sip left in their drink.

“Oh, let me clean up this table for you,” Shinobu wanted to stop Mitsuri from picking any of these plates “You already did the dinner so I should be the one handling this,”.

“Nope!” however, Mitsuri shook her head and refused that offer with closed eyes and wide smile “I know you’re tired from work, so let me handle the rest. After all, I’m the one who prepared the food earlier, right? So, let me be the one to clean up this mess,”.

“But— “

“If you wanna help, why don’t you start the fire at fireplace?” Mitsuri tilted her head slightly at the mentioned household object “Get our spot warm and cozy when we’re watching some shows or movies, how about that?”

“Huh… okay,” unable to refute against Mitsuri’s wish, Shinobu could only sighed with a weak smile, yet her eyes stared fondly to her partner. Mitsuri always like that, so honest and helpful. It’s hard to ignore her request with her smile that could shine even in the darkest room.

Shinobu took a match not far from her and lit it up. She threw them into the pile of wood and let them burn. After tending it a bit to adjust the fire, it was finally small and warm enough for the room. Once she was done, she crouched closely to the fireplace and placed both of her open palm nearby. The warmth soothes her cold body that she could not helped herself from taking a long breath in relax manner.

She wanted to stay a bit longer when suddenly, a thick comforter covered her body from behind out of nowhere. The surprise contact pulled Shinobu back to reality from her headspace. She turned around and saw Mitsuri was standing behind with a pair of mugs.

“I made hot cocoa,” Mitsuri lifted those mugs slightly “And Netflix is already on. Why don’t you come with me to the couch, so we drink these while watching some sappy stuff about Christmas?”

“Why, if I don’t know any better, I might be thinking that you’re jealous of this fireplace for getting my attention and try to get me away from it with hot cocoa and Netflix,” Shinobu teased Mitsuri with a cheeky grin. She slung the comforter over her body as carried them to the couch. Before she makes herself comfortable, she made more than enough space for Mitsuri to sit down next to her. She even threw the comforter a bit so that Mitsuri can also join her to cuddle under it together.

“I’m just rather have my girlfriend look at me instead of fire, that’s all,” Mitsuri put down both mug on the coffee table before pulling the comforter over her body and snuggled closely to Shinobu. She wondered which one is her source of warmth; the fireplace or her girlfriend? Either way, she doesn’t want to leave this spot anytime soon.

Shinobu giggled slightly before placing her head on Mitsuri’s shoulder. She took the remote control and browsed the screen for a bit. They ended up picking an old Christmas movie from the 2000’s with romance genre. When the movie started, Mitsuri took a sip from the hot cocoa and hold the mug closely to her chest.

Honestly, they could not care less what they are watching right now. This is just an excuse for them to cuddle during this cold winter. What’s a better way to spend a silent night for a couple than cuddling under the protection of their shared home?

Maybe it was around half an hour later, but Mitsuri’s ear picked up a soft snore. She turned her head slightly and her face became fond. The sight of her sleeping girlfriend with comfortable and vulnerable look made her heart melted. She must have been so weary after a whole day of work.

“Merry Chistmas, Shinobu-chan…” Mitsuri whispered softly, gently caressed her hair and kissed her forehead. She pulled her girlfriend closer and made sure the comforter covered her body mostly. She then proceeds to watch the movie on her own.

The snowflakes were getting more and more outside and the temperature gradually dropped, yet there’s nothing but love and warmness in the home of this couple who full of love.

#shinobu kochou #mitsuri kanroji #shinobu x mitsuri #shinomitsu #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #submission

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heoneyology · 4 years

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snow angels | l.jh

A/N: this is an entirely self indulgent soft bias fic for the holidays because I was away from home asdfgjk

Word Count: 3222

Genre: fluff

Pairing: reader x lee jooheon (monsta x)

Warnings: soft fluff and some cheesiness at the end, gender neutral reader

Summary: You were supposed to have the holidays off, and go home on vacation, but due to some unforeseen circumstances—not only are you stuck working, but you’re also stuck at the airport thanks to a winter storm. Stressed and disappointed out of your mind, Jooheon’s silent thoughtfulness over the situation slowly cheers you up.

It would be an understatement to say that this year was ending terribly. Describing it as simply terrible would be lightening the load of the situation. With the intensity at which you were silently seething—though you aren’t even entirely certain you’re seething, with how upset you are. Your eyes sting enough that you think you can cry, but there’s a weight on your shoulder that makes you think maybe you’re just saddened—yet the way in which you keep replaying the flight delay announcement over and over in your head, like a broken record, suggests you’re seething; festering in your mix of feelings. You can’t find it in yourself to make light of the situation in the slightest, or even attempt to find something positive to focus on otherwise.

You weren’t even supposed to be here, working, and now stuck in an airport thanks to a weather-induced flight delay. One of the staff had gotten sick last minute with the flu, and cut your vacation time you’d specifically saved up for the holidays short. You were supposed to have been on a flight yesterday, headed back to the States, for your holiday festivities. The company had called you just as you had finished packing your suitcase, expressing to you how this was an emergency and since there were only two of you that knew how to manage this part of the job, you were needed. They apologized profusely and promised compensation for your plane ticket—which was all good, but it still didn’t make for a fair trade. Especially considering you were now stuck in an entirely different airport, bound for the States still—but for work.

The flight is delayed until further notice due to bad weather conditions. The announcement over the intercom had said. The words haunted you, replaying in your head, and you wished you could block them out. Even when you close your eyes, resting your head against the cool glass overlooking the snow-dusted runway outside, you can’t rid yourself of the echo of that announcement.

A part of you tells yourself you probably shouldn’t be this upset about the weather causing the flight delay. The storm had started at an awkward enough time that there was no telling if your flight yesterday would have been delayed or not, as well. There’s a possibility, work or otherwise, you could’ve been stuck in the same situation.

What was frustrating about all of this was that the airport staff didn’t know when weather conditions would clear enough for your flight to take off. They had said a minimum of five hours. If that was true, you’d still make it to your schedule in time… if not, there was no saying what might happen…

“Hey.”

The soft, gentle voice of Lee Jooheon breaks through the fogginess of your mind. Slowly, you open your eyes, taking a moment to silently stare out the glass of the window your head is rested against, watching snow gather at the window as the wind blows it towards the building, before it fades away, not sticking to the surface. The weather outside almost seems worse now, taunting your mood. You let out a small sigh, pulling away slowly and turning to face the owner of the voice.

The second youngest member of Monsta X has his lips pressed in a hard line, staring down at you with furrowed brows. He wiggles his hands gently, showing off two cups in either hand.

“There’s hot chocolate,” he lifts one hand as he says this, and then the other, “or a latte. Do you have a preference?”

“You shouldn’t be drinking sugary things,” you murmur, reaching out for the hot chocolate. He relinquishes the cup to you, before taking a seat on the bench next to you.

Jooheon gives your shoulder a nudge with his own. “Just say you want the hot cocoa, it’s okay.”

You scoff, taking a small, careful sip from the cup. In fact, the hot chocolate doesn’t feel festive in the slightest—you’re almost certain that’s why Jooheon brought it over to you, knowing your original plans for the holidays—and you’d like nothing more than to not drink it at all. Or even coffee, at this point. What sounds nice, instead, is burying yourself under a large blanket and disappearing from the world for an extended period. You’d rather not be here, let alone be functioning.

That entire thought kind of kills the holiday spirit, and it’s not a thought you can voice aloud. No one else present had plans prior like you—which meant everyone else was in higher spirits than you, though possibly a little stressed due to the delay. Since they had already been expecting to work through the holidays and were used to the company they kept, they weren’t as bummed about this entire thing like you were. It makes it difficult, in hindsight, to turn down Jooheon’s offer of hot chocolate.

“I’m sorry,” Jooheon mumbles next to you, causing you to glance over in surprise.

“Why?”

“You had plans to see your family, and instead you’re stuck here. If Minji hadn’t gotten sick, you could still have your vacation… you wouldn’t be here in an airport, stuck, clearly miserable since it’s the holidays. You haven’t seen your family in almost two years since moving abroad…” Jooheon frowns, turning the paper Starbucks cup in a circular motion nervously. “It’s been hard for you. I know the guys and I don’t make it any easier sometimes. I’m sorry…”

Letting out a small sigh, you shake your head. “It’s not your fault, none of this is. It can’t be helped. There’s just some things we don’t have control over.”

Jooheon gives a shrug. “I can still feel guilty though. If we didn’t have a schedule none of us would even be here. And clearly you’re unhappy which makes me feel worse…”

“Jooheon, stop. There’s nothing we can do at this point. I appreciate your concern though.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles one last time, giving a nod.

You frown, though say nothing, instead taking a silent sip of the hot chocolate one more time. It’s hard to convey your emotions correctly at the time, everything you’re feeling twinged with that lingering unhappiness you’re understandably plagued by. However, you do appreciate his concern. The fact that Jooheon even remembers that you hadn’t been home in almost two years—a fact you had mentioned in passing, not even leading up to this expected vacation but instead, quite a while back during an unrelated conversation—meant quite a bit to you. Him voicing that aloud between the two of you had stirred some sort of unidentifiable emotion within you, something softer. It lingered at your core, mingling with the turmoil inside of you; soothing.

Despite that, you had no way to convey your thoughts correctly. You were still upset, but somehow feeling a bit comforted by Jooheon’s simple memory at a conversation you shared and his kind act—it was a confusing mix of emotions, to say the least.

“Jooheon!” You both glance up at his name being called by another staff member. Briefly, you take a look at him, gazes crossing, before he gives a small smile—small enough his dimples still soften his complexion—before standing up and heading off. Another sigh escapes you, and you glance down dejectedly at the hot chocolate in your hands.

It’s even less appealing without Jooheon here. The idea of having to stomach the sugary drink makes you feel queasy.

The paper cup is set aside, forgotten, and you soon return to your position of resting your head against the cool glass of the window. Outside, the snow continues to drift around in flurries. You allow your eyes to drift close, barely paying attention to the weather that has you currently snowed in. The chill of the glass provides some comfort, slowly easing away the headache building up from the most recent bout of stress this has all caused.

You aren’t entirely sure how long you sit there, partially napping against the window—Jooheon’s hot chocolate abandoned, forgotten; the cold from outside seeping into your skin. At some point, though, the intercom overhead crackles out an announcement and jostles you fully awake. The woman’s tired voice over the intercom grumbles out a weather update—one you take note that other staff with the team listen to intently, though there isn’t any particular change. You briefly allow your eyes to glance out at the snow just beyond the window. As you do so, the airport falls into a sort of strange hush again—not quiet enough to be a full silence, but the level of peoples’ speaking is just loud enough to create a white static noise in the background.

Suddenly, you’re aware of just how cold you are sitting next to the window, and you push yourself up from your seat. Gathering your suitcase and carry-on bag, you shift your position to the seats right across, setting your belongings next to a staff member who glances up from their phone.

“I’m moving this here while I go to the restroom,” you say, barely making eye contact with the staff. It’s not that you don’t all get along well—but everyone is tired from this situation to the point where no one seems to be taking note of anything in particular anymore, disinterested and stressed beyond belief. The staff nods, before you pull your winter coat tighter around you and head off to wander the airport.

When you find the airport bathroom and finish your business, you’re almost tempted to stay camped out next to the hand blow dryer for the remainder of the night. Not only do you appreciate the warmth the water provides as you wash your hands, but the hot air blowing out of the air dryer feels just as comforting—and temptingly warm. You have to steel yourself to leave the bathroom despite the warmth, though find yourself immediately regretting it once you’ve stepped back out into the open airport and the slight chill hits you again. Technically, you’re still working, though, and know you have to return.

You don’t make it very far to returning, though—barely making it five or so steps before your hand is snatched mid-swing, and you’re stumbling back the few steps you’d managed to take.

“Oh!” The tone is a familiar one, though surprised. Instinctively, instead of retracting, slender fingers wrap around your own fingers tighter.

Righting yourself up, you glance upward. “Jooheon?”

“Your hand is really warm.” He sounds a little dumbfounded, and blinks at you.

You quirk a brow. “Did you know the bathrooms have built in hand warmers?”

“Oh! Nice!” Jooheon’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise—and you find yourself surprised to catch a small glimpse of the tiny little eyelid mole on his left lid as he does so. “Are you pre-warmed enough now?”

“Yes? I think? I’m much warmer than before. The window really wasn’t a good place to take a nap…” You trail off, wondering what he meant by pre-warmed. A little confused, you give him a slow blink, before you give a small tug of your hand from his grasp in order to pull away from him—you’re one of his staff, true, but if any fans happened to be lurking around, things could be taken the wrong way.

Jooheon’s grip, however, tightens. “Good, because it’s about to get cold.”

Before you can register his words, an impish grin spreads across his face, and he’s tightening his grip on your hand that you’re attempting to reclaim. He turns, tugging you along in the opposite direction of where the rest of his group members and staff are resting. You have no choice but to stumble along after him—hoping he knows where he’s going. After just a few turns of some rather large corners, you’re already lost.

All you’re really aware of is that you seem to be descending—which doesn’t seem like a very good thing.

“Jooheon, where are we going?”

“On an excursion.”

“Well, clearly,” you retort, trying to keep your tone as light as possible. But really, you don’t need added stress to this night. “We’ve already been on more floors than I remember there being at this airport. Where are we going?”

Jooheon glances over his shoulder at you. “It’s a surprise, okay? Just trust me? The hot cocoa didn’t seem to cheer you up, so I’m resorting to extreme measures.”

You frown at him, wondering again why he’d asked if you were pre-warmed and what these extreme measures could possibly be… but Jooheon had never given you a reason to not trust him. So, you find yourself falling silent and trailing along behind him, focusing instead on the sounds of your footsteps against the linoleum underfoot.

Things don’t start to sink in—at least for where you’re going, not why—until you’re standing right in front of the glass doors of the airport entrance. Before Jooheon is even pushing the doors open, you can feel how cold it is outside. Cold and barren, the entry of the airport has never looked emptier than it had right then.

“J-Jooheon, it’s too cold—” But your protest falls upon deaf ears, Jooheon already shoving the door open and pulling you against your feet locking up. You’re practically dragged outside against your will by the idol into the snow flurry. The cold hits you like a ton of bricks, slamming against your face rather harshly.

Strangely enough, though, there’s a weird calm that overtakes you as the door to the airport falls closed behind you. The silence hits you immediately—that strange snow silence, where there’s sound but simultaneously there’s also no sound, the snow absorbing everything. Yet you can still hear it—you aren’t really sure how to explain the sensation. A shiver passes through you, and Jooheon instinctively pulls you closer to his side. The two of you stand there, studying the snowfall together for a moment. You watch the flakes twist and turn in swirls, before the breeze shifts just enough and the entire flurry diverts its direction all together at once.

“Are you ready?” Jooheon suddenly breaks the strange suspended silence, glancing sideways at you.

“What?”

He gives a small, amused, smirk—just enough of one that a dimple pops on one cheek—and then, he’s running. You let out a startled squeal of surprised, being dragged along with him. The cold of the snow hits you all at once, then. There’s at least a foot of snow that’s gathered, enough that you’re trudging as you run together, and more falling still as it clings to every part of you that the flakes can touch as they land. You feel the cold on your head where the snow gathers and at your feet as you’re forced to run along after Jooheon.

“Are you ready?!” He calls again, over that strange heavy sound the snow gives off, and you’re about to ask what he means—but there’s no time; he lets go of your hand, glances around at the area quickly, and gives you a small shove—and gravity takes over.

You let out a much louder squeal this time, falling backwards into the snow—thankfully there’s enough that the landing is padded.

“Lee Jooheon!”

He’s laughing though—somewhere off in the distance; you’re now too cold to even consider moving from where you lie in the snow, grateful suddenly for the winter coat your parents had gifted you before you’d moved away.

Then, his laughter is closer, and you hear a soft plop. Turning your head, you’re met with a full grin and a face full of dimples, Jooheon staring at you.

“I’m going to murder you,” you grumble.

“Not until the snow angels are finished.”

“What?” You sit up, staring down at him incredulously.

Jooheon blinks up at you, his brown eyes melting with a warmth that you thought you’d only find somewhere that wasn’t here—here, where you were stuck during the holiday working. Though you had to admit, who you were working for made this all seem a little less bad…

“Please make snow angels with me while we wait for our delayed flight?”

And the way he says it has something inside of you cracking. Despite how cold it is outside, the cold feels different than when you had been perched up against the window, as though you were icing over. Now, the cold felt soft, somehow. Padded, like your landing had been. There’s no way you can say no.

Jooheon’s grin soothes itself down into a smile as you lay back down quietly beside him. The only sound that touches either of your ears is the sounds of your jackets shifting as your limbs move, working against the snow. Back and forth, up and down—you swipe your legs and arms through the snow, creating the dress skirt and wings for the snow angel.

Both of you work in silence, before you’re sure that your angel is finished. Yet, you lay there still, staring up at the night sky and watching the snow swirl down upon you from this different view. The wall it creates as it descends upon you is strangely soothing.

“It’s pretty,” you murmur, barely aware of the words leaving your lips.

You hear Jooheon shift beside you, and suddenly he’s hovering over you—in your view, blocking the snow.

“Not nearly as pretty as you are,” Jooheon murmurs. You blink up at him, surprised, but don’t know what to say. From above, he studies you, and then suddenly he’s leaning down, gently pressing his lips against yours. You blink in surprise, before your eyes flutter closed at the warmth he provides—his lips bleeding it into you like a blanket slowly engulfing you. His lips move softly against yours, comfortable with no urgency.

You blink your eyes open slowly as Jooheon pulls away, hyper-aware of how plush his lips are once they are no longer locked against yours in the softest, sweetest of kisses you’ve ever experienced. He tastes like the caffeine from earlier, a lingering subtle flavor mixed with one that’s more him; honey and musk.

“Feel better?” He asks, voice hushed and tenor matching the snowfall.

You let out a breathy laugh. “Was your kiss supposed to heal me?”

Jooheon laughs. “No, but I’m sure it can if I try hard enough. Earlier—you were laughing—even though pushing you down and pulling you out into the cold may have not been the best, you could have definitely punched me instead of laugh. I got lucky with that one.”

It wasn’t until then, with Jooheon voicing it aloud, that you’d realized you had, in fact, laughed. Alternatively, you could have taken the situation a lot differently—so he was right with that one, pulling you out into the snow like this and pushing you down had been quite the risk on his part. Yet, amidst your cries of slight panic, you had laughed and smiled. The first since the news of the flight delay had hit. The first since you’d gotten the call into work, even.

“Yeah, I feel better,” you finally amend.

“Good. I know it doesn’t make up for anything, but I’m glad,” Jooheon grins down at you, giving a wink. “Let’s keep my healing kisses a secret between the two of us, though.”

You groan, throwing an arm over your face to cover the blush you can feel forming against the cool air. That was a holiday gift you hadn’t been expecting...

#jooheon fanfic #monsta x fanfic #mx fanfic #jooheon imagine #jooheon scenario #jooheon drabble #monsta x imagine #monsta x scenario #mx imagine #mx scenario #m.writes

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halethkickass · 4 years

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Too Long a Winter (reposted with permission from Clotho)

I found this wonderful fic on http://clotho123.tripod.com/mainlist1/winter.htm and the author kindly gave me permission to share it here on Tumblr. The story is phenomenally well-written and the characterization is excellent. I especially appreciate the dynamic between Maedhros and Maglor, which is far less sentimental and much more in line with how I tend to head-canon them than that of most fics I have read. The story is told from the perspective of a human warrior dwelling in Himring, which lends an interesting viewpoint to the elves we are used to seeing through the eyes of a somewhat removed historian.

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Himring is not a good place for old men. Often I think of riding south again, to the Estolad where there are fewer cold winds to piece my aching bones and no long stone stairs to climb. Yet to leave would mean never again to see the morning sun on silver stone, or turn a corner at night to see a solitary lamp shine on the carved street before me, or watch the magic the Strangers work as they coax flowers to grow on rock itself.

It does help me having lodgings in the summit halls. Himring is steep: in the town that lies beneath the peak a paved courtyard will prove to be the roof of the house below, nor is it rare to walk down long stairs and find yourself upon a deep balcony. All space is used for dwellings, although all dwellings will be filled only at the height of siege. Himring was built as a place of refuge as well as a stronghold; it has been full enough these last years. It is fortunate my duties can be discharged with goodwill on the summit where the High Hall rises in the silver rock. My mind goes often to the past now, recalling more clearly than for many years, the wonder I felt to see how so much if the city had been cut from the rock as it stood, the very contours of the stone summit kept alive. Yet Himring is no hidden city, it stands proud as an eagle upon a crag, keeping watch on the lands below.

The Midwinter festival would have been well attended even in the better times before the peace was broken; now the High Hall will be full indeed. It is one thing they have learned from us, the great feast of fire at the year’s darkest point, and they celebrate it much as we do, even if some of the older ones like to recall the days when there were no seasons. We have no tales even of that time, so such stories mark more deeply how much they differ.

The green boughs are another of traditions they have borrowed although I recall from my gathering days that they practice it differently, each bough chosen with care, seldom more than two from one tree or bush and from some none at all. “Trees,” one said to me once, “ can spare a limb if chosen right, indeed are often the better for it, but why would anyone wish to leave a tree limbless?” The gathered braches look strangely fitting in the High Hall, for the rock-cut columns are carved as tree trunks, not all alike but trees of all kinds: oak and birch, beech, ash and pine. With the evergreen boughs in place it will be a strange kind of forest in which we sit to feast.

As I turned to leave the half-prepared hall I heard my name spoken sharply. A little too sharply in truth, my sight is thankfully still good enough, but not so my hearing and I guessed I must have failed to hear at least one call. That is not fortunate with this speaker.

“Lord Makalaurë,” I greeted him. He insists on being addressed by the High form of his name, although everyone calls him Maglor outside his hearing.

“Headman Hallach.” I still hold the title of Headman for the Edain of Himring although Berach my nephew leads them in war. He was out of the citadel of course; with fighting so constant he is rarely here. “We have had word my brothers in the south will not be joining us for the feasting,” Lord Maglor continued, “so that will lessen the amount of accommodation that you will need to find.”

“We could have housed them,” I said, “but it is better to know beforehand.” Our word ‘inhuman’ is an old one, from the times before we came to these lands, it carries a meaning of something that is uncanny, disturbing. It is held impolite to use it of Elves but it is seldom far from my mind when speaking to this one. Like most of his kind he is handsome with black hair and winged brows that highlight the mobility of his features; still he is unsettling, even to one like myself who has lived amongst the Strangers for most of my life. I cannot put it better than to say it is as though he is constantly listening to a tune that only he can hear, and thinks the less of others for being deaf to it. In fairness, these days I unsettle him too, for he is one of those who are disturbed to the point of disgust by mortal aging although he would feel it beneath him to lessen his courtesy.

“Do you know when my brother is expected back?” he asked.

“No more than you, although I am sure he will be in time for the feasting.”

“Of course,” he said. “But I would wish to see him earlier. Erestor does not know when he will return either. It is inconsiderate.” It was an unfair complaint, as he must have known. A survey of territories, half visit, half scouting expedition, could not be completed to set times and his brother never dawdled not even with snow falling every day upon the hills. We would always vary those chosen to ride with the lord of Himring, for no-one was expect to make two such exhausting rides in succession. Knowing it unlikely that Lord Maglor’s temper would improve during the feasting time I found myself regretting we would not be joined by the twin lords who would have provided some leavening. The absence of Lord Caranthir was less regrettable as no-one would count on his presence to prevent family arguments.

We parted politely. With so much else lost it is petty to regret that the great reverse has led to Lord Maglor being permanently at Himring, but it does nothing to make the mood easier.

~~~

The Feast was much needed. Enough time has passed since the great reverse that the remembrance is no longer a dark cloud on the spirits, at least for mortals; but still the presence of war seems nearer, the mood at Himring darker, than in the days when I first came here from the south. Perhaps that is only an old man talking, but certainly both peoples thronged to the gathering, eager to forget the wars awhile.

The Strangers are masters of light, although I have never known one who feared the dark, and the light in the High Hall was rich and golden. Mead and wines from the south flowed freely, although some of my kindred preferred their ale, and there was no shortage of meat and pastry. Their feasts, however, are not for the belly alone; there was much song and music, dancing, laughter and re-telling of tales. A hall full Elves singing in harmony is not to be forgotten, it almost makes me understand that odd tale that the world was created by a song. By long custom the songs and tales at the Midwinter feast are of good cheer, it is a time to look forward and to hope.

It was the third evening when Lord Maglor took the harp. No, in fact he had taken it on the first two evenings also, but only for a brief light song, the third evening was the time that mattered. I had heard him sing many times, and what they say of him is not too great praise, indeed it falls short as all words must. A singer to draw the stars from the skies and turn back the moon in its course, a singer to make stones dance and streams stand still, despair laugh for joy and gladness weep like rain. Not that he unleashed his full power every time he sang, that third night was the first time that Midwinter.

He sang in the High Tongue, as he always does which makes his power to move Men the more remarkable. Few of us have mastered more of that tongue than a few words and commonly used phrases, such as war cries, and in that I am no different. Yet what he sang was a lament as plainly as the night is dark. The grief wailed in the strings and wept in words beyond my understanding, and through my tears I saw the whole hall was weeping, Men and Elves alike, weeping silently, some with faces hidden by a cloak fold, or buried in their hands or arms. Erestor, the castellan, seemed completely overwhelmed, nor was he the only one among the elf kind. Recalling the scene now it seems to me that the ones we call Flame-eyed, who have dwelt in the West, made up the greatest part of those who had abandoned themselves completely to grief, yet in light of how deeply moved my own senses were I cannot swear my memory is true.

After the song ended, as the nameless mourning at last released its spell, my eyes cleared enough to see the only one who seemed unmoved. Maedhros sat upright and tearless in his accustomed place at the high table, only his face was locked in an intense stillness which showed to one who had dwelt in Himring many years how hard he had bitten down to hide all feeling. He sat with his right elbow resting on the table, forearm upraised so the light fell on the marvellously worked copper sheath that covered it almost entirely. With the copper circlet on his russet hair he looked every bit the King of the West March his followers call him.

“Remarkable as always,” he said in the cool even tone that spoke of steel control. “Could do with a little taughtening in the central section still, you are capable of better rhythms.”

Maglor’s expression hardened and as they met each other’s eyes it seemed the winter outside entered the room. In that moment they looked very much alike, and no fool would have mistaken either of them for young.

“You take a pride in it, brother, do you not,” Maglor said at last in a tone smooth as gold. “You think you are the better that old loyalties, true duties, have been ripped from you and burned to cinders.”

Maedhros’s voice was cold as snow upon the high peaks, “If to spellcraft tears at time of festival is loyalty, Maglor, then I will not disagree.” Spellcraft was close to being insult, the word was not used of things natural. “Well, tears it must be for this night. Bron, give us a song of your people.”

The young harper thus commanded was one of the followers of Bor only lately taken service with Lord Maglor. It seemed to me hard to give him such a command and I wondered if he would be able to obey, but it seemed he took it with pride, as a young brave might accept the most dangerous post in battle. I doubt if any in the hall paid much heed to his song though.

The next day I cornered Castellan Erestor. Although he is one of the Flame-eyed who have dwelt in the West he seems less far removed from our kind than many Elves.

“What,” I said “was that about? What was that song?”

“The song?” said Erestor. He seemed to consider for a long time. I waited. Elves cannot be rushed. “The song was a lament for their father. For Fëanor.”

“For Fëanor?” I had heard tales, but only fragments. Fëanor was dead before the first Men came to Beleriand from the east. Maedhros speaks of him very rarely, and then in the calm tone he might use for a passing acquaintance, dead long ago. “A lament was a poor choice for a feast, but is that all?”

“No,” said Erestor. “The lament praised his skill, and his courage against the creatures of Morgoth, but it praised also his steadfastness in upholding what was due to him, his intolerance of weakness or those that followed with half a heart.”

“I begin to see, I think. That could seem reproach to his brother, for letting the kingship pass from their house.” I knew that much of their history.

“It was a more than reproach, and not for the first time. Lord Maglor has seldom agreed with his brother’s choices.”

“Yet he remains at Himring.”

“Whilst Lothlann is in enemy hands he will remain, I think.” A mortal would probably have sighed at this point. “You do not need to be told it makes matters difficult, Hallach. At least when all the brothers are present Maglor and Celegorm spend half their time quarrelling with one another.”

After we had parted I spent some time thinking over this, and all the other things known of the king and his next brother. I had come to Himring, following the tradition of my house, with a head full of tales. Not all were reliable, or true at all, and of those which were true I knew only a small part. But I had heard truly that Maglor the Singer was of all the East lords the most likely to be found riding or fighting with his brother Maedhros Left-hand. I had thought that meant they must be close friends; it is more like the old saying ‘keep your enemy close in sight.’

True, that is not entirely fair, but the years have shown me Elves are not as unlike us as the first meetings make all Men think, so it should not have surprised me that where brothers are closest in age the divisions are bitterest. So it is with myself and my nearest brother, although we are brothers still and would not hesitate to unite against any outside challenge. How far this ran true with the Elf lords is hard to say, certainly the divisions between them made my own with my brother seem nothing at all. I knew at least that Lord Maglor did not spend time with his brother Maedhros for the pleasure of shared company.

~~~

Two days later they walked in while I was listing the new recruits from my southern kindred in one of the summit chambers, one with walls painted so you seem to look out on scenes of moonlight. It was still being made when I first came here, and I recall my surprise to see the Lord of Himring himself working on one of the painted scenes, completing the figure of an owl with the lightest of brush strokes. He laughed at my expression and told me, “The need to create is never far from any Noldo. I cannot claim my skill is remarkable, but it suffices.”

Between the work and my hardness of hearing I was not aware of their approach until they had already entered. As a young man I would have been abashed and slipped away, but being no longer young stayed at the table. Since they were arguing in the High Tongue it was impossible to tell what they were saying in any case.

Lord Maglor does not shout. Family meetings have been known to make the castle walls shake, but most of the yelling is done by Celegorm and Caranthir, although Maedhros can raise his voice loud enough when he wishes. Maglor makes his arguments with level quiet. It does not do him any good: he never wins. Although there is nothing at all amusing about the lord of Lothlann in his moods of cold attack, he does make me think at times at times of a pair of young dogs I once owned. The smaller of the two would attack the other over and over, without any warning; he never won the battles but he kept it up in the constant hope that one day he would win after all.

Whilst my mind had been running on that as my mind often runs on these days, the quarrel seemed to be reaching some kind of high point. I have seen Maglor in battle and his face as he skewered the orcs of the enemy had not seemed any less pleasant. I could not understand the words he was using, but took their meaning as clearly as the meaning of his lament in the great hall. Maedhros’s answer was short and very ugly. Again I could not understand the words, nor I am sure did Maglor, but that was unneeded.

Elves do not have curse words. The need for them is something they seem to have discovered only in these lands. Most of those who feel that need use words they have learned from us. I have heard Lord Curufin use the dwarf tongue at times, although with that speech it is possible that what sounds like a curse may be merely ‘Good Morning.’ I have never heard Maedhros use mannish curse words, nor have I ever known him lose control. He had not used the Black Speech lightly.

I looked at Maglor and felt sure he had been shaken although he tried to cover it. Maedhros took advantage to follow through with two or three short, cold sentences in the High Tongue. Maglor’s reply was sharp, but he sounded wrong-footed, and after a brief, savage final exchange he flung out of the room.

Maedhros did not attempt to ignore my presence, instead he took a flagon and poured half a cup of wine for me and some into a second cup for himself.

“I would not have chosen for you to hear that, Hallach, but I do not suppose it surprised you.”

“I cannot say I understood what passed, my lord,”

“You may not have known the words, but you understood enough.”

Even Elves, even the Flame-eyed, have been known to speak of something unsettling about the presence of Maedhros of the East March. It is not the same quality possessed by his brother; perhaps it is not so much any quality that differs from others of his kind as that he possesses their qualities more intensely, or that there is in him less of a barrier between the world and the thing Elves call the spirit. There is a force about most of the Flame-eyed like a high wind or a river in spate, but with Maedhros it is like facing into the wind directly instead of being in the lee of a wall, or seeing a flame that is naked rather than one held in a horn lantern.

I have served him most of my life and followed him into battle even when none thought that we could win. And the old, I have learned, do not feel awe easily “He has never forgiven you for yielding the kingdom,” I said.

“That is part of it, although we were not on the most easy of terms before.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “Maglor would not even like to be king. He is like our father in that way, the duties of kingship would take time from the works where his heart truly lies, and he would resent that. No, the injury is to his pride and there is small healing there.”

He drained the cup. “There was a time,” he said, “when fighting with my brothers was invigorating. Like a day’s hard riding or a successful skirmish. Now it grows wearisome, the more so because I fear for them. They may lose us the war yet.”

We are used to thinking of the Strangers as changeless, and as my limbs ache more and more and my hearing fails I cannot but envy them, ever young as they are, forever straight of back and free in movement. It does not do to dwell on the envy, some of my kin have been eaten up with bitterness as they grow older and that does no good to anyone. I have looked at them and have seen only the constants, now for the first time I wondered if there have been changes. Lord Maglor was never on friendly terms with his brother; I could not say if there have been changes beyond what would be expected from his being so continually at Himring. Maedhros the king, has he changed? Am I right to think there are more times of cold control, such as he showed his brother in the hall?

“Perhaps we should retake Lothlann before Thargelion,” I said. The plans for recapture of the lost lands are still in an early stage and known only to a few, it had not been settled which lands to retake first.

Maedhros laughed, with genuine amusement. “No, strategy had better not be determined by which of my brothers is most annoying at present, tempting though it is. Which is taken first must depend on the Naugrim; we will need their aid to retake Thargelion. If I cannot convince them to give it until we can show them victories then we must retake Lothlann first, but it would be easier to take Lothlann if we already have Thargelion.” His voice took on a wry tone as he added, “Whichever we take first Maglor and Caranthir will quarrel violently.”

Whichever we took would be a hard campaign, with Dorthonion in enemy hands. He spoke as if there was no doubt of victory, but it is the task of a leader to show confidence.

“It must be soon, with or without the Naugrim” he went on “We cannot afford to leave Morgoth with the upper hand for long. I will go to Belegost.” Although he still spoke calmly I recalled that we cannot expect Angband to rest quiet now the Siege is broken. Himring is strong, but Angband is stronger and the alliance among the elf-kind is vulnerable. For the first time I was glad of my mortal age, and the thought that I would most likely not see what lay ahead. He would see it.

“I will fetch the latest maps, and Castellan Erestor if he can be found,” I said, “we can work on possible plans for a while.” Inwardly I resigned myself to loss of sleep, no elf ever remembers how much more of it we need.

The maps are kept in a chamber painted as a glade in springtime. I lingered for a while after I had found the ones wanted, and hoped that when spring came indeed it would bring promise of the victories that all within these walls would need.

Endnote: Just to say there is canon evidence (admittedly slight) for Maedhros being styled king, and also for the retaking of Lothlann and Thargelion

Source: http://clotho123.tripod.com/mainlist1/winter.htm

#maedhros #maglor #himring #silmarillion

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btsybrkr · 4 years

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2020 Vision: What To Expect From The Next Decade (By Someone Who Has No Idea, Obviously.)

Happy New Year, all!! I had planned to do a little run-down last week of everything that happened in the 2010s, but instead succumbed to the existential struggle that comes with the week that follows Christmas Day, in which your time becomes largely swallowed up by asking yourself ‘what day is it?’ and ‘at what point am I supposed to stop living on a diet of alcohol and Quality Street?’. It’s festive purgatory, and you’re literally powerless to do anything other than sleep, eat, and moan that the shops are still playing Christmas music. That’s my excuse, anyway.

So, instead, I thought we’d say a collective “cinnabit, lad” to 2019 and a collective “what is UP, dude?” to the Roaring 20s 2.0, the only sequel that humanity has waited a whole 100 years for. Apart from Avatar 2, which I imagine will come out at some point in the 3020s. What do we know so far about what the 2020s have in store for us? Obviously, not a lot, but as someone who successfully predicted the outcome of the last election, and the UK’s last four Eurovision losses - two things which I’m sure absolutely nobody ever saw coming - I thought I’d give out my own valuable speculation. Here’s what the 2020s might look like, according to me.

Politics

Let’s get it out of the way - we’re in a terrible state. At this point, every important issue is so divisive, that the nation is divided over everything, including whether we’re actually divided or not. Do I think we’ll become any less divided in the coming years, in a United Kingdom where the conversation is so often dominated by things we can absolutely never seem to agree on? Yes. We will have no choice. Why?

All-out war.

Yes, I said it. In 2021, there will be all-out war. With America, probably. I don’t know why. Maybe Trump will get into an argument with Boris Johnson over who can manage to effortlessly look the most like a Viz caricature of themselves - they both already do somehow, I’m just saying they might disagree on which one of them is the best at it. Could be that, or possibly a more serious cause, to do with nuclear weapons or something, but I’d rather not think about that, because it’s not as funny as the Viz thing. And it’s more likely. So, we’ll pretend for now that we’re on the verge of the first pantomime, slapstick war the world has ever seen.

Anyway, while Trump and Johnson are beefing up a storm - picture Punch and Judy, except the puppets are in suits and have thinning, bright yellow hair - previously all-encompassing issues like Brexit will fall by the wayside, until Boris Johnson eventually decides to hand his notice in to focus on more important things, like beating Trump with a wooden spoon and chasing after the dog that stole all his sausages. After this, we’ll all come together to realise that if actual elected officials can’t do the job, then maybe we, the people, deserve our chance to test our political metal. Obviously, we can’t let just anybody have a go, but at the end of the year, Cosmopolitan magazine puts the traditional democratic process at number one on its ‘Leave It In 2021’ list, so we have absolutely no choice but to come up with something else, which brings me to...

Television And Film

2022 will start with a bang, with the debut of Simon Cowell’s new talent show format, So You Think You Can Be The Prime Minister?, hosted of course by Ant and Dec, with the aftershow on ITV2 being hosted by Jeremy Paxman. Contestants will line up in huge crowds to give judges Russell Brand, Susanna Reid, and, of course, Jesus S. Cowell himself (forgot to mention, Simon Cowell has been elected as the new Christ in this completely non-hypothetical universe, alright?) their opinions on hot political topics such as Brexit, the NHS, and, of course, whether a Jaffa Cake can really be classed as a biscuit or not. Each episode, contestants will take part in a live debate, themed around a different issue with every passing week. The two least popular contestants after the weekly phone vote will go head-to-head giving their own rendition of Running The World by Jarvis Cocker, with the worst performer being eliminated. I know a sing-off isn’t exactly relevant in a politics programme, but it’s Saturday night primetime so it’s still got to be at least somewhat entertaining, yeah?

Love Island will be back, of course - and not just with a Summer and Winter edition, but with an additional Spring and Autumn one for the 2024 schedule! This will be a win-win situation for the series producers, and for its viewers, as by 2027, ITV will run out of attractive under-35s to appear on the show, and members of the public will begin getting called up to appear - like with jury duty, except that ITV pay for you to have extensive cosmetic surgery first, so that you’re aesthetically pleasing enough for people to want to tune in, and so that you can maintain a successful career selling Bootea on Instagram afterwards.

Films will also go through a renaissance in the 2020s, as the Hollywood big boys come to a conclusion that everything has just become a little too… blockbuster. To remedy this, they make the joint decision that, 100 years on, we should take ourselves back to the silent film era, which will surely create hundreds of jobs for mute people, therefore solving Hollywood’s problems with a lack of diversity in film. It’ll also give well-known TikTok creators a chance to make the leap into mainstream entertainment, as they’ll have spent so long lip-synching over the years that they’ll now be more qualified to star in these new golden age pictures than actual trained actors. Obviously, that sounds absolutely beyond comprehension, but look at Count Orlok in 1922’s Nosferatu. See his slender limbs, blank stare, gothic dress sense - in a way, he’s the original e-boy, and there’s plenty of them out there on TikTok now that could play the titular vampire just as well in a 100th anniversary remake, just with less neck-biting and more lip-biting. Trust me, it’ll be a hit.

Technology

Throughout the 2010s, there’s been a lot of talk about everyone spending too much time on their bloody phones, so, in 2024, Apple will try to combat this issue when they unveil perhaps their most innovative product to date - the iPhone XZ+, a phone which exists solely in the mind of its users. Not in a Black Mirror, chip-inside-your-brain sort of way, either. It is literally imaginary. It’s a phone that, instead of being a phone, is actually just the concept of a phone. Yes, for the small cost of £1,500 and six units of your own soul, you, too, can block the rest of the world out. How amazing is that? No more wasting hours of your day keeping in touch with friends and family. No more accessing a wealth of information, wherever you are, with a quick Google. No more blocking out the sound of cackling pre-teens on the bus by putting in your earphones and listening to music. These things are bad and must be stopped, before we become an entire species of communicating, bopping, learning zombies.

I think those must be bad things anyway, since you can rarely go a few seconds scrolling through social media without stumbling across a ‘woke’ meme about how the use of smartphones is destroying us, one notification at a time - memes which I’m absolutely sure were created and posted from a book or a potato or something. Otherwise they’d just be hypocritical, wouldn’t they?

Anyway, the iPhone XZ+. It’s the only thing you need inside your head this decade. Apart from a very real ever-growing sense of fear and doom, which you can get for free.

Sport

The next decade will see the Olympics and Paralympics take place in 2020, 2024 and 2028, as well as the Winter equivalents to both in 2022 and 2026. You’d think we’d be all Olympic-ed out with that, but in the absence of anything else that gets people feeling remotely patriotic in a purely nice way, the world will decide to come together to throw scaled-down, low-budget Olympic games in all the off-years this decade.

Summer 2021 will see the start of the first ever Not-The-Actual-Olympics. Marked by a glamourous opening ceremony in a field in Loughborough, the opening will feature a series of performances from stars such as H from Steps, and will be attended by some people who aren’t the royal family, but really do look like them. Taking place over the 10-week long games will be thumb wars, arm wrestling, staring contests, and an exciting event in which competitors try to eat the most HobNobs they possibly can without the help of a glass of water to combat the extreme dry-mouth they end up with. It might sound underwhelming now, but if there turns out to be any truth in the other predictions I’ve made here, it might be just what you need to restore your faith in the everyday.

Happy New Year, Everyone

In all seriousness - not that the rest of this isn’t serious, because it is, and is definitely all going to happen - whatever the coming years bring, it’s important to remember that we have to take the good with the bad, to look after ourselves and each other, and to enjoy each day as much as we possibly can, even during the bits of life that leave us feeling a little less Gangnam Style than we did way back in 2012. Thanks, everyone, for reading my blog. I’ll be back again in a week or so to talk absolute arse about something else. Until then, I hope you all had a great 2019, and have an even better start to 2020. Cheers!

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yougotthatbilly · 5 years

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Dangerously, You’re Beautiful | 01

→ member: lee taeyong → genre: fluff | angst → au: best friends to lovers!au | love triangle!au ↳ summary: ❝If you love two people at the same time, choose the second. Because if you really loved the first one, you wouldn’t have fallen for the second.❞ -Johnny Depp

chapters: 00 , 01

“Stop that.”

You lazily look to your right, shooting Taeyong a questioning look. “Stop what?”

“You’re gonna have permanent wrinkles in your forehead if you don’t relax. Your shoulders are up to your ears and even your ass is clenched.”

You almost make a comment on the fact he looked at your ass long enough to notice, but then you realize that yes, your body is extremely tensed up. Your shoulders drop and the muscles throughout your body gradually loosen as you lean into the podium in front of you.

The store is dead when it was expected to be a lot busier, but that’s what happens when festivals are in town during sales. You barely got any sleep last night (honestly this time) and you’re seconds away from slumping forward or hiding in the break-room and letting Taeyong handle things for the next few hours. Taeil wouldn’t mind. He loves you.

“Want a massage?”

“Huh?” you ask, once again glancing at him because you barely heard him over your thoughts of sweet talking him into being the only manager on the floor for some hours. Taeyong lifts his hands up and wiggles them suggestively. The words no, it’s fine are on the tip of your tongue but who are you to say no to a free massage?

“You know I’m not gonna press you on why you’ve been weird,” he starts after finding his way behind you, his fingertips softly digging into your shoulders, “but you also know I’m here if you need to talk, right?”

Of course you do. He’s always there for you, even when you don't realize you need someone to be. Only a couple of months into your friendship, he was there for you when you thought you were completely fine on your own. Being the observant and kind hearted person he is, when he saw how your feet were dragging and your smile was too fake when interacting with customers he tried to talk about topics that would normally spark your interest and pick up your mood. Months later you don’t even remember why you were feeling so glum that day, but even with him barely knowing you, he knew exactly how to make you feel better. The two of you coincidentally had overlapping breaks and Taeyong stepped behind your slouched form as you were leaned over the counter in the break room, wrapping his arms around your middle in an unexpected hug. And when you straightened up a bit in shock, he only slouched more, rearranging his hold on you so he could hook his chin over your shoulder and hold you tighter. He didn’t ask what was wrong, didn’t force you to speak. The way he felt against you, the feeling of his heartbeat against your back, you remember it all so vividly. Sometimes your mind goes back to that very moment when you’re left alone with your thoughts at night.

His cheeks had a coral hue to them when he apologized after your shifts ended, explaining his actions as a good hug usually brings his mood up because the comfort lets him know people actually care and they aren’t just asking what’s wrong because they feel obligated to. Taeyong asked if he crossed any boundaries or if it possibly made you feel uncomfortable. You felt the complete opposite. You didn’t want him to let go. You wanted to turn around and return the embrace, but in the moment you were too stunned, too overwhelmed yet too comfortable in his hold, enjoying how secure you felt wrapped in his arms. You assured him it was fine, that you realized you really needed it. Then when he, still embarrassed by such an impulsive move, asked if there was a significant other in the picture, seeing that the conversation had never been brought up between the two of you, the sirens sounded in your head.

You shouldn’t have felt the way you did when there should only be one person to have that effect on you.

Taeyong apologized profusely when you answered in affirmative and it took a couple of days for you to convince him everything was fine. He didn’t have any other intention than cheering you up, so he did nothing wrong. He just wanted to be there for you. You were in the wrong with how all rational thoughts about being in a relationship and how Johnny would’ve felt if he saw the scene unfold before him didn’t cross your mind.

Taeyong’s consideration is just another characteristic on the list you deny you’ve made.

You nod. You know.

If you’re in a shitty mood around Doyoung he doesn’t want to be around you because you kill his vibe (maybe you should reconsider the friendship, but then again you’re not even that close). Yuta isn’t the best person to run to when you’re sad unless it’s simply for comfort and not actual advice. Taeyong is the only male aside from Johnny that gives you his full attention and doesn’t come to you with his problems without even checking to see how you’re feeling. When you asked about it, asking why he always asks about you when he’s the one in need of a shoulder to lean on or advice, his response was that friends are not therapists so you should always ask how they’re feeling, too. His maturity and way with words are on that nonexistent list as well.

Maybe it’s just in his nature to care about others (plausible seeing he’s a Cancer), but you can’t help but love the fact that he’s always there and think that maybe you just have a little special spot in his heart like the one that’s found its way inside of your own recently. But then again, there’s a good possibility it’s been there for months but you hadn’t realized it’s existence until recently.

“There’s just been a lot on my mind lately and I’m just trying to figure things out by myself for now.”

“Take your time. Don’t stress too much over whatever it is, okay?” His thumbs work in between your shoulder blades and your eyes drift shut, head falling forward. “Everything will fall into place eventually. You just gotta be patient.”

Another lazy nod.

It’s the typical thing to say to someone in this situation, the only thing he really can say with how vague you’re being, but his words still make you feel a little better.

“In times like this, I drink Jasmine or green tea and it helps a lot,” Taeyong softly suggests. His focus moves to the small of your back, almost making you completely melt into the podium beneath you.

The feeling of a presence in front of you stops your response, Taeyong’s scripted greeting opening your eyes. The holy shit he lets out and his body warmth leaving you lift them. Taeyong is excitedly walking over to a surprised looking Donghyuck, pulling him into a hug.

“Feels like I haven’t seen you in years, kid.” Taeyong sounds excited, like he’s been reunited with his long-lost brother and it’s pulls at your heartstrings. “Why are you here and not in class or something?”

“Winter break,” Donghyuck supplies, Taeyong making a sound in remembrance, “and I’m actually here to see somebody but—”

“But I don’t exist anymore?” you finally cut in, playfully scoffing. Donghyuck’s eyes go wide in your direction, words trying to leave his mouth but all that comes out is stuttering and the boyish smile you’ve grown fond of over the last several years. Taeyong steps back when you make your way around the podium to bring Donghyuck into an even tighter hug than the one Taeyong gave him.

“I didn’t recognize you with your head down and then,” he gestures Taeyong, who’s watching the two of you similarly to how you watched them only moments ago.

You release him to hold him at arms distance by his shoulders, examining him from head to toe. “You’ve gotten taller.” His cheek is warm when you lift a hand to cup it, swiping your thumb against the smooth skin a few times. “And you’ve gotten skinnier. Are you not eating?”

“Yes, I’m eating. I’m just dropping my baby fat,” Donghyuck shrugs sheepishly.

A flash of a memory of his chubby cheeks make you pout exaggeratedly. And then the pout turns into a down curve of disgust when your eyes travel further up.

“What the hell happened to your hair?”

Donghyuck’s left offended and is the one pouting now as you move your finger back and forth between the too big gap between his bangs and his eyebrows. Who the hell got scissor happy with the poor kid?

“I tried to trim my bangs but I got distracted,” he grumbles, glaring at Taeyong when the latter snorts. Taeyong puts his hands up and slowly back-steps into another part of the store.

At least the vibrant red his hair has been dyed is pretty.

“Anyway,” You make your way back behind the podium and return to your previous position leaning against it, “what’s up? And how’d you even know I was here?”

“Well, the semester ended and I figured seeing my precious face would make your week a thousand times better. So here I am.” He gestures himself with a grin.

You squint at him. “Why are you really here, kid?”

“I’m on break and I wanted to see my favorite sister.” Donghyuck shrugs.

“Donghyuck.”

“Okay, fine!” He lifts his hands up. “Mark asked me to visit you since he won’t be back until the end of break, so here I am.”

Donghyuck’s a great actor with a great poker face but you’ve known him since he was seven. “And?” you press once more.

“And I’m here to ask if I can crash at yours for a couple weeks,” he gives you an awkwardly endearing smile.

“I mean, I guess.” You shrug. “But seriously, how’d you know I was here?”

Donghyuck lifts up his phone and wiggles it a little. “We still share locations, dummy.”

Oh, how you missed that mouth of his.

“And your parents don’t care?”

Donghyuck scoffs. “I’m eighte—no they don’t. They trust you with my life.”

Your retort is cut off when an older guy comes into the room with a few shirts and a pair of jeans, you do your job and walk him to a fitting room.

“Where did Taeyong go?” Donghyuck asks when you’re back.

“Probably went to help out in the front.” You shrug. But on the topic of the brunet, the question that was repeating in your mind earlier resurfaces. “How do you two know each other, anyway?”

“Remember Jeno?” You’ve heard name a few times in the last years but you can hardly put a face to it, and it must show because Donghyuck continues. “The kid with the smile,” he deadpans.

“Oh.” The kid from that soccer game your mom forced you to take Mark and Donghyuck to that kept smiling and blushing whenever you said anything to him. “Aw, how is he?”

“Great.” The red-head waves off. “Anyway, Taeyong’s his older brother. If it wasn’t me and Mark, it was me and Jeno. Tae’s like my big bro.”

Huh. With this new information you wonder if you and Taeyong went to the same middle or high school and never crossed paths since the two of you only lived a neighborhood away from each other back then. What would’ve happened if the two of you officially met sooner? Would you have gotten along back then? Would you have clicked so fast and effortlessly all those years ago like you did last year?

Would you be w—

“Talking about me while I’m gone?”

Taeyong’s voice isn’t loud nor is it harsh, but it still startles you out of your thoughts, and your body jerks in alert. Both males laugh at your reaction, only laughing harder when you pretend to buck up at them.

He takes his place back next to you and hands you a warm, large cup before reaching forward to ruffle the red hair on the younger male’s head. Dumbly, you look down at the cup in your hand, bringing it up to your nose to sniff the content inside through the small horizontal hole in the lid. Jasmine and honey. “How did you even…?” A quick glance with a wink leaves you puzzled, and the warm feeling in your insides has nothing to do with the sip you take.

“Kid.”

“Hm?” Donghyuck asks half-heartedly, eyes still glued to the screen of his phone. He doesn’t look up even after you’ve made your way in front of him, hovering. He just raises an eyebrow in acknowledgment, thumbs flying across his screen.

You kick his shin.

Donghyuck lets out a dramatic sigh before locking his phone and looking up and you with an attitude. “Yes?”

“You wanna eat or keep being gross with Mark?”

The ‘tude is wiped off instantly and he’s now blushing. “W-what are you talking about? He’s just updating me on how Cana— how’d you know I was talking to him?”

You open your mouth to let him know he’s only that attentive and smiles that much when he’s speaking to your younger brother, how it’s been like this for years, but three knocks on your front door cut you off, and the quirk of Donghyuck’s lips confuses you.

“I got us some food since you like to starve people,” he winks as he stands up and lightly pushes you out the way to get the door.

The door opens to reveal Taeyong with bags of fast food in one hand and deadpan expression on his face. You can tell even from the distance you’re at that Taeyong’s trying to keep a straight, almost annoyed face at the younger, but you also see the exact moment his eyes change emotions, a defeated smile pulling his lips up with an eye roll.

The power of Lee Donghyuck, basically.

“You’re lucky you caught me when I was about to pass by,” he grunts when Donghyuck hugs him. You’ve never really seen Donghyuck openly initiate any kind of affection with anyone other than yourself and Mark, then Taeyong’s smile gets wider and wow your heart. Just like any other day, Taeyong’s eyes drift to where you’re standing, and he nods in acknowledgment before beckoning you over. “Here,” he passes the bags to Donghyuck when he lets go. “Go eat. I gotta talk to her real quick.”

The smile on his lips transitions into a thin line when Donghyuck is gone and he flicks the side of your head just hard enough for you to flinch and pout. “How are you gonna say the kid can stay with you but have no food and have him starving all day?” he deadpans, tilting his head when you don’t respond quick enough.

“I forgot I needed to go grocery shopping, dad.” The last couple of days you’ve been snacking on whatever and kind of forgot there was a growing teenage boy (man?) in your apartment now. “I was actually just about to take him out. If I would’ve known he reached out to you, I would’ve told him to ask you to get some real food and not—” Taeyong squints and his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, challenging you to finish that sentence. “I mean, thanks for the food?” You smile cutely.

“Right. Enjoy your food.”

“Aw you got me food, too?”

His glare is back but it only makes you childishly stick your tongue out at him.

“Anyway, I might swing by later to get him on my way back from Jae’s. So if you don’t have plans, you should come along.”

His phone makes a noise, gaining his attention before he squeezes your shoulder gently in lieu of goodbye, then he leans forward until he’s right by your ear to yell his goodbye to Donghyuck. You flinch and swat at his gut because you know it was his intention to burst your eardrum and Taeyong just laughs as he turns on his heels and walks away.

Donghyuck’s food is halfway done and you’d feel bad if you didn’t know he’s always been a really fast eater.

“So are you coming?”

You shake your head, unraveling your food. It’s date night. You’re meeting up with Johnny at the movie theatre to watch that new scary movie he’s been dying to see. You haven’t had a proper date in weeks when you used to have one every Saturday night and you’re excited because this is what you need. The last time you saw Johnny you weren’t in your right state of mind, not thinking of what you should’ve been. Tonight is going to be about to two of you and your relationship with no outside factors clouding your thoughts. You miss Johnny’s big hand and the heat it transfers to your thigh when watching movies, his fingers tensing and squeezing when there’s a jump scare.

“It’s date night.”

“Date… night?”

His confused tone lifts your eyes away from your fries and onto his equally confused facial expression.

“Yes?”

“You’re still with Johnny?”

You nod, still not understanding his tone.

“Really?”

“What do you mean ‘really?’”

“I don’t know, I thought you and Taeyong were a thing,” he shrugs and goes back to his fries.

Your jaw works slowly as his words echo in your mind. “... what made you think that?”

He shrugs again. “Your interactions, your body language.”

“As in our body language towards each other is more intimate than what friends usually have?”

He snaps and sends finger guns your way. “Exactly. Figured you were together or fucking at the very least.”

The last assumption chokes you. “Donghyuck.”

He just smiles and stuffs the last of his fries into his mouth.

The rest of your meal is silent, your mind running wild with the thoughts of how often you lean into Taeyong’s touch, how often you crave it, and just how obvious you might be if Donghyuck noticed within the span of a couple of days.

With your teeth digging into your bottom lip, you pace in front of your bed, phone in one hand while the other scrubs at your eye in mild frustration to save the base makeup you have on. You’ve gotten dressed for your movie date and you were in the middle of adding a touch of highlighter to your high-points when you heard Donghyuck’s phone ring, the latter answering it with a greeting followed by Taeyong’s name. You felt childish pressing your ear against your closed bedroom door to hear his side of the conversation better. He hummed a few times, then told Taeyong that you already had plans and wouldn’t be joining them, and all of a sudden you wanted to join them.

Well, you haven’t seen Donghyuck in close to a year. You’ve barely spent time with him since he temporarily moved in, having been at work earlier and only saying your greetings with a ruffle of his hair while on your way to your room when you got back in. You were exhausted and needed to fall face first onto your bed asap. You should definitely spend some time with him, and now would definitely be the perfect time to do so. You don’t have to plan anything because you’re sure Taeyong has gotten everything planned out already, and then the latter being there is just a little bonus.

You unlock your phone with your thumb, go to your call log, and tap the third contact from the top.

“Hello?”

“Hey, babe. What are you doing?”

“Trying to decide if I want to wear jeans or joggers tonight,” Johnny chuckles.

“About tonight…” you say after a beat, teeth back in your bottom lip. You hope he hasn’t done his hair already.

“Uh oh. What’s wrong?”

“I was wondering if we could possibly reschedule for next weekend?”

It’s silent on the other line for a few seconds, so you move the phone away from your ear to see if he hung up (which you know he wouldn’t do but there’s a guilty conscious for you) or lost connection.

“Yeah,” Johnny sounds unsure once the phone is back on your ear. “Is there a reason?”

You’re going to break skin if you bite any harder.

“Remember Donghyuck?” He hums. “He just came back in town and I’m letting him crash here for a little. It’s been a while so I wanted to take him out tonight, also as an apology for starving him all day,” you chuckle, voice even and believable to your own ears.

Well, it’s not a complete lie.

The tone of Johnny’s voice changes immediately. “Of course, baby. Don’t sound so guilty. I’m sure Donghyuck really wants to spend time with you after not seeing you for so long.” He laughs softly. You can practically see him waving a dismissive hand in the air. “We can just go Friday or Saturday night.”

A small relieved smile tugs at your mouth as a sigh leaves it. “Thanks for not hating me. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You can hear the smile in his voice, envisioning an eye roll. “Call me when you get back in, ‘kay?”

“Alright. I love you.”

“I love you, too. I’ll talk to you later.”

He’s so understanding it breaks your heart but you’re doing your best to delude yourself into believing you’re really going to this outing just for Donghyuck.

As soon as you hang up the same three knocks from earlier pound against the wood of your front door, startling you. A glance as your reflection in the mirror connected to your dresser makes you grimace, the sight of your half done face and hair not so pretty. Speed walking to the door that connects your room to the bathroom, you push it open and do the quickest winged liner you’ve done and quickly yet carefully put some mascara on. You put and misplaced strands of hair where they belong and barely remember to grab your jacket before exiting the bathroom using the other door that leads into your hallway. You’re just in time to see Donghyuck slipping his shoes on and Taeyong leaning against the door, stopping in the middle of his sentence when he spots you coming towards them.

“Well don’t you look like a snack.” Taeyong wiggles his eyebrows at you, eyes raking up and down your body. “Hyuck told me you had plans so I’m guessing you’re going out with J—”

“With the two of you? Yep,” you cut him off, giving him a quick smile and diverting your attention from his face to your shoes as you slip them on. Your heart is beating loudly from a combination of the rising guilt you feel from cancelling on Johnny and the guilt you feel from being happy you get to see Taeyong again and spend time with him outside of work today.

He eyes you suspiciously, making eye contact with Donghyuck with a brow arched in confusion. The latter just shrugs.

“So where are we going?”

“To the dessert shop that just opened by my place,” he says unsurely, opening the door. “My car or yours?”

“Can I drive?”

You and Taeyong immediately shut down Donghyuck’s request. His lip curls up in offense, but he gets over it and links his arm with yours as you all make your way down the wooden stairs.

“Try this.”

You bring your fork up to Donghyuck’s mouth, feeding him some of your cake. Taeyong opens his mouth and makes a noise expectedly.

A bit of icing gets on the corner of his mouth at the forkful your feed him, so you swipe at the small glob with your thumb then lick it off.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “What happened to your date?”

“Yeah, what changed?” Taeyong ask, attention back on his plastic fork, licking a clump of icing off of it.

You’re momentarily distracted by the way his pink tongue laps at the icing, but then Donghyuck’s shifting body beside you snap you out of your trance. “Oh,” you wave a dismissive hand. “He’s beat from the long shift he worked. And it worked out perfectly because now I can bond with Hyuck,” you smile, pinching the youngest’s cheek as his face goes from confused to a fake scowl.

“Damn, well I’m glad you could be here with us.” Taeyong smiles, reaching forward to steal more of your cake.

“Me, too,” you nod, biting your lip at the thought of if Taeyong was anticipating your company. When he invited you, was he just doing it to be nice since he was picking Donghyuck up from your place? Or did he genuinely want you to come? You shake your head slightly, knocking the unnecessary thoughts out. You shouldn’t be thinking so hard over an invitation to get dessert with a couple of the closest people to you. It’s not that deep.

You and Taeyong tease Donghyuck and ask questions about how college life is, and when things go quiet and everyone’s doing their own thing for a while on their phones, it’s hard not to stare at the male sitting in front of you as he runs a hand through his hair and slumps in his seat, licking his lips as he focuses on whatever is on his screen. He’s just so effortlessly attractive.

It’s also hard to not notice Donghyuck’s intense gaze on the side of your face.

Donghyuck’s eyes either translate to he’s trying to read you, or that he knows something, and when you raise an eyebrow to silently question him, he just shakes his head before asking Taeyong a question, starting up another conversation.

#taeyong scenario #taeyong scenarios #nct scenario #nct scenarios #back at it again with shitty endings #i hope this version is okay rip

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