#i should finish my stickers but who cares at this point
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fuck it who cares
#piss mauling#sniperpauling#i should finish my stickers but who cares at this point#tf2#kino art#sniper#miss pauling#i have been drawing this fuckers TOO MUCH#so warning i will be drawing yuri sniperpauling bc im fucking insane#team fortress 2
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AITA for tricking my grandma into misgendering her cat?
Background: my (19F) grandma (67F) is a southern baptist and pretty conservative. My cousin (Matt, 24M) is trans, he came out to his parents and mine about two years ago because he knew we would be supportive, but he waited until he was on T a couple months and was mostly transitioned socially before he officially came out to our less supportive relatives, like my grandma.
Since Matt came out to everyone else (which he did by showing up at family Christmas with a “hello my name is” sticker on, which I thought was hilarious) my grandma has refused to use his correct pronouns, name, or anything, saying “it’s hard to switch” as an excuse. Matt has cut off contact and everyone else in the family just kind of avoids talking about him around her.
I am in a weird situation because my family lives the next street over from where she does, and we have always been pretty close. Since she started being so shitty about Matt, though, I’ve put more distance and just stay polite when she’s over.
Okay so now to the AITA part. About two months ago my grandma wanted to adopt a cat, and my best friend volunteers at an animal shelter so we were helping her. We showed her pictures of some of the cats and she saw an older male who was all black with longer fur and said she wanted to adopt “her.” I started to correct her saying it was a male cat, and then realized the opportunity I had so I kept my mouth shut. I made a point to handle all the adoption stuff for my grandma so she never saw anything indicating the cat’s male-ness, and then brought home her new “female” cat, pink collar and all.
Last week “Miss Kitty” (such a creative name) got a paw injury and at the vet they told my grandma the cat was male. My grandma told me and my parents about it when she was over for the Fourth of July (we had family and friends over for barbecue, including Matt’s parents). I made a point from there on to continue using “she” for the cat and still calling “Miss Kitty” instead of “Mister Kitty.” It took her a minute to notice but finally she called me out and said “he’s a boy, stop saying she.”
I immediately snapped back with “oh so it’s easy for you to switch the name and pronouns of your cat but not your own grandson?” Everyone got quiet and she got all flustered, trying to say it’s different, but I just said “oh okay, so you put more effort into using the right words for a cat who doesn’t even know English, got it.”
My mom told me to stop and leave it alone. I said “I’m just saying, it’s pretty clear who she cares about more.” And then my mom told me to leave the table if I was going to act like that. I just got up and took my plate in the kitchen and finished eating.
After everyone left my mom lit into me and told me that what I said was cruel. I said I was just teaching her a lesson and that maybe now she would think about it different. My mom said that I just made things worse and humiliated her on purpose in front of everyone. My dad had been quiet but then just started laughing. He realized that I had been playing the long game, and it wasn’t a mix up at the shelter- I led my grandma to believe the cat was female. He basically said “that was wrong but also hilarious” and now my mom is mad at both me and my dad. When Matt’s parents told him he thought it was super funny and said he isn’t mad at all.
My mom wants me to apologize, but I am not sorry about what I said. I don’t know if I should feel bad about tricking my grandma, because I didn’t technically outright lie, I just didn’t correct her when she assumed the cat was female. AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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WIP Wednesday
Not watermark this time but another AU that I am having WAY too much fun writing... I give you a glimpse of Retail Manager!Eddie and Fire Marshal!Buck. I'm actually really excited for this story to be finished, I have so much planned for it.
Eddie was going to commit arson.
Which probably wasn't the smartest thought to be having while the much too attractive Fire Marshall listed out every single thing the previous store manager had screwed him over on but…. But Eddie was going to commit arson. At this point, it would probably help the company out to just burn down the whole store, take the insurance payout, and start over from the ground up. Preferably while still keeping him employed but, well, beggers couldn't be choosers and all that. “Your score is horrible,” the guy said with a tone of voice that meant that he was at least mentally, laughing in Eddie’s face. “Like, seriously, I don't think I should even let you stay open for business with a score this low.”
“So shut us down.” Eddie grumbled, kicking his sneaker against the scuffed up, unfinished concrete floor in front of the management desk.
He had been there a week.
A week. And Eddie had already had to argue with several customers over the return policy because the previous manager - may she rest in absolute hell (no, she wasn't dead, she had just gone to another store down the road and Eddie hated her on principle) - had thought the sign explaining it was tacky and removed it from the registers (which was illegal. They had to be posted). He had already had three workers put in their notice, the assistant manager kept looking sorry for him and annoyed by his questions, and now this. The Fire Marshal's inspection.
Eddie had worked his share of retail jobs and none of them enjoyed when the Fire Marshal visited. Granted, none of his stores had failed as hard as this one was apparently going to, but he figured there was a first time for everything.
The Fire Marshal snorted, “I'm not shutting you down.”
Great. Of course he wasn't. He was just wasting Eddie's time by pretending to care about his job. “Listen -.”
“I get it,” the Marshal said, pen tapping on the clipboard he brought with himself. It had several stickers on the back. Eddie had spied one that had said ‘hello, I'm anxious and I'm trying my best’. It looked like Chris’ folder for school. “It's, what, your first week?”
Eddie tried not to twitch and, instead, crossed his arms firmly around his chest. “Yes.”
“We'll call this a test run. You see what I do this time around, I give you a… Progress report or whatever. I'll come back in a few weeks when you've had some time to settle in and fix stuff up. Give you your real grade then.”
“That's…” Nice. Unfairly kind, actually. Something Eddie really hadn't expected. Every Fire Marshal Eddie had ever had the honor of being inspected by had shown up in a stuffy suit and tie, their badge clipped to their front pocket, and the air of someone who was almost good enough to be a firefighter permiating their being. This guy had shown up without any grays in his hair, a stupidly kind looking professional smile, a crisp white shirt with a small stain on his sleeve and a dark navy tie. He had introduced himself with a quick, firm shake of Eddie’s hand and said hello to the cashiers. He had worn his badge on his belt loop, not his pocket, and he had waited until Eddie was done with a customer before asking go to his office. Eddie didn't have any reason to be being so cold towards him. He almost felt guilty about it.
“Here,” The paper ripped as he tore off Eddie’s copy, signed the bottom, and handed it to him.
A 23%?!
Eddie balked at the score, “Oh, come on, man.”
“You're lucky it's not worse.”
“How is this lucky? It's an F minus.”
“Your smoke detectors don't even work in half the store.”
“They work.”
“See that blinking red light?” The Marshal pointed to the smoke detector above Eddie’s head. It blinked mockingly at him. “Half your alarms aren't doing that.”
Okay, so that… was a problem. “You marked down,” Eddie glanced at the paper, the neat, blocky handwriting in all capital letters. “That our store is too dirty. We clean it every night!”
“Cleary, not well enough.”
Absurdly, Eddie was insulted on behalf of his dusters. “You're just being petty.”
The Marshal bristled, “No, I'm being thorough.” He clicked his pen and shoved it in the front pocket of his khakis, and like it was mocking him, the overhead light in his office flickered, threatening to turn off completely. “I'll be back in a few weeks. Get this stuff fixed, and I'll give you an actual grade.”
“Get this stuff fixed, and I'll give you an actual grade,” Eddie mocked when he had left, burying his face in his hands with a groan. “Fuck you, Fire Marshal…” he glanced at the papers, to the name written out in print first before signed much too neatly. “Buckley.”
@wildlife4life 😘
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Rottmnt oc headcannons
Part three : Skye
I’m continuing on with my rottmnt oc headcannons, I have so far completed Marcy and Sunny’s headcannons.
Marcy’s —> https://www.tumblr.com/little-mouse-gardens/734298414127382528/rottmnt-oc-head-cannons-so-im-gonna-be-doing-hcs
Sunny’s —> https://www.tumblr.com/little-mouse-gardens/736082157867532288/little-mouse
And now I have completed Skye’s, which should leave me with Angie’s headcanons to finish! Then I can finally start finishing and posting oneshots >:3
- Skye was named after her aunt on her mothers side
- Skye takes incredible care of her skin, because she can be acne prone with certain products. No one will ever know the secrets to her skincare routine, all except for Leonardo who practically begged her to spill the beans.
- can’t stand the smell of nail polish remover, literally had to cover her nose while she paints and removes nail polish because the smell makes her wanna gag
- may or may not have taught leo to paint designs on his nails. Him and her Defiantly match when they can
- tries her best to help leonardo with his insomnia. Tea, music, making him laugh until he’s tried or just cuddling him (his personal favorite) until he gets tired enough to fall asleep
- didn’t even shed a tear when she got her nose and ear piercings. To a point her and her sister’s mother thought something was wrong. Turns out she was just screaming internally-
- Parkour is her specialty. Roof hopping is just an average Tuesday night for her.
- Takes great care of her hair, prefers to keep it short but she will occasionally grow it out long
- she has a few skateboards that she’s collected. Customizes all of them with different themes, paints, stickers
- the one she uses the most is a skateboard that matches in design and color to Leo’s (they have each others names painted on it-)
- frequents a lot of local cafes and pizza restaurants. She Became hueso’s favorite customer because she helped make sure leo didn’t cause too much trouble.
- likes singing, playing guitar, keyboard and drums. Has a secret notebook of songs she wrote
- when she’s older, she gets dozens of butterfly and bat themed tattoos across her back and arms
- Public displays of affection between her and leo and quite common and encouraged by each other. Either constantly holding hands, hugging, giving piggy back rides ect.
- she can speak, English, Spanish and Portuguese. She tries to teach leo Spanish and Portuguese. They also Occasionally talk to one another in Spanish.
- has a spot in her room for leo to come over and hang out, it’s a hammock area over by the window though most of the time he’s cuddling up to her while playing video games, reading comics ect. He likes to brag about it, and she just playfully rolls her eyes.
- loves insects all except for roaches. moths and butterflies are her favorite
- loves bats as well. Has a little miniature butterfly garden-like set up in her window so she could watch the bats come in
- Carries some type of water bottle on her, wether it be for herself, her sisters or the turtles. Has a bunch of stickers on said water bottle.
- banned leo from accessing the mini fridge in her room because he stole all the pizza bites out of it while she was taking a nap (he made up for it with ice cream)
- has her own space in the lair close to Leo’s whenever she comes over. She has a little tent with pillows and a mini tv she brought over to play games. Most of the time you’ll catch her just skateboarding around the lair, or sprawled out on a blanket pile with leo reading comics.
- Second place for queen of the fairy lights (she and so many in her room the electric bills are sobbing-)
- Leo definitely knows her hair routine and yes, he loves to help out. (He loves how soft her curls are) Draws little shapes with the products on her curls (she loves this goober enough not to gently thwack him with a towel for wasting her hair products)
- spraypainting is something she occasionally tries out, usually goes up to a random rooftop or vacant area where no one is gonna care before testing it out.
- leo does the face taps to her a lot. after she figured out what exactly that meant (girl was hella confused as to why he was doing that out of the blue) she started doing it to him back. And now it’s just a random thing they do when they see each other or whenever they want to (this turtle literally becomes a churring smug mess over her it’s embarrassing-)
- most of her clothes probably come from hot topic or small businesses
- always Carries her favorite snacks in her bag, gently bats Leo’s hands away when he tries to steal any of the pizza bites she bought (he tries to snatch them out of her hand when she is literally is about to eat it like boi you tryna die?-)
- Skye has a very small scar on her right eyebrow from when she fell off a horse as a kid. Claims it as her battle scar and feels it makes her look a little badass.
- Skilled in archery, volleyball and surfing. Mainly on the volleyball team and do surfing and archery as hobbies. Used to be on the archery club at her school but she didn’t like the overly competitive and overly strict rules placed on her shoulders so she quit the club
- her favorite two drinks are blueberry boba tea and mango milkshake. Got hooked on blueberry boba tea after Marcy and Angie dragged her to a boba shop to try some of the new drinks
- Has watched law and order enough to know the intro message word by word
- Competes in a local underground skateboarding competition, usually ends up in second place or first place most of the time
- Hangs out at the local roller skating rink or arcade when she’s not hanging out the turtles or her sisters
- Learned to paint her nails from her sister sunny. Mostly paints them green, blue or black in various hues and adds little designs on them to match her clothing
- Collects a lot of funky and unique jewelry (fuzzy worm earrings, cute clay rings, silver skull ear studs, a choker with a dangly atlas moth charm)
- loves to make beaded charm bracelets and rings. She has a whole collection and miniature drawer of bracelets and rings she made. Made her and leo a matching bracelet and ring set (he teases her over the rings being an early proposal before they confessed)
- Her and Angie are adopted (Skye was adopted when she was one year old around the same age as marcy, and Angie was adopted a year after she was) it doesn’t really bother her much nor does she or Angie think about it much
- Her favorite food to make is homemade pastel or homemade pizza (specifically cheese, Hawaiian or St. Louis)
- Hates the smell of broccoli when it’s cooking or steaming. Leo tried to make broccoli casserole as a prank to bring to Skye, and she stepped one foot into the lairs kitchen before immediately turning around and walking away. It physically makes her ill and the smell is one of her weaknesses
- makes the most random out of pocket comments when she’s sleepy. Like “where are penguins knees? Like are they doing squats the whole time” or “you think mothman has access to the internet?” And not forgetting “i wonder if I could ever use your shell as a boogie board leo?” Someone get this girl down for a nap-
- her and Leonardo have random movie nights or game nights either at the lair or at her and her sisters apartment both before they started dating and after they started dating/he confessed
- Her and Leo’s first date was at senor heuso’s pizza restaurant and afterwards they just sat on a rooftop to stargaze and watch some old lou jitsu movies
- Loves stargazing. Sitting on the roof or the fire escape with some blankets and her switch/ds. She’ll curl up in a makeshift hammock and just observe the stars she can see through the city lights. Her favorite place to stargaze is her grandparents farm, since there is little light pollution.
- Fav spot on her grandparents farm is this old house that was built in the 1600s, she made it into a makeshift clubhouse when she was little so it holds a lot of memories for her.
- She’s trying to learn how to cook better and in turn teaching leo how to cook (because this boi needs some guidance because the kitchen equipment cannot be replaced again)
- Trying to control her yokai abilities by training with the turtles. It’s kind of confusing for her since human form but having in human abilities kind of throws the brain for a loop, but she’s slowly getting there.
- After the kraang incident, Skye will just randomly come over to the lair or leo will come over to her and her sister’s apartment so she and him can just be in each others presence. Cuddles, video games, random talks or going on walks around the city. Just to know the other one is there and that they’re okay.
- always has an extra pair of headphones on her. Made different playlists for herself, family and friends
- she also has a whole collection of video games, from her favorites to vintage games she just wanted to collect, on another shelf in her room.
- has played in a few video game competitions here and there, though she’s just tries them out for fun.
- has a whole shelf of books she genuinely likes to read and re-read. Frequents the library more often than most people think
- Her and leo like to practice a lot of skating tricks together. It has become a competition at this point, and yes they both have folders on their phones labeled “top ten leo fails” or “top ten Skye fails” just for giggles
- got a lifetime pass to a spa in the hidden city from her mother (shhhh-don’t question how she got it, it’s a secret)
- Uses humor as a coping mechanism sometimes
- A lot of her and Leo’s dates are mostly just random places they feel like going to that night if they don’t want to have a home date. However they’re still meaningful to them. Just spending time together having fun and being happy matters enough to them
- Fav scent is coconut creamcicle or vanilla sea salt
- the one place she wants to visit is her grandmothers old home in Costa Rica
#rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#rottmnt oc#rise oc#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise leo#rise leonardo#rottmnt headcanons#oc x cannon#oc headcanons#writing
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hiya!!
first of all, absolutely adore your new pfp! it's so cute!! (*^-^)
second of all, my sorry I couldn't answer after my last ask, but I really hope you'll feel better soon! (>.<) feel hugged dreamty!!
we're kinda in the same boat, tho. I'm not feeling too great myself atm (*´-`)
anyway, lots of love!! <3
~🌿
Djdidi hi plant anon !
Know that the silly dog gif is suppose to be a 30 sec animation i’ll have to finish for this week so i’ll soon post them ( this is my fav animation of the semester)
Thanks for the new pfp ! Second time someone mentionned and funny enough it’s from this set of 3 stickers i made for my school holliday market.
I add them to stickers package of people I know or people who made big purchases ehehe
Tons of love to you plant, I hope you’ll feel better soon.
Now answering the rest of the ask I’ll drop the update about my mood under there because it’s not pretty.
I’ll admit i am not doing well this days.
I can’t say why exactly i’m feeling bad, I always had up and down mood and some down mood really makes me feel low.
I know that it’s not based on anything factual but i can’t help but feel hated or judged. Everything that i say or show in front of more than one person is doubted by my own brain. I have to force myself to not delete everything that i type because i feel awful.
If i tried to put words on it, i hope that it’s not true despite knowing i dont’ have any real reason but i just feel like a pathetic person who is annoying and who’s presecence is a nuisance. Anyone who say the contrary is saying it out of pity and if I try to say that i’m sad it’s for attention because why the heck should i say that ? It’s not like I’m important or anything i must have a huge ego.
I’m doing a lot of things wrongs, I feel awful for taking so much time doing my packages or doing my homeworks.
I know it’s temporary and it will go aways because it always goes away at some point so i just try to live with it until it fades and I can go back on doing alright.
Right now only thing that helps me keep my head distracted is working on my game or being forced to go to class because going out at least force me to take care of how i look and all.
This is a big vent post and i’m really sorry about it but i can’t post on insta without feeling bad, i don’t have the strenght to text my friends without feeling bad and tumblr is the only place i managed to show sign of life with minimal feeling of being worthless.
It may be worrying to read all that but like i said it will go away but i just don’t like going trough it, i’ll be better in a few days it’s alright.
Anyway, thanks for reading and tons of love. I’m trying to work on some exclusive valentine days stickers but i don’t think i’ll be in time for it.
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The Handsome Artist. 3
(Daniel Ricciardo)
Mark your skin. Abigail finally gets her ivy.
MASTERLIST. Moodboards and Playlist
Previous part: Just checking.
Notes: things will start getting interesting, I promise. Finally, the tattoo chapter. We could say everything starts here.
Warning: mentions of needles.
I had been there for ten minutes. Molly said she would show up. But she didn't. I had my phone in hand and my foot was taping the floor. I was feeling something on my chest. Nerves? Anxiety?
I heard the door opening on my right and a deep voice laughing. With Daniel, a broad tall man, who look like the leader of a weird cult, was laughing hard with his arm covered in plastic. That was the big piece he had before me.
On Friday morning, he had already texted me.
Daniel Ricciardo: I have some free time for you on Tuesday. Does 17.50 fit?
It had brought a smile to my face. I wanted the tattoo already. I couldn't wait to see it.
Me: wow, so fast. It's perfect. Thanks xx.
And there I was. His eyes fell on me and he smiled.
"Give me a second, okay?"
You nodded with a shy smile.
"So you are going to see Daniel. Half naked?"
"That's why I need you there, Molls"
"I will go. But don't expect me to be there every time you get naked in front of a guy."
And she hadn't arrived yet. The nerves were getting bigger on my belly.
I saw how the weird man payed Daniel, how they chatted for a bit and talked about how the big man should take care of the tattoo.
"See you, mate. If you have any problem, you know where to find me!"
Daniel walked the man to the door and then locked it.
"You should have heard him whimper" He chuckled.
"It doesn't help" I whispered with a smile.
"Don't worry, Abi. I'll be careful"
Abi, Abi, Abi.
My heart was beating fast but I didn't even know why.
"Come with me."
I got up and followed him, texting Molly at the same time.
Me: you are the worst.
She was obsessed with Daniel. She wanted me to marry him and I was sure she had missed this on purpose.
Daniel closed the door when I came in and set the lock.
"Nobody will come uncalled." He gave me a smile. "Leave your stuff whenever you like, feel free".
I let my things next to the helmet in the table, which made me think. A motorbike. What kind? Was he one of those guys with fast bikes who passed you on the road? Or was he in one of those bands?
"Lady, sit here. Let's have a chat."
I sat where he told me and our knees touched.
"Are you nervous?" He said chuckling.
"Yeah" I smiled.
"Well, it's normal. Really. Just trust me. We can stop whenever you feel like."
I nodded. I was playing with my fingers.
Daniel showed me the drawing
"I'm gonna start with the lines. I will make the branch first and then the leaves. Only the shape of them. It will take a while and it's your first so... We will take it slow."
I swallowed.
"Then the color. It hurts less. I promise. It's a different kind of needle and the pain is not as intense. Same thing. We can stop. Also... If I finish the lines and you want to stop for today, it's okay too"
I bit my lip. Was he always like this? Had he told the big man the same thing?
"Tell me, are you still 100% sure?"
I laughed a bit and dried my palms on my trousers.
"Definitely. I'm excited"
"That's what I want to hear."
He patted my knee.
"Let's get to it then."
I bit my lip. What was I supposed to do?
He got up and walked around, grabbing stuff from drawers before sitting in front of me.
"Well, Abigail. Privacy is something we respect in Ham&Avo. This is for you. I can't work on this if you keep your bra on. But I don't want you to feel uncomfortable,okay? This things are like stickers, completely healthy and clean. Just for you to cover yourself with them."
"Oh" I had wonder how we would do it. He had the answer there. "That's nice."
He laughed a bit and passed me the two envelopes.
"Thank you... Um..." I looked around. I had seen a toilet signal outside, should I go there?
"Upstairs." He pointed at the stairs. "Just close the curtain and get changed in there."
"Okay."
I climbed the stairs slowly under his gaze and he gave thumbs up before I closed the curtain. It was a tiny room, it only had a chair and shelves with books and folders, all tattoo ralated. There was also a metallic door, closed with a lock and with a Private Area sign. I wonder what was behind.
"Lady?" He asked from downstairs.
"Yes?"
"Rock folk for today?"
"Perfect!"
I bit down a smile. It was nice to find someone with the same taste of music as me. Molly and I were opposite.
I took my shirt and bra off and looked at the tiny mirror hanging in a wall. I took a deep breath. It had been a while since someone saw me like this.
It will be fine. He is doing his job. He seems to be a nice guy. He only had good words about this. You heard him.
I put those things over my nipples, leaving them completely covered. My breast were still naked, though. And I still felt a bit insecure.
I walked down with my shirt over my chest. He was cleaning the chair and had set a little cart next to it. He had everything ready.
"I'm back"
He looked up and smile.
"Everything okay?"
"Yeah" I kind of lied my knees were shaking.
He moved around without getting up, pushing his stool with his feet. He took a paper and told me to get closer to him.
"I need you to uncover yourself, Abi"
I bit my lip.
"Yeah, obviously. Yeah."
He patiently waited for the long seconds it took me to decided.
Used to hungry and disgusting looks from men when I was in this state or similar, it hit hard when Daniel politely kept his eyes away from my chest.
"Come closer."
He had black gloves on and a bottle.
I wasn't ready for it. I almost pant when he pressed his hand on my skin. He was so careful and respectful. Really, it was unbelievable. His big hand moved around my breast with slow strokes.
"I'm cleaning the skin. It's important because the needle will open it. It would leave open wounds. The coolest, though. But it's important to clean it first."
"Okay..."
I put my hands behind my back and looked down. My bare chest was right in front the most attractive guy ever and I was on the verge of fainting.
"Abi..."
"Mhm"
"Don't be nervous" He laughed.
"Easy to say"
"You will love it. It's addictive"
He turned around and grabbed another bottle before putting the content on his fingers.
"This will help with the drawing. To plaster it in your skin."
I nodded.
He put the cold cream on me and massaged it softly.
"Good?" He asked looking up at me. Fuck...
I nodded with a smile and he turned again, taking the drawing.
"Okay. Ready? Let's see how this beauty looks on you."
"I'm ready"
The pressed the paper on my skin and made sure it was perfectly positioned. I stopped breathing when he gently pulled the paper.
"Fuck, yes. It's beautiful, Abigail" He gasped put of breath. "Turn around"
With his big hands on my hips, he made me turn and check myself on the mirror. I looked at my chest. He was right. The leaves curled around my breast and it was perfect.
"What do you say?" He said peeking from behind me. His warm hands were still on my hips and somehow they felt perfect on me.
"You are so talented, Daniel."
"Just wait and see the real thing" He gave me a cheeky smile that made me blush.
Soon I was laying on the chair, completely reclined. It was more like a bed now. He was on my side, my arm was weirdly hanging on one side, trapped between his chest and the leather. I was looking at the ceiling because he was way to close to look at him now and I was to nervous.
"Okay. Let's make a line and see how you feel"
The buzzing sound filled the room.
"3..2...1..."
I felt the needle on my skin and the vibrations on my ribcage. It burned.
"Fuck"
"Too bad?"
I shook my head.
"It's fine. I can take it"
"Brave girl. Just tell me if you need to stop"
"Understood"
I tried to get my mind of the feeling. I tried to pay more attention to his fingers than the needle. He was softly humming alongside some Mumford and Sons song.
"You have good skin"
I laughed a bit, trying to not move too much.
"That's weird"
He laughed too.
"Yeah, you are right. You just make the job easy." He said shooting a quick glance to my face.
"I'm glad"
Minutes passed and I was so deep in my thoughts that I didn't hear him.
"I've done the circle. Let's get with the leaves."
I bit my lip. It was going fast.
"How would you describe the pain?"
"A scratch. A very deep one. Like when -ah" I closed my eyes and bit my lips. Suddenly, something had hurt more than before. "Fuck, that hurted" I whispered.
"Sorry. The angle I suppose. There is bone here" He gently tapped my ribs and when I looked down at him he was blushing. Cute.
"It's okay. I was caught off guard"
"Ready?"
"Go on"
He kept tattooing and humming with the music. He was so close I could see. The freckles on his nose, the softness of his curls, the bridge of his nose... He was beautiful.
"I can't do my job if you look at me like that, Abi"
I blushed and looked away, mh heart pounding on my chest. I was like a little girl.
"Relax..." He stroked my arm with his hand and then cleaned the ink from the tattoo.
"Yeah, sorry"
It tried to stay still, to not look at him and make him uncomfortable. He was just doing his job after all.
"You are behaving well. I like you, you are a good client" He muttered.
I was only able to nod, his words having a bigger effect than they should.
Time went by, the pain became a dull soreness, as if the skin had gone numb.
"How are you feeling?" He asked.
"I'm good."
"You wanna stay here a bit more so I can add color?"
I bit my lip and nodded. His eyes darted to my mouth for a second before he looked away.
Danny POV.
Unfair. That's what it was. She had those brown eyes, big brown eyes. Her nose was straight and she had those perfect lips. Then she bit them and I almost scream.
Her body was warm under may hands, her skin was so perfect. Not only for working. She had little marks here and there, moles everywhere... It was the most difficult job I had done, not for the tattoo itself, but for Abigail, calm and breathing slowly, biting his finger once in a while. She was behaving perfectly, of course. But she was giving me those eyes. She was there half naked in my studio, being all cute and beautiful.
I looked at the work in front of me. The leaves curled perfectly and followed the curve of her breast. It looked really good on her. Just perfect.
"Okay... Last leaf."
She muttered a yes. She was nervous. I had caught her staring and I had to force myself to not react. To not lean and press my mouth on hers.
I made it carefully, not wanting to fuck up now. Not that I used to.
"Okay, Abi. I'm done with this. Do you trust me or want to check it before?"
"It's not like if your erase it if there was something wrong" She whispered half laughing.
Even her laugh was beautiful.
"Well, you are right. So... Let's get to it"
She was looking at the ceiling when I pressed the needle with the green ink. I felt her twich a bit and her hand fell to my shoulder.
Abigail POV.
I grabbed his shoulder hard.
"You said it hurts less"
"It usually does." He said stoping. "Is it really bad?"
I looked at him. It had been a bit worst. But I could take it, right?
"I-I think I can do it"
"Of course you do, you are doing well" Those praising words, accompanied by a little touch on my belly, mande my heart miss a beat.
He resumed his work and I tried to not flinch. It turns out that it took you longer with this. I saw him working with colors, checking the drawing and different images. At some point, he was so close, his whole forearm was on me. He felt warm and and let me grab his shoulder.
"You are doing so well. We are almost there... Last touches."
I closed my eyes. Yep, Jennifer needs to know about this.
Therapy was a way to recover from the last few years. Jennifer was helping me to be the old Abigail, or a new one. But a different Abigail than the one Arnie created. I didn't want to be scared anymore. I wanted to take my own decision, to do things I could have never imagined. So that's why I was here. I was getting a tattoo with the most handsome tattoo artist ever. He was making me dizzy and I didn't know if I was ready for all of this.
"Abi?"
I looked at him.
"I said we are done" He was trying to not laugh, his lips were pressed in a thin line. "Where were you, lady?"
I chuckled. "Not thinking about the pain"
"Oh honey, nothing of that. You did so good." He patted my tummy and leaned back on the chair. "Get up and check it"
I sat and looked down gasping when I saw what he had done.
"Oh God, Daniel."
"Let me help you"
I tried to ignore the fact that he had a hand on my waist to help me.
I was in front of the mirror, he was behind me and I was completely stunned. He had made it perfectly. Daniel Ricciardo was a fantastic tattoo artist.
"Oh Daniel, I love it"
He laughed. He was so happy he laughed and his smile was like the sun.
"I do like it a lot too. Thank you for choosing me"
"It wasn't me, it was Molly"
"Thank her for me please"
I laughed a bit and looked back at the tattoo.
"It's perfect."
"You were brave. I know it's painful. You did it well"
"You made it easy" I whispered and looked at him through the mirror.
"Let me clean it" He said with a tiny smile.
Like before, he sat on the stool and made me stand in front of him. He was even more careful than before. He put cream and cleaned it before talking a picture.
"With your permission, I will post it on Instagram"
"Okay" I smiled. He was proud of his work and it showed. So why would I take that from him.
"Let me cover and I will let you get dressed."
He covered it with plastic and was as careful as before. I was so surprised of his work, of the respect and how in any moment he made me felt like a piece of meat or something. Not even the doctor had treated me this well.
"Fine. I'll let you get dressed."
Soon I was behind the curtain, taking deep breath I got dressed. I had gotten a tattoo. And wow. What a experience.
When I came down, the door was opened and I heard Daniel outside. He was talking to Lewis in whispers.
"Oh, hey." Lewis saw me. "Daniel showed me. It's beautiful. Congratulations".
I smiled and walked to them.
"I did nothing. I just waited there"
"Abi, the guy before you almost cried." Daniel touched my shoulder.
"I'll let you guys"
Lweis went back to the studio and Daniel leaned on the counter.
"Well, miss Abi" He claped his hands. "It has been a pleasure to work for you. Really. I love the tattoo, you made it easy, you worked with me... So... For real and from the bottom of my heart. Ham&Avo's door will always be opened for you. I hope you come and let me mark your skin again."
I blushed at his little speach, walking a bit closer.
"Wow. Thank you, really. I was really comfortable the whole time. Painful but not as much as I thought. And really. You are amazing. It's beautiful."
He smiled and pulled a lollipop from a drawer.
"Wash the tattoo three times a day and... This cream. Please, no sun, no beach, no pool. Not until it's healed. Count a couple of weeks. Maybe three. Anything, any doubt, just come by or text."
He wave me the cream and the lollipop.
"Well... Now. The funny part." He laughed a bit and I rolled my eyes. "150 for you"
"For me? Tell me what it really is"
"200, but I won't take more than one fifty, lady."
"Daniel..." He couldn't do this, he didn't know me.
"No. I don't want to hear anything about it"
I sighed and looked at him. He was giving me his best puppy eyes.
"Okay..."
I paid him and he walked me to the door.
"Enjoy your new piece. You look beautiful on it"
"Thank you, really"
And for the third time, I left the parlor with a big smile on my face. He was different. A bit of a cliché, but I hadn't met anyone like him.
It was when I was cleaning the tattoo that night when Molly texted me.
Molly: someone was happy to work today.
A link to Instagram came with the message. I opened it.
@.ham&avotattoo: our last piece today, beautiful Argelian ivy for a woman of herself. Thank you for the patience, three appointments and two hours of laying in the studio. Enjoy it as much as Ric enjoyed working on it.
↪️@.mollyalberts: amazing, you are welcome Ric. I convinced her.
↪️@.hopper_abigail: thank you guys, Daniel is an amazing artist.
And third part done!! Hope you liked it!! All the love is appreciated, don't be shy and tell me what you think about this fic!
Also, all the pics are taken from pinterest, you can find them on the mood board.
Next part: Deep thinking.
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saiouma post game AU inspired by Taylor Swift music
a thread I started on twitter in March (2021) when I was listening to half of the evermore album ( and a bit of folklore) on loop
ironically, it starts with "closure", from Ouma's perspective who thinks that Saihara reaching out to him now is unnecessary and performatory only to solidify Saihara's good guy look in media's eyes, not out of care and that he only wants closure from him
the idea that Saihara just wants to tie loose ends, be told what he didn't understand and probably apologize for some things that are meaningless to Ouma as long as they ended the game anyway is repulsing to him, so he shuts him out, bc he doesn't want that sense of finality
next up is "gold rush", it's really loud about v3 cast everywhere he looks, but all the credit for HIS plan goes to Saihara and partially to Momota, while he gets the rep of "Komaeda type character" with "you tried" sticker and "are you insane?" looks pointed at him
Saihara totally hates the attention, but Ouma doesn't know that since they DON'T communicate at all, so he's really bitter about how much Saihara is loved, just collecting what Ouma worked for. On one hand, he predicted that Saihara would have to finish the game in his place
he left all those leads for him, because he knew he wouldn't be there for the final, and it's fine, Saihara carried it out the way he wanted him to, so why is he mad? and well, in this song there are so many lines that just... h
"I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch
Everybody wants you
Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you
Walk past, quick brush" bitch, you're jealous and distance yourself because you want to pretend you don't care
"Eyes like sinking ships
On waters so inviting
I almost jump in" hate to break it to you Ouma, but it doesn't sound like you don't like the gold eyes after all, I meant rush, gold rush Like "jump in"?! hold your horses, take him to a date first, dude
"I see me padding across your wooden floors" Literally fantasizing about living with him, I told you to hold your horses. "My mind turns your life into folklore I can't dare to dream about you anymore" Wait, not like that-
So for him the moment he realizes he's into Saihara he immediately assumes that it'll never be, and he has a lot of anger at Team DR, at all the fans, at himself for being attracted to someone rn (while there are other things he should focus on),
and at Saihara for (what he only assumed is) an attempt to smooth over the problematic persona of Kokichi to get a good ending for the public view. So the *totally* reasonable thing for him to do next is to give Saihara HELL, obviously.
And so the next song is " 'tis the damn season" and I am so vibing with that one, y'all don't understand, it's like, soft violence, the longing, the "we can call it even", I am foaming at the mouth, this one gives me so many scenarios
"There’s an ache in you, put there by the ache in me" aka it's angst time, the pain when, ugh, when you're an idiot hurting your own feelings and messing with your crush's head, because you can't stop yourself from either flirting with him or pushing him away the very next second
(and this is where I said I am gonna take a break and then didn't come back to this until today)
okay, so I can't stress this enough - my post-game Kokichi continues to hide behind his in-game persona and dials it up whenever there's even a chance of publicity. I'd like him to quote "It's obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together" to Harukawa but really, he died for those people, he might do something like that in an interview for show, but the attitude from mad woman is directed at TDR and fans... for the most part. He acts like a spoiled celebrity and he's always having a scandal, whether it be getting into physical fights with fans or reporters, or saying something offensive or throwing a fit and trashing a place (like a hotel room or a store) because he got upset, being caught drunk or smoking, making crude comments about other participants of the game when asked at the events they're forced to attend because of their contracts (he won't answer anything if they get to him any other day tho) so in his " 'tis the damn season" era a lot of rumors is born
A lot of them centered around him and Shuichi, most of them having a bit of truth to them. There is something developing between them because deep down it's what both of them really want, but Kokichi is still playing with Saihara's feelings, making it a game of cat and mouse, pulling him along, being the one to seek him out, flirt, but also always the first to backpedal and leave him alone in a rush
but eventually it starts to get through to him that Saihara actually cares and that it's hurting him, so we enter with champagne problems when he realizes Saihara is being genuine with him and the "dropped your hand while dancing" is literal because it's one of the official parties, organized by one of the many anti-danganronpa organizations that ask Saihara to give speeches on their events like this one, and they're waltzing, having a quiet conversation, Ouma's tease backfiring on him and he runs away just like that
Cue him holing up god knows where to mope for weeks, agonizing over worst case scenarios, playing it over and over in his head, certain that he hurt Saihara with his playing and pushed their relationship beyond saving and that's when the last great american dynasty starts playing, because he uses that time to finally sort through his pre-game stuff too, and it turns out they were almost-not-really together back then too, so he blew it thrice and they won't be getting any more fresh starts therefore "Who knows if I never showed up what could've been. There goes the loudest woman this town has ever seen. I had a marvelous time ruining everything :)" bc he read his diary and thinks it's his fault Saihara joined danganronpa (it isn't)
and there's no way to incorporate my tears ricochet smoothly with its literal message but I think about "I didn't have it in myself to go with grace" a lot and if you re-frame it from Momota killing him directly to their whole group scapegoating him and pushing him in the direction of becoming the villain they wanted him to be just to wonder why he doesn't come to group therapy and tell the press they have no idea why he's being hostile with them now that it's all over. It'd be simpler if they still hated him like they were always supposed, but now their eyes are suddenly open to bigger enemies, so they believe he can just... what, sit in with them like it's all sunshine and rainbows? Like his presence doesn't make things more painful? "Look at how my tears ricochet" in a sense of a realization, the same sentiment as "There’s an ache in you, put there by the ache in me", the way he's hurting affects everyone. When he separated himself from the group in game it was noble, but now it's borderline sabotage of their progress out of avoidance, he's withholding closure, denying healing that has to be done, it isn't just about whatever mind games he's been playing with Shuichi, Kokichi is stuck in his game mindset, creating a tear in their group by alienating himself from it. He needs to talk with Miu, Gonta... even Kaito
He has to work out his place in the group and spend some time with friends, doing some healing before he gets back to Shuichi and they actually, finally talk things out, get together.
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chapter 5, page 50
first - previous - next
[image description: an sac webcomic page. "probably should have transformed before this, bit late now but- huh?" jade says, looking over at lewis who has his arm held out to catch her attention while looking down at somthing. "what is it?". more of the kitchen is shown, it's mostly bare still, aside from a now visible high shelf on the empty wall behind them, containing a few items, the most notable being a carboard box stained with blood.
"ovens on. cheese sticks?" lewis replies, crouched down next to the oven, jade leaning over to see what he's looking at. "don't know word or spelling. pizza cheese"
"you don't know how to spell mozzarella?" jade asks, eyebrow raised. "i may be a bit stupid" lewis replies, from off panel. the panel only shows jade's head, and the rest of the kitchen behind her, including the now open door and the shadowed figure in front of it. their body is mostly in shadow, all that can be seen is their lower half in boots, jeans, pinkish-purple shirt. the shillouette of their upper half implies pointed ears, and wavy hair, and mst notably, pink glowing eyes with slitted pupils peering out of the shadow. end id]
owo who's this?
anyway place your bets for what's up next
ooh "going to try and finish next weeks page early so there's no repeat because of this week's con!" yeah that didnt fucking happen. but here we are and heres a cliffhanger for your patience!
also as a change of pace from my recent "really want to make sac into a printed comic" rambles, i did actually make something else into a published work so i'm a published illustrator now! not just me- there were 6 of us and i specifically was one of 2 illustrators! a fun guide aimed at and created by young trans people
"A guide for trans, non-binary and gender queer people to help navigate through life and the systems around them as well as educating others on the experiences and truths of trans people. Whether you are questioning your gender identity or wondering what being trans even means, this book is for you!
From accessing trans health care, being an ally exploring your identity and getting answers about who you are, this incredible guidebook will hold your hand through it all and show you the safest most accessible ways to being your true self (and supporting people in your life to do the same).
In a world full of systems that can be a maze to navigate, especially as a marginalised person, we have got your back and are clearing the way for simple support."
so yeah you can get that here!!
anyway con ramble: con went better than expected at least! i mean i'm not going to that one again unless i get a dealers table, but i covered all of my costs so better than it was in birmingham febuary! i took a bunch of stuff from the hotel when i left to since i got a nicer room than i meant to which came with fancy coffee pods which i nicked and spent too long on sunday trying to give them away to people but nobody at the con had the right coffee machine if they had one
also i dont know what it is but no matter how much detail i try and put in the background it always feels too empty. i blame this mostly on my own bedroom where i am most of the time im at home. picture howls bedroom from howls moving castle but all the trinkets are all art prints, stickers, plushies, and assorted bullshit. thats where i live. also my art program keeps throwing a hissy fit if i add too many things
#sac#someone always cares#webcomic#webcomics#also i gave the coffee pods to my manager since she had the right kind#i did try to pawn them off to random con goers with a “free coffee pod with any purchase” sign but only one person took me up on that#i dont even think that kids parents had the right kind of coffee machine but the kid was delighted with the novelty of a free coffee pod
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Posted 27.5.
Start of the month:
Met with P in Telč. The weather was terrible :D but I had good svičkova and a good talk with my friend! I also picked up some albums she's been wanting to get rid of, and I'll pass them on to my kids who want them! woo!
As I was on the bus to get there, I passed the "pretty bridge" again and I decided to finally find it and check out the view. I was right, it's amazing! I then went on to Chodov for some more cinnabuns :D
On Sunday I went to Hlavni, thought I'd play some pogo. Honestly not many good raids but I did one and I finished a few researches so ok. I had a YUMMY pancake with ice cream.
6.5. Considering doing this
7.5. I had the most productive morning wow. first of all, i slept i think 9h so wow to that!
Made and filled pancakes for C's bday, packed them up nice with skz stickers :D
caught up on met gala skz gossip :D
made lunch (sandwich and smoothie)
bought rice and made breakfast (i researched this morning and apparently potatoes are also bad for ibs. all starches except bland ass white rice are, so, white rice it is)
did most of the dishes so it's not a whole mess.
i still have pancakes left over so that's tomorrow sorted :D
i'm following what's happening in Palestine and getting ready for this week's protest. :/
but in the process i was on fb again and found this bit of typical internet discourse
8.5.
:( onigiri class for adults is full. the lady hasn't contacted me about meeting. and yesterday i made pancakes for a new friend but it turned out we weren't able to meet and my class pissed me off so i just ate the pancakes.
i'll give it till the end of this week and then i'll contact the lady asking to maybe only speak online, if meeting is too hard.
talked to my dad about this new job idea and he's enthusiasic. his idea is that if i'm looking for a bridge job, i might as well look for one in the general area (family) of they company i'd like to work for. he said oil rigs have a similar system. they are called differently tho which makes my search even more complicated.
idk why, when i talk to others about this, it seems so possible, but when i'm in my own head, it seems like a silly dream.
meanwhile, pogo gave me 2 more useless 4 stars :D i mean yay i'm happy with my collection but truly every pokemon i use and want to be good is meh :D
the animation before i could catch the diancie was fun :) but the diancie also has trash stats lol.
hello sir mr vegas sir... afterglow you say? O.O
in completely opposite news, i guess i'm happy someone put this up, even if clearly someone was Very Upset it was up.
it's nice to know that despite it all, there are SOME czech people who care.
OMG SOMEONE IS USING THE ESIM I BOUGHT!
12.5. They used a bit more!
The lady I wanted to talk to about work has rejected me. I guess my next stop is reddit :D
I had Korean on Friday and it was excellent! I then went to the agency that someone recommended to talk about potential job offers in my city and they were like "uh you should send us an email" which YEP i knew it (i tried but it got spammed).
Yesterday sure was a day. It was my mom's 11 years dethiversary. I had a weird ass dream about her of course.
I made a very hopeful meal plan for the rest of the month... fingers crossed. then went shopping for it. I also went to balkan store to get sweets for my kids, but I'll have to do more today bcs they didn't have my faves. Went to Flora to do some of my Korean HW - I have too much lol - and had a cake for breakfast... not the healthiest of choices but I was starving by that point because I didn't have breakfast at home. Saw C and said hi :D Then had a phonecall with D.
I hoped to see Aurora Borealis last night so I went to sleep early. I just slept until midnight, went out to see if anything was there - saw the city was oddly lively at midnight - didn't see AB, went back to sleep. Got a solid 9-10h last night thanks to this :D
There's a protest today, I'm getting ready and I shaved my legs :D priorities! :D
wore a dress and open sandals, no regrets, it was perfect for the weather, especially with the hat and the mask.
on my way to the protest i was on a bus and a man reached over and gave me a flower. i was confused but my kids reminded me it's mother's day!
some of them are going to the rammstein concert so the chat is buzzing :D (in the city i also saw hockey fans so wow so much stuff happening here now)
it was a good protest overall, though i felt like there were maybe fewer people than last time. sadly when we arrived there was a small group of pro isr protesters waiting for us (with cops between us, no issue) and a lady had a massive panic attack, it was kinda scary. ambulance came and helped her and i think it all ended up ok.
I went to the other balkan market later and got a burek and the rest of the sweets i want to share.
then i went to flora again to finish my homework. and have one more cake hehe
rip my feetsies :D
meanwhile... two things i'm considering. a) swimming in the local pool once a week. idk yet i'm so scared to try but :/ i want to? b) tmi but there's a big sxtoy store near the balkan market and i'm considering a toy. we'll see. honestly i'm far more concerned about the swimming... being perceived half naked is uh :(
and on a totally different note, i asked on reddit about the job and yeah... i think it's not for me. sadly. ah well.
18.5. hm so far all my attempts to socialize have been destroyed, i wonder why :D telc was good but rainy and i ended up being 1h late. my local friend wasn't in for pancakes. last week i made plans for pub quiz and then i locked my card by typing in the wrong number 3 times as i was trying to withdraw ca$h for the quiz master. Sigh. Even the fun lesson i planned with that one class ended up being with only half of us!
Now I joned a pogo group for bounsweet community day... let's see if i manage ><
some other adventures have been happening tho! I managed to try corncob - why sweet? and i found a taiyaki place that i really like!
yesterday before korean (since i had to leave early to unblock my card......) i was bored and it was raining so i found myself in the small botanical garden which currently has a succulents exhibit.
I did buy a smol one :) and it inspired me to clean my plants too so i did some of that yesterday and today.
After Korean I ended up at the Nepalese Indian place and had a great lunch. Omg their food is so good sob.
In fandom news, Jeff is in Sweden. I'm fine.
And this vid of Khao by First just melted me. Sometimes when people take pictures or even draw people they love you can just see how they see them and it's wonderful.
And I made plans with P for next weekend! I'm exciteeed!
It's spring here and plants are pretty <3
21.5. I've exercised 3 days in a row so that's nice.
On Sunday i did go to the center to meet up with the pogo group i follow on discord. i managed to speak to absolutely no one and even the pic we took hasn't been posted so there's like 0 evidence i was there. well, i got some codes from the leader so that. sigh, i'm so bad at this.
i got my period and bled all over everything again, despite a tampon and a pad. so now i'm washing all my sheets and protectors. happy tuesday to me.
27.5. last Thursday I joined the Pub Quiz group and had a good time and wasn't totally useless. Just got another confirmation I should have more faith in myself.
Evaluations sent and I'm slowly wrapping up the school year. (Omg today I talked to S*'s mom and I was so awkward lorde why am I like thissss aaaa)
Ugh ANYWAY. This weekend P visited! We did some good (and some mid :D ) food tasting, went to a medieval fair and visited the castle!
When she left, I got on a tram and spent an hour just traveling and reading. I'm reading Natsume's book of friend's finally and I still love it as much as I did originally. Such an underrated manga.
Did my homework in a cafe and had some cake :) and then did my shopping for the week.
Wednesday will be my last Full Day at work. It's really hard saying bye to some of the kids. sG said today that he'll continue if I'm not the teacher. He will be really busy and he would have made time for me but now he's not sure. I almost wept yo. Teens.
PS. I tried a new form where I write more often and keep it in a draft. I like it... but I wonder if it'll post without errors hahaha
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Loves the story about being Amelia younger sister. Can this came to my mind could you pretty please make this a reality lol. So the reader is Amelia and dereks younger sister ( obviously lol) and she gets sick. But she doesn’t want them to know because they will overreact. So without her telling them that she is sick she ends up getting worse and ends up in the hospital, just for Amelia and Derek to find out . Does that make sense. This came to me late at night lol. Thank you:)
For a few days your well being in your body had been lost. From an initial exhaustion and fatigue, for which you had perceived stress as the main cause to slightly stinging in the chest and body aches that you only stamped as tiredness of the last week, there was a lot going at university; lectures until late in the evening, answering 80 quiz questions daily on top of your homework so that you don't forget what you have learned and the tests you had to write in what felt like every subject you could possibly have.
It was almost midnight when you started to finish up your work. You were the only one in this house, at least you thought so, who was still awake to do things that had no time to be postponed.
"You look pale," did you hear your sisters voice and startled for a second out of shock before you looked at the clock for the 10th time this minute and slowly began to collect the papers and pens from the brown coffee table."Is everything okay?"
You just nodded a 'yes', not even bothering to talk out of feeling sick, and got up from your chair to pile up the papers in the back of the table when a wave of dizziness caught up with you and you used your hands to support yourself. "Just totally stressed." you mumbled as you felt a worrying glance and a hand on your back.
Slowly your vision returned to normal, you picked up your things into your arms and turned to Amelia who was standing right behind you. With an attempted smile, you squeezed past her and walked up the stairs. "I'm good."
Before you went to bed, you stole a pill from the bathroom cabinet and disappeared. -It is just a little cold- you thought.
---
"Y/N Shepard, 22 years young." the paramedic called as soon as the doors were opened from the ambulance and he pulled out the stretcher and got out himself. "According to first responders, she passed out while she was about to order a coffee.. Mild sinus tachycardia, blood pressure is low. Temperature is 102,38°F"
You became conscious before the ambulance arrived, but the people around you didn't agree to let you go and wanted to have you examined and now you were here, the attempt to escape from the mess was unsuccessful.
A little confused, you looked around and saw the faces of Owen and Meredith. Almost immediately, before the blonde could even say something, you cut her out. "Don't tell Amy and Derek."
She stroked your hair and looked at you confused and worried. She didn't understood why you wanted to keep your ambulance arrival a secret from your siblings. Even if she had a medical confidentiality obligation towards her patients, she had to tell her sister in law and husband. They were your family.
She nodded to Owen and he understood immediately that he should beep both of them on their pagers. As soon as he disappeared, Meredith pushed you into one of the examination rooms and started to look you up and down.
"Why don't you want the two of them to know?" she asked cautiously while placing some adhesive stickers on your chest and hanging you on a machine. "You know exactly how they are as soon as I am sick. Overprotective - and that is annoying. I am not a little kid anymore."
She stopped moving and looked at you. Her hands found their way onto your shoulder and squeezed them once just before she sat down in front of you and looked deep into your eyes. "They are your siblings, Y/N. Be glad that you have someone who cares about you."
She stopped for a short time and looked at your heart rate on the monitor before turning to you a little worried, adapting a blood pressure cuff on your arm, waiting for the results to show up on her chart. "You have cardiac arrhythmia. Have you had a cold lately?"
"No, I've just been pretty tired and exhausted. I also had a slight sting in my chest once in a while but thought it came from my stomach; I haven't been eating particularly well lately."
---
"What were you thinking by not telling us that you are not feeling well? You don't have three doctors at your home around the clock for nothing!" said Derek a little louder, his face flashed red like a tomato.
When he got the news, he immediately ran down to the emergency room, fearing the worst. He was pissed of when he saw you lying there and he was even angrier when he had to hear every information from Meredith that she had found out and what she suspected. "And that's exactly why I didn't want you to know. You always overdo it!"
"Y/N, heart muscle inflammation is not a joke! If you had carried off the crap and hadn't passed out in the cafe, it could all have been worse than just a few needle sticks and a comfortable hospital bed!" he shouted in disbelief as his hands clenched into a fist and the knuckles were already turning white at the strength of his nervousness which he underpinned by pacing back and forth in front of your bed.
He didn't understand how you wanted to become a doctor but couldn't listen to your own body. It was impossible for him to understand how you could let it get this far. Derek asked for an answer, but you didn't feel like arguing with him anymore so you just stood silent; you were too tired and exhausted to continue this discussion.
You knew it was a fatal mistake, but you couldn't change and jump back in time either.
Just before Derek wanted to let his anger run free again, Amelia, who had previously been quiet, had stood in front of him and gave him an urgent look and some slight knocks on his now crossed arms. "You go now and calm down. The shouting doesn't help anyone here and I don't think the whole hospital has to know our family issues." he bit his lip and looked between you and your sister before he disappeared, but not without slamming the door behind him.
Startled, you let yourself fall back on the pillow, put your arm over your forehead and closed your eyes. You knew you messed up big time. "I'm sorry, Amelia."
"You should have told us, then you might not be here and have to stay for observation." she said calmly, unlike your brother and started moving towards the side of your bed where Amelia sat down on the chair that was already standing next to it and gently stroked the back of your head.
Amelia understood why you hadn't said anything, she had gone through the same with him too. But on the other hand, she could understand Derek. It also hurt her that you hadn't mentioned anything and that you didn't let her help you. "From now on, no more secrets, understand? I don't want to have this horrible feeling in my stomach when I get a message like that ever again. When you are in pain then let one of us know, regardless of whether you think it is a cramped muscle or not."
"You are so over caring." you said annoyed and rolled your eyes.
You knew it was in their nature to react like that, but as a young adult you couldn't understand that exactly this small gesture showed how important you were to a person. You just found it annoying.
"At some point in your life, you will think back to that moment and judge it completely different. Maybe we are far too caring now, later you will perhaps be grateful to us for it and understand why we do this." she sighed.
"We do this because we love you and we don't ever want to lose you."
#greys anatomy imagines#greys anatomy imagine#greysanatomy#greys anatomy#grey sloan memorial hospital#ameliashepherd x reader#ameliashepard x reader#amelia shepard x reader#amelia shephard imagine#ameliashephard#ameliashepard#amelia sheppard#amelia shepard#amelia shephard#amelia shepherd#meredithgrey#meredith grey#derek shepherd#oneshot#imagines#imagine#fanfic#fanfiction
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It's Only Temporary
Feyre Archeron x Rhys - Tattoo Artist Oneshot
After losing a bet, Rhys gets a new tattoo
Masterlist | Read on Ao3
Warnings: Language, Tattoos
2492 words
*******
“Fey!” Cassian’s voice boomed through the glass door as he grinned and waved to get her attention.
Looking up from her sketchbook, Feyre watched as Cassian tried to open the locked door again, shaking the wood so hard the bell hanging above it started chiming frantically.
She rolled her eyes and walked out from behind the counter she’d been working at, quickly getting to the door before his enthusiasm ripped it from its hinges. Feyre had barely flipped the lock when Cassian swung it open and immediately wrapped her in a bone crushing hug, lifting her off the ground as she laughed before setting her back down and ruffling her hair. Then he strutted through the dim lobby of her tattoo parlor taking his time to survey the walls of designs, the colorful crushed velvet couches, and the small rack of t-shirts and stickers she had for sale with the shop’s logo printed on them.
The Rainbow was Feyre’s baby. She’d saved almost every penny from the time she’d gotten her first job in order to afford her shop. After studying art in school and apprenticing for a few years, she’d finally been able to buy a small storefront in Velaris and built her business from the ground up.
It didn’t hurt that most of her friends liked tattoos and were always happy to be her canvases and subsequent advertising.
Shaking her head at Cassian who’d made himself at home near her front counter, Feyre returned to her spot with her sketchbook, now open to display a howling water wolf, and raised a brow, “Can’t you read? I’m closed.”
He scoffed, grinning, and leaned his forearms on the counter. “Not for me, Archeron.”
She rolled her eyes again but couldn’t help her smirk when she told him, “It late and I’m busy. Care to tell me why you’re here?” Feyre looked at him expectantly.
Cassian just grinned. “Do I need a reason to visit my very successful, very talented friend?”
“Wow, such flattery, Cassian. What exactly are you trying to get me to agree to?” She raised an eyebrow, trying to reign in a smirk.
He flashed her a wolfish grin. “Convince your sister to go out with me.”
Feyre snorted. “I don’t think you’re Elain’s type.”
“You’re hilarious, Archeron.” Cassian deadpanned and rolled his eyes, “Come on, Fey. Talk me up to Nesta.”
Feyre sighed, closing her sketchbook, and resigning herself to not getting anymore work done tonight. “Cass, I’ve done all I can on that front, believe me. You’ll have to win her over all on your own.”
“Been trying that for years.” He grumbled then ran a hand through his hair.
“I know that isn’t why you’re here,” Feyre insisted, “you ask me to do that literally every time you see me, so I know you didn’t seek me out for that. What’s up?”
He shot her a grin that made his single dimple stand out as he glanced at the door to the parlor. “Az is on his way over with Rhys and we were hoping you would do us a favor.”
“A favor?” she asked skeptically.
Cassian kept grinning. “You see, baby Arche,” Feyre snorted at the nickname. “your idiot boyfriend made a bet that he never stood a chance of winning, and he lost. Horribly.”
“Okay…” she rubbed at her face, trying to steel herself for whatever she was about to hear. Cassian’s shit-eating grin wasn’t making Feyre feel any better.
“Az and I want you to tattoo a little something special on Rhys for us.”
She paused, halting her shuffling of her sketches and furrowed her brows. “You want me to tattoo something on Rhys…because he lost a bet?”
“Yes.”
“Does Rhys know this?”
A slow smirk spread across Cass’s face, “He knows he’s coming to see you.”
Feyre rolled her eyes. “Cassian, why would I agree to tattoo something—you haven’t even said what it is, by the way—onto my boyfriend when he obviously doesn’t even know what’s happening?”
“Well,” Cass pointed out, “I’d hope he’d realize what was happening once you sat him in the chair and got your needles and ink out.”
She snorted, “You know what I mean.”
“Because, Fey,” He sighed dramatically, “Little Rhysie is a punk and lost a bet so now he has to get a tattoo of our choice. And who better to do it, than his wonderful tattoo artist of a girlfriend?” his grin came back, wider than before.
Feyre said nothing for a moment as she stared Cassian down. Then she asked, “How drunk is he?”
Cassian chuckled, “Very.”
Feyre smiled slowly, “And how drunk are you?”
He narrowed his eyes at her but lifted his fingers to show a small space between his thumb and pointer finger. “Just a little bit.”
“So, a lot.” Feyre corrected
Cassian was silent a moment before grinning, “Rhys bet that he could outdrink me.”
Feyre blinked, then clutched the counter as she bent over laughing. She heard Cassian’s loud chortles next to her a moment later. When she stood back up, she wiped a tear from her eye and shook her head.
“Oh, my gods,” She was still chuckling, trying to picture Rhys go shot for shot with the mass of a man standing in front of her. “I love him, but sometimes he’s such an idiot.”
“I think you mean all the time.”
Just then, the bell on the door jingled again and Azriel held it open with one arm as he gripped a stumbling Rhys with the other.
“Hi, Feyre.” Azriel nodded at her as the door shut behind him.
“Hey, Az” She chuckled and walked towards the pair. “Can you lock that? Thanks.”
“Feyre, darling!” Rhys suddenly beamed and stumbled towards her, stepping close enough that she could smell every shot he’d taken on his breath. He used both hands to gently cup her face, squishing her cheeks in little and pressing a sloppy but sweet kiss to her lips. “I missed you.”
She smiled at him but stepped back to avoid his breath. “I saw you a few hours ago.”
He pouted, “That’s too long. I’ve had to look at those two ugly faces all night when I could’ve been looking at your dazzling one.”
“Why does he have to insult us when he compliments her?” Cass grumbled to Azriel who looked mildly amused.
He snorted. “Perspective.”
Feyre removed herself from Rhys’ grip only for him to wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her into his side. She leaned into his touch, and helped keep him standing, as she rested her head on his shoulder as she faced Azriel.
“Az, can you fill me in? Cassian tried, but I don’t know how much I trust his story.”
Cassian feigned hurt and shook his head. “Fey, I am wounded that you doubt me.”
Azriel’s explanation had been essentially the same as Cassian’s with a few more details and a little less slurring of words. She’d rolled her eyes but told them to wait in the lobby while she took Rhys back to her studio.
Feyre had no intention of actually tattooing her very intoxicated boyfriend just because he and his brothers had made a stupid bet. He’d have to be completely sober before she agreed to that.
Guiding Rhys into her back room, she waited until he was sitting on the edge of her large, leather chair before moving to stand between his spread legs. His hands instantly found her waist and she rested her palms on his thighs.
Quirking a brow at her boyfriend, Feyre asked, “Did you actually think you could out drink Cassian?”
Rhys scoffed, “I’m just as big as he is, why shouldn’t I have been able to do it?”
Feyre smirked as Rhys pouted. “Babe, you may be fit,” she huffed a laugh at his raised brow, “okay, fine, extremely fit, but Cass is a tank. And he’s a bartender. There’s no possible way you could’ve won that bet.”
Rhys kept pouting, flexing his fingers over her hips, “You’re supposed to be on my side, Darling.”
She laughed and pecked him on the cheek. “I am, always.” She kissed his lips for good measure. “But I’m going to tease you when you’re being an idiot.”
He used his grip on her hips to pull her towards him for an actual kiss. Feyre stayed wrapped in his arms for as long as she could stand his horrid tequila-drenched breath. Letting her arms loop around his neck and her fingers tangle in his hair, Feyre pulled back.
Rhys let his forehead droop onto her chest and Feyre had the distinct feeling that it was less about the warm comfort of her skin and more about an excuse for Rhys to press his face into her breasts.
“I don’t hear any needles buzzing back there, Fey!” Cassian bellowed from the lobby area. She snorted at the clear sound of a hand hitting someone’s head and the following curse.
She rolled her eyes but kept playing with Rhys’ hair as he mumbled something too muffled for her to understand.
“What was that?” she asked.
Raising his face, he looked at her and winced. “Are you actually going to tattoo me?”
She snickered at the disdain on his features.
“Maybe I should,” she teased, “to teach you a lesson making ridiculous bets.”
Rhys winked. “you can teach me a lesson anytime, Darling.”
Feyre rolled her eyes and was about to retort back when Cassian yelled again, “Baby Arche! We’re not paying you to make out back there!”
She snorted and hollered, “You’re not paying me at all! I’m getting there, don’t rush me.”
Azriel’s voice came next, “We didn’t bring your intoxicated man-child here so the two of you could get it on in the back parlor.”
Rhys snorted and replied back, “You say that like it’s never happened.”
“Rhys.” She hissed, smacking his arm as he chuckled.
“Gross,” two voices audibly gagged from the other room. “You’d better sanitize back there!”
A pause, then a disgusted Cassian said, “You’ve tattooed me on that chair, I don’t want to know what you sickos have done to it.”
Feyre and Rhys snickered before she said, “You might want to avoid the front couch then, too.”
Rhys, still grinning, added, “And the check-out counter—”
“—and the bathroom sink!” Feyre finished.
“Heathens.” Azriel muttered.
Rhys and Feyre laughed at their friends’ obvious disgust.
“I don’t need to hear any more of this,” Cassian insisted. “Ever.”
Feyre rolled her eyes and turned on her machine, allowing the steady buzz of the needle to flow into the waiting area; Cassian’s loud whoop telling her the sound was loud enough.
She carefully set the device on her counter and let the buzz echo through the room as she turned towards a small drawer and pulled out a colorful packet.
Rhys raised an eyebrow at the needle she clearly wasn’t prepping to use on him and watched as she flipped through the pages of whatever she was holding.
She paused on a page and grinned, flipping it around for him to see.
“Do you want a flying bat or one that’s hanging upside down?”
Rhys blinked. Twice. He slowly grinned back at his clever girlfriend as she handed him the sheet of temporary, press-on tattoos.
They were cartoonish-looking designs; the ones made for children that you could use a wet cloth to press onto your skin. He flipped through the rest of the pages to see a variety of other animals and plants, all ready to be cut out and used.
“Is my only choice a bat?” He grinned, looking back up at Feyre to see her already grabbing a scissor and paper towel.
She snorted. “That was what your brothers insisted on.” She took back the packet and carefully cut out the two bats. “They may be drunk enough to think a press-on is a real tattoo, but I don’t know if they’d accept anything else.”
When she held up both bat options for him, he nodded towards the one with outstretched wings. Feyre wet the paper towels and pushed his sleeve up to reveal his toned forearm. After making sure his skin was clean and dry, she gently pressed the bat onto his skin and covered the design with the wet paper towel, allying pressure to keep the image steady.
Rhys reached over with his free hand and grabbed the packet again. “Why do you have these? Besides for saving your boyfriend from a stupid bet?” he finished with a wide grin.
She laughed, still pressing firmly on the tattoo. “I keep them for the kids.”
At his raised brow she rolled her eyes. “Sometimes my clients can’t help but have their kids with them, so I keep the press-ons for those who see their parents and insist they get a tattoo, too.” She snorted at some memory. “I used to have washable markers for them to use but then a few of them would walk out of here looking like some avant-garde painting, so I switched to these. It’s adorable when they hold their cartoon dragon next to their parent’s actual ink.”
Rhys chuckled and Feyre lifted her hand, slowly peeling back the sticky paper to reveal a cute, flying bat.
He flexed his arm, grinning as the movement made the bat’s wings look as if they were flying. “How do I look?”
She leaned in to inspect the bat, making a show of darting between the cartoon and his real tattoos trailing down his arm. “Hmm, I think maybe when you’re sober, I should actually ink this onto you.”
Her grin made him laugh. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss next to the bat, careful not to brush it, and he smiled as she looked back at him.
“How’s it going?” Az’s low voice carried from the front room, making Feyre chuckle and Rhys huff.
She leaned over and expertly turned off the still-buzzing needle before calling back, “Just finished!”
Rhys brought his arm up and laughed again at the small, cheery bat placed between his darker swirls of years-old markings. He locked eyes with Feyre again as she put her supplies away and moved to stand once again between his legs. “You think they’ll buy it?”
She snorted, “Probably not.” She laughed again at his sullen expression. “But I don’t think the bet ever specified the tattoo having to be real.”
Rhys’ grin returned in full force as he brought his hands to Feyre’s face and guided her lips towards his. “You, Darling, are spectacular.”
Laughing again, Feyre leaned out of his reach. “And you, babe, still have horrible breath.”
Rhys rolled his eyes but loosened his grip as she stepped out of his arms, taking her hand as she led them back towards the front lobby.
“Come on,” she said over her shoulder, winking, “let’s show them your new tattoo.”
*****
Taglist:
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#feysand#feyre#rhys#rhysand#rhys x feyre#feyre x rhysand#feyre and rhysand#rhysand and feyre#feysand au#feysand fic#feysand fluff#rhys and feyre#feyre and Rhys#acotar#cassian#azriel#tattoo shop#fake tattoo#feyre archeron#a court of thrones and roses#feyre x rhys
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ascendance - 01
PAIRING: mob!bucky barnes x reader
WARNINGS: violence, dark themes, age gap (reader is 23, bucky is 37)
SUMMARY: she was at the wrong place at the wrong time and a misunderstanding dooms her to a life as an ascendance card under the watch of the executer.
A/N: i’m so excited to go back to my mob writing roots with this one. there’s a bit of a few twists and changes to the traditional mob writing i’ve done before and i am really excited to be sharing chapter one with you. hope you enjoy it xx
> NEXT CHAPTER
The ambience was dark, badly lit by the yellow flickering lights in the halls with echoes of the buzzing of the hot old light bulbs. There was no sound but that buzz and the heavy sound of his boots hitting the rotting wood floor boards. The scent in the air was putrid, a mix of what seemed like life meeting its end stage, cheap cider and weed. It was definitely different and he didn’t trust it.
At the end of the corridor there it was. 107. The 107th flat in purgatory with the door slightly opened. He pushed the door open, the smell getting more intense and his boots sticky with the liquor spilled on the floor.
- What did you do? - each word was punctuated with intense disbelief, as if this was all a nightmare.
- Bucky, help me!
PRESENT
The wind brushed and pulled her hair into different directions as she stepped off the train’s step. She rushed through the streets of New York, hair pin stuck in the middle of her teeth as she fought the winds to try and set her hair into an appropriate hair do while running down the street at the same time. The chattering people and the sun peaking through the clouds was hopeful as she grabbed her coffee from the same vendor off the side street as her eyes gazed upon the Metropolitan Opera House which had been gracing the New York landscape for longer than she had been on this earth and now she was part of it, she was a small speck in an almost 60 year long history.
Her smiled widened as her sneakers hit the pavement, eyes gazing over the fountain and the flags of the production coming down from the opera house’s arches. The same production she was part off. Sure, she was a chorus girl but the mere thought of singing on that stage, of watching that public in those red velvet seats under the chandelier just made it all more exciting. She walked inside the theatre through the stage door, meeting the manager at the door.
- Hi. - she leaned her hands against the desk where the manager was surrounded by attendance and cast sheets as well as a big laptop shining a blue light onto her face. The woman didn’t even look up, instead putting up a board with the names of all people in the production in front of her. - Do you need to see my ID?
- Just sign in front of your name.
Y/N giddily looked at the list of names, hers closer to the bottom but there, written in bold Arial font. She signed her name in front of her printed one with the barely working pen, before pinning it over the board and handing it over to the manager who pointed inside the opera theatre. She held onto her gym bag harshly, padding the sublime floors and looking around with such wonder one would believe she’d never been here. She’d been here before, she was here every month to watch a performance but now she was not guest, she was not just another person walking in with a ticket, she was part of it, she was part of the show. After years of doing community plays, workshops and failed auditions, she had gotten here and suddenly all those days spent in bed feeling miserable in bed after getting rejected yet again didn’t matter anymore she was here.
Her eyes glanced at every tiny little ornament in the opera house until she entered the theatre room. Her heart filled with joy and happy nostalgia as the red and golden tones of the room involved her. There wasn’t anyone in the theatre yet except for a few musicians from the instrumental pit and some cleaners so she was free to roam around. Her fingers traced the suede velvet of the red seats, finding a few missing binoculars on the grounds but not really caring.
- You! - she whipped her head towards the voice which came from a woman, probably in her mid 40s all dressed in black with a gold name tag slightly above her left breast.
- Hi. - Y/N smiled, extending her hand towards the woman. - I’m Y/N, I’m the new ...
- I don’t care, we need silk ribbons, now.
- Oh, I ... I’m new, I don’t know where I’d get silk ribbons, m’am.
- The costume room? Go, stop looking at me as if you were Bambi and go.
- Oh, okay.
She made her way hastily out of the theatre room wondering how she was going to find silk ribbons, where she was going to find them and why she had to find them. Maybe it was a hazing ritual for new people, after all, she had been into various hazings during her career, including downing a whole bottle of honey which she couldn’t even finish, only eating one fourth of it before becoming nauseous.
She stopped in the middle of the hall, wondering where the costume room could be. It couldn’t be on the top floor, that was usually where the bars and common rooms were so if the building followed regular construction protocols for opera houses, it was probably on the underground section of the house where the dressing rooms used to be. Y/N ventured into the lift, pressing the lowest number on the number chart of the panel until she reached the underground floor. Y/N looked around, people running in and out yet no one stopped whenever she tried to question where the costume room was. She had managed to find the costume shop but no luck finding the costume room until she was pretty much pressed against a dark door with those exact words by the passing crowd.
She twisted the knob of the costume room door, tumbling onto the dark room as a result. The room was filled to the brim with costumes on each side of the room, a plexiglass divider between the two sides which stopped every meter or so and also appeared to be divided onto female and male costumes with the ensemble costumes at the back. She padded across the concrete floors, looking through dresses and accessories for ribbons but no successful attempt. The ruffling from the other side of the room had her turning around, forehead furrowed as she walked towards the plexiglass divider.
- Hello? - she questioned, wondering if there was someone in this room who could help her find silk ribbons. Great, she had barely joined the company and was already screwing up. Great, Y/N. Way to go, Y/N.
She saw someone all dressed in black just like the women before, yet there seemed to be something which didn’t match up; black jeans, black shirt and black leathe jacket as well as a pair of also black boots, scruffed and probably entirely too old to still be holding up together. Her eyes caught his which despite the low almost non existent light of the costume room, were light, a sort of greyish blue like the calm sea before of storm. His gaze pulled hers in, like gravity and she couldn’t help but clutch the jacket next to her as a bad feeling along with something she’d never felt before settled in her stomach.
His hair was mostly pushed back yet the ones which framed his face fell like dominos. She moved along the side where she was to one of the plexiglass gaps and he did the same still maintaining eye contact with her, until the two reached the gap. She didn’t notice she was holding her breathe in until she breathed out.
- Hi. - her own hand gripped her wrist, shoe grinding against the floors. - Uhm, I’m new here and this lady sent me down to find some silk ribbons but I can’t find any. Do you ...
- I... uh ... I don’t know where they are. - he faltered for a few seconds before regaining his posture.
- Oh, I thought since you were here, you might be one of the stage managers.
- I’m not. - his tone was monotonous, almost as if he had the answer to her question before she even made it.
- Oh ... - she rubbed her neck. - Are you also looking for silk ribbons?
- I’m looking for the dressing rooms, actually.
- They’re down the hall. - she pointed at the door as if it was the “down the hall”. - Hum ... Are you new here too?
- Yeah. Thanks. - he walked towards the door, opening it and stepping out before catching her gaze once again.
Y/N remained in the middle of the room as if she were in a transe and maybe she was. It felt like she was falling yet she was firm on her feet and she did not like that feeling. She did not like that feeling of falling, it wasn’t feeling, it was hopeless falling and she wondered why looking at a man who looked like an 80′s glam rock reject made her feel like that, so lost. Maybe it was the respect he appeared to command by merely looking at her or maybe it was the nerves about being new and not being able to find some goddamn silk ribbons. Damn it.
- Call for 30 minutes before dress rehearsal. - the voice came from the intercom and immediately her mind dropped the idea of finding silk ribbons and moved to finding the ensemble dressing room and get dressed and ready. Damn it, this was going well.
She rushed down the hall, bag almost slipping off her shoulder until she saw the door with the ensemble plaque on it. The young woman peaked inside the room where pretty much everyone with a role on the ensemble were already sat down. She shyly walked in the middle row until she found her own little corner, her name written on a sticker on the mirror along with photos of how the makeup should be done as well as how to get the costume in correctly. The same goofy smile returned as she sat down and saw her name above her. It was fine, she was here, she was part of a company.
- Hey you’re new. - the girl next to her twirled her chair to face her. She already had her makeup on and hair pinned curled up and ready to put a wig cap on. - I’m Elliot but people call me Elle.
- Y/N, I’m the new chorus girl. First day.
- Aw, welcome. - she had a bright smile, inviting and almost as exciting as the whole experience of being there. - Do you want help pincurling your hair? I can get it done while you do your makeup.
- Yes, please. - she pulled out a big box from her bag which had all her makeup and pins.
Elle started pin curling her hair up while she put an inappropriate amount of blush on which was just appropriate to get on stage under the bright yellow lights. Turns out half the practice for opera is learning to do your makeup under bright yellow lights and then learning to sing. 10 minutes to rehearsal start, she was along with Elle going down and up to the main stage where most dancers were warming up. Elle left her to do so, leaving Y/N once again to just stand there, looking around like a little sheep in the middle of wolves.
- I’ve never seen you around. - her shoulders almost went up as he turned to see one of the principal sopranos, if not the principal soprano. She had seen all of her shows ever since she was a teenager and she had even wrote an essay for university on her for a module. Catherine Vargas, the best New York could offer, if not the best the world could offer. - I didn’t know they were still casting dancers.
- Oh, I’m a chorus girl, Mrs Vargas.
- A chorus girl? - she furrowed her brows at her, looking her up and down. - What type?
- The type who ... is in the back with the ensemble. - her voice lowered at least a few volumes down, back curved as if she were bowing.
- I know what chorus girls do. I asked what vocal type.
- Lyric soprano, m’am.
- A lyric soprano in the chorus. Interesting. Where did you train?
- Julliard, m’am.
- Julliard? - she looked her up and down again. - That is a great school. What is a Julliard graduate doing in the chorus line?
- Everyone starts somewhere. - she laughed nervously, scratching her arm as she did so.
- Not a lyric soprano from Julliard. Composers sure do love an ingenue, don’t they? Don’t worry, a few months with me and you’ll be supporting.
- That’s ... that’s really kind, Mrs. Vargas. Thank you.
- Don’t thank me. Could you get me some honey from my dressing room? I’m feeling a bit strained.
- It’s 5 minutes until rehearsal starts.
- It’s okay, chorus normally doesn’t do much during rehearsal. Can you get it?
- Yeah, I think so.
She straightened her crinkled skirt, looking behind her back before going down the stairs which led down to the dressing rooms. This was good, right? Getting into one of the main star’s good graces besides she was right, the chorus didn’t really get much attention during rehearsals, at least not as much as the main characters. It’s easier to get away with screwing up in the back than in the front, her teacher would tell her which would always earn a few laughs from her colleagues. Yet, Y/N hated to make any mistakes. She would stay up all night in front of a cheap piano she had bought from a charity shop, playing and singing the same 5 note progression until her flatmate yelled at her to shut up. For her, if it wasn’t perfect and if she didn’t get any criticism while performing it, she hadn’t done it right. It didn’t matter at the end of the day but what did matter was to climb up the ladder. She didn’t want to be a star, all she wanted was to be able to be on that stage forever with the spotlight shining on her and she knew there was only one way to climb up. Actually there were two, extreme luck and connections. Now, she didn’t have the best of luck so her major choice was to make connections and reach that status.
She made her way into the principal dressing room. It was probably one of the biggest she had ever seen, with expensive decor and various flowers covering it. She wondered how many flowers she received on opening nights if that was the number she had on regular days. Y/N made her way to the desk, opening drawers and more drawers to find honey until she found it on the lowest drawn. She went down on her knees to grab it, mindless and careless to everything that was happening until she felt a sharp pain on the side of her her.
Then everything went dark.
TAGLIST: @lookiamtrying @buckyswillows @blossomslibrary @juliesland @iloveshawnieboi @unmagically
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stationary date with nct dream
genre: fluff all the way
word count: 2.4k
a/n: this popped off when I was planning a stationary date with a friend of mine. Jaemin's part got a bit short cause I kinda forgot about his existence and added it after I lost all my imagination.
⌜ mark ⌟
Between Mark's endless promotions and you studying for your exams, you thought it would be nice to plan a stationary date. You needed new supplies and your boyfriend Mark needed some time to himself.
When you and Mark arrived to the stationary you discovered a few days ago, you noticed that it wasn't as busy as usual. There were only a few people and all that could be heard was soft mumbling of these people along with the soft music playing in the back ground. After making sure Mark was well hidden under his mask, hat and sunglasses combo, the two of you quickly entered the stationary and immediately sprinted towards the rack here the colourful pens were stacked. After minutes of trying out pens and trying to create a nice colour palette, you moved on to the notebooks.
Hours passed by, the sun setting and everybody else leaving. Mark lifted his head from the Oz-Pack's he was checking out and smiled at the sight of you trying to pick out a pencil case. You looked adorable looking from a pencil case to another, examining them carefully so you could choose one of them.
"Come on, I'll buy you both of them." No matter how much you protested, Mark didn't listen and still bought you everything you've put in the little basket the cashier gave you when you first entered the store.
On the way back, you squeezed Mark's hand tightly. "I'm sorry if you didn't have as much as fun as I did." you mumbled quietly. Your boyfriend was quick to shake his head and smile.
"No, I really enjoyed it. It was quite calming actually. We should do it again another time."
⌜ renjun ⌟
The idea was all Renjun. Over the few months, he had grown a habit of keeping a diary. He would sketch stuff, tape random stuff, put stickers and more. When you told him that a bullet journal would look really nice and showed him some pictures, he became really excited. A few days later, he asked you to tag along while going to the stationary to buy the items he needed. Of course, you quickly agreed and took him to a stationary you knew that was pretty popular. By the time you guys got there, it was quite late. Only about an hour left to closing the store, it was almost empty.
You two quickly entered the store and started your little journey of looking for the perfect items. Renjun told you he would go for a more brown-ish look, so you both picked out lots of nude coloured supplies with black ball point pens and stickers. He also got a few sketching pens and markers.
And Renjun being Renjun, he managed to convince you to keep a bullet journal too. So whatever you guys picked for Renjun, you quickly bought them too and left the store minutes before closing. Not wanting to end the night, you quickly went to a convenience store nearby and bought a few drinks. You went to a park, sat on the picnic tables and started to decorate your journals.
You had finished earlier, leaving a bit more place for writing and less for decorations. You wrote something inside the journal, left it open and started napping with your arms under your head. Renjun smiled at the sight of you sleeping and noticed that your journal was open. He took it to close it, yet didn't when he saw what was scribbled inside. Instead, he smiled and leaned forward to plant a kiss on your hair.
Words weren't enough to express his endless and pure love to you.
Dear Diary,
I love Renjun.
⌜ jeno ⌟
Jeno was the perfect boyfriend, quite literally. He was caring, gentle, sweet, handsome, funny and all. But most importantly, he never forgot anything you said. Never. In your whole relationship of 3,5 years he never forgot anything you said. Including you telling him about how you ran out of school supplies over face time a few months ago.
Which is how you ended up in front of a stationary you mentioned to your boyfriend over a week ago. He pulled you in, walking over to the yearly agendas to get you the alpaca one you always wanted. Whatever you mentioned to him on that face time, he found all of them. He also payed for them, after you made him promise to let you pay when he wanted to buy something.
After the two of you exited the store and went back to the dorms, you quickly walked over to his shared room with Jaemin. Thankfully he wasn't at the dorm. You quickly pushed your boyfriend on the bed, climbing on his lap and squeezing the hell out of him. He laughed and kissed your forehead, hugging you back.
"Thanks for remembering everything I say, Jeno. You have no idea how loved that makes me feel." you mumbled quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly put your pointer finger on his lips. "Let me continue. Seeing how much you care for me makes me really happy and I think that we could actually have a long and beautiful future ahead of us." you leaned to your bag sitting a few inches away from the two of you. You quickly pulled out a box out of the bag and threw the bag to its old place. You opened the box and pulled out two rings. Jeno's eyes widened as the realisation hit him.
"Which is why I'm giving you this promise ring. One day, when we're sure we can come out to the whole world, I'm going to marry you. Until then, let's keep these rings as a promise."
Jeno talked to his manager later that day, telling him that both him and you were ready to go public.
⌜ haechan ⌟
Donghyuck hadn't left you alone in days, clinging on you like a koala. You had come from your hometown to Seoul for two weeks. Your boyfriend missed you like crazy over the months, being in a long distance relationship could be hard sometimes. There were only a few days left, after flying back to your hometown you were going to start your spring quarter of the school year. A friend of yours who used to lived in Seoul had told you about a certain stationary, mentioning cute pens and school supplies you couldn't find in your hometown.
When you asked Donghyuck if he wanted to tag along, he whined and whined until you managed to convince him. You needed him anyways, you still had difficulties in speaking and understanding Korean.
"Do we really have to do this? You only have a few days left, I want to cuddle with you! And more..." He pouted and crossed his arms on his chest. When you finally arrived at the stationary, he entered it unwillingly but you know the mighty power of Stationaries. As soon as he stepped in, he was amazed by the environment and the beautiful supplies and before you knew it he was more excited than you.
After an hour of wandering in the stationary and picking out stuff, the store started to get busy. Considering you had to keep Donghyuck's existence there as a secret, both of you quickly payed and ran out. Giggling like high school girls, you two exited the store and called a cab. While waiting, you two compared the stuff you bought. You had bought all the stuff you were planning to buy and he bought a notebook and a bunch of pens to write lyrics.
The first song he wrote was a love song for you and only you, waiting to be shared to the whole world with only the two of you knowing the meaning behind it.
⌜ jaemin ⌟
When Jaemin came up to you with an idea of a gaming journal, you couldn't say no. He wanted create a little booklet filled with all the games he's ever played, along with ratings and comments about them. He was very enthusiastic about video games, always finding something new to play. Sometimes he would come over to your place to play games with you, or simply teach you how to play one.
The two of you met up at the stationary close your school, as it was in a less busier area. While there, he also declared that this meet up was actually a date. While he was looking at the stuff he wanted to buy, you tried out different pens. Noticing a little white board and a few colourful white board markers, you quickly bought them so you could use them for studying. You had to start revising for your exams in a few days. When you were done, you fund Jaemin in the huge store, now just following him around. He bought different coloured markers and pens and a black notebook. He also got copies of some game covers to stick on each page.
When the two of you got back to the dorms, you quickly pulled a chair next to his table where his small set up was. Placing your newly-bought items on the desks free space. You quickly began sticking the covers on each page, writing the games name and general information, how it ended, on what platform he played etc. At the very bottom, there were Jaemin's comments and a rating he gave. The first few pages were done, and you two were actually very proud of yourselves. It looked really good! Jaemin thanked you and gave you little kisses all over your face. After finishing showering you with kisses, he told you he'd play games with his friends. You quickly climbed on his lap and snuggled into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck with your legs swinging on his sides.
Jaemin smiled at the way you were cuddling with him and shook his head to the sides. He gave you a little kiss on the temple and started playing.
"Thank you sweetheart. You make me really happy by showing interest in my interests."
⌜ chenle ⌟
Chenle had bought you a few last minute plane tickets , and yes multiple tickets, because he wanted you to fly all around the world with him for Dream's world tour. He made you so happy, proving that he doesn't want to be away from you for that long.
When he came home and told you about the tickets, your first idea was to create a small photo album. Though, you didn't want it to be simple. You wanted small details, which is why you were at the stationary now, trying to decide if you wanted to decorate the album with blue-ish colours or pink-ish colours. The items were laid on a small rack in the store, in a less busier part of it.
The date idea was both yours and Chenle's. You wanted him to come with you, he wanted it to be a date. And the closest place where this date could take place was the stationary a few blocks away from his house.
"I think we should go with pink." Chenle said after a very long silence. "The album cover is cream coloured, and pink would go better with that." Imagining what it would look like, you agreed with him. You bought a bunch of pink ink pens, Stabilo's and Signo's. You bought a few black pens and markers too. Chenle insisted on buying pink post-it's too, so you also bought them. Even though the two of you were done with the shopping, you still looked around and bought some stuff for the next school year.
Hours passed by in the little store. You found your boyfriend in the very back of the store, checking out agendas. You tapped his shoulder with a little smile, and let out a loud laugh when he flinched.
"Calm down, Lele. It's just me." He pouted and flicked your forehead gently. "You scared me! Are we going home?" He asked and rubbed his eyes. He was feeling sleepy. Something he does whenever he feels like he could sleep at the spot. "You look tired. I think we should." With your answer, you exited the store hand in hand.
Later that night, right before falling asleep, Chenle whispered something in your ear.
"I can't wait to travel like this with you, I hope we can do it with our children sometime in the future."
And you did it.
⌜ jisung ⌟
To say Jisung was freaked out would be an understatement. The first day of school was tomorrow, and he hadn't bought any school supplies. He called you last minute, rambling something about going to the stationary with him because you had a lot of "knowledge about pens and everything. You being the amazing significant other you are, quickly agreed and got ready.
After meeting Jisung in front of the stationary and making a list of everything that needs to be bought, you quickly got to work. Files, copy papers, scissors, pens, erasers and whatever else you need for school. You bought a few stuff for his locker too, so he could decorate it. You got copies of all the necessary papers and forms, quickly putting them all in a file you bought from the store.
Almost an hour later, you were finished. You quickly went to the dorms together to organize all of the stuff you had bought. While sticking the name tags on the notebooks, Jisung looked up at you ,who was sitting on his bed, and smiled gently. After watching you carefully write Park Jisung on each tag both in Hangul and Romanisation for a few minutes, he finally spoke up.
"Hey Y/N..?" You turned your head to him and tilted your head to the side. "Yeah, 'Sungie?" He blushed at the simple nickname, despite having heard it for almost a million times. It really affected him that much. "I wanted to thank you for helping me out today. I'm sorry I asked you to come over just like that, but I couldn't have finished all of this so soon without you." You chuckled and finished tagging your last item, quickly jumping on his bed, right next to him. You pulled him on your chest by pushing his head on it. Jisung smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist.
This was his happy place.
#nct dream#nct dream reactions#nct dream scenarios#nct dream drabbles#nct scenarios#nct drabbles#nct fluff#mark lee#huang renjun#lee jeno#lee donghyuck#na jaemin#zhong chenle#park jisung#nct mark#nct renjun#nct jeno#nct haechan#nct jaemin#nct chenle#nct jisung
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Wrapped Together (M)
Pairing: Namjoon x Reader
Word Count: 18K
Rating: M
Genre: Christmas AU, Romance, Drama
Warnings: Protected sex, oral (m. rec.), referenced illness/death of parent, swearing, classism.
Summary: Despite your best efforts to keep your head down, to self-preserve and endure what will no doubt be the worst Christmas of your life, you are still roped into volunteering for the hospital's annual gift wrap fundraiser. The enticing factor that lured you out? The promise of a new shift partner, Kim Namjoon. Though your first day together starts off with a slight miscalculation of his skills for wrapping, he soon becomes your essential ally in the fight to get through this lonely holiday season.
| Secret Santa Collab | My Masterlist |
A/N: A big thank you to @kimtaehyunq for asking me to join her Secret Santa Christmas Collab, this was my first collab ever and I absolutely loved it. And of course to my beta readers @m00nchild-shi and @ladyartemesia thank you for helping me gain the courage to post this. I hope that this fic is able to bring a bit of comfort to those celebrating the holidays a little differently this year, so please enjoy!
...
-5 Weeks Until Christmas-
Amidst the chatter of the office, a dull rumble reaches your ears and vibrates the desk beneath your fingers, waking you from the repetitive haze of your hundredth call report. The moment of confusion switches to frantic action when your brain finally catches on and recognizes it as your own personal phone. Scurrying through your purse, you nab it just in time, but after checking the caller ID you desperately wish you hadn’t.
You knew this call was coming, you’ve dreaded it since you felt the first freezing snowflake on the tip of your nose, when you heard the first carol blaring over the radio, and saw the first tacky inflatable gracing a lawn on your street. It happens every year, like clockwork, though this will be the first time she’ll be enlisting one and not two. Unable to put off the dreaded moment any longer, you answer, accepting that if you rip the band-aid off now and decline her invitation to join the wrapping fundraiser, it’ll be one less uncomfortable moment later.
“Aunt Emma, hey it’s been awhile.” She’s not exactly your aunt, but you’ve known her ever since you and your mother settled down here ten years ago. With little other family nearby she was one of the few you and your mom could always count on. Making your task to turn her down all the more difficult now.
“My dear, how are you holding up? I’m so sorry to do this but I'm calling with some rather unfortunate news.”
“Oh?” You exclaim, careful not to sound too hopeful that you might be free of your heavy burden.
“Yes, well it’s regarding the wrapping fundraiser. I wanted to put you on the same shifts as myself or Maria. I didn’t want to have you alone, since, well, you know... but there are so many rookie volunteers this year. And with you being part of the organization for so long, I was hoping you work with one of them instead for the evening shifts? It’ll just be you and him, do you think you could manage it?”
“I-I uh...” Now this is something you had not expected. You spent the past few weeks worrying about how you might have to work side by side with pitying glances, condolences, and referenced scripture from the usual staff. Any thoughts and prayers for your loss would likely turn you into a pool of tears. Not something you want to happen in public, or private for that matter, but if you are partnered with a newcomer, one who knows nothing of your past, maybe... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. “I can do that.”
“I knew you could! I’ll put you down for the weekday evenings from the seventh up to Christmas. You’re off work at four, right? I’ll send you more details later, but do you want me to be there to introduce you to the other volunteer?”
“No!” You blurt out, insisting in a volume far louder than necessary, but you can’t risk her acting on the offer. Introductions when done by Emma are dicey at best, with one solid breath she has the capacity to share every bit of your sad history, leaving you exactly where you’d rather not be. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. No need to put yourself out like that, you can just tell me their name now and save yourself the trip.”
“Thank you dear, always so considerate. One second let me just grab that for you...” She pauses on the phone line, as you look around your office in worry, not wanting to get in trouble for taking a personal call on the clock. “Ah here it is. You’ll be working with Kim Namjoon...”
...
-Less than 3 Weeks Until Christmas-
After finishing work you head off to the mall for your first day on wrapping duty. It should be a relatively quiet night, since the majority of the crowd typically disperses at this time, heading home to be with families for dinner. Your own sits in a paper bag on the passenger seat of your car. A solitary meal as you battle the rush hour traffic. Finishing off the last of the salted fries with a lick of your fingers while you secure a parking spot.
Flipping down your visor you scoff when confronted with your appearance, your makeup melted off thanks to the struggles of your earlier shift. You dab and blend a fresh blot of concealer on the dark bags beneath your eyes, determined to erase any evidence of your doleful days and sleepless nights.
The rented store space is already set up, with a long table propped up right at the entrance. Dressed with a variety of paper and ribbon and looking particularly festive. The other volunteers give you a brief greeting and run down before they leave and pass the duties off to you. With them gone you take a seat, looking down at the selection you have to offer this year, trying with all your might not to focus on the empty chair beside you, one that is usually fill by your-
“Hi, sorry I’m late...” Your gaze flicks up from the table, startled to find a giant of a man. Greeting you with a smile warm enough to melt your frozen expression.
“H-hi,” You stutter out, staring at his handsome face framed with light brown locks, feeling as though you’ve seen it before, but can’t quite place where. “You must be Namjoon?” You ask, running through the list of actors and singers in your mind but coming up empty on who he reminds you of.
He nods, before confirming your name too, and launching into the reason behind his tardiness. “The traffic was not in my favour today.” He gestures to the table and the vacant seat behind it. “May I?”
“Of course.” You quickly scoot the folding table over so he can slip by the barrier that separates you from the mall. He takes off his coat to reveal a whole suit beneath, though he soon disposes of the jacket and tie too. You try not to gulp as he rolls up his sleeves in front of you, his arms flexing as they reveal themselves.
“Pretty quiet?” He asks looking around the mall.
“It usually is around now, give it an hour or two.”
“Have you been doing this long?”
“A few years...” You mumble, not wanting to dive too deep in that well, you quickly turn to pin the question on him instead. “What prompted you to volunteer? Did Emma enlist you during her recruiting effort?”
“She did, I found her posting the flyer at my workplace.” Namjoon chuckles. “But I’ve seen you all set up here before, and since my usual Christmas plans with my family have changed, I thought I’d join you all instead.”
“Oh, so you’re not spending Christmas with them?”
“No, they’ve gone to visit my sister and her family in her city this year. I unfortunately have a few work commitments I can’t get out of to make the trip in time, but rather than just mope about at home I thought I might be of some use.” Namjoon smiles again, his fingers folding the corner of the wrapping paper in front of him. “What about you, any plans?”
“No, I usually spend it with my mom, but she won’t be with me this year...” Or any year going forward, you consider while you give him a weak smile. She was the very reason you joined this organization all those years ago, when Aunt Emma was making her rounds and signing up everyone she could at the hospital, you and your mother were there for an appointment, your mom offered up both of your services lending you to a tradition that would extend for years through her treatment, remission, and the final return.
“So we're in the same boat?”
“I guess so.” His grin is so contagious, despite the differences in your situation you can’t help but agree.
Your first client of the evening comes forward and drops a small pile of kids toys in front of you both . “Thank god you're here. If I bring these home unwrapped my kids won’t hesitate to spoil the surprise.” You divide the presents between you and Namjoon while the mother keeps talking and flicking through the different styles of paper offered. “At least if they’re wrapped I can say I saw Santa at the mall and he gave me these early. They are so hard to fool these days.”
“I take it you’ll want the Santa stickers?” You ask pointing to a closed box behind you, hidden away from the wide and prying eyes of young children passing by.
“Yes, thank you so much!”
“No problem.” You assure her while putting the last piece of tape on the stack of video games. Though when you look over to check on Namjoon you find that he has barely even started. He cut off a sheet entirely too big and is attempting to fold it around the boxed animatronic pet. Your eyes stare at the state of the poor paper unable to look away from the crumpled carnage. But the shock soon turns to amusement over his determination to salvage the mangled sheet, and you find yourself biting your lip in an attempt not to laugh. Luckily the woman in front of you hasn’t noticed but once you're finished with yours, you reach over for the assist.
“Here, I can take over that one. Could you do the ribbon for me?”
Namjoon nods opening his mouth in an embarrassed grin. He does manage to secure the strand around the package but loses the spool before he can cut it. The red ribbon rolls all the way to your foot, before you stop it with a tap on the sole of your boot. Namjoon winces, while you let out a chuckle before bending over to hand it back to him, and finish wrapping the other present.
The attempt at a ribbon curl unfortunately goes the same as the package before it, with him completely at a loss and using the wrong edge of the scissor blade. Trying to save him you make another suggestion. “If you want you can always use the premade sticker curls.”
Namjoon nods and places them on the two packages along with the vibrant sticker of a cartoon Claus winking as he delivers the warning, ‘Do not open ‘till Christmas, Santa’s watching.’
As you load up the presents into a bag, Namjoon takes to the cashbox, looking expectantly from the client with his dashingly dimpled grin.
“Oh right.” She comments with an awkward smile. Opening her Gucci bag and matching wallet, the corners of her lips turning down when she rifles through several triple digit bills unable to find any smaller denomination.
The stand is by donation only, but the implication has always been that one should compensate the fundraiser for the service provided. You can usually tell when someone intends to leave no payment at all, and unfortunately you know this act all too well. She’ll apologize and say that she has to run to the bank and get some cash, but you’ll never see her again. Namjoon, unfamiliar with this ploy, continues to give his eager smile, and to your utter shock she submits, handing him a hundred dollar bill.
Namjoon thanks her profusely as she melts too under his gaze muttering, “Not a problem.” Before walking off clutching her now wrapped gifts.
You look to Namjoon in disbelief while he locks the money away in the cash box. Only breaking the silence when the client is fully out of earshot. “How the hell did you do that?!”
“Do what?” He raises an eyebrow completely oblivious to what he just achieved.
“She... she... you got her to donate, and such a large amount. How?”
“What do you mean how? People give that much all the time don’t they?”
“No, they don’t!”
“Oh...” He gives you another of his knee weakening smiles. “Sorry I assumed, I guess I’m just used to it.” He scratches at the back of his neck looking down at the table.
“Used to it? Where on earth do you see, do you get used to, that kind of generosity?”
“Through my job I suppose?” His grin turns to a look of embarrassment. “I work in art procurement, currently under contract with the museum. I seek out collectors and convince them to donate or loan out their assets.”
It would seem that getting people to open up their wallets is practically his profession. “Well... looks like manning the cash will be the perfect job for you.” That smile of his is a dangerous weapon, and one you would be remiss not to use in the fundraiser’s efforts. Though it still leaves one question unanswered. “But I have to ask...” Your previously concealed giggling comes to the surface. “Why on earth would you volunteer for a holiday wrapping station if you don’t know how to wrap?”
A blush reaches his cheeks. “Last year when I was here... I left with far more than I was expecting, and feeling as though I should have given more. So I figured if I couldn’t be with my own family, I wanted to do this instead.” He starts habitually folding a paper scrap. “And maybe I’d learn a useful skill-”
When a streak of red is left on the paper trailing behind his finger you jump to interrupt. “Is that...”
“Fuck.” He mutters pulling his index close to examine it. “Yeah, those scissors are sharp, didn’t realize I drew blood though.”
You immediately start rummaging around in your bag. “I know I have a couple in here, one second.” You pull out a small box of bandages and peel apart the papers to reveal the adhesive.
“You carry band-aids in your purse?” Namjoon asks, with a raised brow.
“You're the one who cut their finger trying to make a ribbon curl.”
“It wasn’t a criticism, sorry I just thought it was... nice.” He holds up the injury and you're careful to wrap the strip around it.
“Yes well,” Your face heats up as you catch yourself lingering. “Try to stay away from the scissors unless absolutely necessary. I’d rather not have to make a trip to the hospital.”
“That would be counter productive wouldn’t it?” Namjoon laughs outright.
...
Despite you being the only one to wrap you both manage the evening surprisingly well, pulling in a record donation amount.
“You must be good at your job,” you mutter with a smirk, as you finish counting the lockbox. “I’ve never seen people so happy to part with their money.”
“I only showed them how good of a job you did,” Namjoon explains. “I’ve never seen someone put so much care into wrapping.”
“First impressions for a gift can be important too.” You justify as you secure the cash in a deposit bag. “They put a lot of care into selecting the gift, why shouldn’t I exemplify that?”
“Even the gift cards?”
“Especially the gift cards. I have to make them memorable somehow don’t I?”
“True.” Namjoon concedes, with a small frown. “Listen I’m sorry if I didn’t make a good first impression on you myself. If you want I can call Emma and we will find someone else to help you.”
“No, I enjoyed working with you. It just caught me off guard that you didn’t actually know how to wrap. If you get bored of handling the cash I could try and teach you if you’d like... you said you wanted to learn right?”
“You’d be willing to show me?”
“Definitely, though let's stick to the premade ribbon curls. I’d rather not have to use anymore band-aids if I can avoid it.”
After pulling down the gate and locking up the station up behind. Namjoon accompanies you to the bank to drop off the deposit before you part ways for the evening, with you going out one exit and him another.
The sudden blast of cold air forces you to huddle in your coat, and crank the heat the very second you step into your car. As the windows to thaw and frost retreats, you spot your tall wrapping partner waiting at the bus stop.
“Now why would he...” You’re left perplexed judging from the description of his job and quality of his attire you assumed him to drive some sort of flashy car, never would you think he would take public transportation.
You drive over and stop right in front of Namjoon, rolling down the window. “Where do you live?”
“The Swan Estates, but if you don’t leave near there that’s fine I don’t mind bussing home.” Namjoon looks down the road. “It should be here soon.”
“It’s no problem, I pass by that area on my way home.” You reach across the car for the handle opening the door. “Come on get in. It’s too cold to wait for a bus.”
Namjoon nods, and eagerly hops into the car holding his hands close to his vents with a sigh. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. I didn’t think to ask, I just assumed-”
“That I could drive?”
You nod giving him a sheepish grin this time.
“As you saw earlier I’m rather accident prone. I think it’s safer for everyone if I leave the driving to others.” He chuckles looking out the window. “What about you? When not rescuing people from cold transit stops or wrapping disasters, what do you daylight as.”
You grimace at the question knowing your answer is nowhere near as impressive as his. “I’m a phone-rep for Interlude Shipping, I work in their tracking department.”
His reaction is not the usual glazed expression you get when you reveal that you work in a call centre, but a look of awe. “You must be so busy this time of year, how do you have energy for volunteering too?”
“I’m used to it.”
“Do you like it there?”
“It’s... a paycheck. I needed a full time position with benefits right out of school and that was what was available. I would have preferred something else but...” You stop yourself, scolding how much you almost revealed. Finding it far too easy to talk to Namjoon. He doesn’t pester you to continue but lets your abrupt end linger in the silence until he points out his house within the estate. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Namjoon nods in agreement with his dimples on full display. “Looking forward to it. Thanks again for the ride.”
After he leaves your car another nervous giggle you’ve been holding in finally escapes you. Three weeks working with this kind, considerate and downright gorgeous man. Though there’s no ring on his finger, he has to be attached to someone. Men like him don’t walk around single for long. Your shoulders fall at the thought, despite the fact that you have no intention of forming an attachment at this time... it’s still too soon.
Before you even pull out of Namjoon’s driveway, your phone vibrates from the cup holder you stashed it in. Aunt Emma’s name popping up on the display. You press the green button to accept and put her on speaker while you pull out onto the road.
“Hello my dear, just checking in to see how the first night went?”
“Good, no great actually. I think you’ll be happy with the result.”
“And your partner? Everything working well with him?”
“Yeah,” You confirm looking up in the rearview mirror taking one last look at Namjoon’s house. “He’s really nice, we already have a system in place so I think we’ll work well together.”
“That’s wonderful to hear. I was worried at first, wondered if I had made the right decision-”
“You did!” You encourage her, not wanting her to change her mind, and make another switch.
“Great, so we’ll carry on as is then. I’ll message Maria to let her know, I think she’s still on shift at the hospital though...” Aunt Emma mutters to herself. “Speaking of which I had to stop by there today and guess who was asking about you?”
You freeze in the front seat of your car, unable to say his name, but that doesn’t stop your chatty Aunt from continuing on despite your silence.
“That Jackson, such a nice young man, it’s a pity you-”
“Aunt Emma, I’m so sorry but I should go. ” You cut her off unwilling to listen to her disappointment over your own personal matter. “It’s getting late and I have work in the morning.”
“Oh of course, no problem dear. Call me if you need anything.”
When you arrive at your cold and empty apartment. The silence greets you with the usual punch to your gut, just as it has for the past eight months. She should be there to say hello and ask you about your day, just as she always had. But all that’s there to welcome you is the stack of dusty Christmas decor boxes thrown in the corner of the living room. Unwilling to spend another minute alone you sulk off to bed, ready to put another day behind and start the next. But for the first time in a while, you are actually looking forward to a fraction of the never ending cycle.
...
Whoever said Christmas time is the most wonderful time of year, clearly never worked a customer service job. They’ve never been yelled at for four hours straight, gone to lunch, and then endured another four. With a couple weeks still left until the looming deadline of Christmas you can only imagine what you’ll have to listen to in the coming days. The woes of a parent trying to track down their child's number one gift... it’s enough to send chills down your spine. Just once you’d like to find someone happy on the other end of the line, someone who didn’t need something from you, someone who called just to say hi, and indulge you with a friendly chat.
With the last call of the day done you throw on your coat, and bolt out of the office before anyone else. Elated by the fact that you have somewhere else to be, happy that someone else is expecting you. Namjoon beats you to the station today, chatting with the other volunteers as they leave. One of them pats you on the arm and delivers a sad smile, you seize with fear and the worry that they had discussed you, but when you find Namjoon beaming without a hint of concern the weight lifts and you can once again forget your loss for now.
“Hey, how was work?” He asks.
“Good... good.” You cover with a smile not wanting to drag him down. He doesn’t look convinced his eyes narrow and the corner of his lip twitches, but you reciprocate before he can confirm. “How about your day?”
“Quiet, I’ve spent the past few months alongside the curators putting together an exhibit and with it finally finished all that’s left is to wait until it’s over.”
“So you had to stay here for Christmas only to wait for it to end? That’s too bad.”
“There are a couple other tasks I have to attend, an auction, and an event for the patrons, but the tear down on the 24th is pretty important, some of the lenders will want their pieces back in time for Christmas.”
“That’s such a miserable deadline for so much work. Why would they ask you to give up your Christmas Eve to do that? Surely it can be done after the holiday can't it?”
“Not this one, it’s ‘The Gift of Christmas’ Past’ exhibit,” Namjoon explains. “Many people were good enough to donate their family heirlooms for the majority of the season, but come the actual holiday, it’s time for them to return home.”
You just about fall off your chair in awe. You’ve seen that exhibit advertised everywhere, even been tempted to go yourself, but the thought of going alone has prevented your attendance. “I had no idea, that’s such a popular exhibit, you worked on that?”
“I did, I even helped come up with the idea for it.” Namjoon beams, with a small amount of red rises to the surface of his cheeks. “The curators at the museum have been more than accommodating. I never thought I’d get the chance to step into their roll myself. I was lucky to be given the chance, so you can understand why I had to stay and help them once it’s finished. Of course it’s given me some other opportunities I would never have had in the past too, like the ability to help you here.”
You nod still looking at him in admiration, while in your mind a further divide falls between you. As friendly as he is to you, it’s obvious that he’s way out of your league. Even if you wanted to pursue something more with him, someone of his status... really it’s a wonder he even looks in your direction, let alone chose to volunteer at this tiny holiday wrapping station.
Your conversation is interrupted by a mall goer with a bag of gifts. Namjoon helps as best he can, supplying you with tape as he learns over your shoulder. Loaning you his finger to help you knot the ribbon around the gifts. With a sizeable donation left in Namjoon’s care you are both left alone at the table again.
Between clients you do your best to show him how to wrap the small boxes and ready cut paper at your disposal. Though his folding has improved, his use of tape can be considered... excessive. “You shouldn’t need more than three pieces on a present like this.” You chuckle as you catch his hand before it can apply the seventh piece of tape.
“But your packaging looks so durable compared to mine. How is it supposed to hold together if not for more tape.”
“Years of practice with tighter folds and better adhesive placement.” You analyze his work. “You might be an up and coming art curator but wrapping is my craft.”
Namjoon laughs and grabs a fresh sheet along with the scissors.
“Should I go fetch my band-aids?” You ask, gazing at the sharp implement with trepidation.
“No I’ve got this, I’m ready to earn my redemption.” Namjoon folds the paper several times before cutting a rounded edge. “Wrapping might not be my forte, but this I mastered long ago.” He opens up the paper grinning madly as he reveals a perfect snowflake.
You giggle at the innocence of the piece in question. “That is quite impressive, when did you become such a proficient?”
“I’d say I peaked at eight. One evening when it was just my sister and I, we covered my whole house with them. Every surface, every window, plastered with paper snow. Though my parents were less than enthused I like to think of it as my first full art show.”
“What on earth possessed you to do it?” You ask, trying to imagine the look on his parents as they returned home to the indoor flurry.
Namjoon looks up with a heavy expression, for such a lighthearted story why does he look so wary to tell you “A mutual fri-”
But as chance would have it he is once again interrupted by another coming to your station. When the post dinner rush hits you hardly get another chance to chat.
...
-2 Weeks Until Christmas-
The week passes in much the same way as the past two days, but with each evening session Namjoon is able to improve upon his wrapping skills a little more. To the point where you are comfortable to leave him alone for a few minutes to man the station.
“You’re sure it’s all right if I just run to the washroom for a minute?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I could put up the be back in five minutes sign if you-”
“Go, I can hold down the fort... just leave the band-aids.” You are ready to let out a big sigh when Namjoon holds up his hands in defeat. “Just kidding, I promise, now go.”
You hurry off as fast as you can swearing when you find a line up. By the time that you are finally able to return you find Namjoon finishing up with an attractive woman and her single gift. You smile at her as you join him behind the table, she pauses, caught off guard for a moment but then hands him the donation along with a slip of paper.
Namjoon opens it as she walks off. Blushing profusely before throwing it in the trash along with the wrapping scraps.
“What was that about?”
“Nothing... she just must have gotten the wrong impression.”
“Did she give you her phone number?”
Namjoon nods looking down with guilt.
“And you're not going to keep it? She was gorgeous.”
“What? No, of course not.”
“Right, I assume that wouldn’t go over well with your girlfriend.” You speculate, seeking to figure out his status once and for all.
“No girlfriend.” Namjoon mutters.
“Boyfriend?”
“No boyfriend either.” Namjoon smiles. “I just wasn’t looking to get her number.”
You look at him in disbelief. If she wasn’t good enough, there’s no way in hell you could ever dream of being with him.
...
The drive home in the evening is rather quiet. Namjoon’s fingers drag across his lips as if in deep compilation.
“Any big plans for your couple days of freedom?” With Aunt Emma’s team working the weekend that gives both you and Namjoon some time off, but unfortunately apart.
“What? Oh yes, I suppose.” He answers as though you dragged him from a stupor. “I have an auction to go to tomorrow for work.”
“Buying art for the museum are you?”
“Not exactly in the market to buy. But if you're not busy you should come along, I would love some company.”
“Not because you would love a drive?”
“No, not at all, I was planning on booking a car tonight. I could come pick you up on the way.”
You shake your head. “No, if we’re going together I’ll drive. No need to waste your money on something like that. What time should I pick you up?”
“I’ll have to double check and get back to you but likely late in the morning?” You nod in agreement as he pulls out his phone. “What’s your number?”
You give it to him and your cell vibrates in your pocket as he sends off a text a second later, leaving you with his own.
“So I guess I will see you tomorrow now then.”
“It’s a date.” Namjoon smiles as he gets out and leaves you in the car.
You snort in disbelief, staring after him while he runs off to the front door of his house. No, there’s no way, he can’t be serious, it’s not a date, date. The phone vibrates again, reminding you of the unread message he sent, prompting you to look at it before you drive off home.
This was the only phone number I actually wanted.
See you tomorrow,
- Namjoon
...
You lie in bed caught between denial and anticipation for what’s to come in the next day. Every moment that excitement bubbles up inside, you are forced to push it down with the weight of scepticism. Namjoon was looking to distract from his lonely Christmas, you are just the band-aid to his superficial wound, but would that be so bad? Haven’t you been using him the past week in the same manner, a mode of distraction? The only difference is the depths of your injuries. While his might be a simple cut repaired by time, yours is a laceration straight to the heart, damage that will soon bleed through a flimsy bandage, but at least you can hide it for now, you can conceal the extent of your misery and enjoy the comfort that is him for the holiday. Ripping that band-aid off won’t hurt, not compared to the damage that has already been done.
You look back at your phone smiling at his message, confirming that this is what you want for now, when to your surprise another comes in.
KNJ: Are you awake?
You double check the time, 12:23 a little late for a friendly chat isn’t it?
YN: Yeah, everything okay?
KNJ: That depends, what are your thoughts on Hallmark Christmas movies?
You pause in confusion, questioning his motives for such an odd query. Coming up dry you can give him the most truthful answer you can.
YN: They’re chestnuts.
KNJ: Chestnuts? 🤔
YN: Palatable only when thoroughly roasted. 🔥🔥🔥
Your phone starts ringing a second later, the caller Namjoon. You pick it up to hear him laughing on the other end. “I’ll have to remember that. You up for burning a film? I could use another open fire, there’s a pretty horrible one on their channel right now.”
“I’m sure I could spark an ember of criticism. How bad are we talking?”
“There’s a made up country, a town that looks like it exists solely for the purpose of celebrating Christmas-”
“And let me guess, a prince?”
“You know it?”
“Nope, just following the trend of tropes.” You grab your earbuds and venture out to the living room wrapped in your blanket, a beverage in hand, and ready to turn on your own TV. With one bud lodge in your ear to listen to Namjoon the other is free to take in the cringeworthy dialogue. “My god why were you watching this?”
“Couldn’t sleep, and I thought this would also help put me in the Christmas spirit, but I can’t stop laughing at how bad it is.” Namjoon chuckles deeply as the heroine stumbles over a mere pebble and falls into the hero’s arm.
“I don’t think you have any right to laugh at that part.” You join him in laughter. “You two appear to have some similarities.”
“Wait, so does this make me the clumsy lead and you the dashingly perfect love interest?”
“Oh most definitely, I’ll be saving your Christmas.”
“I suppose you are pretty perfect.”
You’re thankful that Namjoon isn’t there to see your response, silently choking on your glass of water, followed by spilling your sip all down your shirt, further emphasising your next point. “I’m not perfect.”
“Well you should let me see that side sometime, or I will continue to feel like this poor woman who is confronted with someone way out of their league.”
Namjoon thinks that you're out of his league? “No, I’m sorry but in order for me to save your Christmas based on this movie I have to play the perfect hero.” Of course the leading lady swoons in her prince's arms. “I just wish the characters had more depth, I’ve read kids books with a wider emotional range.”
“Me too. And the timing,” Namjoon scoffs. “It’s always so perfect. They always meet at the perfect moment and latch on immediately only to have everything work out in their favour, and it all claims to be a Christmas miracle, it doesn’t work like that.”
“That sounds like someone’s been scorned before on Christmas.”
“Not scorned no. More like a missed opportunity, one that I’ve regretted for a long while.”
“Anything I can help with?” You ask. “As the supporting lead that is my mission is it not?”
“Maybe, I’ll have to think about it. Unfortunately my dilemma isn’t so easy to solve.”
“I don’t think anyone's dilemma’s are ever as easy or clear cut as theirs.” You yawn as you lay down on the couch and watch the pitiful drama unfold. “Their world is perfect and always has their back through some sort of mystical power or being.”
“I think people in the real world call that god...” Namjoon chuckles.
“Yeah well, our god is a shitty writer if this is what their creations come to expect.” You murmur, stifling a yawn.
“Is that a crack in your shining armour I spy?”
“No, just commentary.” Though your own internal defences are askew, and the longer you watch the more you understand why. It’s jealousy, jealousy of how quickly they overcome any tragedy, and how they do so with a picture perfect life, as if the creators left all the negative emotions, the realistic impacts of trauma, on the cutting room floor. If only you were that perfect love interest that Namjoon wanted you to be... maybe you can keep the facade until the end of the holidays, at least one of you can have a better Christmas for it.
All you have to do is continue ignoring the most painful parts, a practice you are well versed in considering the boxes still looming in the shadowy corner, still unmoved after all this time. You know nothing good will come from unpacking them, there is no comfort inside, the only thing that could help is long gone, the story which your mother used to read to you every Christmas before you moved here. You’ve hunted through those boxes so many times while she was still here with you, but now that she’s gone you don’t even have the desire to look, nor the strength to store them away.
...
You wake hours later with a loud crumpling sound in your right ear. Your bud still in place, and your call time continues to count past the 7 hour mark. “Namjoon, are you there?” You inquire with a groggy yawn.
“Fuck... yeah, did I wake you?”
“It’s fine, sorry I fell asleep.”
“Don’t worry I did too. But unfortunately I seem to have lost an airpod at some point in the night.” The rustling continues as he chats to you. “I refuse to lose another to this couch, it’s taken so many from me already, you’ think I would have learned by now.”
“Oh, then this is a regular occurrence for you? Chatting up women until you fall asleep,” you scoff.
“No! God no, I just usually fall asleep listening to music and then my cushions eat them when I lower my defences.”
“I leave you to battle it out with your sofa, but what time should I pick you up?”
“Eleven okay with you?”
You double check the clock, ensuring you have enough time for a shower and to look presentable. “Yeah that works. I’ll see you then.”
...
You pull into the packed parking lot of a large warehouse. With Namjoon looking dapper in a blazer and peacoat. You yourself are glad to have chosen to dress a bit classier than your usual garb for a Saturday afternoon. When he said it was for work you couldn’t risk dressing down.
But there is still an air of confusion about your reason for being here. If he’s not attending to buy something for the museum or a client, why is his presence required? The items up for auction are not exactly what you expected, with the majority of it being furniture and woven rugs. You tilt your head in confusion as Namjoon eyes up an old wooden desk.
“Sorry,” He mutters, seeing you as he comes to from his distracted state. “I have a personal weakness for such items.”
“Don’t be, but is that why we're here?”
“No, although it is tempting.” He nods over to a collection of old black and white sketches on the wall across from you, graphite scenes of the city from long ago judging by subject matter and the yellowing of the paper behind the frame. “They’re the real reason we’re here. When I heard of this estate sale I knew that some of those works would likely come to market. I’m here to find out who buys them, and hopefully see if we can secure a possible loan for the museum in the future.”
“So how do you do it? How do you convince them to part with such pieces other than that dangerous smile of yours?”
Namjoon humours you, flashing his most coveted weapon. “Many of the artworks found at estate sales like this, they’ve fallen into disrepair. They often haven’t been cared for, likely kept in some musty room where the humidity damages them. The museum has a team of top rated and highly respected conservators who would be able to properly preserve it and slow any further deterioration, and in exchange for their services we ask for a short term loan of the art.
“A win-win.”
“I like to think so, but some people are rather protective of their investment. It can be a tricky negotiation which I have been on both sides of when I worked for the private sector.”
“Which do you prefer more?”
“Definitely the public. The museum doesn’t pay as much, but the audience and notoriety far greater. I really hope that I can continue my work with them once my initial contract ends.”
“I assume securing this for them will help in that goal?” You nod to the pieces, admiring the sought after collection.
“One can only hope. Who knows, maybe I’ll get my Christmas miracle like the movies promised.” He jokes, putting his hand on your shoulder and leading you on.
While you and Namjoon continue to look around at the lots up for bidding, he proceeds to fawn over the wooden art and furniture, taking pictures and looking up the makers.
You can’t help but enjoy his interest, watching his eyes go wide and his mouth gasp when he’s found something which intrigues him. “Have you ever purchased something for yourself at one of these?”
“A few things, tables, chairs, and books too. It’s a great place to find unique pieces, or things lost to the past.” He gives you a shy smile. “Is there anything you’d like to look for?”
A possible item springs to the forefront of your mind. “Do they have any books here now?”
Namjoon grins at your request and leads you over to several crates filled to the brim with books. All the copies inside look to be older editions of epic novels, nothing like what you hope to find. Your heart sinks as you let out a sigh of disappointment.
“Can I help?”
“Nah, I think I’m out of luck. I was looking for a kid’s picture book. I briefly met someone at the wrapping station who found a copy second hand, must have been at a sale like this. I was hoping I would have the same success, but that seems like a bit of a far reach.” Had it not been their gift to someone else you would have made them an offer for it or even gotten their name at the very least, but you were so distracted at the time... all you can see and remember to this day was the book in front of you.
“I’m sorry-” Namjoon starts with an unnecessary apology, it wasn’t his fault that you lost the favourite book of your youth, that you missed the chance to give your mother one last glimpse of the pages with you before she passed.
“It’s fine,” You cut him off not wanting to dwell on the loss or risk deteriorating that perfect cover right here in front of him, in front of everyone, when he has something important to attend to. “Should we go find seats before they start the auction?”
Namjoon nods, seeming to examine your eyes with careful study, but he will find no tears, no dampness there, those are locked away tight. He escorts you to a seat near the back. “This way we can get a better view of those bidding without looking out of place.”
The auction lots pass by with many remaining silent. Namjoon points out several antique dealers to you that are snapping up many of the pieces. But the rest of the buyers all appear to be waiting for the same prize that Namjoon is.
“Do you have any favourites to win?” You whisper to him as the collection is carried into view.
“I’m hoping for anyone I’ve dealt with in the past.” Namjoon nods in the direction of a middle aged woman dressing in a fur trimmed coat and strands of pearls draped around her neck. “Mrs. Coleman already has a few works in one of the exhibits, and Mr. Roth over there.” He turns to a man wearing a tweed jacket and a sturdy wooden cane in hand. “Is one of the most notable patrons of the museum.”
Silence falls in the room as the auctioneer takes up the gavel again and describes the works. Many around you sit up a little straighter as Namjoon’s eyes dart around at those he thinks might attempt to purchase.
The bids flood in, with very few gaps for breath as the numbers are rattled off. It takes only two minutes before the going price is more than your annual salary. You lower yourself, pooling in your seat as the extravagant wealth is thrown around you.
Once the pace slows, Namjoon's face highlights his concern, his eyes glancing back and forth between two people, the older lady in mink he spoke of before, and an unknown man with a cell pressed to his ear.
As the wooden hammer drops so do the corners of Namjoon’s lips.
“And sold to the gentleman on the phone number three-two-eight, number three-two-eight for sixty-five thousand.” The auctioneer announces.
“Shit.” Namjoon mutters under his breath.
“What, what happens now?”
“Now we have an anonymous buyer who I have no ability to meet or advise.” He sighs, hanging his head, with his fingers dragging across his mouth again.
“I’m so sorry.” You whisper as he nods next to you taking several deep breaths. Your hand reaches out to his arm and he turns to you with a small smile.
“It’ll be fine, I’ll figure something out, but I might as well make the most out of my time here.” With the auction now over he rises from his seat and approaches one of the museum's patrons with an outreached hand. “Mr. Roth, good to see you, you’ll be attending the final night of the exhibit I hope, and who is this with you...”
While Namjoon continues to make pleasantries and exchange business cards you keep your eye on the sketches watching as they are rolled behind the desk and packed away in crates. You approach the area where one of the clerks is recording and distributing the information for the now rightful owners, with a mob of bidders descending on him for their newly purchased items so they might leave as soon as possible.
It would seem that this business too is feeling the crunch of Christmas. A flurry of paperwork is exchanged in haste passing from one hand to the next, until one signed receipt of purchase escapes his notice and falls to the ground in front of you. Picking it up you wait for the crowd to clear, giving the clerk a chance to recover before you approach with the lost sheet, setting it on the desk before him. His confused gaze soon changes to outright shock over his loss when he realizes what you’ve returned.
He thanks you profusely, causing you wonder how much strife he would have encountered had you not been there to return it. “No problem, you look like you have a lot on your plate.” You smile politely, attempting to soothe your fellow casualty of the Christmas rush. “I just have a question for you though, if that’s okay?”
“Not at all how can I help?” He agrees, his stance far more relaxed than it was with the horde a few moments before.
“My friend, he was hoping to get in contact with the purchaser of those sketches there, on behalf of a museum. I don’t suppose there’s any way we could get a hold of them, is there?”
“I’m sorry but not at liberty to divulge that ma’am.” Your rising hope falls, you knew it would be a long shot but you didn’t want to leave without trying. “However... if there’s a phone number or information regarding the museum’s interest I can include that in the paperwork to send off along with the purchase.”
“Really? You would do that?”
When the clerk confirms, you immediately turn on your heel and take a step in Namjoon’s direction before bumping into his solid chest, not realizing that he had already come to find you.
“What are you doing-”
“Getting you that miracle.” You grab one of his business cards from his hand, and turn back around to give it to the clerk who tucks it into the envelope along with the other documentation. “Thank you.” You smile at the clerk who returns the gesture.
“And you said I have a dangerous smile?” Namjoon mutters as he leads you away with a chuckle. “What did he say exactly?”
“That he would include it with the paperwork for the sale. I just hope they will reach out and call you.”
“Me too.” Namjoon smiles, but it doesn't quite appear to reach his eyes. “Shall we head out. I think I’m done here.”
The drive home is rather quiet, the weight of Namjoon’s gloom hanging in the air and he makes no attempt to hide it.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just trying to figure out where to go from here,” he groans. “Those sketches were going to be the start of something new for me. I know the buyer might still come through but I’m not going to hold my breath. I need to keep searching for what comes next, I’m just a little lost, but I’ll find my path again soon.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Sometimes it is, sometimes life will drop it right in front of me and other times I will have to search for it, but that’s a problem for after the holidays.” Namjoon looks out his window at the lights which start to come alive as you drive home. “Are you ready for the big day?”
“Christmas?” You give a nervous laugh, “No, I haven’t even put up any decorations.”
“Why not?!” Namjoon asks in alarm.
“Just haven’t really felt the need this year. There’s no one there to enjoy them but myself.”
“Which makes it all the more important to put them up.” Namjoon sits up in his seat, his whole persona changing. “I could help you if you’d like?”
You wince over the quandary. With your decorations sitting in your living room under an inch of dust it might arouse some confusion, and his heart would likely sink if he knew how long they actually rested there for. “I’m not sure I’m quite ready for it yet. Maybe another time?”
...
-1.5 Weeks Until Christmas-
Work continues to degrade as the countdown progresses. The only thing getting you through the shifts is the thought of Namjoon’s help at the stand. But as soon as Christmas is over, you wonder if your friendship will go the same way as the festive season, cast aside like the wrapping of the gifts you tended to in the weeks prior.
After a few days of busy shifts you’re both thankful to make it to another close. But when you are packing up the station Namjoon’s phone starts to ring. He looks down in confusion at the number without a contact attached. “Do you mind?”
“No, not at all.”
He grins as he answers the phone pacing further back into the vacant shop space and away from the sounds of the echoing mall. You continue to count off the deposit, and roll the wrapping paper. Trying your best not to listen, to give Namjoon his privacy, however you can’t help but notice the happiness in his tone, spotting his dimples from across the room when you sneak a glance. When you grab to move the last box of bows Namjoon ends his call. Tears glisten in the corners of his eyes accompanied by the widest smile you’ve ever seen from him.
“That was- that was the buyer.” He explains as he comes to help you with the final box, taking it from your hands and placing it on the back shelf. “He wants to meet with me this weekend.”
He’s so close, vibrating with an overwhelming delight. His arms move around you as though he is about to pull you in for a gracious hug. You start to congratulate him as he embraces you, “Really?! That’s gre-” only to be cut off when his lips come for yours instead. Once the shock evaporates, you start to appreciate the heat of the moment, the warmth of his skin, the softness of his mouth. Your hands reach up to his toned shoulders and neck pulling him down, diminishing the space between you. Breathing him in like this with your eyes closed, nothing else matters in the moment, nothing other than his firm chest pushing back against yours, his hands on your waist gripping at your shirt.
With a deep sigh and a bite to his own lip he pulls back. “Sorry I just-”
“Don’t, don’t apologize.” You cut him off this time.
“I can’t even begin to thank you.”
“I hardly did anything.” You laugh at the extremeness of his appreciation, though a small part of you dies when you realize his kiss was nothing more than a gesture of gratitude.
“That’s not true...” He responds, giving you his wide eyes and a shy smile.
On the drive home your companion can barely contain his delight, breaking into random smiles and laughter as he informs his coworkers of the success via text.
“There’s this event...” Namjoon starts, as you pull in front of his home. “At the museum on the twenty-third, a week from today, I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.”
“Next Wednesday? But we have a shift at the wrapping station.”
“I spoke to Emma a few days ago and she agreed to cover if we both wanted to go.”
“Emma, making a change so close to Christmas? I don’t buy it. What did you offer her in return?” You ask with a critical gaze. The woman runs such a tight schedule, only something great or important would have prompted her to agree.
“My next year of service.” Namjoon confesses, he looks down at his feet as though he might buckle from the embarrassment.
“Next year? You already promised to work it?”
“If you want me there that is. I’ll practice more in the meantime, I promise I won’t leave you to all of the difficult packages.” Namjoon chuckles. “But what do you say, will you go with me?”
“Ye-yeah I would love it’s just...” You stutter trying to come up with a good excuse but your brain draws a blank leaving only the truth. “I don’t know how well... how well I’ll fit in there.”
“What? No, why would you think that?” Namjoon places his hand on your leg while you drive. A move which causes the both of you to pause in reaction and him to retreat. “Trust me when I say you belong there more than anyone else.”
You nod your head and give him a small smile, wishing more than anything his hand would return. “I’ll come if you want me there. What’s the attire?”
“Semi-formal, and don’t worry about driving I’ll pick you up.”
...
-2 Days Until Christmas-
You stand in front of your mirror, wearing a dress which fits your shape perfectly, but stretches your pocket book significantly. The price tags hanging down from the zipper taunt you, tempting you to rip them away, to commit to the indulgence. Even if it’s only for a night, the payoff in the end might be worth the overpriced lace. You give in with a snip of the scissors and a swallow of guilt, letting the printed cardstock hit your bedroom floor.
You’ve spent the past couple of hours leading up to this moment in a fit of stress cleaning, disposing of the dust bunnies. Now at least if Namjoon comes over after... you won’t be completely off guard.
The phone on your bedside vibrates with a new message.
KNJ: Just pulling in.
YN: Be right down.
Sliding your shoes on and grabbing what you need, you leave your empty apartment with a growing smile on your face. The moment you can see the car from the buildings foyer both Namjoon and the driver exit the vehicle, though Namjoon is quick to wave the driver back to his seat, choosing instead to hold the door for you himself.
The thoughtful gesture is made more appealing as if it gives you a full view of your date in his dark three piece suit, his hair tamed back framing his handsome face, whose gaze appears to be giving you the once over for you too.
“You wrap up nice.” Namjoon jokes.
“Of course, I couldn’t embarrass you now could I? Have to land that first impression.”
“You would never. Besides I’m sure my colleagues will be fascinated to know who has enough courage to teach me how to wrap.”
“And how do you plan on introducing me to those colleagues of yours? As your date or your teacher?” You laugh.
“I was actually hoping I could introduce you as my girlfriend.”
“Your girlfriend for tonight?” You panic, not expecting this development. “Wait, is this one of those fake dating scenarios? Did you tell them you had one and then-”
“I think we’ve been watching too much Hallmark.” Namjoon laughs and shakes his head. “No this is not one of those scenarios, but I’ll take whatever form of companionship you are the most comfortable with.”
He gives you the stare of a man who is looking for more, but you know he won't need you once the holidays pass. His loneliness is temporary, yours is permanent. You’d rather not get your hopes up only to have them lost as he fades away in the cold gloom of January when his family returns. “Let’s see where it goes.”
Upon arrival Namjoon leads you through the massive doors by hand, taking your coat and checking it. The main hall just off the entrance is filled with patrons and staff all mingling and drinking while dining on tiny hors d’oeuvres. You look at the crowd with apprehension.
Namjoon’s fingers interlace with yours again, a grip clearly intended to give you confidence. “I’ll introduce you to some of the staff first.”
Several people congratulate Namjoon on the exhibit as he passes, he responds giving them a brief thank you as he ushers you through the crowd. Stopping at a small group of two, who greet Namjoon with a warm welcome.
“Thank god you’re here, people have kept asking for the brains behind the exhibit.”
“And why didn’t you answer them.” Namjoon smiles before turning to introduce you to them, following up with the man who just spoke. “This is Eric Nam, a curator who I worked on the project with.”
“Don’t pass the torch, we both know it was your idea, I just helped put it into motion.” His coworker smiles gazing at you. “And you must be the one Namjoon has talked so much about.”
The heat rises to your face as you look to Namjoon who confirms the statement with his own embarrassment. “Thank you Eric for sharing that with her...”
“No problem, it’s the least I could do for someone who gave you the insp-”
Namjoon coughs and shakes his head, cutting off his verbose friend.
You're about to question your partner himself when the other colleague of his starts asking you questions. “What do you do for a living Ms....” You remind her of your name while Namjoon spotting refreshments wanders off with a whispered promise to get you both a drink.
“I-I work for Interlude Shipping, in their tracking department.” You explain clasping your hands together in an attempt to settle your nerves.
“Oh, how nice...” The false quaintness in her tone is matched with a smirk as she takes a sip of wine. “Maybe you can help me find out if my sister’s present will arrive in time tomorrow.”
“Valerie...” Eric growls.
“What? I’m merely curious about her employment.” She smirks at him before continuing to her inquisition. “How long have you worked there? Did you have to get a degree for your role?”
“No,” This is exactly what you were afraid of coming here, you just didn’t think the judgement would be coming from someone who works with Namjoon. “I started there right after high school. I didn’t have the luxury to go to an elite school to work in a place like this.”
Eric comes over and claps you on the back. “Neither did Valerie; she just has family on the board.” Giving a coy smile to his coworker who scowls and stalks off without another word to you. “In fact you’ve actually done more work here than her in the past month. I hear you’ve been helping Namjoon secure the collection we’ve been after?”
You nod looking off after the departed curator, worried as to what impact your interaction could have with Namjoon’s position here.
“Don’t worry about her. She’s just bitter that Namjoon didn’t ask her to accompany him here.”
“Oh, does she- do they-”
“Fuck no, but if she’s not everyone’s first choice she’s not happy.” Eric gets in a little closer. “You don’t have to worry about Namjoon looking elsewhere, if he’s at all hesitant it’s just because he’s a little cautious with you.”
“Why would he be cautious?”
“Why would who be cautious?” Namjoon asks, handing you a drink as he appears by your side again.
“Mr. Roth, that man should be careful. I heard he had hip surgery recently.” Eric responds, cutting in with a lie to cover your discussion. “It's good of him to still join us tonight, but enough about that, why don’t you go show her the exhibit before it gets too crowded in there?”
Namjoon offers up his arm in agreement. “I suppose we can get started on the tour, if you’d like.”
“Yes please,” You answer, threading your arm through his. “Thanks again Eric, it was nice meeting you.”
“You too, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”
The stand next to the entrance bears all the names of those involved in the creation and a countless list of those who loaned out pieces to make it possible. “There’s so many involved, how large is this exhibit?”
“Not too big, you’ll see why there’s such a long list soon.”
When the door opens you find yourself in a hallway amidst what you can only describe as a snowstorm. The walkway, made to look like an alley set adrift in snow, with flickering lights and paper creations hanging from the ceiling. “Did you make any of those?” You ask, grinning as you squint through the flurrying beams.
“No, I left those to the talents of the students who came by on school field trips. It didn’t take them long before we had enough.”
“Find any new prodigies?”
“Several.” He answers, before pointing to the mounted photos on the wall. “But these works here are some of my favourites.” The pictures are framed to seem as though the viewer is looking in through the pains of a window to happy holiday scenes. From unwrapping presents around the tree to the busy crowds of your very own mall, each image sets out to draw from you a sense of nostalgia.
“I can see why.” You find yourself lingering on the last of the photos by an accredited local photographer, savouring the display as much as you can, worried that it might end too soon.
“Don’t worry,” Namjoon whispers, taking your hand in an eager urge to press on, “There’s plenty more to look at.” He points to the end of the hallway, where you find another door, though this one is dressed with a knocker and wreath looking as if it’s the entrance to someone's home.
You open the door to reveal a series of rooms connected by one long hallway. The first you step into you washes over you with warmth and comfort, the sound of a cracking fire surrounds you while the light of fake embers flows from the side. Set up through the room are tables of items from old to new ranging from Christmas tree ornaments, and household decorations to handwritten cards. “All of these-”
“Were loaned by families from the region, they gave a piece of their history and traditions up for most of the season so everyone could enjoy it. Over here we have...”
You could spend hours sitting and admiring in this room alone, but more than anything you want to push on more to see Namjoon’s excitement in sharing it with you. Each room features a different spot of the home. A chilly shed with vintage toboggans and sleds, a kitchen, stuffed with cookbooks and the smells of baking featuring countless cookie cutters of every shape and size.
The next room is a little unusual and different from the rest, throwing you off for a moment, when the distinct scent of pine hits your nose. In the centre you find what look to be the replication of a massive trunk, and above false branches twinkling with lights. All round in a circle you find toys in glass cases spanning generations, when it hits you. “Are we under the Christmas tree?”
Namjoon gives you his coveted dimpled grin. “Yeah, do you like it?”
“I do. I can’t believe you managed all of this.” You exclaim hurrying between each display like a kid on Christmas morning. From wagons, and Rubik’s cubes, all the way to Furbies and gaming systems he has the whole collection of popular toys throughout the years.
Namjoon beams with pride once you’ve circled the entirety of the fake trunk and the presents beneath it. “Only one room left, but I think you’ll like this one the most.”
You're ushered into the next, a dimly lit space, a bed with a quilted cover stands in the centre, and on the walls you find countless story books, pinned open to so their stunning art is on display, papering the room with climatic holiday scenes and loveable characters. In one you find Scrooge meeting the ghost of Christmas past, in another you witness the Grinch save the sleigh from a perilous fall. Namjoon was right, this is without a doubt your favourite. While people filter in and out, you take your time looking at each set of pages. Your pace slow and steady, until you reach the special story that stops you entirely, the book you lost long ago, and have been trying to find ever since. Drawn on the pages before you is a little blue koala, with a pale purple nose, round ears, and a smile that lights up his face as he cuts out dozens of snowflakes. Namjoon stands behind you with a hand on your shoulder as you gaze at the book you know to be titled ‘Koya’s Christmas.’
You take a deep breath, while trying not to bend to the tears that threaten to break from your eyes. Focusing your attention instead to seek out the owner of the book, but unlike most there is no nameplate attached to this desirable artifact. “Namjoon, who loaned this? Is there any way I could contact them?”
When he gives you a sad smile, your gut clenches over the possibility that this might be a similar issue to what happened at the auction, a lender who wishes to remain anonymous. The only difference here being that you’ll fight Namjoon for the information if you have to. You’ve already let this book escape from you last year, you refuse to let it happen again. “Please, I’ll-” Just when you are about to plead with Namjoon’s integrity, another memory of your past walks into the room, but this one unfortunately has more tragic ties. “Shit,” you whisper, shifting to put your date between you and the newcomer.
Namjoon catching the change in your expression immediately reaches out in concern. “What? What’s wrong?”
“There's someone I know just over there,” You nod in the direction behind Namjoon. “I’d like to avoid him if I can. Sorry, it-it’s complicated. ”
Namjoon puts his hands on your shoulders, eyeing a path the closest exit without letting go of you. “Do you want to leave?”
“If that’s okay?” And just when you thought you were free, when you were ready to make a break for the door. The man in question, spots you and calls out your name.
You turn to face him, trying your best to keep your tone even and your lips pulled into a smile. “Jackson? Hey, it’s good to see you.”
“It’s been so long, not since...” Thankful he stops, not dragging up the subject you wish to avoid.
Namjoon moves closer, moving his arm from your shoulder around your waist, a comforting and protective gesture. “Dr. Wang... I had no idea the two of you were acquainted.”
“You know him?” You ask Namjoon, your concern rocketing over what else your date might become privy to.
“Dr. Wang was the phone bidder. I invited him here tonight to see the work we do.”
“The exhibit was impressive, I can’t wait to see what you have planned next.” Jackson confirms.
“I should go and let the two of you discuss-” You ready to step away when Namjoon’s hand grabs yours and Jackson calls your name again.
“No reason for you to leave, we should catch up.”
“May-maybe later?” You plead with him fighting back the tears, pushing down the memories his presence drags up. “Sorry I just, I need to go.”
You pull your hand free and race to the exit.
“Wait.” You can hear Namjoon call behind you. Though you continue to proceed out the exhibit and towards the closest exit outside, breaking into the cold evening air, only to find that he still followed. “Let me call for the car and we can go together.”
You stop in realization that your running will not deter him, he’ll pursue you unless you give him a reason otherwise. “No you should stay, this is your big event, I won’t ruin it for you.”
“Not without you.”
“Please Namjoon,” you beg, adamant that he return. “I don’t belong in there, I don’t fit in and I never will. Even when I try...” The ghosts of your past have a way of finding you and destroying your facade.
“I’ve told you before you belong in there more than anyone else-”
“That’s not true. I can barely keep myself together. I can’t, I can’t go back in, I'm sorry.”
“I don’t understand, what does Dr. Wang have to do with it? Did he hurt you? Did he-”
“No! No, he did nothing of the sort. Jackson was always very kind to me. Don’t let me affect your plans or any arrangement, you should go back and talk to him, I just can't be there.”
“You think I’m going to just drop you for him, especially when he makes you so uncomfortable? No, I’m leaving with you.”
“Fuck, just... please listen to me. He is a good man, he’s a good doctor, you would be foolish to give up this chance.”
“A good doctor...” Namjoon pauses as a grimace hits his face. “Does he have something to do with your mother?”
“How-How do you know about that?”
“I didn’t mean to pry, I swear. It's just, when I was first talking to Emma about you, out of concern she opened up about your past... about your mother, about your loss.”
“She told you?” Aunt Emma, you should have known she would do something like that, god forbid at least one person not know your history. “Then all of this, these past few weeks were they all out of pity?” You should have known, there was no way he would like someone like you. It was all out of sorrow for what you’ve been through.
“Not pity no, I like you, I like you a lot. When Emma said you were pushing her and so many others away... I concealed it out of fear of losing you too. I wanted you to open up about it until you were ready. I was just trying to help you get through this.”
You look up at the museum, drawing a distressing connection between Namjoon’s daily life and you. “Why? You think I’m some abandoned project you rescued from a deceased’s estate? One for you to mend, and later show like an achievement? You should have just left me where I was, instead of breaking me further.”
Namjoon’s hands immediately pull back from you. “I never meant to hurt you. Only help you move on, you can’t deny that you are frozen in place. You have so much more potential, but you're living in denial.”
“I live there because it hurts less...” You snap back in fury, as he exposes your painful flaws. “I live there so I can work, so I can help others.”
“But what about you? When will you let someone help you?”
You step away unable to answer his question, turning your back on him you race to the sidewalk to hail a nearby taxi, refusing to let him see a single tear fall.
Once home, you crawl into bed after throwing the dress to the floor. This was so far from the evening you had hoped it to be, with you instead left alone to ruminate on Namjoon’s words. Despising all the evidence he laid bare against you, turning it over again and again in your mind until your morning alarm startles you out of your stupor. Signalling for the last shift before your break for the holidays.
...
-Christmas Eve-
It’s finally here, the worst of all days at the call centre. With your eyes heavy from a lack of rest you take a seat at your desk with an extra large coffee in hand. On your computer you have this morning's team email pulled up, and attached to it a list of de-escalation tactics. You’ll need them today because if people don’t get their package by the end of the routes this evening, there’s no hope for tomorrow morning.
The call board on your phone is already lighting up like a Christmas tree, but you know those little embers to be fuelled by wrath, fury and unkept promises of delivery dates.
You try your best to remain calm during the egregious conversations. Offering up tips and tricks to parents who are worried that this will be the year that their child gives up on Santa because your company failed to deliver.
Your lunch break can’t come soon enough. But when you finally check your own phone it’s littered with texts from Namjoon. Messages of concern, apologies, and the hopes that he will still see you at the wrapping station tonight. He even sent a picture of your abandoned coat and promised to bring it along.
Fuck, you had completely forgotten about you wrapping shift together. Just one more night, then you can put it all behind you again. If you can just keep your cover for a few more hours then it’ll all be over and Aunt Emma will have what she was promised.
You send Namjoon a quick message confirming that you will be there, but not promising any more before you head back to your desk.
The calls get progressively worse with several people using foul language and demanding to speak to your supervisor, you try to talk them down as best you can knowing any call passed on to the higher ups will reflect poorly on your efforts.
Until one woman calling in search of her package finally wears you down, insulting you, your profession, even your family.
“Ma’am I’m sorry but if you continue to speak to be in such a way I am well within my right to disconnect the call.” A desperate bluff, your superiors would rather them end the call than you, you’ve been penalized for it before, and you’ll be damned if it happens again. But unfortunately she calls your hand.
“You will not! I have spent hours on the line trying to reach anyone. The shortsightedness of your company and staff is all too apparent.”
“It’s the holiday sea-”
“I know what time of year it is, but it seems your staff doesn’t realize Christmas is tomorrow!”
“You ordered your package past the guarantee date, we could not insure-”
“Now you listen to me, if there was any form of intelligence in that office you’d be working hard to ensure that all packages make it out before tomorrow morning, but instead you just sit on your ass fielding phone calls and giving excuses so you don’t have to actually go out and do honest labour. You must be the biggest disappointment to your family, not even having a proper job. How can you go home and face them knowing you've left so many without their gifts?”
With the woman's last insult, something inside you finally snaps, giving you the freedom to do what you’ve dreamed of for so long. “I don’t,” you pronounce, building up to take your final shot at both her and your employment. “Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to let you go, as I’d rather not listen to your nonsensical bitching. So merry fucking Christmas to you ma’am, I suggest you go spend it with your own family if they’re willing to put up with your pompous ass.” You hang up the phone and pull off the headset, refusing to answer the next blinking light that comes on to replace it.
You just sit there looking at it denying the next caller their chance at verbal abuse, and your company's lax policy to protect you from it. The chatter of apologies continue to echo around you as your coworkers press on, but after the years of abuse you can no longer hold it in. Your company always said that this position was a stepping stone to greater things, that opportunities would come you just had to wait a little longer, but after being shackled by circumstances, and no forthcoming higher step to take, you refuse to press on any longer.
...
You pull into the mall parking lot, far too early for your slot at the wrapping stand, with the contents of your desk now stationed in the trunk of your car. Taking refuge in the women's bathroom cleaning your face of the tears you shed on the way over as you try not to think too much about what you’ve just done. After refusing to concede and admit to any wrong doing you quit, telling them to shove their shitty policies right back where they came from.
Namjoon was right... and with the mall closing early tonight you’ll only have two hours with him, two hours to smooth the tension over and allow for an amicable goodbye while maintaining your cover.
He’s already waiting for you, with your coat in hand, when you show up. The look of pity that you never wanted to see grace his face directed at you. “Are you okay?”
“Fine... I just would prefer if we didn’t talk about last night. I’m sorry for what I said, and now I just want to let it all go if that’s okay with you?” You smile up at him extending the olive branch.
Namjoon nods looking down at the floor as his hands habitually fold a scrap piece between his fingers. The silence between you is drowned out by the carols echoing down the emptying halls of the mall.
“Didn’t expect it to be so slow.” Namjoon mutters after what seems like an age with no one coming to the stand.
“On Christmas eve? Yeah generally people are home by now, spending time with their-” You force yourself to stop, unable to say a word which will bring sorrow to your heart and loneliness to Namjoon’s.
“I’m sorry I can’t do this,” Namjoon interjects. “I want to talk about last night, I need to talk about it.”
“Now is not the time.”
“There’s no one here but you and me. It’s just us, the mall is closing, it's our last shift, if not now when?”
“Anytime but now. The last twenty-four hours have been the worst in my life since-since...” You take a deep breath burying the wave of sadness and regret back down in your chest refusing to let it out. “Please, just forget it okay?”
“Not until you stop shielding yourself like that.” Namjoon scolds you. “I’m tired of you living in fear that your tears will erode your cover, and that your anger will tear it away entirely. I’m tired of you thinking that people will only appreciate you if you maintain this perfectly wrapped state. You might think it’s pretty, that it’s convenient for everyone else, but you are only keeping others out.”
“Maybe I keep it on so that you won’t be disappointed in what you find when it’s discarded. A sad woman, with no direction, no dreams, unable to cope with loss, and I suppose I can add unemployed to the list now. Is that what you want to see? Is that what you want to find?”
“That’s not all you are... and as for your job, I’m sorry but fuck it. It’s about time you moved on to better things, that place was only holding you back, you deserve so much more.”
“No I don’t, do you want to know why I worked there? Do you? I took that job to make sure she got the care she needed. I promised her when she got better I would quit and find something else, but she never did. But if I leave now I’m accepting the fact that she’s gone... that she doesn’t need me anymore, because I couldn’t do enough to keep her here.” The first tear falls breaking through the long standing divide.
“Staying there wouldn’t have brought her back. Tormenting yourself by remaining frozen in place, won’t bring her back. It’s Christmas for god sake and you are being kind to everyone else but yourself.”
“This isn’t Christmas for me. If it was, she would be here... not you. I’m tired too. I'm so tired of looking at her chair and- and-”
Namjoon wraps his arms around you pulling you forward as your emotions tear through the shroud. He moves you to the back of the vacant store sitting you among the boxes. “I’ll be right back okay?” You nod, while he tugs the table in and drags the gate down to indicate that you are now closed. When he returns his eyes too are starting to redden. His hands brush through your hair, the side of his palm pressing on your cheek and catching your tears. After seeing one of his own fall you crush yourself against his chest, clinging harder to him than before. His lips touch the top of your head, his hands rubbing on your back and arms as he waits, waits for you to be the first to pull away. The lights for every other store shut off around you the music lowers, all that’s left is the retreating chatter of those going to celebrate the eve of Christmas, and still you hold on to him.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been a very good substitute.” He whispers, encouraging you to finally lean back and admit your denial, accepting his efforts to help, when you yourself wanted to do the same for him.
“Don’t say that, it was never going to be a happy holiday for me, just something I needed to get past. But for you, I at least wanted to make yours better, I’m sorry I wasn’t a very good one either.”
“You never were a substitute. You were the one I wanted to spend the holidays with. A different Christmas than usual but no less enjoyable.”
“That’s sweet of you to say.” You smile, but you doubt it’s true. “I suppose we should go...”
“What about all the supplies?”
“Emma will come by in a few days to collect it all.” You grab the small donation from the lock box and seal it in the plastic pouch, while Namjoon rummages through his own bag. “Do you still want a ride home?”
“If you're offering, I would love one.” The flap of his satchel closes as he stops his search and instead goes with you to the bank and finally your car. You hadn’t checked the forecast for tonight so finding your car buried in a few inches of snow comes as an unexpected sight. At least with Namjoon’s help cleaning it off is a quick task.
Once inside you both warm your hands on the sputtering heater, changing them on the wheel as you continue to thaw your fingers while you drive.
“Do you have any plans for the next couple of days?” Namjoon presses, though hesitant in his tone.
“Maybe look for some jobs, and take a good long nap?” You answer with a dark chuckle, still preferring to miss the entire holiday if you could. “You?”
“No, nothing in mind. But if you wake up and want to come over, you're more than welcome to spend it at my place.”
You return both hands to the wheel as the road becomes more difficult to drive on, your tires slipping here and there on the ice beneath the snow. “I’ll think about it, though depending on how much snow we get tonight we might both be stranded at home.”
You pull through the neighbourhood gates and up Namjoon’s driveway. With the car stopped he once again dives into his leather bag and pulls out a thin rectangular gift he looks to have wrapped himself. Dressed as per usual, with far to many pieces of tape, he hands it over to you. “I know this won’t make up for everything, but I want you to have this. Consider it a very belated Christmas gift.”
“Belated? But Christmas isn’t until tomorr-” You take the present and succeed in pulling back the wrapping to reveal the book that you were reunited with just the night before. “Oh...” You look up from the cover to find the return of the sad smile on his face you saw in the museum. “But if this is late then, last Christmas, it-it was you? You were the one at the stand... with this?”
...
-One Year Ago-
You are counting down the hours and minutes until the mall closes, until you can pick your mother up from her doctor's appointment and head home, to your promised tradition of putting up the decorations. The past few weeks have been so busy, with work, volunteer shifts, and her treatments at the hospital, you’ve made it all the way to Christmas eve with the tree and ornaments still packed away in boxes, sitting in the corner of your living room since December first.
Aunt Emma is currently taking your mother’s position at the cashbox, thanks to the scheduling of the last minute check up. You light up your phone again checking the time, only an hour left.
“You can head out if you want my love,” Aunt Emma offers while swaying and humming to the carols. “It’s quiet enough for me to manage myself.”
You grin embarrassed by your desire for a hasty departure. “No it’s fine. I’m still waiting for the phone call to say she’s done, otherwise I’ll just end up waiting at the hospital.”
“Suit yourself.” She stands up to look down the halls of the mall. “Oh, I think we might have someone, he’s heading this way. He’s cute too, you should give him your number and put that mother of yours at ease.”
“Aunt Emma, I don’t need your dating-” You look in the direction she was speaking of losing the rest of your words when you find a tall beaming man coming closer to your station.
“If you need me I’ll just be in the back fetching more ribbon.”
“But we have plenty.”
“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” She waves herself off when he makes it to your table.
“Hi,” He greets you with the warmest smile and an even tone. “I was wondering if I could get these wrapped together?” He holds up a bag of gifts which he hands over to you.
“Of course. Any preference on paper?”
“Whatever you think is best, it’s for my mom. Just a bottle of her favourite perfume and something a little more special.”
You open the bag to find a small box containing the fragrance, and the other what looks to be a kids picture book. But what initially seems to be an odd choice for his mother, slams your chest with nostalgia when you see the cover and read the title.
“Koya’s Christmas.” You laugh with delight, you can’t stop yourself from smiling when you examine the artistry. The memories it brings back is enough to make your eyes well with tears.
“You know it?” The man asks, looking pleasantly stunned.
“Know it? I had it memorized as a child. I loved it so much I couldn't bear it when it was packed away at the end of Christmas each year.”
“Me neither, I flat out refused to let it go, I read it year round to the point where our old copy is currently falling apart on the shelf. Even made snowflakes to put in my windows like he did.”
“That’s right, that scene was one of my favourites. May I?” You gesture asking him for permission to look through it. He nods just as excited as you by the concept of something so sentimental. As you flip through the book you recall the beautiful storyline of a koala living in Australia, one who is so upset that they must celebrate Christmas in the summer, never getting to have a while Christmas described in the songs and shown in the movies. But once Koya talks to the leaves in the trees, and the other small animals of the forest, the realization hits that none of them would be able to stay there if it was cold enough for snow.
You are so close to tears when you reach the page where the little koala realizes it’s more important to have friends for the holiday than the frozen flurries. Proceeding to stay up all night cutting out perfect snowflakes to hang in the windows for all to enjoy at the family's Christmas Eve party.
“Where did you find a copy? I’ve looked for so long, I lost my own in the move here.”
“I actually found it by chance, amongst a bunch of rare second-hand books at an auction.” The man itches at the back of his head. “Sorry, I can’t be of more help in locating another.”
“No it’s fine. I’m just glad I got to see it again. I’ll have to tell my own mom that I was lucky enough to see a copy, she loved it as much as I did.”
You quickly wrap the two gifts in the one sheet as requested. Handing it back to him before you can be tempted enough to make an excessive offer of your own on his mothers gift.
“Thanks again.” He hands you two twenties for the donation. “My mom usually helps me with the wrapping but I didn’t want her to see this, you’ve made her Christmas.”
“I’m glad I could help.”
When he walks off you notice that he makes several glances back to you, holding a smile each time.
“So did you get his number?” Aunt Emma pokes her head back out from the stock area. “Maybe his social media, his dick-dock or whatever it is you kids do these days?”
“No, I did not get his tiktok.” You answer, unable to contain your laughter. “I was distracted by-” You’re ready to defend yourself when your phone starts vibrating on the table, the screen lit up with the number of your mother’s doctor’s office. You answer it, excited to share your account of the book. “Hey mom, you all finished? You’ll never believe what I just wrapped-”
“Sorry dear this is Laurie, I’m just calling on behalf of Dr. Wang’s office. We were hoping you could come by as soon as you can, the doctor would like to meet with both you and your mother before she leaves for the day.”
“Y-yeah, I’ll be right down.” You hang up the phone taking a deep swallow of fear, the moment of happiness and nostalgia vanishing with the prospect of the news to come. It’s never been a good sign when they’ve wanted to meet with you both in person.
Aunt Emma catches on in an instant, pushing your coat on your shoulders and your purse in your hand. “Go, I’ve got this. You give your mother a big hug for me, and I’ll stop by soon to see you.”
...
While you try to relive, to pull back and hold on to, that moment from a year ago, Namjoon nods confirming your suspicions.
You mentally kick yourself for not recognizing him, for not remembering a single thing about him except your connection with the book. But after everything you had gone through, in that night alone, the devastating news regarding your mothers health had blacked out everything else. You took her home that night, trying not to cry, trying to be strong for her. Helping her into bed for some much needed rest, leaving your previous plans boxed up in the corner... where they remain to this very day. And the year only got worse leaving your mind engaged elsewhere, far from the man with the kind smile and similar taste in literature. “I’m sorry, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you sooner.”
“No, it’s fine, it was a while ago, and I’m the one who should be sorry,” He whispers. “The moment I stepped outside that day, I realized you needed it more than my mother needed a second. I went back, but you were already gone. I was selfish though, rather than leaving it with another, I wanted to be the one to give it to you myself, I wanted to see you, to talk to you again, and so I kept it. I even put it in the exhibit on the chance that you might find it. When I met Emma at the museum and found out that you’d be doing the fundraiser again it seems like fate, but then I heard about what had happened since I saw you last. I realized how foolish I had been, how I had stolen your chance to share it with her before she passed.”
You reach up to your face attempting to wipe away the tears before Namjoon can see anymore, but he catches your hands before you can hide your grief.
“When you saw the book that day, you have no idea the impact it had on me. Watching you react, your emotions so close to the surface. You didn’t care where you were, what you were doing, all you could see was the memory in front of you. I wanted to create that for everyone.”
“Then the museum exhibit-”
“Was a result of my meeting you, my breakthrough idea which got me a chance to curate was thanks to your reaction. I was going to tell you when we were there, why you deserved to be there more than anyone else, but everything fell apart so quickly.”
“I’m so sorry, I never intended to ruin your night. I just-” You take a deep breath, finally letting out the words you’ve been holding back. “I was scared. Jackson was one of my mother’s doctors, he was always friendly and kind to the point where my mother would joke that he would make the perfect son-in-law. We even went on a date, but when she passed... it was difficult, painful for me to see him again. Finding him there last night, I was so worried you would learn about what had happened, and that you would look at me with the same pity he did, so I ran.”
“You didn’t ruin it, I deserved what you said for not being more open with you about what I knew. I was scared of losing you. So no more running, no more hiding okay?”
You give him a nod, unable to speak through the tears as you gasp between sobs. He hugs you across the cars divide. “Now will you please come inside? At least for a bit. It’s Christmas Eve and I can’t let you go home like this. I have the snowflakes up and everything but we both know it’s not enough without someone else to see them with.”
You shake your head, now laughing despite the tears, “You really know how to reel me in.”
“I’m just admitting that I don’t want to be alone on Christmas,” He looks at you with a raised brow. “And I don’t think you want to be either.”
...
Namjoon’s house is the very opposite of your apartment, filled with warmth and light, wooden furniture and plants in every corner. The Christmas decorations bring another layer of himself into the fold. As promised, his window pains are full of snowflakes and the sills... you squint at several small blue lumps perched beside the glass. Moving closer you recognize them as clay koalas made by the skill and hands of a much younger age. Namjoon catches you staring at one position in a dozing state. He takes it off the ledge and hands it to you to give a better look.
“Careful with that one though,” He points to another figure stationed in the corner. “It’s ears like to fall off.” He rolls the round bit of clay out of position chuckling as it exhibits the trait.
“Did you make these?”
“When I was a kid. My mom held on to them.” Namjoon muses as he continues to fidget with the figurine. “She dropped off a box of decorations before going off to be with my sister and her family.”
“I’m glad she did.”
“Me too. But even with all the trimmings and decor here this year doesn’t feel quite normal.” He replaces them both in their rightful positions of honour and gestures to the massive couch behind you. “Make yourself comfortable,” he insists, before wandering off to the joint kitchen. “Is there anything I can get you to drink?”
“I’ll have whatever you're having.” You take a seat on the monstrous cushions, which ease you in before swallowing you in comfort. Making it easy to see how this beast of a sofa has eaten several of his several earbuds.
“Beer okay?”
“Perfect.”
He comes round with the drinks and takes a seat beside you. Turning on the television he lets it play with low volume in the background so you might continue your conversation if you wished, but at the same time eases the pressure from you if you’d rather not.
You smile down at your beverage as the overly dramatic film plays out. Your mind still lingering on the damage that you might have caused with your hasty departure the night before.
“Have you talked to Jackson since, is he still going to loan the sketches?”
“He wants to, he sent me an email today saying so...” Namjoon pauses taking a sip of his drink, swirling the contents around in the can. “He asked if you were okay too. I haven’t responded yet, I wanted to talk to you first and get the full story, rather than speak on your behalf. But it’s clear he has feelings for you, if you told him how you felt, I’m sure you could still work things out if you wanted to.”
“No, I don’t think it’s feelings but his concern. He’s just too good of a person not to worry, and I’m sure his own guilt has a place in there too. Jackson and I never would have worked out, we went on that date, we didn’t have much in common, there was nothing there that I wanted to pursue, not like my time with you.”
Namjoon’s eyes perk open as he smiles. His arm reaches around, pulling you in to lean on his side and shoulder. As the strained plot plays out before you.
“Why do you insist on watching these.” You ask as your eyes become heavy after a few minutes. Leaning into Namjoon more he lays back putting his feet up and sliding you down with him to do the same. Your head now resting on his chest the deepness of his voice carrying down to your ear.
“They’re like the snowflakes-”
“A paper thin plot full of holes?”
“Funny and true, but not what I meant. I know they are by no means real, but they have this way of adding to the feeling of the season. I didn’t realize how much of a tradition it has become for me and my family until this year, when watching them alone just felt wrong. The movies were an excuse to sit down with them, to talk and laugh. The other night when I called, it wasn’t that I couldn’t sleep, I just wanted to spend the time with you.”
“But why me? You could have anyone, even Valerie seems to-”
“Why would I want anyone else when you helped me achieve something I’ve long dreamed of? You may think this cheesy but at the end of all these films, when everything comes together wrapped in a perfect bow, that’s how I’ve felt in every moment with you.”
“You’re right, very cheesy, but not unwanted.” You look up at him from his chest finding only sincerity in his face. “Now if we’re to continue in this similar Hallmark course of action, I do believe this would be the part where you kiss me again.”
“But I’m just the clumsy lead,” Namjoon jokes. “I’m pretty sure that’s your-” You lean in doing just that, cutting him off and pushing him against the couch as you kiss him. His chest quaking with silent laughter soon turns to rumbling groans as you fulfil the expectation of your role. “Though this would also be the part where I tell you we should wait before giving into temptation.”
Your nose scrunches up in displeasure over the notion of such abstinence. “Then let's omit that line, and go off script for the rest of the night.”
Namjoon takes his turn, flipping you over to push you down onto the plush cushions, where you sink under his weight. “Gladly,” he growls, his mouth trailing down your neck pulling on the collar of your sweater to seek further in.
Desiring the same you discard your own knit garment, before moving on to unfasten the buttons of his shirt, pushing it back until he is forced to tear his hands from the sleeves himself and whip it down to the ground.
Sliding between your thighs he wraps your legs around his back and picks you up off the couch. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he continues to kiss you while you squeal from being lifted into the air.
“Bedroom?” You ask, excited by the possible prospect.
He nods, looking up at you with a smirk. “If that’s okay? I’d rather not risk losing you to the couch too.”
You giggle at the notion, while Namjoon heaves you up again to get a better grasp, his mouth tucking into your chest. He fumbles for the door now behind you looking as though he might break it open if the knob won’t turn to his grappling grip. You reach back to assist and push it open. The cool air of the room hits you, causing you to cling to Namjoon’s warmth.
With two more steps you’re lowered onto the bed, where he grips the waist of your pants, unbuttoning and tearing them down your legs. Laying on the edge of the mattress, you watch as Namjoon kneels down between your legs. His hands glide up your bare legs and pause at the tops of your thighs massaging them as he asks to go further. “May I?”
You take his fingers and press them down on the dampening fabric. Namjoon groans and dips the tip of his index below the material peeking inside to find the warmth of your cunt. It’s a pity it’s so dark in the room, you would have liked to see his smile.
But it seems you're not alone in this desire, as Namjoon gets up and reaches over flicking on the lamp beside his bed. “No more hiding, I want to see you, all of you.”
“I want that too. I want you.”
He smiles kissing you with both hands before rolling over and pulling you on top of him. You return the favour by taking off his pants and boxer briefs releasing his erection. Running your fingers down the soft skin of his shaft, curling them around the base. Tilting his cock towards your mouth you take the tip, teasing your tongue on the rim of the head. Namjoon groans in delight, thrusting his hips up, you take it again as far as you can manage, enjoying his reactions to your tongue trails downward, tracing the swelling veins of his dick. With another drag of his cock you release him with the pop of your lips and he reaches down to grip your arms, breathing heavily with closed eyes.
“I thought you said you wanted to see me?” You chuckle at his undoing.
“I do, but I also want to last.”
“Condoms?” You ask, continuing to stroke his cock while you adjust to straddle his thighs.
“In there.” He mutters, pointing to his bedside table breathless and helpless to your touch. Only looking up when you have to free him to reach for the box and unwrap its contents. His own hands help you to roll it down his shaft.
You guide yourself down on his cock while Namjoon arches against his pillow and mattress. His fingers tracing up your stomach and ribs. You reach back to unclasp your bra just as he reaches your chest, and lean down into his touch.
With his firm grip you rock your hips clenching on his dick and grinding your clit on his pelvis. The louder he gets the faster you move, trembling as you chase your own high and pivoting down further. When Namjoon’s hands grip your hips pressing you into him the pressure becomes far too great pushing you over the edge, sending waves of pleasure through you until you collapse on his chest. He holds you in place as he thrusts from beneath, gasping as your climax continues, coaxing you to clench down on him, straining his thrusts until he comes.
Dotting the side of your face and neck with his lips at a soft and slow pace, he succeeds in forging another smile in your still gasping lips. He tilts you off and beside him in your blissful haze so he may dispose of the filled barrier. When returning to your grasp you cling to him and he you, dragging the covers up and over the both of you.
“I could get used to this.” You whisper, curling into his warmth. No longer afraid of the emotions that the holiday will bring. Glowing over the prospect of not facing Christmas morning alone, but wrapped together with Namjoon in the sheets of his bed. “Maybe even consider it a new tradition?” You joke with him looking up to witness his smile.
“If that’s a tradition...” Namjoon whispers, coming in for another kiss. “I plan on celebrating Christmas everyday for the foreseeable future.”
#bts smut#namjoon smut#namjoon x reader#kim namjoon#bts x reader#rm#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts christmas au#bts angst#bts fluff#bts wrapped together
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Maybe Jotaro, Risotto, Prosciutto, Bruno and Leone friendship HCs with a fem friend thats llike your generic dumbass but they are just like a soft dumbass, she is just too cute to get mad at no matter how stupid she is. So basically a smol sweet dumbass that just radiate baby energy. Like she just runs up to them saying she want to show them something cool and its just a pretty rock but she looks so happy xjsbkss 💖
Pure of heart, dumb of ass fem!friend with Jotaro, Risotto, Prosciutto, Bruno and Abbacchio HC’s
sfw // fem reader
lemme just say, reader is baby and that’s valid 🥰this is so adorably pure ugh ya done killed me anon 🥺💖✨(can very much relate tho, glad my friends put up with my dumb antics)
Jotaro:
“Why am I friends with you again? Yare yare...” A phrase you’ll hear every time you’re hanging out with this tall bastard. He’ll tease you for being a bit of a dumbass but is incredibly drawn to how kind, sweet and absolutely thoughtful you are.
You remind him of Josuke and Okuyasu which only makes him like you even more. And the added cuteness-factor made him admit to himself he does indeed love cute things, no matter how adamantly he denies it to you.
His favourite thing to do is bring you along to the beach for field research, knowing just how wide eyed and giddy you get when you’re allowed to collect shells and rocks or even poke a jellyfish. You seem very good at spotting irregularities in your surroundings, making quite the good assistant to Dr. Kujo.
You’re even allowed to help with lab research, studying petri dishes filled with algae as you excitedly point out a very important detail he hadn’t noticed yet, too tired from working such long hours. Sometimes you’re quite the genius without even trying.
More than anything he loves the amount of lightness you bring to his life, his studies and general headspace take a large toll on him. Any relief is a welcome one.
He’ll often find himself smiling at the thought of hanging out again, staring at the collection of trinkets he keeps in a cute little Hello Kitty box you once gave him, which rests on his nightstand as a reminder that it can’t hurt to adapt your lifestyle of mindless giddy; even just the tiniest bit.
Risotto:
Being close friends with Risotto seems a bit impossible without being in his squad, he’s very insistent at keeping outsiders of Passione more than an arm-length away. Good thing that the stoic man is your capo, phew!
He’s apprehensive at first, not really sure why the soft round pebble you brought him reminded you of the man as he studied the mineral, admiring its softness. “It’s like you! Soft and worn down, but very sturdy and unbreakable.” smiling sweetly at him, excitedly awaiting a response.
What was this new feeling of being appreciated and cared for? Risotto’s never really experienced a friendship so pure. He’ll quietly thank you for the pebble and keeps it on his desk, staring in awe as he’s reminded of your kind words every time he spots it.
He knows the others like to tease you for not always being aware of general human knowledge, shooting them an intense glare as a warning to keep any rude comments or jokes to themselves.
Your friendship consists of him mostly listening to you, quietly taking in all the stories you divulge- so full of excitement, telling him facts you picked up somewhere; the source of these often containing varying levels of credibility. He won’t correct you though. (unless it’s something that might actually endanger you)
He values your friendship so.much. He’s not used to being treated so kindly, receiving random gifts, being praised for a job well done, having someone who doesn’t judge him in the slightest. He’ll do whatever he needs to keep you safe, from others and yourself, along with trying to return your kindness and care. (he tries his best and it’s so cute)
(you guys hold hands for safety when you’re out in the city... just saying, it’s adorable)
Prosciutto:
Prosciutto has a chronic case of “caring older brother disease”. Will need to hold himself back from tying your shoelaces for you, the man knows you can do it it yourself but it’s just taking sooo long.
Just like Risotto, you’d have to be a team member to get close to him in any way. Good thing he recruited you ;)
It’s a bit hard to make him open up about anything personal. You feel like he knows everything about you, while you barely know a thing. When he sees your pouty lip and begging gaze that is way too cute to deny, he’ll cave. Perhaps finally realising it’s alright to lean on others.
He’ll still struggle with continuing the openness, but find relief in your loyalty and understanding. The way you intently listen to his troubles, there to hold his hand if he ever needs it, it makes his heart hurt to know how sweet and gentle you are.
Will keep you and Pesci separate during missions, he’s already getting a migraine from imaging everything that could go wrong without his guidance.
For someone who’s a little more on the dense side, you make up for it in emotional intelligence. Whenever you see how stressed he tends to get, eye twitching without even realising while his shoulders hunch together in discomfort, you come over to hug him. It’s something he had to get used to, the small gesture always calming him down enough to keep going.
Does not appreciate you slipping cute trinkets in his suit pocket. Especially not after finding a snail that one time. You’ve been forbidden from leaving pocket gifts since the incident.
Bruno:
It concerns Bruno just how clueless you can be from time to time. That one time they almost left you behind on a busy station with no cellphone because you found a coin on the ground made him realise you need some extra supervision.
He’s not the type to hold you back from doing things that are guaranteed to result in disaster (unless it’s literally deadly), he wants you to experience the consequences of your own actions.
You do make him hold back his laughter when you try out a stupid idea you know has failed in the past, but change your methods slightly to hope for better results. And you know what? Now he’s curious too.
The man has a weird sense of humour that sometimes even surprises you. He’ll copy your habit of picking up strange trinkets or rocks and asks you to compare findings with him. Like trading marbles, he’ll barter with a smirk.
“Mhh, if you give me that cute shell and that pointy rock... I’ll give you this keychain.” His alluring offer making you question if you’re getting swindled or not. “Hey! That shell is at least worth two stickers!” He’ll heartily laugh at your reply, a mischievous smile while thinking over the trade. “Ok, two stickers and a pebble then.”
With a firm handshake the deal goes through. The rest of the gang never knows how to respond, staring in amazement as their grown-ass capo barters with their grown-ass teammate. He loves being silly with you and forgetting all the pressures of life for just a moment.
Bruno takes his time opening up to you, but finds your presence so comforting it becomes very easy to trust you. As a vital part of his team he finds it important to be able to lean on each other for support and is glad you offer him just as much trust and loyalty.
Abbacchio:
Will never admit he can’t live without you anymore. You’ve become the shining beacon of assumed happiness the man never thought existed. He knows you won’t always be go-lucky and have your own troubles and struggles but admires how you handle them.
Don’t get me wrong, he’ll still gladly tease you for your occasional (well, more like frequent) stupidity. He’ll let you know with a big huff you should smarten up; “Read a book that doesn’t have pictures in it for once.”
He’ll be the first to correct any wrong info you’ve been given, unless he thinks it’s funny. Like when Mista made you believe you needed to order dessert at Libeccio or they’ll kick you out for breaking their beloved rule. It’s only when he saw the panic in your eyes when you finished your main course one day -too full for any sweets to come- that he assured you it was a dumb joke. (he’ll put all the blame on Mista)
Abbacchio seems to tether to people who have a positive influence on him without even realising, it won’t be obvious to him, but just like with his loyalty and admiration for Bruno, he’ll make sure you know it once he finds out.
Not that it’s a bad thing, his need to cling to anything that might help him stay afloat just needs to stay healthy. You didn’t even realise your effect on him, you were too busy trying to figure out a way to turn that scowl into that smirk.
After gifting him a handmade friendship bracelet that had the shortened versions of your names spelled on it, he hugged you. So tightly it was suffocating, you were shocked since he’s never been the touchy type. “Leone! I can’t breathe...” He’ll let go after the complaint but that look on his face will never leave your memory. The face of being loved unconditionally by choice, no matter how unworthy he might think himself of it.
#cozy request#physical affection from friends? it's more likely than u think#jjba x reader#jotaro x reader#risotto x reader#prosciutto x reader#bruno x reader#abbacchio x reader#jjba headcanons#jjba imagines#jotaro kujo#risotto nero#prosciutto#bruno bucciarati#leone abbacchio
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An MC Who Treats The Brothers Like a Kindergarten Teacher
Okay, so I know I still have requests. I will get back to them right after this, but I just saw a post that gave me this idea and I had had had to get it out!! Requests will be back after this! Thank you MRS. Green Apple (my favorite band ever) and their song Present for this fun little romp of mine. 🤭
Lucifer
He is so conflicted on this it makes him wish he drank more…
On the one hand, he HATES how patronizing they can be… but even he can't deny how much progress they’ve made in his brothers. Mammon especially.
They're all actually studying more, cleaning up after themselves, doing their chores, and being polite… it's… admittedly he having an existential crisis...
This is what he's been missing this whole time?? Sticker charts?! And come on, they're all on the Student Council for Hell's sake! How could the most powerful beings in the Devildom be won over so easily by the same tactics used on human schoolchildren!?! Have some dignity!!
For the first month he just watched them whip his brothers into shape in barely concealed horror. It was so surreal...
But at about the time the MC managed to get Mammon and Levi to stop fighting and apologize for being mean to each other, he threw in the towel. Whether he liked them or not, he conceded that the human was a blessing in disguise and left most of the discipline to them from then on.
He's never been more productive in his life and he can actually get a night or two of good sleep with no interruptions... He's taken the MC out to lunch on multiple occasions and is still trying to talk Diavolo into letting them make this a permanent arrangement. They may actually get his brothers to become well-behaved demons yet...!
Mammon
Okay so, don't get it twisted. He doesn't need their stickers, or their love, or their approval, or all that positive reinforcement or anything! He's just playing along with them okay?? Okay?!
He scoffed at the whole thing at first because, look, he's no child. He's a grown-ass demon! What were little stickers of Devildom currency supposed to do for him??
But when they told him a completed chart would earn him a shopping spree outta their pocket… Well now they were talking.
He just did it at first for the big prize, but every time he finished a task the MC would be sure to notice how hard he worked and tell him he did a good job or compliment him somehow and… well… he doesn't get that a lot...
After a while he kind of forgot about filling out the chart because he would be excited to run to them and tell them what good thing he did next. Turns out this boy was starving for any kind of approval. 😖
The first time he actually finished his chart they told him how proud they were and he almost cried... Almost. He ain't that soft, okay??
Though he does mess up still, he probably makes the most progress of the House, much to everyone's disbelief. He's also super protective of his stickers and HATES when they're taken away so none of y'all better drag him into your problems, ya hear??
Leviathan
He feels like this normie is weird even for human standards… Why do they keep offering him stickers…?
Well… They are Ruri-chan themed so he's not complaining that much.
He's not even sure where they got them from… He thought he had a pulse on every bit of merch that comes out for his favorite characters so they must had those custom ordered and that's dedication.
They told him that they'd get him a new game for every finished chart, which was nice but not necessary, he kind of just liked getting more little pictures of Ruri-chan like the collector he is. 😌
After a while, the MC started subtly theming his tasks more toward getting out of his room and being more productive... In baby steps, of course.
He'd be scared, but they were always there to praise him any time he tried. With a little bit of time, he actually started getting more confident! I mean, not a lot but hey. It's improvement.
The human even managed to get Mammon to pay him back a little bit of the money he’s owed! Well, it was literally just one night's paycheck from Hell's Kitchen but it was still more than he's seen in three centuries so he'll take it! He goes to them whenever he needs to butter up Mammon now... They’re an excellent go-between.
Satan
Ah… So the MC is well-versed in psychological manipulation… Well he refuses to fall for it.
They could offer him all the stickers they wanted, he’s going to just fall in line like his brothers! He didn't need any psychological training from them, even as the youngest he’s centuries older than they are!
But wait… are those stickers cat themed…? And is that one in a little cowboy hat??
… Touché human. He'll play nice once or twice but he doesn't need their cute stickers!
A part of him got a lot of joy out of watching Lucifer finally admit that this living nursery rhyme of a being was better at controlling his brothers than he was… Talk about a slice of humble pie, he even got it all on camera… 😏
But his brother wasn't wrong... The House has never been cleaner and everyone's grades were up, even his own. As odd as it was to say, bringing the human to the Devildom seemed to have produced a net positive all around. 🤷♀️
And after he discovered that the MC convinced Lucifer to let him volunteer at a human world animal shelter each time he completed a chart… Move over, Beel. He's going to finish the most charts in the House now. Just you wait.
Asmodeus
Oh honey, he knows a thing or two about punishment and reward systems. It's going to take some pretty nice prizes for him to play this game...
Which is why his stickers get followed up by kisses.
For each new sticker, he gets to pick a spot to kiss them or for them to kiss him (though they don't let him get too pervy with it)
Finish the dishes? Get a kiss on the hand. Two hour of studying? There's one for the cheek. And so on.
The others get jealous of his deal pretty quickly and start asking for kisses too but he'll throw a fit if he ever finds out. The human's kisses are HIS prize so everyone else will just have to live with it! 😠
Asmo, drama-hog that he is, is also the biggest snitch in the House. He loooves telling the MC about when his brothers mess up and should lose stickers, Mammon especially because it make him sooo pissed.
He's also in a betting war with Satan over how many days it’ll take Belphie to actually get up and do his chores for a change... The current wager is two weeks or more.
Beelzebub
Thought it was a little weird that the human seemed so obsessed with praising him and calling him a good boy but whatever.
(Little did he know they were subtly using him like a role model of everybody else but that's neither here nor there 🤷♀️)
He doesn't mind the sticker thing because he gets them so easily. The theme seems to be: be responsible, helpful, and not a jerk which he passes with flying colors so it’s really not a challenge for him.
It was only after they told him that they'd take him out to Hell's Kitchen with each completed chart that he really got serious about it...
If you think normal Beel is sweet, actually trying to be sweet Beel is practically an angel all over again. He even stopped stealing food from other people's plates when the MC told him he could lose stickers for it… (which means that Levi can start eating breakfast for a change, at least. 🤷♀️)
He's long since completed five charts and is well into his sixth. It doesn't matter what it is, if food is on the line then Beel will knock it out of the park every time. If Lucifer wasn't funding their sticker project, then he honestly would have bankrupted the MC a long time ago… 😅… 😟… 😥...
Belphegor
What the-? Did he leave his brothers for a few months and they all formed a cult or something?? Why is everyone suddenly so obsessed with stickers???
He doesn't understand the appeal at all... Do chores around the house and get a prize? What kind of game were they trying to play here?? No thanks. He'll pass.
Belphie proved pretty hard to motivate, even with prizes, so the MC had to try a different tactic…
If there's anything that can motivate Belphie, it's the promise of good sleep and cuddles. But if they made it too difficult to get and he'd just sleep by himself in pouty defiance...
So they told him that he needs to get at least two or three stickers every few days or they'll stop cuddling completely until he does.
He didn't think they were serious at first… but any time he'd try to get his arms around them, they'd sidestep or slip out of the way like they had a sixth sense or something! What kind of superhuman reflexes do you need to keep up with human anklebiters???
It took a week for him to finally relent and join the freaky sticker cult that makes up the rest of his family... He remains self-aware enough to always point out how fucking bizarre it all is... but hey. He's too lazy to do much about it, so who cares right? 🤷♀️
Check out my Masterlist for more!
#obey me#obey me shall we date#shall-we-date-obey-me#obey me headcanons#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me belphegor#obey me beelzebub#obey me asmodeus#it just needed to happen#i have weird ideas sometimes
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