It looks like they’re dropping a teaser trailer for the new Harry Potter reboot tomorrow
Just a few important and gentle reminders:
🫶🏻 DO NOT WATCH THIS FUCKING SHOW 🫶🏻
If you claim you support human rights - not just trans rights but human rights in general - yet still plan to watch this show, unfollow me. You’re a fucking hypocrite and I don’t want you following me.
Do not watch it even if you’re hate watching it, it still contributes to streaming revenue and views!
The adults in this reboot of the franchise are FULLY accountable for choosing to do this show and accepting a pay cheque over supporting a minority group. Even if they claim they support trans rights, they’re cowards and don’t actually support them at all.
The kids do NOT deserve abuse or hate, whether it’s because you’re comparing them to Dan/Rupert/Emma or because you’re boycotting due to the author’s views. They are literal CHILDREN.
Your nostalgia over a children’s series about kids going to school is NOT more important than trans people being respected and having rights. As long as JKR is still alive, she profits off of this.
And, just so you know, JKR profiting off of HP has DIRECTLY led to the disintegration of trans rights in the UK.
For example...
It follows an announcement in December that transgender members would be banned from joining.
From yestersday. This follows on from the UK supreme court ruling last year that equalities laws would be based on 'biological sex only.'
That supreme court ruling got through, not because 'everyone believes in it.' But because JKR directly payed MASSIVE amounts of money into right wing thinktanks, politicians, and TERF influencers.
Harry Potter directly funds transphobia and anti-trans laws in the UK.
She pours her money into the J.K Rowling women's fund. Meaning Harry Potter revenue directly pays for right wing transphobic pearl clutchers to take trans people to court and to stamp out the rights of trans people in the UK.
It is also hurting cis women in the UK because now we're all fucking paranoid about being 'transvestigated,' being abused in public (for 'not looking cis enough') or being denied services because some snotty billionaire decided she gets to decide who is or is not a 'woman' (based entirely on her weirdo, white, billionaire-class definition of the word.)
tags: 960 words, fantasy au, princess! reader x knight! seungcheol, angst, fluff, ambiguously happy ending
a/n: inspiration struck and I grasped the spark (pun intended). dividers by cafe kitsune.
The city was lit ablaze, the enraged cries of the people echoing through the citadel's walls. You sit there silently from the top of your tower, watching them march through the streets with their pitchforks raised high. There's no rage, no fear, only acceptance. In the end, it was your retribution for watching them suffer from the sidelines.
"Your Highness," you hear someone murmur softly behind you.
You don't even need to turn around to know who it is, to instantly recognize the only fool that would honor his duty even as the kingdom was being razed to the ground.
"Hello, Seungcheol. I imagine the people will reach the castle in about an hour. You should escape while you still can. Or maybe, take my head and put it on a pike. I'm sure they'll–"
"Your Highness!" he exclaims, not willing to hear more of your foolish thoughts. "Come with me. We can leave through the servant's gates."
"Leave where?" you scoff. Your gaze rakes over your home, watching old memories burn into ash. The stores you loved, the people you adored, now all looking at you with the same, white hot rage. "There's nowhere to go. At the very least, I'll take a final stand and accept my fate."
"You're being ridiculous," Seungcheol huffs. "The kingdom doesn't despise you, only the king. Plus, a neighboring country will accept you easily."
The flames grew even stronger outside the window, curling in the wind but never diminishing. It was ironic, how quickly the night changed. Only a week ago, you'd snuck in to watch the peasants dance around the bonfire in celebration of the successful harvest. Now, they wielded that same flame against you, most likely hoping to burn you down to the bone.
"They don't hate me, but they won't leave me alive. After all, a monarch is a monarch. And even if I do escape, there's nothing there that I care about. My kingdom, my home, all of it will be gone." The words taste like lead in your mouth, but you spit them out anyways.
"Then come with me," he begs. "Come to my old home. It's far from the main city, a place where nowhere will look."
You turn to gaze at him, and you finally realize the state he's in. His hair is messy, his armor thrown on as if he didn't have a second to spare. But the part that truly shocks you is the fresh gash on his arm, blood trickling down from the wound.
"Seungcheol! What happened?" you fret, eyes glancing around the room for some sort of bandage or treatment.
"Nothing. Simply took a bit of effort to reach your room," he admits. "But I'm fine."
You look at him with anger and worry, unsure of which emotion is prevailing at the moment. He talks about his wounds as if they're a trivial matter, something insignificant in front of you when in reality it's the other way around. "Saving me isn't worth your life, Seungcheol. Not when you have so much to live for."
"Maybe I do," he says. "But none of that will have any meaning if I let you perish here."
He drops down on one knee, his eyes now at your level where you're sitting on the floor. His gaze is filled with adoration and care, and a part of you wishes that this scene could unfold differently. Where instead of a city lit ablaze, you were at a place where the sun shined warm. Where he wasn't suited in his armor and wounded, but instead in a pristine suit brought from the old tailor's shop and straitened with care. Where instead of pulling out his sword and laying it in front of you, he held out a ring to you instead. But such dreams were not befitting of a princess, and so you squash them out as fast as you could.
"You're my queen," he tells you softly.
"I'm a princess," you correct, even though you know the title won't last much longer.
"I never said you were a queen. I said you were my queen," he professes. "I'll follow you to the bitter end, and far beyond. Even if the whole world is nothing but ashes, even if everyone stands against you, my sword will always fight for your honor."
You can feel the tears blooming in your eyes, but you hold them back as you pull yourself to your feet. You pick up his sword, nicked and damaged from protecting you countless times, and you rest the tip of the blade on his shoulder.
"In that case, I will knight you again. Not as a princess, not as a future ruler, but as me. The girl that you've been protecting for the last ten years, as foolish as she is. Do you accept?" You can feel your breath shaking, the silent fear of his refusal striking your heart.
"I do, now and forevermore." There's not a drop of hesitation in his voice, and your knees almost buckle in relief.
"Well then, take me to your home," you say. "Show me that there is something worth living for beyond the flames."
He looks up at you again, the same adoration in his gaze, but now laced with something more intimate. You know what it is. You've always known, but so has he. It was an ill kept secret between the two of you, hinted at through quick glances and brushes of the fingers. But you ignore it for the moment, because first you must survive.
"I will dedicate my life to that purpose," he breathes, his voice resolute and filled with warmth. "Now come on my darling lady, let us escape in the quiet of the night."
IT'S YOU THEY'RE ALL WAITING FOR ★
── .✦ boo seungkwan as: lucky by britney spears
base ver. without magazine/plastic overlays as always!
happy boo day, everyone! i wanted to have this done last night so i could post on time, but alas. i hated it and redid most of it this morning lmfao. anyway, hope u like!! ★
💧Who: Lee Seokmin (Seventeen) x gender-neutral reader
💧What: Fluff. Established relationship.
💧Wordcount: 1.7k
💧Warnings: Reader’s gender is never specified. I know it starts like it's gonna be angst, but it's really not. Reader is just being dramatic. Profanity. Kissing.
💧Summary:
It's raining again, and all you want is Seokmin back.
Masterlist
A/N- This was originally on my old account @/whipped-for-kpop-fics, but I’ve decided to private a lot of stuff on that account and just move it over to here after some editing, where I can actually track it all properly.
It's raining again.
You can't help but think of him when it rains.
How it rained so heavily on your first date that you were both soaked by the time he had walked you home afterwards, yet he had looked so happy as he smiled at you at the door.
How whenever the rain caught you unaware when out, he'd without fail remind you of your first day with a bright, smitten smile on his face.
How the more days spent in the rain together made a mutual love and appreciation for the weather over your time as a couple.
How the first time he had said “I love you” was only a few weeks into officially being a couple, when he had insisted on pulling over on a drive back from a date to slow dance with you in the rain. Because he saw it in a movie and always wanted to do it. You could never say no to him.
How he had lit up like you had given him the keys to the universe, not just your heart, when you didn't hesitate to return the sentiment that same day, and then kissed him silly, of course.
How something about the slip of the rain against his lips on your own always made it feel more special somehow. Like even though the world was right there reminding you that it existed around you, the pair of you still only had eyes for each other.
A longing sigh leaves your chest as you follow the trail of a slow raindrop as it makes its journey down the windowpane, joining its fellow droplets to gather at the bottom until they are strong enough to overflow and fall from the sill down to the wet ground. Reunited with their fellow fallen until the sun rises and lifts them to start the cycle all over again.
“Oh, how I miss you.” It's dramatic, but it’s true. You miss him, you always do and always will. The moment he left there was already a heavy weight settling in your chest, and it has only grown heavier ever since. From the moment he stepped out of the door, all you've wanted is for him to return right to your arms where he belongs.
The moment you hear the lock of the front door disengaging, you turn with big eyes, hands balled up in the hem of your t-shirt in anticipation.
And then he steps into your home, bag of takeout in one hand and utterly dripping with rain. He looks absolutely soaked. And so, so, so fucking beautiful.
You can never get over how gorgeous this man is. This Lee Seokmin. The epitome of all of your wildest and wettest dreams rolled up into one devastatingly sweet and loving man.
You can never wrap your head around it; why of all the people in the world, he chose you. But the love you hold bright in your eyes whenever you look at him has always shone just as strongly in his own eyes when they land on you.
And today is no different, he looks up from putting the bag on the side table near the door without stepping off the entrance mat, and his face lights up at the sight of you standing there.
“I missed you,” you inform simply and shuffle over.
“I only went to meet the deliveryman.” He laughs, reaching out to take your dry hand into his wet one. You hold on tight, and step closer to press a kiss to his lips. “I missed you too, my dramatic love.”
“You make me this way.”
“I'm pretty sure you were dramatic from the moment I met you. Definitely. We met in theatre club, sweetheart,” he reminds you with a bright, amused smile.
“I love that club.”
“You hated it,” he recalls with a giggle. “You said the teacher was incompetent and the other members annoying.”
“He was, and they were. But I never would've met you if it wasn't for that club.”
“Ah.” Seokmin smiles adoringly at you and cups your cheek. “You're so sweet, all for me, huh?”
“All for you.”
“Until when?”
“Until you no longer want me.”
“Then forever?”
“Forever,” you agree with a firm nod, without an ounce of hesitation in your body. For a second, an unusual look crosses his face; he looks relieved to hear that, but it passes almost immediately. It's a strange look, you think, considering you've been together for over a year, and you never fail to let each other know how in love you are on a daily basis.
“Let's go to the roof,” he suggests, reaching back to open the door behind him.
“Okay,” you chirp happily, and swap your slippers for some shoes you don't mind getting wet before you leave the apartment hand in hand and quickly make your way up to the roof of the building.
It isn't the first time you've done this; rushed up to the rooftop just to dance in the rain together, and you hope it will never be the last. That even years down the line when you're older, you'll still do this together. Like it's the first time all over again; that it always feels that way.
When Seokmin pulls you close with a gentle touch, and tilts forward to rest his forehead on yours while starting to softly sing the same song he always sings for you in these private loving moments, your heart races as if it's the first time. You hope that feeling never goes away.
As Seokmin sings in his melodic voice, romantic words he quotes to you in moments where his own words aren't quite right, the rain soaks you through down to your skin and splatters up your feet and ankles as you both glide smoothly around the rooftop.
Nothing could be better.
Except if it lasted for longer than just a few minutes.
As the last notes pass Seokmin's lips, you both naturally come to a stop, and know you will have to return home in a moment to dry off and get into fresh clothes; even if you would both happily remain blissfully pressed together sweetly in the rain while the world kept revolving around you. So long as you have him and so long as he has you, nothing else matters.
“Do you mean it?” he asks softly as he straightens up and peers down at you.
“Mean what?”
“Forever.”
There isn't a single hint of doubt in your response. “Yes.”
Seokmin bites his bottom lip gently for a second, a nervous habit, before he nods and slides his arms away from you while he takes a step back. You assume that he's getting ready to go inside, so you start to take a step, though you fall still when he reaches into his pocket, and then lowers down to his knee once his hand is back out.
It doesn’t take a genius to understand what is happening here, especially not when he looks up at you and opens the little box to reveal the ring within.
“I-” he starts, but you're already throwing yourself at him, all but tackling him to the floor. He yelps and quickly snaps the box shut as he tumbles onto his backside, his free arm wrapping around your waist to steady you both. “Sweetheart-”
“I love you, so fucking much, Seokmin,” you declare, looking at him so intently, lips trembling a little even with your smile. Seokmin is pretty sure that some of the wetness on your cheeks can be attributed to tears.
“I love you too,” he replies automatically; both of you unable to hear those words without returning the sentiment and meaning it wholeheartedly. “I guess this is a yes?” He chuckles, pulling the box between your bodies to open it back up. “I know that we don't need this to know that we're in love and mean it. I've said I want to be by your side forever and I mean it, but I would be really happy to be your husband, sweetheart.”
“Yes, of course. I would love that so much, Seokie.” You sniffle and nod rapidly. Seokmin plucks the ring from the box to slide it onto your finger. “I'll buy you one too.”
“Mm, yeah?” He beams up at you when you both look up from the new jewellery on your finger. You're pretty sure his cheeks are wet for all the same reasons as your own; rain and tears of joy blended into one shine on your skin.
“Yeah, we're both engaged, we both should have a ring,” you declare. “It's fair.”
“It is. I want a big diamond,” he jests. “Bigger than yours.”
You laugh softly and gently take his face into your hold to kiss him with all the adoration in you. However, when you lean back and take in the loving expression your brand-new fiancé has on his face, the adoration returns to full capacity. “Whatever you want, it's yours, my love.”
“What if I want to stay right here in the rain?” he suggests with a cheeky grin, clearly joking.
“I'd spend forever in the rain with you if that's what you want.”
Seokmin's expression softens out before he kisses you once more. “You really are the perfect person for me. My other half. My soulmate.”
“The love of my life.”
“For all eternity.”
“Amen.”
He laughs at your response. “We're not religious but okay, amen,” he agrees, then taps your thighs a few times in a silent sign that he wants you up. You sigh, not wanting to remove yourself from him, yet still reluctantly get up and help him to his feet. “Come on, dinner's waiting,” he says while lacing your fingers together to try and lead you back inside, but you remain in place and pull him back gently. “Baby?”
“One more dance?” you request.
Seokmin can't resist you, can never say no to you. Not that he wants to. “One more dance.”
It's the same song, the same dance you've been doing for over a year now; but you truly, with everything in you, hope that it never changes.
Forever is a long time, but forever in the rain with Seokmin sounds like the perfect way to live your life to you.
Just you, Seokmin, and the rain. Forever.
Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖
── the night you spontaneously spend with a charming stranger, drawn by a connection beyond words.
♬ i don’t understand but i luv u seventeen
tags: f!rea x soonyoung | romance
wc: 4.7k
content: meet cute, strangers to ???, humour, light angst, kissing, for the sake of plot hoshi barely speaks english
notes: kinda songfic for one of my fave svt songs ever <3 thank u for hosting this & having me once again larie ily!!! divider by hers truly @lariesographic
𝓦HEN YOU MEET HIM, IT’S SNOWING. it came tumbling from the sky in heavy waves, the cold biting your face as snow painted the street with white. squinting through the cold confetti dotting your lashes, you hurried through the sudden storm towards the glow of a nearby bar.
from the opposite end of the path, a man reaches the door first, perking his head up when he notices your approach. he lugs the door open and holds it as you dart inside. you smile at him, though you can’t tell if he returns it behind the black mask covering the lower half of his face.
you sigh once you reach the warmth inside, christmas music playing lowly under the hum of chatter from bar patrons. brushing off stray flakes clinging to your clothes, you thank the stranger, and he simply nods, unhooking the face mask from his ear with an exhale.
your own breath halts a little when you take him in. not like you could make out much outside with the snow bucketing around you, but you’re taken aback by his presence at this proximity. he’s tall, his cologne’s heady, and he’s draped in a baggy hoodie and jeans — all designer, from what you can tell. he just smells expensive.
your job’s taken you to a plethora of places and you’re never bored of the faces, but it’s not everyday a stranger gives you pause.
because he’s handsome. incredibly so.
a sharp jaw that contrasts his soft cheeks; pierced ears paired with sharp eyes. he runs a hand through his black hair, pocketing the mask into his hoodie. neither of you realise you’ve been ogling him until he furrows a brow.
“i’m sorry,” you huff a laugh. he merely waves you off, a small smile gracing his lips. if you knew him past a fleeting encounter, you’d think that maybe he’s flustered.
realising you’re both still crowding the entrance, you pivot away from the door, the stranger following your steps.
“it just came out of nowhere, right?” you start, feeling the need to fill this silence. (also because you’re itching to match a voice to the face.)
he nods again, smiling, eyes drifting over the crowded bar. you figure talking about the weather isn’t his thing.
“i mean, what were you up to when it started?” you ask.
he hums this time, like it’s an answer. his gaze drifts back to you, and you must look pretty puzzled, because his smile twitches, brows furrowing like he’s deciphering the shift in mood.
“are you from around here?”
this time he just blinks at you. that’s when it dawns on you that he must not even know what you’re saying. just doing an okay job at pretending he does.
“english?” you ask, shaking your head to indicate ‘no?’
he shakes his head in turn, slightly bowing his head like in shame.
you’d just assumed he was a local. you don’t speak the native language here, but most people you’ve encountered could communicate efficiently in english, some even with just basic words. that’s on you for drawing conclusions, you suppose.
you decide to start over. with a palm to your chest, you introduce yourself properly by saying your name.
he seems to get the idea, pointing at himself. “soonyoung.”
you try pronouncing it yourself, stammering a little as you attempt to repeat the practiced way he said it. that earns a laugh from him, eyes crinkling as his face splits in a smile.
he returns the sentiment, tossing your name around on his tongue. he licks his lips, almost like he’s testing the taste, and you turn breathless at the thought.
soonyoung uses his hands to direct your attention to an empty booth across the room. you hear the wordless question there, if you’d like to sit, and you respond with a nod, already starting towards it. you hear him jog a little behind you as if he’d been frozen for a moment.
soonyoung slides in across from you at the booth, smiling so giddily you can’t help but chuckle. you weren’t even sure how you were supposed to communicate, and he’s asked you to sit down, maybe even for a drink or two.
but you’ll bite. not like you had better ways to wait out the snow, especially not with any more adorably attractive strangers.
soonyoung pulls out his phone from his pocket, and you watch him patiently as he types away, lips parting a little in concentration. he then offers you the device, and you accept skeptically — then nearly burst out laughing once you see what’s on his screen.
Korean ⇄ English
Would you like to wait here with me?
you can’t nod enthusiastically enough, cheeks already hurting from how hard you grinned while reading the translation. soonyoung exhales a noise of relief, as if you weren’t already sitting here with him and after multiple failed attempts of conversation.
you decide to revise what you asked him before: what he’s up to around here, where he’s from.
Korean ⇄ English
I’m from Korea. I came here for work.
“same.” you sigh out loud, mindlessly.
“same.” he parrots, earning a surprised giggle from you. that seems to satisfy him, sliding back in his seat as he waits for you to hand the phone back over. what do you do for work? you type into the translator.
Korean ⇄ English
I’m in a music group.
your face lights up as you read it. you glance back up at soonyoung, and his eyes have near disappeared from how hard he’s smiling at your reaction.
“seventeen.” he says, almost a whisper like it’s a secret between you.
“the name?”
he nods, understanding that at least. you chew your lip a little as you try to recognise it, but unfortunately you come up short.
do you have any songs i’d know? you typed, giddily handing the phone back over. his fingers glide over your knuckles as he retrieves it, and neither of you flinch away from the contact. his touch leaves a buzzing feeling on your skin as you watch him read the translated sentence.
you can visibly see the cogs turning in his head before he lifts his head once again, a smirk now tugging at his lips. he half-stands from his seat, spreads his feet for a wide stance, and shields the top of his face with his palm.
“aju nice!” he exclaims before attempting to jump forward on his feet in the incredibly cramped space of the booth while maintaining that pose. he ends up travelling too quickly and knocking his crotch into the edge of the table, folding in half with a groan.
“oh my g— soon—?” you stop yourself short before you can say his name fully. it just felt a little too close for what you were; not like he noticed as he collapses into his seat, hissing as he holds his crotch.
you take his phone to type a quick i’ll be back into the translator before sliding from the booth and beelining to the bar.
you return with a glass of water for him. when he looks up at you — sliding the glass onto his side of the table, eyeing him with genuine concern — he just cracks into a laugh. you can’t help yourself to laughing too.
even after all that, you couldn’t confidently say that you recognised the song.
after one hell of an icebreaker, you and soonyoung kept a steady back-and-forth with the translator. you’ve no doubt that it diluted your original words, his too, but there wasn’t really any other options. and you both seemed just as eager as each other to keep the conversation flowing, by whatever means.
you learned little tidbits about his life, his family. he endearingly showed you his dog latte, as well as the group mates he’s currently travelling with. you learned that he’s been in the industry for a decade, that he’s here on promotions since they just released new music. you also learned that he’s got a thing for tigers, though he didn’t exactly voice that one. the phone case, wallpaper, and sheer amount of tiger photos in his gallery said enough.
he was more than eager to learn all about you too. you’d giggle whenever he’d take the phone for his turn, fingers punching away at the screen as he hurriedly typed out his questions, bouncy with excitement to read your responses.
for a conversation that was almost entirely mute, you had a lot of fun just sitting there and passing a phone between you and soonyoung. without words you’d already remembered so much — the kimchi his mother makes that he swears you must try, the hardships of being a trainee with sixteen other teen boys, the time latte pissed on his designer sneakers.
the language barrier was a mere afterthought. and you adored soonyoung. he was charming, even through letters on a screen, but also silly and sweet and thoughtful and god he was fine. whenever he brought the glass of water up for a sip, you’d lock eyes. his throat bobbing with a gulp, a smile playing at his lips. you felt a little crazier each time.
when you’d eventually typed that tonight was your last night in the country and you were leaving early next morning, soonyoung’s face had dropped when he read it.
“no!” he’d exclaimed in tiny.
“no?” you giggled.
he typed his response so quickly like someone just pissed him off. your chest tightened at how his lower lip jutted out in a pout. how you wished you had met him earlier into your days here.
Korean ⇄ English
What are you going to do tonight?
English ⇄ Korean
i was checking out the city centre and the shops before it started snowing heavily. after that, i was planning to just go home and sleep
Korean ⇄ English
Could I spend more time with you? Is that okay?
when you glance up at soonyoung from the phone screen, he’s giving you puppy eyes. you smile, nodding, trying not to let it show how your stomach fluttered. he looked like he was close to begging. not as if he’d have to — you didn’t want to end the night here either.
you cut your gaze to the window, realising that the snowfall had reduced to nothing but a gentle drift.
you look back at him again. and this time, you almost can’t hold it. he looks absolutely entranced, pupils almost swallowed in black and mouth parted with shallow breaths. he blinks, licks his lips, suddenly acutely aware that you can also see the way he’s staring at you. guess that makes you even now.
your mind scrambles for something to say to fill the silence, until you remember he won’t even understand. instead, you turn your attention back to the phone screen to type your reply (an obvious yes), though you halt as a sudden thought bubbles to the surface.
you’re convinced meeting soonyoung like this is an experience you’ll only ever have once in your life. a classic hallmark movie setup to brag to your friends about; a cute story to tell your kids one day as you reminisce on when you were a young free spirit.
so why not live in it to the fullest? why not do away with the device, and immerse yourself in just existing in each other’s presence? cherish the kind of company where words didn’t feel necessary?
English ⇄ Korean
i’d love for you to join me. i’m just thinking, why don’t we stop typing on the phone to talk? we can just enjoy each other’s company 🙂
when soonyoung reads what you’ve typed, his head snaps up, his lips forming a little ‘o’ shape as he looks at you. you smile, and that’s enough to get him on board. he flashes his teeth in a smile back, quickly typing something before holding his phone speaker to his ear.
you can only faintly hear whatever’s playing, but you can’t make out what it is. soonyoung’s brow twitches as he listens, briefly pulling the phone away to press play and listen once more.
“i like that?” he pronounces like it’s a question. you chuckle, realising he must’ve been listening to the spoken translation to repeat it.
soonyoung pockets his phone to make good on your suggestion, and you take notice of how the tips of his ears were flush with red.
eager to learn where the night will take you from this point onwards, you slip out from the booth, soonyoung quickly following suite.
he rushes to get ahead of you as you reach the door, pushing it open for you like the gentleman he was raised to be.
“thank you.” you smile.
he returns it, muttering something back that must’ve been you’re welcome in korean.
you slip your hands into your coat pockets as you start down the street — full of market stalls and displays glowing gold beneath strings of lights. holiday music hums lowly from a distant speaker. a couple sitting atop a horse drawn carriage passes by, soonyoung marvelling at the fake antlers on the horses’ heads.
the wind carries the sweet and spice of fresh food from the stalls up ahead, soonyoung making a sound of awe as he breathes the aroma in. he nudges your shoulder, helplessly grinning as he points to a child making a snow angel in the middle of the path.
you laugh together, though his comes out uncertain, seemingly lost at the sight of your smile. his throat bobs as his eyes flick down to where your hands disappear into your pockets. would it be too weird if he wanted to reach for them?
you continue walking, lingering at each stall and talking yourself out of buying any useless trinkets or candy. soonyoung hovers close by whenever your pace would slow — and what you don’t know is that he’d buy you anything in a heartbeat if he knew the words to say.
there’s one stall that gets you to a complete halt, being a hot chocolate van. you’ve got a nostalgia for them around christmas time, and when you turn to soonyoung with a face full of wonder, he knows then he’s a goner.
already he’s starting towards the ordering window before you can even question what he’s doing, holding up his pointer to the van attendant to indicate ‘one’.
the attendant types the price into an eftpos machine and turns it for soonyoung to tap. he rustles around in his front jean pocket, and you realise you knew way less about him than you thought you did when he pulls out a black card.
it’s almost funny how he taps to pay, as if this isn’t nothing but loose change to him, while you’d have to justify fitting it into your budget.
when he faces you again, you shove his shoulder playfully with a shake of your head. he just shrugs and mutters something that might be an apology.
you jab a thumb at the surrounding food stalls, raising your brows to ask if he was hungry. soonyoung’s lip quirks when he gets what you’re asking him, and he pats his belly with a shake of his head (he ate earlier).
you can only laugh at the absurdity of your situation — spending your night in a foreign country with another foreigner, communicating through charades.
it’s more than worth it though. you don’t know if you’ve ever done anything as impulsive as this, and it felt so fucking fulfilling. soonyoung made a freezing night feel warm. he made you feel free.
soonyoung holds the hot chocolate with both hands to siphon the warmth as he hands it over to you. both of your palms envelop his as you gently slide it from his hold. such a small touch felt like everything in that moment, when your bodies were the only language you shared.
you take a hefty sip to drown out the incoming butterflies, coughing on an unexpected marshmallow.
soonyoung’s there in an instant to pat your back, face dipping to yours with brows pinched in concern; but it doesn’t last long before you’re backing off. out of pure embarrassment you had forced the marshmallow down. you give him a thumbs up, and he puts his hand on his chest as he sighs in relief.
you offer the drink to him, and he eyes you skeptically, as if you didn’t almost just choke on it. you shake the cup, insisting, and he relents at that — palm sliding over your hand as he takes it, much like you did.
you can see him thinking as he stares down at the lid. he goes to pop it off, but you stop him with a hand on his shoulder, shaking your head with a smile.
you throw up an ‘ok’ sign with your hand, watching a little breathlessly as he drinks from right where your lips had been.
what do they call it again — an indirect kiss? does this count as halfway to first base?
you think the very same thing might be on his mind as he hands the hot chocolate back to you, cheeks suddenly dusted pink. it could be from the warmth of the drink, but there’s a headiness to his gaze as he licks his lips, waiting for your next move — and the drink certainly didn’t do that.
silently, you keep passing the hot chocolate back and forth, walking the moon bathed streets to the backdrop of distant music like you’re in no rush.
eventually, you arrive at the entrance to a park, alive with vibrant lights. a christmas display, it appears. you both cast a glance at one another before walking the path together in awe.
the park feels like another world entirely. every tree is wrapped in vines of fairy lights, bridges dripping with glowing ribbons that reflect off the pond, gardens bathed in soft colours from floating star lanterns and drifting projections.
arches of LEDs flicker over the winding path, leading you and soonyoung past light structures of deers and snowmen.
at some point, you run into a projection of santa, and soonyoung jumps when his signature chuckle bellows from a speaker. you hadn’t taken notice of how close you’d been, how you were mistaking the warmth of his body for your own, until he goes to take a step back and nearly sends you to the ground.
by now you’ve noticed how quick his reflexes are since he’s pulling you to stand straight before you can register his hand is on your waist, muttering something that must be asking if you’re okay.
you nod, breathless at this sudden proximity, and you know soonyoung’s just as bad when you audibly hear his own breath get stuck in his throat.
gently, you slip your own hand around your back and brush at soonyoung’s across the knuckles. he understands the question there, and quietly, his hand envelops yours.
even if you both shared a language, you know that regardless it would stay silent like this as you continued down the path. it felt like a spark might ignite where your hands are clasped together. if it wasn’t snowing, you’d probably be sweating from the heat of his skin on yours.
or maybe he feels so hot because he’s sweating.
how funny, that such a simple touch could feel this loud.
eventually, you make your way to the centre of the park, the path opening to a clearing — and in the middle is a towering tree transformed into an entire galaxy.
star-shaped LEDs hang from the branches like constellations, glowing in shades of white and deep violet. spirals of flashing lights wrap the trunk to mimic nebulae, while clusters of bulbs flicker like distant planets scattered across the leaves.
“so beautiful.” you murmur.
the sound of your soft voice is enough to steal soonyoung’s attention away from the display, though his awe increases tenfold when his eyes find yours.
he smiles in a way you can tell he’s preoccupied with thinking. but then comes his voice, his eyes never leaving yours as he tries his best to repeat what you said. except, it’s directed at you.
you point to yourself, heart fluttering in your chest. “you’re calling me beautiful?”
he nods again, ducking his head shyly, fingers tightening ever-so-slightly around yours.
he’s quick to pass the moment by as he grabs his phone out from his pocket, handing it to you with the camera open.
“selca?” he asks softly.
you giggle, understanding. “yes, we can take a selfie.”
you hold the phone out, soonyoung stepping back to stand an awkwardly polite distance away even as he’s literally still holding your hand. you use it to tug him back in, his front pressing into your back as you snap the photo.
inspecting the product, you realise it’s no good since your faces aren’t in focus. though, you do notice something in focus above your heads — something you’d been too entranced to realise you were standing underneath.
you tilt your head up, turning breathless at the sight of the illuminated mistletoe hanging above you.
you avert your eyes back down to soonyoung’s, and it’s palpable how the air shifts under the weight of the unspoken question, lingering there as if time had stopped.
up until now, even with how flustered and shy he’s been at times, you haven’t seen him look so uncertain until now. there’s a ghost of a smile just barely present on his lips, though his eyes are all wide and searching, betraying his effort to keep his face composed as he tries to decipher your expression — the only means of communication between you.
even as he’s trying to read your mind, there’s a certain glaze over his eyes now. a weight that wasn’t there before. you realise now you’d been seeing it in glimpses: when you caught him staring at you in the booth, when you let him share your hot chocolate, when he caught you by the waist before you could fall.
it was smoothed over in the next blink in those instances though, so you couldn’t let yourself believe it was anything, anything that might’ve been the way he’s staring at you now. because there’s no mistaking it — he’s channelling everything he can’t say into those brown irises.
habit wins out, and his breath hitches, mouth opening as if he’s going to say something; halting when he remembers why he hasn’t already.
frustration surges in you suddenly. you would fucking scream that it’s okay for him to kiss you, that you’re dying for him to, if you just knew the words he’d understand.
soonyoung goes to take a step back, and you realise he may be misinterpreting your silence as rejection.
in a panic, your hand rises to his face to cup his cheek, and soonyoung’s fossilised in place at the warmth of your skin on his.
softly, you brush your thumb back and forth over his cheek, face splitting into a helpless smile as you nod and nod. of course he can kiss you under the mistletoe. god, you could almost be worried about the extent of what you’d let him do. you met a mere few hours ago by chance and you’re convinced you may have completely fallen for him already.
“soonyoung.” you say again, for good measure. soonyoung, you repeat to yourself to burn it into your memory.
your name leaves him in nearly a gasp — and you’re not sure which of you it was who leaned in first, but then his lips are on yours, and nothing has ever felt more right.
the first few curious, reluctant seconds slide easily into kissing each other like you didn’t just meet tonight. by the strings of his hoodie you tug him closer, pressing your body firm against his as your mouths move with urgency.
your fingers tangle in his dark locks, his sit carefully on your waist. you’re a little more forward than he is — parting his bottom lip with your tongue and tasting the heat of his mouth.
your whole body’s on fire as his tongue slides against yours, his hold on you tightening like your bodies pressed firm together like this isn’t nearly close enough.
after what could’ve been an eternity, your lips part for a second so soonyoung can catch his breath before diving back in to you, letting a noise down your throat that sounds too much like a whine.
at that, you pull him off of you.
that got way more heated than you were prepared for. even though it’s getting late, you still shouldn’t be so careless in a public place.
after his initial surprise of you cutting the kiss off, he looks like he’s pouting over having to stop, and you can’t help but giggle. you’re bad, but he’s a whole man, so you can only imagine how much worse it is for him right now.
you sigh and step away to give him some relief, smoothing over the fabric of your clothes. he runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it back into place from the mess you made of it.
before you can think about where to go from here, the atmosphere quickly sliding into an awkward one, soonyoung’s pulling out his phone from his pocket.
though he doesn’t break his promise to you. instead, he holds it close to his face, and you’re taken aback when he starts speaking in korean.
even without comprehending the words you can still hear the sincerity in his voice — frustration, almost. an intensity behind what he’s saying.
he finishes with an exhale, handing the phone to you silently.
he’s using the translator again, though this time it’s set on interpreting spoken words into text.
Korean ⇄ English
This might sound crazy, but I really do like you. If you don’t feel this way, you don't have to listen to me. I’ll let you walk away and I won’t refuse. But if you do, I need you to know that I don’t want to let you go. I want to know you. I want to know where this is going. Our differences be damned. Language, timezones. It doesn’t matter. There’s something more important than words between us.
you could cry reading it. you can just feel how desperately he wishes to express himself to you. when you glance up at him from the screen, soonyoung looks like he’s bracing himself, his jaw ticking as he watches for your reply.
“let’s find out together.” you say to soonyoung, the phone interpreting your words. “i want to know too.”
he reads the translated sentence on the screen in record time, and in a blink his arms are flying around your waist, hoisting you off your feet in a bear hug. you shriek in the air as soonyoung presses kisses to your face wherever he can land them.
as he plants your feet back on the ground, you wonder how long he was wanting to do that with just how quickly he moved.
you don’t think about the train you’re scheduled to catch tomorrow. your job needs you more than you need it, and you may have— scratch that, you never would have got the chance to meet soonyoung ever again if you didn’t let whatever the hell this is take over all reason.
any workplace consequences scare you less than losing what might be fate itself.
maybe that’s dramatic. but it’s not like you’ll ever know if you don’t let soonyoung lead you by the hand; out of the park and back onto the snowy streets, retracing the path to his hotel room.
as you trail silently behind soonyoung’s steps, you slip your phone out from your bag and block your boss’s number for good measure.
rounding a corner, soonyoung turns back to check on you: a smile etched deep into his cheeks, eyes full of stars.
and you smile back, a silent promise that you’ll be his for more than just a fleeting night.
