#fluffcember 2024

Day 01: Roasted Marshmallows

Day 02: Winter Flu

Day 03: Snow Man

Day 04: Christmas Sweater

Day 05: Northern Lights

Day 06: Gingerbread House

Day 07: Condensed Breath

Day 08: Sparkling Snow

Day 09: Sugar Rush

Day 10: Carols

Day 11: Slippery

Day 12: Skiing

Day 13: Fire and Ice

Day 14: Winter Soup

Day 15: Naughty List

Day 16: Chocolate

Day 17: Snowed in

Day 18: Mistletoe

Day 19: Fondue

Day 20: Fairy Tales

Day 21: Cabin in the Snow

Day 22: Winter Storm

Day 23: Confessions

Day 24: Christmas Tree

Day 25: The Perfect Gift

Day 26: Forgiveness

Day 27: Family Gathering

Day 28: Cold Turkey

Day 29: Mint

Day 30: Warming Up

Day 31: Fireworks

Alternatives:

Hot Bath

Fallen Through The Ice

Holiday Decoration

Homecooked Meals

Not many people know what to do when there's a strange man in their kitchen. The usual ports of call, according to life and TV, is to:

a. Scream

b. Call the cops

c. Hide

d. All of the above

But somehow you created your own special fifth option (hereby referred to as option e): Give him soup.

He pokes at the soup with his spoon and you watch him over your own bowl. You can't tell if he's about to burst into tears or dart off into the night. There's something about his eyes, something that tells you he's a lost, stray in need of food and probably a hot bath rather than a six foot lug of a man in tac gear.

After a particularly hot slurp of soup, doing the whole hoo-ha-ooh charade, he looks up at you.

"Sorry," You mumble with an apologetic look. "Hot."

He nods but doesn't say anything. So, he clearly understands English. You watch as he stirs his soup again before finally bringing it to his lips. The air is heavy. You don't know why you care about what he thinks of your soup, but you do.

You want to make a joke; asking him not to kill you if it's awful but you think better of it. You still don't know if he would kill you.

His hum catches you off guard and you jump, looking over at him. His eyes flutter, and you think he definitely will cry. He sniffs a few times and raises a shaky hand with a second spoonful again, before he's suddenly gorging the soup.

His spoon clatters against an empty bowl and he looks over at you worriedly and you just smile at him around your own spoon.

"Want seconds, sweetheart?" You ask gently, getting to your feet and angling yourself to the stove. You're face is blasted with the smells of basil, garlic and roasted tomato as you lift the lid from the pot. You hold out a hand for his bowl which he carefully hands to you.

Ladling the soup to the brim (thank God for Bulk Soup Sundays), you reach into the bread bin and butter two slices of bread, placing them next to his soup when you set the bowl down. Retaking your seat, attempting to finish your own bowl, you watch him curiously.

He mumbles a thank you as he tears into the bread with his teeth, and you offer a warm smile.

"No worries. Help yourself to as much as you need."

—————————————————————————

Kate was used to putting the tree up early.

She knew how you liked to get it up as early as possible—usually right at the tail end of November, or December 1st at the latest. You liked to make a whole day out of it—putting on one of your favorite Christmas movies, indulging in some spiked cocoa, and getting to work decorating every last square inch of the loft.

And Kate loved getting swept up in the cheeriness of it all. She loved the whirlwind of holiday cheer you became. It always increased her own Christmas spirit by at least a dozen.

But this year has been different.

This year, you didn’t beg her to come with you to the Christmas tree farm the very first day it opened to pick out the biggest and best tree from the selections. You didn’t break out the dozen or so Christmas headbands you bought in bulk for Lucky so he could feel included in the festivities. You didn’t chat Kate’s ear off about all the spiked drink concoctions you planned to make at the upcoming holiday party where you would inevitably play bartender. And she hadn’t caught you trying to get the decorations down from the attic by yourself, despite the heaviness of the boxes, because you were just that eager.

The only thing she’d observed was you skipping dinner. And starting to go to bed earlier and earlier every night.

Now, it was a week and a half into December, and the loft you shared with Kate was still barren of any Christmas spirit—no tree, no ornaments, no stockings on the mantle.

Kate came home to a dark apartment—the only source of light coming from the moonlight peeking through the slits of the living room blinds. Kate casts a forlorn glance toward the stairs, knowing that she was sure to find you in bed, buried beneath the covers in the same Peanuts PJs; the TV either off or on mute. The very thought made her heart sink.

She sighs as she kicks off her boots and pairs them beside the front door. She continues toward the stairs in socked feet, turning over in her head what she was going to say when she saw you; with the knowledge that there’s a good chance you hadn’t moved since she left that morning. And knowing you might not have eaten either.

The sight of you is only slightly different than what she’d pictured in her head. You were in bed under the covers, but you were sitting with your back against the headboard rather than lying down. And you wore one of Kate’s hoodies over your PJs, which she assumes you’d donned soon after she left.

“Hi baby,” Kate says gently as she crosses the room to stand beside the bed. She reaches out to carefully remove the hood, watching your little stray strands sprout up all over your head. “You been here all day?” She asks, smoothing your hair down for you as she speaks.

You nod, your gaze focusing on the space between the TV and in the window wall. Kate tries to lock your gaze as she moves to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. “Can I get you anything, baby?” She asks, massaging your thigh over the material of the comforter. “Some water? Tea? Maybe some hot chocolate?”

You give your head a small shake. “I’m not that thirsty,”

“Well…why don’t I make you something? I’m sort of in the mood to have breakfast for dinner. What about you?” Kate tries again.

You shrug. “I’m not hungry,”

Kate’s shoulders deflate. She tries again to catch your gaze, but you’re still looking past her at the wall.

She looks down at the comforter, tracing miscellaneous patterns into the material as she tries to think of what she could say to you. Anything she could say to you to help you feel better.

About a minute and a half of silence goes by before you finally bring your gaze toward Kate. “I’m sorry,” you say.

“Hmm?” Kate looks up at you.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. “I know this mood I’m in isn’t ideal,”

Kate’s brows furrow, but before she can weigh in, you continue to speak. “I know it’s Christmastime and I should be happy, and I should be covering every last inch of the loft in decor, and getting drunk on homemade holiday cocktails, and taking Lucky to see Christmas lights. Hell, our tree should’ve gone up over a week ago. I know. But I just can’t do it. I feel…I feel like I’m in water up to my neck, and I just don’t know what to do, or how to make it go away…” your voice catches and your eyes fill, and Kate tuts as she pulls you into her embrace.

“Hey, hey, stop that,” she coos and she holds you close, massaging your back. “I don’t give a damn about a tree or a couple of decorations right now. I care about you, and how you’re feeling. Don’t invalidate yourself like that, it’s perfectly normal to feel like this. It’s not fair, but it’s normal. And I don’t want you to beat yourself up, okay?”

You nod then sniffle, adjusting so you can tuck your head into Kate’s neck.

“Whatever you need, baby, I’m here,” Kate says, caressing your back in gentle circles and squeezing you tightly. “You just say the word,”

You cling to Kate tighter, mumbling a ‘thank you’ into her neck. You think for a moment and then add, “I think I just need to be held,”

Kate doesn’t miss a beat. “Then that’s exactly what I’ll do,”

She shifts so that her back is to the headboard, and she pulls you down to rest your head on her chest. And that’s how you stay for the next few hours—just Kate running her fingers through your hair, telling you how much she loves you, and you slowly being lulled to sleep with the combination of Kate’s gentle touch and an old Charlie Brown holiday special on the TV.

When you wake up, it’s morning; indicated by the soft light peeking through your bedroom curtains. The lack of a warm body beside you spells out Kate’s absence. You sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and the first thing you register is a mini tabletop Christmas tree on the bedside table. It’s complete with tiny built-in ornaments and lights, a red base, and a star on top. Your heart warms as you look at it. And then you notice a sliver of paper on the table beside it.

You reach for it, recognizing Kate’s handwriting. ‘good morning, baby. will you meet me in the kitchen when you wake up? i love you. - Kate’

You smile and tuck the note into the pocket of your hoodie, sliding out of bed and dutifully padding down the hall to meet Kate in the kitchen.

The smell of waffles and coffee greets you, and you spot your girlfriend by the cabinets, carefully pulling down breakfast plates. You also see Lucky in his dog bed, one of the Christmas headbands you’d bought him last year perched on his head. His head pops up as he notices you standing there, his tail wagging happily, but he seems content to keep sitting right where he is. You wave at him before turning your attention back to your girlfriend.

You move to wrap your arms around her from behind, smiling as she jolts at the touch. “I saw the little tree,” you say as you push up on your toes to rest your head on her shoulder. “Thank you, baby,”

Kate smiles and turns in your arms to face you. Her arms wrap around your waist to pull you closer. “Glad it put that smile on your face,” she says. “I went out and got it while you slept. I know it’s not much, and I know it’s not a real tree or anything, but—“

“Hush,” you quiet her, leaning in to peck her on the lips. “It’s perfect,”

Kate melts when you kiss her, her forehead resting against yours. “I’m glad you think so. Because I think you’re perfect. And I’d do anything to make you happy. I know this time of year isn’t always good to you,”

“But you are,” you retort, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Kate’s ear. “You always are. And I love you so, so much, Katie,”

With that, you kiss her again tenderly, and she kisses you back, giving your waist a gentle squeeze.

After a few more kisses and a few more soft declarations of love, the two of you finally separate to dig into the breakfast Kate’s prepared.

Winter on Earth was nothing like winter on The Ark. Up in space, the seasons didn’t change. It was always the same cold, metal walls and the constant hum of recycled air. But down here, snow covered everything in a thick, glittering blanket, and the air bit at any exposed skin, leaving everyone in a constant state of shivering. 

Bellamy and I were bundled up in layers, huddled in a small abandoned cabin, that was somehow still mostly intact. It was dark and cramped, but it had a fireplace and right now that was enough to make it feel like paradise. 

“You know what you’re doing with that?” I tased as I watched him try to light a fire with some wood we managed to scavenge. 

“Have some faith. I’m not gonna let us freeze out here.” He gave me a look, smirking. 

The first finally caught, the small spark flickering to life, and warmth started to spread in a tiny circle around us. Bellamy tossed a few more small logs on the flames and sat back, smacking the soot from his hands. He looked rather pleased with himself. I scooted closer, desperate for any bit of warmth. 

“Better?” He asked, scooting close enough that our knees were touching. 

“A little.” I said, rubbing my hands together and inching even closer until our shoulders touched. Bellamy wrapped an arm around me, pulling me into his side. I rested my head against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of smoke and the faint earthy scent of the forest that clung to his jacket. The warmth of his body seeped through our layers and I felt a bit of tension slip away as the fire crackled softly. 

“It’s almost hard to believe there’s any peace here.” He said quietly. 

“Like, there’s a whole world out here that doesn’t know anything about what we’ve been through.” I nodded, resting my head against his shoulder. 

“Sometimes, I wish we could just stay in moments like this. Where it’s just us, the quiet, and nothing else.” He shifted to look at me, his face softened by the glow of the firelight. 

“Hey…” He took my hand and laced his fingers with mine. 

“We’ll find a way to have more moments like this… not just surviving but living. Together.” There was something in his voice, a promise that was unspoken but understood. Despite everything we’ve been through, he still carried this hope that we could have something better. When he looked at me that way, with such certainty in his eyes, I couldn’t help but believe him. I leaned in and kissed him, feeling his warm soft lips against mine. The chill of the room melted away as his hands gently brushed my cheek and for a moment, it really felt like we were the only two people in the world.

The tsum hadn’t been an issue while he sat in the hood of Jamil’s shirt, seemingly in-sync with Jamil as he finished his chores around the dorm. It even had its own Kalim Senses and intersected Kalim before he could create more mess for them to clean up. He hadn’t understood why Leona was so against the tsums (the responsible ones anyway). 

Then Yuu had stopped by the dorm. 

Jamil’s tsum had immediately latched onto her. She hadn’t minded, her vulnerability to anything cute making her coo non-stop over the thing. Apparently, finding out about the tsums in Heartslabyul had sent her on a massive hunt across the campus to find the rest. Jamil had watched unamused while she snuggled her cheek against the tsum’s face. 

Jamil had dismissed the behavior. It was like she was cuddling a stuffed animal. It was no reason to spark the creeping agitation that made his skin prickle. 

Until the tsum attempted to murder him. 

Jamil watched the tsum with growing distrust. The tsum glared back at him from Yuu’s shoulder. Yuu remained oblivious to their silent conflict while she carefully cut the vegetables for their stew. “Does it matter how big the pieces are? We’re just throwing them all in the same pot.” 

Jamil edged closer to look over her unoccupied shoulder. The tsum jumped to the same shoulder like it was putting itself between them. Jamil glared at it. “The potatoes should at least be small enough to fit in your mouth. The size you have now would choke a person.” 

“They could cut it smaller themself,” Yuu grumbled. She carefully chopped the mound of potatoes they had peeled into smaller chunks. “How many vegetables go into a stew anyway? I don’t remember there being celery in the last one you made.” 

That’s because there wasn’t any celery in his stew, but she had interrupted his attempts to stab the tsum with a celery stick when it had come at him with a carrot in the pantry. They had both had to cover their assassination attempts when Yuu popped her head into the door. The tsum’s choice of vegetable had just been more convenient. “It’s easier to make picky eaters eat their vegetables when they’re hidden in a tastier dish.” 

Yuu hummed and grabbed the nearest onion to start chopping. Jamil’s eyes stung even at a distance, but he refused to take his eyes off the tsum. That was how the tsum had taken the advantage earlier and nearly clocked Jamil with one of the pots hanging over the kitchen island. He subtly reached for the same pot. If he could trap the tsum inside with enough water to boil... 

“You know,” Yuu said, turning to Jamil and prompting him to casually throw the chopped vegetables into the pot. The tsum eyed him like it knew exactly what he had been thinking. “When the plush beans appeared on campus again, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it to our cooking lesson. It looks like most of them are pretty well-behaved though! We only had to pull Ace’s tsum out of a pipe in the rose maze when he thought he was going to be slick and outsmart Riddle.” 

To Jamil’s chagrin, she patted the top the tsum’s head with a smile. Though it didn’t have much for a face, the sheer smugness in the tsum’s eyes had Jamil’s fingers twitching in the direction of nearby meat mallet. “Your tsum is one of the most well-behaved ones I’ve seen! Even Trey had a hard time with his after it got hold of a toothbrush. The threat of cavities was too much for his plush bean self to handle.” 

Yuu went back to chopping vegetables, happily humming off-key. Jamil glowered at the smug tsum. The meat mallet was tempting... 

Yuu’s phone rang from the pocket of her apron. She wiped her hands down the front of the apron before grabbing it. “Shoot! I spoke too soon. Idia’s plush bean found Ignihyde’s stash of energy drinks and is on a caffeinated rampage through the dorm. I’ll be right back.” 

Yuu plucked the tsum from her shoulder and hurried out of the kitchen without taking off her apron. The tension in the kitchen thickened the moment the door swung shut. Jamil glared at the tsum and crossed his arms. “You think you’re really slick, huh? I’ve never seen someone so desperate for attention.” 

The tsum squeaked and jumped in place on the counter. Jamil hummed. “I suppose I should have seen this coming. The previous tsums showed similar personalities to the people they looked like. Why wouldn’t mine keep its abilities a close secret? That was a mistake on my part. Now, get in the pot.” 

The tsum predictably rebelled and took off down the counter. Jamil didn’t chase it. He didn’t need to. The slippery surface where he had oiled the counter while the tsum was distracted by Yuu’s cuddling sent it spiraling uncontrollably over the edge. Jamil chuckled when he heard it land in the pot he had left to catch it. “Unfortunately, you’re not quite as smart as you think you are. With Yuu gone now, I can—.” 

Jamil yelped when his foot slid out from under him. He attempted to catch himself on the counter, but his oily trap worked against him. He landed on the ground in a heap, sputtering when the air was knocked out of him. Before he had a chance to recover, he felt the weight of the tsum on his chest. It was bigger now—more the size of his head instead of his fist—and its dark pupilless eyes glared down at him from beneath its hood. One of its stubby little nubs held up a bottle of rice vinegar. 

Jamil’s eyes widened. “Don’t you dar—!” 

The tsum poured the entire bottle into Jamil’s hair. Jamil shoved a handful of diced onion into its face. By the time, Yuu returned with her apron torn and her hair askew, Jamil and the tsum had managed to shove as much offensive smelling ingredients into each other's face and hair that Jamil couldn’t even smell himself. 

From the way Yuu’s entire face wrinkled, she could smell everything. “What the...what are you two doing?” 

From where he leaned against the counter attempting to catch his breath, Jamil pointed at the tsum. “He started it!” 

The tsum bounced in protest. It looked at Yuu as pitifully as it possibly could while simultaneously hiding the jar of pickled garlic it had been flinging at Jamil. Yuu’s deadpan expression said she regretted her praises from earlier. “And here I thought I’d come back to a pot of nice stew after having stopped Idia’s caffeinated plush bean from terrorizing the entire campus. I knew you two were up to something. I just thought you’d be mature enough to keep from stabbing each other with celery.” 

Jamil bit his tongue before he could childishly accuse the tsum of purposefully sabotaging their cooking lesson. His eyes widened when Yuu stepped up to the counter. “Yuu, wait!” 

She slipped in a puddle of oil with a startled cry. Jamil held onto the edge of the counter as he slid his way to her. He slipped too when he reached her, but he was able to play it off as him kneeling to help her. “Did you hurt anything?” 

“I think I bruised my tailbone,” Yuu said. She leaned away from him when he offered his hand. “You smell like a tossed salad left in the sun for too long.” 

“What an appealing visual. Are you going to accept my help or not?” 

“I’m thinking about it.” Yuu grabbed his hand as she spoke. They slowly stood with Yuu only slipping once before regaining her footing. A hopping tsum greeted them when they were face-level with the counter again. “This could have all been avoided if you two would just say how you feel instead of trying to assassinate each other.” 

Jamil rolled his eyes. “Assassinating is a bit of a strong word.” 

“You two were literally setting up knife traps when you thought I wasn’t looking!” 

Jamil started. “You saw that?” 

“Why do you think I volunteered to chop all the vegetables instead of letting you do it? Neither of you could be trusted in the moment.” Yuu tentatively loosened her grip on the counter and attempted to take a step. She quickly grabbed the counter and glared at both Jamil and the tsum when they jumped to grab her elbow. “Now we have to waste more time cleaning up before we can make our stew.” 

Jamil refused to be shamed like a child scolded by his mother. He shot the tsum a glance, and their eyes met. They nodded in unison. Jamil pulled his magic pen from his pocket. “I’ll clean up the kitchen, and we’ll make a spicy curry instead. That will take less time.” 

The mention of curry made Yuu’s face brighten, but she continued to scold them for “not playing well together” while Jamil cleaned. The tsum joined him on the counter after he gathered all the necessary ingredients. Together they quickly whipped up a small batch of curry to win back Yuu’s favor.