Chapter Text
Christmas evening had arrived, and as you had every year for your whole childhood, you and your family were gathered at your grandparents’ house to celebrate the holiday. You were in college now, so you didn’t scout the gigantic present pile quite as closely as your younger cousins did, but you spared it a passing glance while helping your mother and aunts cook the Christmas cookies.
You were wrapped up in your favorite BTS hoodie, a memento from their most recent tour, the Speak Yourself Tour. It had been the first time you’d seen them in concert after what felt like eons of stanning them, and it was so bizarre and awe-inspiring to see them in person. Even though your seats hadn’t been very close to them, you’d still gotten to see them all with your own two eyes, and that was enough for you. They were actually really real human people. Wild.
When she spotted what you were wearing, your favorite and most eccentric aunt grinned to herself, giving your hip a little pinch that made you yelp. “Still into your boys?”
“Who, these boys?” You motioned to your shirt. “Of course I am!”
“Good, good…” She nodded to herself with a pleased and mischievous grin on her face. “You’ll like your present then, I’m sure.”
“Ooh, no spoilers Aunt Matilda!” You laughed, blushing bright red. Despite your half-hearted protests, you were definitely excited now, and could hardly wait for present time. It was like being nine years old all over again.
Eventually, the cookies were all baked, the family was all gathered, and the presents were all distributed. Your pile was much bigger this year than you were used to, but that was all because of the seven rectangular boxes from your Aunt Matilda. The rest of your presents this year, as they had been since you were around eighteen, came in an envelope, usually in the form of money or a gift card. This present, however, was mysterious, but maybe not as mysterious as it should have been.
Waiting behind the shiny purple wrapping paper of the first box you picked up was a plastic replica of none other than President Dimple Dork himself. “OMG YOU DIDN’T!!!” You squealed excitedly, looking him over and stroking the plastic that was standing between you and the little plastic Namjoon. “Aunt Matilda, you are literally the best!”
“I thought you might like those.” She smiled, watching you kick your legs with childlike glee. This was quite possibly the best thing she could have ever gotten for you, considering, somehow, miraculously, you didn’t have them already. You knew there was a perfect spot for them in your apartment.
You didn’t waste any more time before getting the rest out of their wrapping paper so you could look all of them over individually. Sure, what the Twitter ARMYs had said was true: they weren’t PERFECT recreations of your seven favorite Korean pop stars...but they were still cute, and you couldn’t wait to take them home and get them out of their boxes.
If only you’d known then just what waited inside them…
Once Christmas break was over and you were finally back to your apartment, you took the seven plastic boxes back to your bedroom to finally, finally open. It had taken all of your willpower to not to open them while you were home, but you didn’t want to lose one of their shoes or something. Plus, they were easier to transport when they were all in similarly shaped boxes than they were loose. Easier to count, too.
So, as soon as you stepped inside the door to your room, you set them all on your desk, letting them tumble from your arms. After apologizing to the ones you had dropped--Jungkook and Yoongi--you dug around in your drawer for a pair of scissors sturdy enough to cut into the boxes. You had years of Barbie experience under your belt, you knew these didn’t come open easy.
You picked up Jimin’s box first, cutting through the plastic and being very careful not to cut yourself on the sharp edge. Once you had the box open, you pulled out the piece of cardboard he was strapped to. There was a wire around his waist, one around each of his wrists and ankles, and one around his neck. You gently twisted them until they came apart and then set him on the shelf.
It took some time, but eventually, you got down to the very last box, the one holding Namjoon. You grinned to yourself, admiring the details of his little plastic face. They’d even added his famous dimple. How cute.
“Let’s get you out of there, huh buddy?” You chuckled to yourself, cutting open the last box and pulling the leader free from his plastic prison. Working with tender care, you undid the binds holding him and then set him on the shelf next to the rest of the others. There. All done. You slapped your hands against one another and started to pick up all of the little pieces of wire and whatnot, tossing them into the garbage before you gathered up the larger pieces, the boxes, namely, and took them to the kitchen, where you kept your recycling bin.
As soon as the door was securely closed, Namjoon looked both ways at the other dolls. You’d situated him right in the middle, organizing them in order of age.
“Well she’s…” He started, unsure of exactly what to say now that they were finally all alone.
“Older than I thought she would be.” Yoongi provided. The others nodded. When they’d been scooped up from the toy store for the holiday rush, all seven of them, they’d been expecting some thirteen-year-old fangirl to place them on her shelf, maybe force them into romances with her Barbie dolls that she couldn’t help but pretend was her. They certainly were not expecting this...college student. It was a pleasant surprise, to say the least.
“Yeah,” Hoseok agreed. “Thank God for that, huh?”
“I like her.” Tae decided, smiling that boxy smile of his. Even as a plastic replica, he still retained some of his namesake’s charm. Maybe not his perfect hair, but at least he’d gotten to keep Taehyung’s adorable boxy smile.
Namjoon nodded, his painted-on eyes wistful. “Yeah, I do too…”