✘: My muse runs into your muse while trying to buy them a Christmas present. 

Hari had the worst luck.

UNLUCKY THING 01: The one person who shouldn’t be here was actually in front of her and waving at her no less. ( She made the mistake of waving back so there was no way she could pretend she didn’t see him or didn’t recognize him. ) He definitely treated her wave as a signal to proceed forward. 

UNLUCKY THING 02: The bag the store gave her wasn’t very forgiving in terms of what it showed; in fact, the thing was as transparent as possible. The only exception was the area behind the logo. 

UNLUCKY THING 03: Had she only had one item, it’d be easier to pass it off as anything else other than his Christmas present. But she had multiple, multiple items that were all for him in that bag. 

She placed the bag behind her back nonchalantly. 

“I’m meeting a friend right now. Right at this moment. I can’t talk long. I’m sorry. I have to go now. Bye.” 

She walked backwards with one hand holding the big bag, and the other continuously waved at him. 

[my muse invites your muse to dance to Christmas songs]

“It’s terribly boring to just sit, you know. I hear people normally dance at Christmas parties.” Joy grins at the other man, who looks awkwardly back at her. “I’m Joy.” She extends her hand, as if for a handshake, and pulls him up and towards the group of people already dancing when he takes it. “Come on!”

ϟ: Our muses bake Christmas cookies together

“Um… Yixing-ssi? I’m not sure how much help I can be. I’m more likely to be in the way…” Jungsoo said quietly as he moved his wings slightly. “There’s not enough space in the kitchen for both of us. I mean, I hardly fit there alone.” It was one of the things he really hated about his mutation: it was hard to move around inside or get physically close to someone in fear of accidentally bopping them in the face with one of his wings.

Standing by the kitchen doorway Jungsoo sighed wistfully and wished for the umpteenth time that he was normal or at the very least was blessed with something a little less cumbersome than gigantic feather dusters. It was very sweet of Yixing to ask him to help with the Christmas cookies but he doubted the younger thought the whole plan through. Damn it… 

A mixing bowl broke him out of his thoughts nearly causing him to drop it. It took a few seconds before realising that Yixing most likely wanted him to mix the contents. He flashed a grateful smile at his companion who was busy making his own dough, happy to be of some service.

@yixingadv

This was a quaint restaurant, Hyeyeon thought idly as she looked around. The interior was not too flashy, the music was soothing, and the atmosphere was pleasant. She had to admit that her date had chosen a nice place to have dinner at, except currently she sat at a table on her own. Self-conscious, Hyeyeon looked down at the table while gripping her knees and her heels brushing the ground as she slowly swung her legs in small motions. Trying to look busy, Hyeyeon took out her phone to check the time and noted that it had only been a couple minutes since the agreed time, and some people liked to believe that being fashionably late was a good thing, right? Although, she herself could not subscribe to such a way of thinking when time was so scarce—once you’d wasted a few precious seconds they could never be returned to you, and no amount of memory manipulation could change that.

She reached for a glass of water and sipped. Hyeyeon could wait.

Well, it was safe to say she had been stood up because more than an hour had passed and she was sadly picking at her noodles by herself. She wanted to save face by eating as quickly as possible, but she also wanted to eat daintily and with some semblance of dignity, so instead Hyeyeon took her time eating her dinner. Occasionally she would pause to drink some more water or pretend to check her phone, but inside she wanted to cry at all this wasted time and effort in coordinating her outfit.

Her smile was tight-lipped as she paid for her meal and slid out of the restaurant with a figurative tail curled between her legs. As if to make matters worse, she stopped suddenly when she opened the door and was greeted to a gust of cold wind and rain. She timidly stepped outside, but refused to budge from beneath the overhang as she watched water glide down the streets in thin sheets.

✰: My muse invites your muse to dance to Christmas songs.

Round cheeks flush bright pink asHyeyeon looks down. “Ah, I don’t really know how to dance.” This is not acomplete lie; of the countless of dances she’s seen and bothered to memorize,not a single one quite matches to Shinhwa’s “We Wish You A Merry Christmas”like she would have wanted.  But the songcontinues to play as she struggles to decide how to move her body to thechiming bells.

She dares to look up at him, andwatching him dance makes her duck her head back down as she covers her mouthwith one hand to mask her laughter. Her eyes crinkle into sparkling crescentswhen she raises her head, and this time she shyly sways from side to side.Occasionally she mixes it with a happy-awkward twirl that shows off theglittering beads embroidered on her dress. The more she realizes how awkwardshe’s moving, the more she giggles as her face further heats up.

@yixingadv

The cycle’s starting again; he can feel it in the weight of his bones. His eyes droop due to sleepless, sweaty nights as a consequence of the discomfort of being ill. Kang Joon would very much have liked to stay in bed to rest and recuperate—as he usually does when he’s sick—until his immune system gets off its ass and starts working, but he supposes that’s the consequence of living in dormitories with countless of individuals susceptible to his power, all within arm’s length. (He’s still unsure about the susceptible part, what with them being mutants and all—if they can’t protect themselves from him, then he fears no one can—but he’s not selfish enough to test his theory out.)

So he walks his usual route in hopes of putting distance between him and his dorm-mates: first through the gardens, then on the path leading away from the foundation and towards civilisation (he’s careful not to include any residences as part of his scenery, lest their repeated exposure to him might cause them to fall ill). His slouched figure drags his feet along the twists and turns leading away from the foundation, one heavy step at a time. (If he holds any fear of him collapsing during his journey, the emotion must’ve been blocked out by his lethargy—that, and the mild discomfort of the abscess on his forearm, a tell-tale sign of a Staph infection.) His fingers lazily and repeatedly stroke the bump of the abscess, perhaps because he’s fascinated by the difference in texture between smooth skin and rough abscess; and they only ever leave the wound alone when he’s fidgeting with his medical face mask.

⤿ drabble prompts

Coming from not celebrating her birthday at all for a few years straight, it’s jarring to encounter the polar opposite experience like this.He’s a persistent one, she notes, but also rather thoughtful. The strange mixture can only make her smile at the sincerity at it all. He came with a wholesome intent and a single selfless inquiry of what she wanted for her birthday. And yet she still couldn’t stop herself from looking for the hidden motives behind it all. She searched through the so-called windows to his soul for stains and cracks of any kind, but couldn’t get past how undoubtedly kind they felt. 

That was when she started sinking into her own guilt and felt it filling her lungs. She asked herself if he’d come back for a favor down the line, or would use this opportunity to make unwarranted moves on her. The imaginary possibilities she constructed topple over as the tides pull them all apart, grain by grain. Yixing is a person who reached out to her with kindness, without prompt and without reason. She reminds herself that she shouldn’t perverse his Good Samaritan nature just because others exploited her trust.

Though she turned down the offer for getting her a present, she accepts the hug. Nothing extraordinary happens. They come together; they hug; they separate. Everything remains normal with a capital “N,” and she can’t be more grateful or happier about it. 

@yixingadv

Gathering his hand fans from his room Chanyeol made a beeline for the main courtyard of Daybreak. It wasn’t an ideal situation he had placed himself in, but he had only himself to blame. 

The shadows on the ground were a good enough indication that the time was near perfect, taking a look at the sun in the sky cemented this fact. Usually the rituals he would perform would be alone and secluded away from everyone else, though this was a hard task to fulfil knowing his current location. He had no choice but to have an audience, whether he liked it or not. Perhaps though it was better this way, the Almighty would be able to bless everyone individually. There was no way to know whether this was the case or not until he tried it.

The centre of the courtyard had more than enough space to perform the ritual, so he would have no problems there. Taking a look around he was already receiving a fair few stares from the other residents, although that was no shock. Considering his apparel it seemed only natural. His garish garb looked centuries behind what everyone else was wearing, so it was natural for stares to accumulate.

It was finally time for the ritual to begin. Completing one in a different area would take some time getting used to but as long as he completed it, the location didn’t really matter all that much.

Kneeling down he shut his eyes, taking in the atmosphere around him. Emptying all of his thoughts into the aether, clearing his body and soul. This lasted for a few minutes before he was ready to actually begin the ritual. Opening his mouth he began to speak the words he knew far too well. The words that had become a beacon of hope for his people, for what he believed to be the saving grace to everyone around the world. 

After a few words he opened his hand fans, wafting them slowly in the breeze. It was a shame that no music was able to accompany his dance, but there was nothing that could be done. Standing up slowly he increased the movement speed of the fans, moving from the spot he had originally been in. Slowly he spun around, wafting his hands through the air as he continued to speak in a soft murmur. The dance required was somewhat simple, however the elegance of the moves made it much more professional looking. Accompanied with his hand fans, it made for a much more graceful appearance.