#2025 draft class

[puckpocketed]

number 1 victory royale!!

[16archive]

commentators on the capitals vs canadiens espn broadcast discussing the 2015 draft class after dylan strome's goal

"that's a pretty good draft, connor mcdavid, jack eichel, dylan strome, mitch marner was in that draft."

"and it's really amazing how random the birth years are and how a draft turns out. that year of course, those are, those aren't just good players, those are difference makers."

[maxz-b]

my ideal 2025 playoffs is something like edmonton-vegas western conference final, toronto-washington eastern conference final (dont ask me how the leafs got there)

mark stone plays hockey on the ice. auston matthews goes bald overnight from stress. exactly ten years after they were drafted we are thus watching our cursed 2015 top four picks fight for a cup

Connor McDavid loses back to back stanley cups - this time against noted former girlbestfriend dylan strome - and retires on the spot. ovi misses gretzkys record by a single goal and is forced to play another season. connor brown oilers captaincy for the first name and the first name only

[nymdraws]

something creepshow inspired teehee

[kontadodju]

Also, they locked me away yesterday afternoon hi everyone

[jeynearrynofthevale]

It’s actually kind of sad that the draft class 10 years after the 2015 draft, which is widely considered the strongest of all time, is a flop. Like, teams are trading first rounders with no issue because they’re supposed to be kind of meh.

[hexhomos]

isnt it wild how jayce is the most heavily misunderstood arcane character..everytime i see takes about him being upper-class and rich or mean and condescending or not caring about viktor in s1 or whatever other garbage ppl say about him i lose a year of my life

It's crazy to me that I've been saying jayce is working class for years and this got confirmed in the draft 1 board for arcane christian linke posted on twitter sometime ago lol

house Talis is a MINOR HOUSE of toolmakers whose most prominent contribution is the 'collapsible pocket wrench'. They're literally blacksmiths. This is a service and labor position. Jayce can't even afford to use gold in his inventions in act1 because he relies on the Kiramman money for everything. This is not the life of a rich guy in Piltover this is middle class at best lol his drive to finish up hextech and succeed academically is him trying to build a better life for himself!

Blacksmithing is historically a very intensive work position. The work wears you down & eventually disables you very early in life (jayce's injury in act3 seems to be a metaphorical speedrun of that, in some ways) we're never told how jayce's dad died but it is very fair to imagine it was a work related. he's fucking aware of this, its true In Real Life and it brings such an interesting context to his interactions with Viktor and how they want to create things that help common laborers and make the work better if it wasn't for the council. (in s1 act2 their progress day showcase to heimerdinger BEGINS with jayce complaining that they've been stuck fulfilling the council's demands these past 10 years and now, finally, *finally* it's their time to decide what to do with hextech. and they're not even allowed that.)

Also, the perfected hexgems in s1 are kept in Kiramman-crest boxes. I noticed this just the other day. JAYCE AND VIKTOR DON'T OWN SHITTTTTTTTTTT they're getting exploited big time while all that 'investor' money is charged back with deep dividends

just like real life academics they probably spent most of their life writing up grant proposals like dogs and begging for funding that will wring them dry later on. Where the hell is all my jayce and viktor class solidarity 'getting drunk off their mugs and complaining about their dipshit bosses' content?

[related post]

MARCH 2025 UPDATE: just got my Arcane artbook and it directly confirms the Talis family legacy is not big industry, because those weren't even part of the world. It is only post-timeskip that we start to see ramped up production + Jayce's focus is giving magic to the common people.

[puckpocketed]

Your NHL team isn't playing tonight? Searching aimlessly for some hockey to watch? Every Wednesday night the WHL streams a FREE game on youtube! They play about 6 hours from now. Tonight it is the Moose Jaw Warriors vs the Calgary Hitmen. edit: THIS THING PUBLISHED TOO EARLY

hanging out in #wntd lb and as always I choose a guy/some guys to watch + root for, it got a little long so rooting interests below!!

Noted 2024 Sens draft pick, WJC Team Canada snub, and boybestie of C.Wetsch, Carter Yakemchuk is out week-to-week </3 so unless his status changes we will not be able to see him. but fear NOT!! I still got a guy!!

Ben Kindel (#11, Hitmen, forward, draft eligible) - full transparency I had no idea who the hell he was before like, a week ago. However, I did hear a fair bit about him while rummaging around in public scouting media. Prospect guys will have their favourites outside of the Big Names and Kindel's just someone who keeps coming up and I finally got curious enough to dig around.

I knoww people say this draft class drops off a cliff after 10-15 picks, but stilll I love to hear about bright spots. He's having a massive season right now and he's sneaking up ranking lists, and that's very exciting to me <3

Kindel is a smart, versatile forward who is always in the right position and a constant factor in all three zones and all situations. He has an impressive small area game, as he likes to hang onto pucks and draw pressure before finding teammates with precision through tight lines. Kindel also possesses an impressive wrister release that he’s able to unleash incredibly quickly. He’s shown much more willingness to use it this season, and it’s resulted in a huge uptick in goalscoring. Kindel’s increased production combined with his versatility in all situations make him another name to watch as a potential draft riser as the season continues. - SpokedZ for Smaht Scouting

what I'm hearing in snippets is he's always looking for seams, he's constantly whipping that shit down the ice!! SO fascinated by the kind of player confident enough to attempt this kind of stretch pass <- allegedly, multiple. Here's a shift compilation if anyone's interested.

...he is also currently on a 20 game point streak so either he extends it OR !! as per usual on Wednesday Nights in the Dub, whoever I point out as worth watching EMBARRASSES me by flopping badstyle !! (i curse them. i think its me i think i curse them . ouh </3)

[starlightkun]

⇢ word count: 16.3k ⇢ genre: fluff, college au, brother's best friend trope, christmas/holiday themed, baseball player!jisung, rich kids!reader and chenle, part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon ⇢ warnings: chenle and reader are annoying as hell together lol (they love each other but would die before saying ily), everyone’s parents suck!, only minor proof-reading bc i wanted to post for christmas, FAKE pro baseball players mentioned (idk anything abt baseball and was not going to research any real baseball players and be wrong abt them ok) ⇢ extra info: this is part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon, three short, unrelated fics starring jisung all with cheesy hallmark christmas movie-esque premises. there’s no continuing plotline between fics in this series, they’re all standalone fics ⇢ author’s note: ok so this one isn’t exactly “short” but as always, i got carried away. im just happy i got this one out in time and it didn’t end up being 20k+ lmao. anyway, this is my last fic of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon, and of 2024, and i hope you guys had as much fun reading them as i did writing them! happy holidays and i will be back with even more fics in 2025! ⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon

“I know what you’ve been trying to do this whole time. You’re not ‘very into baseball,’ you’re into Jisung.”

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 20

Clicking the ‘submit’ button for your last final paper of the semester, you let out a sigh of relief. You were done, for now. The time in the corner of your laptop read 10:58 p.m. You’d submitted with an hour to spare. Usually, you hated cutting it so close, but four of your five classes this semester had assigned fifteen-page papers, and you wanted to take your time researching, outlining, drafting, and editing all of them before the deadlines.

There were only a few other students scattered around the library so late on the last academic day of the semester. One table away from you was another student, a boy who had also been hard at work on his laptop for the greater part of the past four hours. You had seen him around campus, not in any meaningful way, but enough that his face was familiar to you. And tonight, you had been stealing glances at him—when he let out a groan or a sigh that rang a little too loud in the dead silence, pushed his hoodie off his head to reveal his dark hair and handsome features, or stood up from his chair to go to the vending machine around the corner and walk around the library to stretch his obscenely long legs. Yeah, you’d done a bit of ogling, you also needed a break every now and then.

He was still typing away at his laptop when you had packed up for the night and were heading out, your path taking you right by his table. You were never usually this bold, but maybe it was the rush from finally being done with finals week, or how late it was, but you found yourself stopping next to the end seat the cute boy was occupying.

Upon realizing that you were there, he looked at you with wide, uncertain eyes, slowly taking his headphones off. “Hm?”

“Are you going to be here till closing?” You asked him knowingly, a playful smile on your lips and bag of gummy candy in your hands. You had bought it during a vending machine break earlier in the night but never ended up opening it.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m hoping only another thirty minutes…”

“Here.” You offered the candies out to him. “I’m done for the night.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You set them down next to his laptop. Not wanting to take up any more of his waning time left to submit his assignment, you started off towards the exit again. “Good luck. Have a good break.”

“You too…”

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 21

“You didn’t get his number?!” Your roommate gasped in horror after you told her about the cute guy from the library. She had been asleep when you got home last night, and now the two of you were packing in preparation for your respective winter break plans. Sooyoung was heading back home while you and your brother would be driving to meet your parents at your family’s winter house in the mountains.

“Or his name,” you confirmed sadly. “I mean, the poor guy only had an hour left of the semester to submit whatever he was working on, there was no way he would’ve wanted me wasting it.”

“You have got to find him when we get back.”

“I’ll try,” you agreed.

There was a long honk from outside your dorm, and you rolled your eyes before peering out your window. Sure enough, your brother’s sleek black SUV was outside.

“Alright, I’ll see you in two weeks, Soo.” You hugged your roommate goodbye. Before you could even grab your bag, there was another obnoxiously long honk, followed by a series of shorter honks.

You immediately videocalled your brother.

Chenle picked up, already complaining. “Y/N, hurry up! You always take forever—”

“Shut the fuck up!” You retorted, flipping off the camera. “You’re so fucking annoying, I swear to—”

He laid on the horn again, and you could hear complaints start up outside from other people yelling at him to shut the fuck up. Then, you swore you heard another voice in Chenle’s car, quietly suggesting that he stop, but it was too indistinct for you to properly identify.

“Who was that?” You squinted at him suspiciously.

“I told you I was bringing a friend—”

“I know, I meant which one?”

“Get your slow ass down here and find out, or we’re leaving you!” With that, he hung up.

You pocketed your phone with a quiet scream, then turned to your roommate. “Ugh! Can you believe we’re related?”

“Yes,” she answered immediately, not even looking at you.

Hauling your stuff downstairs by yourself, you were a little out of breath by the time you shoved the front door of your dorm open. Your duffel bag started slipping down your shoulder, and as you readjusted that, you weren’t even looking out for the uneven slab of concrete that you knew stuck up in front of the entrance. Your toe caught on it, and you let out an unfortunate ‘eep!’ as you tripped forward. Your bag slid off your shoulder again, catching on your elbow and swinging around, the weight making you stumble a little more. You stayed upright, and you were thankful that only your brother and his friend saw all that. Yeah, Chenle was going to tease you for the entire three-hour car ride, and Mark or whoever was coming with would definitely get in on the ribbing, but you had plenty of dirt on them too. It was the natural order of things.

“Clumsy ass,” Chenle yelled at you from the car, the driver’s side window rolled down. You flipped him off on instinct. “Jisung, go help her before she hurts herself.”

Jisung. That was a new one. Admittedly, you didn’t know all of your brother’s friends, you two ran in different circles at school. You were usually introduced them in passing if you happened to run into each other at events, or some you knew from before college, like Jeno and Jaemin, the twins who lived next door to you guys growing up, or Mark and Donghyuck, who you all went to high school with.

A car door opened and closed before a tall figure was walking around the front of the car to meet you on the sidewalk. You blinked in surprise as you recognized Chenle’s friend that was approaching you, and not because of your brother. The cute boy from the library was standing in front of you, seemingly having a similar sense of déjà vu as he froze, hand already outstretched, reaching for your duffel bag.

“Hey again,” you chuckled, putting your bag strap in his hand. “Did you get everything turned in on time?”

“Yeah, I did.” Jisung unfroze and smiled at you, and you swore the sun seemed dim in comparison. “Thanks for the candy, by the way. Completely forgot to tell you that.”

“It’s okay, you were busy.”

“I’m Jisung, by the way.”

You nodded towards your brother’s car. “I had guessed.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Right.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“I had guessed,” he quipped back.

Chenle honked again, then yelled, “Come on!”

You rolled your eyes. “Pain in the ass.”

Chenle popped the trunk for you from his seat, and Jisung put your duffel bag in among their things that were already packed, then he took your suitcase to put away as well. As you opened the passenger door, your brother immediately shook his head.

“Nuh-uh.”

“What?” You looked at him incredulously. “I always get shotgun!”

“And Jisung gets carsick in the backseat.” He pointed at the boy standing awkwardly behind you. “I’m not having him puke all over my car. You’ll survive the backseat for once.”

Hating his condescending tone, but with no other option, you graciously stepped aside. Jisung gave you a quiet ‘sorry, thanks’ as he opened the back door for you. After buckling yourself into the middle seat and Chenle starting his music, everyone was ready to go.

“Y/N, Jisung,” Chenle made introductions over his shoulder, jabbing his thumb between you two. “Jisung’s on the baseball team and was in my bio lab last semester. Y/N is my annoying little sister.”

You kicked the back of his seat. “By ten months. As soon as you popped out, Mom and Dad were so disappointed they immediately decided to have another kid.”

“Regret saying yes yet, Jisung?” He asked his friend smugly.

Jisung, meanwhile, had been staring straight ahead at the road, clearly feeling uncomfortable as he didn’t want to get in the middle of your typical bickering.

“Ignore him, Jisung.” You leaned forward between their seats over the center console, your tone much more friendly. “So you’re on the baseball team? Do you have an athletic scholarship or something?”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” he answered hurriedly. “Uhm, it’s the only way I could afford to go here. Full ride as long as I keep my grades up.”

You all did go to a rather expensive private university—your parents were alumni, they wouldn’t have sent you anywhere else, of course.

“Wow, so you must be really good, then.”

“I mean, I don’t know—”

“A full ride, I would think they only give those out to the best players, right?”

“Well—”

Chenle cut in, “You’re making him nervous, Y/N. Back up, for fuck’s sake.”

You didn’t back up. “Am I making you nervous, Jisung?”

“No, it’s fine,” he rushed to reassure you, finally turning around in his seat to face you. He let out a squeak as soon as he did, probably not anticipating that you’d be as close as you were. He sat back in his seat, propping himself up against his seatback on his forearm. “Uhm, it’s just that this is only gonna be my second season. Still a rookie, you know. I don’t think I’m that good.”

Jisung sort of reminded you of a little hamster when he was nervous like this, and your lips twitched with amusement. He really was cute.

“When’s baseball season?”

“Practice officially starts in January, first game’s in February.”

“Don’t you get cold out on the field?”

He shrugged self-consciously. “I mean, we’re moving around a lot. And we have hand warmers and stuff for when we’re on the bench.”

You kept eagerly asking him questions. “What position do you play?”

“Pitcher. I’m a switch pitcher—I can pitch left or right-handed—so they like that.”

“So it’s a surprise for the other team?”

“No, you have to declare which hand you’re going to pitch for each batter beforehand,” he admitted, then quickly tacked on, “But it still kinda throws them off!”

You hummed thoughtfully. “What about when you’re hitting the ball?”

“I could do either, but I prefer my right.”

“You’re never this interested in my friends,” Chenle interrupted accusatorily.

“Because I already know like, way too much about the twins, Hyuck, and Mark. Wish I could unlearn some of it, actually,” you snorted. “And you’ve been trying to get me into sports for our whole lives. What’s the problem?”

“Basketball,” your brother corrected you. “I’ve been trying to get you to watch basketball with me. Jisung plays baseball. Wrong sport.”

“Stop talking to me like I’m five,” you snapped, kicking his seat again.

“Stop kicking my seat like a five-year-old and I might,” he retorted.

You scowled at the back of his big head.

“I can see you pouting in the rearview mirror.”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, flopping back against your seat.

“Saw that too.”

“Wasn’t trying to hide it!” You snipped back childishly. Turning your focus back to Jisung, who was looking out the passenger window, you asked, “Is he like this to you, Jisung?”

“Don’t answer that,” Chenle directed him before the other boy could open his mouth. “She’ll tire herself out.”

“Oh, you’re insufferable!” You spat. “Talking about me like I’m not even here! Or like I’m Daegal!”

“Well, Daegal is actually trained.”

“Pull the car over, I’m going to beat your ass!”

“Hey!” Surprisingly, it was the soft-spoken Jisung who raised his voice over the sounds of you two fighting, shocking both of you into silence. He continued, “Chenle, you’ve been antagonizing Y/N ever since we pulled up in front of her dorm, man. Then you act like she’s crazy for being pissed off at you. It’s honestly pissing me off.”

Chenle huffed loudly, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel, before he finally said, “Fine. Sorry, Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever. Thanks for apologizing because Jisung told you to.” You unbuckled and scooted over to the seat behind Jisung, buckling back in and looking out the window at the scenery rushing by.

The car was silent other than Chenle’s music, which he turned up as you pulled out your phone.

[you: i found out cute library guy’s name]

[soosoo: omfg the cia has nothing on u]

[soosoo: SPILL]

[you: i didn’t stalk him, turns out he’s my brother’s friend. his name is park jisung and he’s on the baseball team]

[soosoo: your brother’s friend that you’re going to be ALL ALONE WITH in the mountains for the next TWO WEEKS???]

[you: not ALL ALONE, chenle will be there, remember?]

[soosoo: unfortunately]

[soosoo: WAIT i found him on the team’s roster online and WHEW GIRL]

[soosoo: attached image.]

It was a screenshot of Jisung’s athlete profile on the university’s sports page. The small ID photo he had on there honestly did him no justice.

[soosoo: how is ur brother always friends w the HOTTEST GUYS who ALSO PLAY SPORTS????]

[soosoo: i need him to hook me up fr]

[you: don’t tell me ur thinking abt jeno and jaemin rn]

[soosoo: always]

[you: u don’t need chenle to hook u up if u rlly want, im friends with them too??]

[soosoo: YOU WOULD????]

[you: but you’d have to pick one]

[soosoo: god i am not your strongest soldier]

[you: exactly what i thought]

At the mountain cabin, you three were the first ones there, of course. You parents wouldn’t be arriving until Christmas Eve due to their work schedules. The house was already decorated like something straight out of a Hallmark movie—lights, red and green bows, candy canes, baubles, and other decorations all throughout.

“Wow,” Jisung breathed out, stopping in the foyer and turning around, his eyes wide as he took it all in. “Your parents are really into Christmas, huh?”

“Not really.” You had also stopped to watch his slow circle of awe. “They pay somebody to set it up.”

The wonder dropped off his face and was replaced with confusion, his brow furrowing. Chenle yelled for him from further in the house, and you jerked your head for him to follow. Your brother was at the threshold of the hallway where all your rooms were located.

“Yours is there,” Chenle pointed Jisung to one end of the hallway as you slipped by him to head to the bedroom at the other end. “Y/N’s is on the other side.”

“We share a bathroom,” you called over your shoulder as you opened the door. “Don’t use all the hot water in the morning!”

“And I’m upstairs.” Your brother indicated to a small ladder between Jisung’s room and the bathroom in the middle. “I got the loft. Won it in rock-paper-scissors almost two decades ago.”

“You cheated!” You reminded him loudly from where you had started unpacking your things in your room.

“Sore loser!”

“Sore winner!”

“Anyway, holler if you need something.”

You were still unpacking when there was a soft knock at your open door. It was Jisung leaning in your doorway.

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly.

“Hey.” You smiled at him brightly. “Bathroom’s the middle door. We both have doors that connect to it, so knock before we go in? Even if the light is off?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Jisung continued silently watching you unpack, then finally blurted out, “You egg him on.”

“Huh? Who?”

“Chenle.” He held his hands up in front of him defensively as you opened your mouth. “I know he started everything back in the car, but you didn’t help.”

You sat back on your feet in front of your open suitcase and dresser drawers. “Yeah, I know I’ve got a temper problem. I need to work on it.”

“I didn’t say anything in front of him because I kind of got the feeling that he was being extra mean because I was there.”

“When we’re hanging out with friends that we kinda share, like Jeno and Jaemin or whoever, it’s fine. You know, they met both of us at the same time. But I think when we’re with people that are his friends, it’s different,” you explained, gesturing to an armchair in the corner for Jisung to sit in while you talked. “We were always in the same grade and stuff, so obviously people assumed we were twins. That’s also why he really gets on the ‘little sister’ thing. When we got to college, we were both relieved to finally be different people, you know? Have different friends, different things that were ours.”

“You seem to understand him really well.”

“Known him my whole life,” you pointed out. “And just because I understand why he acts like this doesn’t mean it still doesn’t piss me the fuck off.”

“To answer your question from the car, no, he doesn’t treat me like that. He’s sarcastic, sure, but not like that.”

Zipping up your empty suitcase, you started on your duffel bag that was on your bed. “Sorry you had to deal with us like that, even more so that you had break us up. I’m sure the next two weeks were flashing before your eyes, huh?”

“Honestly, I’m just glad you didn’t actually start beating him up,” he chuckled.

“Me too, that would’ve been embarrassing.” You added, “For him. To get his ass beat in front of one of his buddies.”

He looked out the room down the hallway, checking to see if Chenle was coming, then admitted, “Don’t tell him, but I was sort of calculating how many swings to let you get in before it would look unreasonable for me to not intervene.”

“Oh really? And how many would you have ‘let me’ have?” You grinned, using finger quotes over ‘let me.’

“One good punch and a hair pull, I think.” He looked to be sizing you up, a teasing glint in his eye. “You seem like you fight dirty like that.”

“Could claim you didn’t want to hurt your friend’s little sister, let me get a few more in.” You mimicked punching and kneeing the air. “At least let me knee him in the balls.”

“I’ll consider it in the event you two do actually brawl while we’re here.”

You looked up at the ceiling, thinking about your brother up there somewhere. “Eh, we’ll make up properly soon. One thing about us, we fight a lot, but it’s never for that long.”

“Okay, now I’m worried about the next two weeks.”

You laughed, maybe a little harder than his joke warranted, but you couldn’t help it—he was cute, he was funny, and he was making your chest feel tighter and your head spin faster the longer you were around him.

“Why are you in here?” Chenle had appeared in your doorway, looking genuinely perturbed at the visage of Jisung sitting in your chair.

“Because we’re talking?” You answered for him. “Or is he only allowed to talk to you while he’s here and I have to take a vow of silence?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he snickered, walking in and flopping on your bed.

“You first.”

“You want to do lunch in town then get the tree?” He checked the time on his phone. “Mom and Dad know how much you like Christmas tree shopping so that’s the only thing not done.”

“Or is it just another responsibility to pawn off on someone?” You snorted, opening the door into the adjoining bathroom to put your toiletry bag away.

Your brother’s distant voice called after you, “Even if it is, we can still have fun!”

You took a deep breath, and came out of the bathroom with a smile on your face. “You’re right. Let’s do it.”

“Ew, stop that, it’s creepy.” Chenle threw a pillow at you.

You caught it and chucked it right back at him. “What? Smiling?”

It hit him in the face before falling to the floor. “Yeah, exactly. I’m done trying to cheer you up, keep being a little Grinch, it suits your face better.”

You climbed on the bed and grabbed a pillow to smack him with it. “Quit being fucking rude!”

He laughed and cackled, rolling away from your pillow attack until his eyes went wide with panic as he went right over the edge of the mattress and landed on the floor. It was your turn to burst into laughter at the sound he made, and when he started groaning and complaining, you knew he was fine. Jisung was also laughing from his seat.

You finally gathered yourself enough to peer over the edge of the bed, looking down at where Chenle was sprawled out dramatically like a cartoon character that had been crushed by an anvil. As soon as he looked at you, he started giggling too.

“What about this one?” Mr. Song, the elderly man who had run the Christmas tree farm in town for as long as your family had been coming for the holidays, was showing you around to the various trees they had for sale.

“Ah, too skinny.” You shook your head. “We have a lot of ornaments. And a vaulted ceiling too, so we can get a taller one.”

“Right, of course. How could I forget?” His eyes crinkled fondly as he walked you around by the elbow. “You and your brother have gotten so big, Y/N. I remember when you two were up to my knee. Always playing hide and seek in the trees.”

“We used to think you were Santa Claus,” you giggled, gesturing to his big, bushy beard. “We told everyone we knew that we got our Christmas tree from Santa every year.”

“Good to see that Chenle and your boyfriend get along so well.” He nodded to where Chenle and Jisung were throwing snowballs at each other. More accurately, Jisung was pelting them at Chenle with scary precision, and Chenle was doing his best to throw some back in between peals of laughter.

“Oh, Jisung is Chenle’s friend from school, he’s not my boyfriend,” you clarified quickly.

“My mistake.” Mr. Song patted your arm.

After circling the next one Mr. Song showed you, you were content, inspecting how dense the branches were, the height, and general shape.

“Guys!” You yelled out to get Chenle and Jisung’s attention. They ceased their (unfair) battle, meandering over to you. “What do you think?”

Chenle gave it a once-over before nodding. “Great pick as always, Y/N.”

“Is that going to fit through the front door?” Jisung asked skeptically, trying to fit his arms around it to gauge the size.

“It will,” you promised as Chenle pulled out his checkbook.

Two of Mr. Song’s grandsons brought the tree up to the cabin in their truck, and you had to open both front doors all the way for them to carry it in. They got it set up in the corner for you, and you sent them on their way with an extra cash tip.

“We’ve got to let the branches settle before we can decorate it,” you advised Jisung. “So we’ll do that tomorrow.”

“Y/N’s got a whole thing about the tree,” Chenle added from one of the couches, turning the TV on.

“Smells nice,” Jisung piped up.

“Did your family have real trees or artificial ones?” You asked, taking up the other couch.

Jisung seemed to momentarily panic about where to sit, before taking the empty space at the end of Chenle’s couch, facing you. “A fake one. It came with the lights already on. Easier for my mom to set up.”

“One or two?” Chenle asked abruptly.

“What?”

“Two!” You answered, and Chenle immediately played a movie from whatever streaming service he was scrolling through. You went to fill Jisung in, “It’s a game we like to play. One of us will assign numbers to things in our head without telling the other, and you have to reply with a number without really knowing what you’re picking.”

“I couldn’t decide which movie to watch,” Chenle added.

“So, instead of a coin flip, you used Y/N?” Jisung clarified.

“Sort of. You can do it for more than two options. Like…” You tilted your head back and forth as you tried to think of one on the spot. As soon as you had, you perked up. “One, two or three?”

“Three?”

“Hot chocolate it is.” You stood up from the couch and headed towards the kitchen.

Jisung turned in his seat to keep you in his eyesight. “Wait, what were the options?”

“That’s part of the fun.” You smiled. “Sometimes you never know.”

A few minutes later, you came back into the room with three mugs of hot chocolate, and handed one each to Chenle and Jisung before sitting back on your couch.

Several movies, rounds of various video games, and large pizzas later, you were beat. Standing up from your couch, you stretched and started grabbing everyone’s plates.

“I’ll get these if you guys put the food away?”

Chenle gave you a thumbs-up, his eyes locked on his phone screen.

“Night!” You tossed back over your shoulder as you traipsed out of the room.

“Night!” Your brother echoed.

“Goodnight!” Jisung replied.

As soon as you were bundled up in your blankets in your room, you videocalled Sooyoung. She picked up, the familiar scenery of her childhood bedroom in the background.

“Hey!” She beamed. “How was day one? Kill Chenle? Make any moves on cute library guy?”

“We know his name now, Soo!” You laughed.

“But a nickname is so fun and mysterious!”

“I did almost kill Chenle in the first ten minutes of the car ride,” you groaned. “Jisung surprisingly came to my defense.”

“Your brother’s friend took your side against him? Wow…”

“He’s really sweet, he’s making an effort to be my friend too.”

“Friend? Or something else?” She waggled her eyebrows.

“I don’t know, it’s been one day,” you giggled, rolling over onto your back. “Anyway, how’s your family?”

You stayed up chatting for another hour before finally going to sleep, giddy with thoughts of what could happen tomorrow.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 22

In the morning, with no alarm for class to get you up, you woke up, rolled over, and went back to sleep several times. Eventually, you decided that it was time to get up, and slowly shuffled out of your room. Chenle was already up, by the stove cooking something. Jisung was nowhere in sight, probably still sleeping.

Upon hearing your footsteps, he looked over his shoulder. “Morning.”

You grunted back.

“Mom called.”

You made another noise of acknowledgment, still rubbing sleep out of your eyes as you lumbered over to your seat at the table. Your brother set a plate of pancakes down in front of you, and you squinted up at him suspiciously. Typically he would’ve made you get your own plate, or more likely, make your own food. Actually, it was kind of weird that he was up before you. He must not have gone back to sleep after talking to your mom. It wasn’t unusual for her to have called early in the morning—your parents’ work took them all around the world, and often the only free time they could find had them calling at odd hours.

“They’re not going to make it for Christmas, Y/N,” he told you softly, still standing next to your chair.

“Of course,” you scoffed, lip curling with distaste as you picked up your fork.

“They’ll be here on the 26th, and we can do everything with them then.”

“Are they staying for New Year��s?”

His silence was all the answer you needed.

“Of course,” you repeated with more venom in your tone than before, dropping your utensil back down onto the table. “What the fuck else should we have expected? Honestly, why do they even fucking bother?”

He put a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Chenle, don’t apologize for them.” You patted his hand. “It’s not your fault.” Pushing your chair back, you stood up. “I’m not hungry right now. I’m going out back.”

“I’ll save your plate.”

Shoving boots on your feet and pulling a heavier coat on, you opened the door in your bedroom that led directly out onto the back patio. It had snowed last night, so you had to shuffle through the fresh layer to get to the swing seat back here. The cold morning air bit at your nose and cheeks, and you tucked your hands into your pockets to keep them warm—you’d forgotten gloves. Sighing, you watched your breath fog up in front of your face, until your tears overtook your vision and you couldn’t see anything past them.

You pulled your knees to your chest on the porch swing, pushing your face into the thick material of your pajama pants. Why did it still hurt so bad? They did this all the fucking time.

The sound of feet crunching snow came to your ears, and you wiped at your face as you looked up at who was approaching you. It was Jisung, two steaming mugs in his gloved hands.

“Uhm, Chenle said you weren’t hungry. Does cider count?” He offered one out to you.

You chuckled, accepting it, grateful to have something warm to wrap your chilly fingers around. “No, it doesn’t. Thanks, Jisung.”

“It’s pretty out here,” he commented, looking around at the scenery. “Or not, if you want me to go back inside.”

You laughed again, gesturing to the empty half of the porch swing next to you. “You can stay.”

Jisung brushed off the snow from the rest of the porch swing before sitting down. He wedged his mug of cider between his legs and you watched him curiously as he started taking his gloves off. He offered them out to you, making you shake your head.

“I’m fine, I’ve got the cider—”

“So do I.”

“Then how about this.” You plucked one glove from him and put it on your right hand, which was holding the handle of the mug. Your left cradled the body of the mug, where all the warmth was. “Glove goes on the colder hand.”

He chuckled, slipping his remaining glove on his left, and wrapping his right hand around the mug. “Innovative.”

“Thank you.”

The smile faded as he turned more somber. “I’m sorry to hear that your parents’ plans changed.”

You took a sip of the cider, staring out at the still landscape of snow-covered trees and mountains. “Me too. You think I would be used to it by now.”

“Chenle was talking about maybe going to this ice-skating place later. If you’re feeling up to it.”

“That’s what’s nice about having him. No matter how much stupid shit we fight about, we’ve at least got each other when they do stuff like this.” You half-smiled to yourself. “You know, sometimes I think they did that on purpose. Had two kids instead of one so they wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving us alone all the time.”

The tears had come back, and you wiped at them with your bare hand, not wanting to soil Jisung’s glove that he had given you. Shaking your head at yourself, you said derisively, “I’m sure I seem pathetic to you. Rich girl crying in her family’s winter vacation home because mommy and daddy won’t make it for Christmas.”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic.”

You turned your gaze to Jisung to find him already looking at you, so sincerely, too. Swallowing down more tears, you asked, “Why aren’t you home with your family? I’m sure you’d much rather be with them than stuck here with us.”

“My parents are divorced. Every year, my dad and his wife go on some cruise for Christmas, and my mom spends it with my stepdad’s family. They say I’m welcome there, but they’re all strangers, except my mom.” He shrugged half-heartedly, blowing across the surface of his cider. “I know it’s kinda my fault too, I’m not making an effort to get to know them or whatever. But I just… don’t want to.”

“How’d you end up coming along with Chenle then?”

“Last year I stayed at school for Winter Break. Met Chenle in the spring, and when Winter Break plans came up this year, he was appalled at the idea of me eating at the dining hall for Christmas dinner.” Jisung chuckled, and you smiled fondly, able to imagine your brother’s horrified face. “It wasn’t even an offer, he decided for me.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here instead of eating dining hall food by yourself.”

“Me too.”

“And I’m sorry your parents suck too.”

“Shitty parents club.” He held his mug out to you.

You clinked your against it in a commiserative toast. “We need Chenle out here for our full membership.”

“Yeah, but this swing only fits two people…”

You smiled a little as you sipped your cider. “Then I guess it’s just us for right now.”

Jisung smiled back. “Guess so.”

That afternoon, as promised, you three went ice skating. The local nature reserve had a lake that always froze solid, and would rent out ice skates and sell hot chocolate and other treats to earn a little extra income—free admission if you brought your own skates. You were the first one to get your skates on, and shuffled onto the frozen lake excitedly. There were a few other people out here—couples, families, groups of friends—but the area cordoned off for ice skating was big enough that everyone had plenty of room to spread out. A wide smile immediately spread across your face. Chenle knew you well, which was a blessing and a curse. He knew exactly how to push your buttons and cheer you up.

Speaking of, your brother smoothly skated up next to you, smug look on his face. “Better?”

“With a head that big, I’d hope you’d have a good idea every so often,” you teased, lightly bopping him through his beanie.

“Ungrateful.” He snapped one of your earmuffs against your head, not hard enough to hurt.

You two had been milling back and forth waiting for Jisung, and you looked back over at the bench where you’d all been tying up your skates to find him still sitting there, fiddling with the laces.

Chenle followed your gaze. “What is he doing? He had them tied when I got up, I thought he was right behind me.”

You shrugged, exiting the ice to stop in front of Jisung on the bench. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just—” Jisung swallowed, squinting and scrunching up his nose nervously. “I’ve only been ice skating once, and I was a kid, so…”

“You don’t know how,” you finished.

“I mean—Yes.”

“Come on.” You offered out your arm out to him.

He waved his hands as he refused. “I’m going to do something stupid like fall and end up breaking your arm or—”

“No, it’ll be fine,” you assured him. “Seriously, I did ice skating lessons as a kid.”

“You did?”

“You’re in good hands, I promise.”

Jisung grabbed your arm, and using both you and the bench as leverage, stood up. He looked around warily as you patted his back.

“There you go, you got it. Now, you get to walk until you get to the ice.” As you coached him through the basics of operating his skates, you slowly guided him closer to the edge of the ice. You stepped onto the ice first, keeping a hold on both of his gloved hands for him to cautiously join you, one foot at a time.

“You didn’t think to tell us you’ve never skated?” Chenle questioned dryly as he joined you two.

“I have!” Jisung defended himself. “Once…”

“Well Y/N can teach you,” he offered you up. “She used to do lessons, till she got kicked out.”

“Wait, for what?”

You rolled your eyes at your brother just having to bring that up. Nudging Jisung forward to start moving his legs, you began relaying the story, “I called my coach a bitch to her face and refused to apologize.”

“Just because or…?”

“First of all, I was seven, so impulse control wasn’t even in my vocabulary. Second of all, she called another little girl in the class fat to her face! She had just gotten a new competition dress, it was this really pretty purple one with sparkles and stuff all over it, and the teacher told her she shouldn’t wear it because something about the pattern made her look bigger or something ridiculous. A seven-year-old! She’s just lucky she didn’t get an ice skate to the face!” Your rant picked up steam and volume as you continued, feeling freshly pissed off as you recalled the incident.

Jisung frowned, looking troubled as well. “That’s awful.”

“I know! Honestly, I’m glad I got kicked out. I hated that woman.” You pulled him away from a divot in the ice. “Watch out. Don’t want your blade getting caught in that.”

“Thanks. You seem to have retained a lot.”

“I didn’t get very far before I was booted,” you scoffed. “But I guess we still went to rinks and out here pretty frequently, so I haven’t lost the basics, at least.”

“So are we decorating the tree later?”

“Yep, should take the rest of the day.”

“Seriously?”

“We’ve got a lot of ornaments.” You snickered at his wide eyes, looking to your other side where Chenle had been skating for confirmation. Instead, your brother had disappeared. Confused, you scanned the figures on the ice, finally spotting him far ahead of you, skating backwards at an impressive speed. “He left us.”

Jisung finally detached his eyes from where they’d been glued on his feet, chuckling when he saw Chenle as well. “He’s not very patient, is he?”

“Not a virtue he was born with, no.” You turned your attention back to Jisung. “Think you’re getting the hang of it?”

His grip tightened on your arm. “If I say yes, are you going to let go of me?”

“No,” you laughed. “Not until you’re ready.”

“Oh, thank God.”

“But let’s try this.” You moved to hold both his hands, skating backwards in front of him. “Okay?”

“You can’t see behind you,” he said, nervously glancing between your face and over your shoulder.

You checked over your shoulder. It was clear, and you redirected your path to make sure you weren’t heading directly at the next closest people. “I’ve got it.”

“I feel like I’m leaning forward too much, how do I—Wah!” The distinct clank of Jisung’s skates hitting each other rang out, and he fell forward.

Not wanting him to faceplant into your skates or the ice, you braked and tensed your arms to try to keep him up. However, since you had braked and he obviously did not, his forward momentum sent him catapulting directly into you. His arms wrapped around your waist as his legs scrambled against the ice trying to find his footing again. You readjusted your hold on him to clutch him under the arms in an attempt to keep him up, but with all the layers that you were bundled up in and the slippery ice, it was a losing battle. You were a good skater, but you couldn’t haul him back to his feet like this. So you decided to just let the two of you slowly descend, squatting down until you could plant your butt on the ice and kick your feet out on either side of Jisung, careful not to hit him with your blades.

“You alright?” You asked him, pulling his beanie back from where it was entirely obscuring his eyes.

“Please tell me I’m dead,” he groaned, the half of his face that you could see was completely pink and his eyes were squeezed shut. His head was pressed against your middle as he was still clinging onto you.

“No, you survived that,” you laughed. “And so did I. No broken arms or other bones.”

“Will you kill me anyway?”

A spray of ice showered both of you as Chenle stopped next to you guys, proceeding to double over with laughter. “Clumsy ass.”

“Nice, thank you,” you scoffed, wiping off the cold ice from your face, then a couple drops that had gotten on Jisung’s cheek. “Anytime you’d like to quit being an asshole and help us up.”

“I don’t know, you two look pretty cozy to me.”

Jisung somehow turned even redder, squirming in your grasp. “Y/N, I’m sorry!”

“Chenle, shut up!” You scolded your brother. “You’re making Jisung freak out and he’s going to hurt himself!”

“You make him sound like a scared prey animal,” he snickered. Letting out a sigh, he patted his friend’s back. “Alright, Jisung, come on.”

With Chenle’s assistance, Jisung got to his feet, and you were then able to stand back up on your own. Brushing snow off your legs, you shivered, and saw that the entire front of Jisung’s pants were soaked through thanks to the ice, and you could feel that the back of your own had suffered a similar fate.

“I think that’s enough ice skating for today,” you declared. “My ass is quite literally going to freeze off if we stay out here any longer.”

Jisung nodded quickly from where he was clinging onto Chenle to stay upright now. “I’m skated out.”

“Good thing my car has heated seats then,” Chenle said, beginning to drag his friend back towards the exit.

After a hot shower and in a fresh change of warm pajamas, you were in front of the Christmas tree with all of the boxes of decorations for it. You had already wound the lights around it when Jisung joined you in the living room, hair still damp from his shower—he’d given you first shower out of guilt.

“Hey, you know where Chenle is?” You asked, flipping open boxes of ornaments. Chenle’s loft bedroom had a private bathroom, so you figured he’d be out by now.

“He got a call—Mark, I think,” Jisung informed you.

“Oh, that’ll take an hour,” you snorted. “You can help me. Put any ornaments that have Chenle’s name on them aside, he gets to put those up whenever he’s done.”

“Any ornaments with your name are yours to put up?” He guessed, reaching into a box and pulling out an ornament in the shape of a bear with a Santa hat on. The white band of the hat had ‘Chenle’ written in cursive.

“Yep. Everything else is fair game for you. Quick tip, any bear ornaments will be Chenle’s. That’s his parent-assigned motif.”

“Got it. And what’s yours?”

You held up the honeybee ornament that you’d just fished out, letting it dangle and twist in the air, the yellow gems catching the light. “Bees. They had a theme, kind of.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.” He reached up to hang a blue and gold ornament on a higher branch, though you could feel his eyes on you as you put your own up on a middle branch. Finally, he blurted out, “Are you sure you didn’t get hurt earlier?”

“Yeah, Jisung, I’m okay,” you chuckled. “Really, we were both wearing so many layers we were practically bubblewrapped.”

He visibly relaxed. “Okay, good.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. But I crashed into you, not the other way around.”

“True, but you had a much less graceful descent.”

He visibly grimaced, a bashful smile on his face. “Mm-hm. Thank you for bringing that up again.”

“Pretty sure you brought it up again,” you teased, nudging his arm with yours as you reached in front of him to hang an ornament.

“And I would love to change the topic now.” He grabbed an ornament in the shape of a snowman.

“What’s your major?” You decided to save him this time. “You and Chenle had bio lab together, but I know he took bio for non-majors, so you’re not a STEM major either…”

Jisung made a buzzer noise, and you blinked at him in surprise. He cracked a grin as he said, “Cybersecurity.”

“Ah, so you’re a baseball jock and a little computer geek…” You nodded slowly, grabbing another ornament. “The duality of man, truly.”

“Geek?” He repeated incredulously.

“What? I think it’s cute.” You giggled and put up the glass snowflake in your hand. Then, you turned back to him hopefully. “Ooh, actually, my laptop gets possessed sometimes ever since Chenle clicked on one of those sketchy porn pop-up ads when we were fourteen. You don’t think you would be able to take a look at it sometime, would you?”

Jisung visibly sustained whiplash at your words, his head jerking back and eyes going wide before he furrowed his brows. “Wait, what? How old is your laptop? He did what to it? What do you mean it gets possessed? What exactly does it do?”

“Uhm… it’d probably be easier to show you.”

“Y/N, this thing is old enough to drive.”

You put your hands on either side of your laptop’s screen as if you were covering its ears, giving Jisung a stern look. “Sh! You’re going to hurt her feelings!”

He continued to look at you over his glasses, entirely unamused. This was the first time you’d seen him wear them—even in the library, he’d had contacts in. Now, with him wearing his casual clothes, glasses, sitting on your bed and attempting to fix your laptop, you felt like you were going to lose it, truly. Especially when you’d catch a whiff of his shampoo, and you’d have to stop yourself from leaning in to follow the smell of cinnamon.

“Seriously, why do you still have it? Chenle has the newest Macbook,” he asked, fingers flitting across the keyboard.

“Because it works fine!” You insisted, removing your hands. “I get the internal stuff cleaned out regularly, and make sure all the software is updated and everything.”

“It still gets software updates?”

“It just… gets possessed every so often.”

“I wouldn’t call the occasional possession ‘working fine.’”

“When it’s not possessed, it works great! And it doesn’t even happen that much, only like, once a month.”

“Once a month since you were fourteen?” He squinted at you in disbelief where you were sitting on the opposite side of the laptop screen. “And you kept the damn thing?”

“No, once a month now,” you clarified. “It happened the first time when Chenle clicked on that porn ad, then maybe once a year for a few years after, and slowly started happening more and more often.”

“And he was watching porn on your computer because…?”

“So it wouldn’t be on his internet history.”

He snorted. “Of course. I should’ve realized.”

“Can I watch?”

“Oh, uhm, sure?” He readjusted to make room to his left side on the mattress, angling the laptop that way as well.

You shuffled around to the other side of the computer, dropping to lay down on your front, propping your chin up with your elbows to observe. Tilting your head, you rested it against Jisung’s knee that was next to you. His hands froze over the keys, and you lifted your head back up, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Sorry—Is this okay?”

“Y-Yeah, you’re fine.” He nodded quickly and pushed his glasses up as he returned his attention to the screen.

Leaning your head back against his knee, you settled in to watch him work on your laptop. You couldn’t follow what exactly he was doing to the computer, opening and closing different windows, folders, and applications. You zoned out, watching his hands and fingers deftly move over the keys instead. He was muttering to himself under his breath, his low voice pleasant to listen to even if you couldn’t make out the words he was saying. This close to him, you could smell the cinnamon better, and were starting to think that maybe it was actually a body wash or cologne.

“Y/N?” He said your name, making you snap out of a daze as you realized he was calling for you. “Hello?”

“Hm?” You perked up a little.

“We need to do an exorcism.”

That woke you all the way back up. “Wait, what?”

“Complete reset. Wipe everything and redownload the OS.”

“But I have everything on there!” You pleaded, stretching your hands over the keyboard to prevent him from doing anything else. “We’ve been through so much together! You can’t kill her!”

He sighed regretfully. “Is there an electronics store or something around here? We can get an external hard drive to back up all your personal stuff.”

“There’s a mall like an hour away. Chenle and I need to go gift shopping anyway so we can go tomorrow!”

“Why did I hear my name?” Chenle’s voice came from further down the hallway. He must have finished his call with Mark. Your brother poked his head into your room, briefly pausing when he saw you and Jisung. “I thought you guys were decorating the tree…?”

“Remember how you downloaded a virus trying to watch porn on my computer in high school? Jisung is fixing it for me,” you said pointedly, never missing an opportunity to bring that moment up. “But we need to buy something. I was telling him you and I need to go gift shopping anyway, so we can all go to that mall tomorrow.”

“Please tell me the thing you’re buying is a new laptop.”

“Never! She’s going to outlive you if I have anything to do with it!”

“Based off the fact that it sounds like a jet engine taking off right now, I’m pretty sure that was a threat on my life.”

MONDAY, DECEMBER 23

“Okay, so you’ll need at least this much storage for the files that you have right now,” Jisung explained, motioning to a few different options of hard drives that the electronics store had. He then gestured to a few more. “But if you really want to have her until Chenle’s dead, you might want to consider some more storage.”

You grinned, bumping his shoulder affectionately. “You said ‘her.’”

He covered his mouth as he let out a sputtering laugh, his cheeks turning pink. “Oh God—I didn’t even realize. That’s—Ah, you’re rubbing off on me.”

“I like that one,” you declared, pointing to one hard drive that was a similar colorway to the laptop case you had.

“Yeah, that’s more than enough storage.”

After purchasing your hard drive, you and Jisung headed out of the electronics store together. Chenle had already gone off to gift shop on his own so you and Jisung couldn’t see what he bought you.

You turned to Jisung. “Want to help me shop for Chenle?”

“Sure.”

The two of you meandered around the mall, popping into stores that seemed promising from the outside. As you passed by a jewelry display in a window, you tapped on the glass in front of a pair of earrings.

“Those are cute,” you commented, slowing down but not stopping entirely.

“You think so?” Jisung questioned, looking at them over your shoulder as you kept walking.

“Mhm.” You nodded, then clicked your tongue. “I’d get them, but I already have a pair like them.”

“You do?”

“Yep.” Keeping your gaze on the passing storefronts, you said levelly, “I don’t want to assume anything about what you think of me, Jisung, but I want you to know that I don’t expect a present from you. We only properly met two days ago.”

“Yeah, that’s… really reasonable,” he chuckled, the relief evident in his voice.

“Seriously, if you fix my computer, that’ll be the best Christmas present I get this year, hands-down. I don’t care what expensive crap my parents get me or surprisingly thoughtful, niche thing Chenle somehow manages to find.”

“I didn’t realize how much my computer exorcism skills were worth.”

“To me, they’re priceless,” you assured him. “I wish I had something to offer in return.”

“Hey, you already taught me how to skate,” he insisted, nudging your arm.

You tilted your head side-to-side contemplatively. “One could argue whether I was successful at that…”

“Completely my fault that the lesson got cut short, not yours.”

“Alright, alright. I suppose a computer exorcism can be our quid pro quo for ten minutes of ice-skating lessons.”

“I didn’t pay much attention in my high school history class when Mr. Yoo was talking about the bartering system, but I’m pretty sure those two things are equivalent, yeah.”

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut as you started to go a little light-headed from how hard you were laughing. You were still walking forward alongside Jisung, and felt him grab your arm and tug you towards him at the same time he warned, “Watch out.”

You couldn’t see whatever you must’ve almost walked into as you were still trying to sober up from your chuckle fest, covering your face as more giggles bubbled up every time you tried to close your mouth. Jisung kept you right next to him, guiding you through the mall crowd with a gentle but steadfast grasp on your arm, not letting you bump into anybody or trip over anything.

“Are you really still laughing?” He asked, and though his words were exasperated, his tone was overly fond, letting out a soft laugh of his own at the end. “I don’t think it was that funny…”

You narrowed your eyes playfully at him, shook his hand off you, and suppressed your giggles to say, “Fine. I don’t think you’re funny at all and I hate you, actually.”

Jisung’s mouth parted as he stared at you in shock, and you couldn’t keep the bit going for very long when faced with his adorable look of being totally caught off-guard and floored, even if both of you knew it was all a joke. You grabbed his arm this time, your laughs getting muffled in his sweater as you buried your face in his shoulder and leaned against him for support.

“Oh my god, you looked like I ran over your dog or something!” You gasped for air between guffaws, apologetically rubbing his arm.

“You’re…” He trailed off, letting out a sigh instead, reaching for your purse that was on your arm and now awkwardly crushed between you two with you holding his arm. “Here, I’ll take that.”

He had already been carrying your shopping bags that you’d been acquiring from the various stores, and you now stopped to wordlessly shimmy off your purse for him to shoulder on his opposite side from you. You reattached yourself to his arm that you had been holding, and though his cheeks were turning pink, he had a small smile on his face as he looked down at his phone to check the time.

“Did your family assign you an animal too?” You asked him, your eyes getting caught on a kiosk of Christmas ornaments as you continued your journey through the mall.

“What?”

“Like how my parents decided when we were born that Chenle’s a bear and I’m a honeybee,” you explained, quickly looking back over to Jisung. “Did you ever have an animal or something that was like yours?”

He scrunched his nose as he thought, then shook his head. “No, not that I can remember. I always had a bunch of different stuffed animals.”

“I think you look like a hamster,” you informed him. “Especially when you do that with your nose.”

“Do what with my nose?” He questioned, his nose unintentionally twitching and scrunching up again as his eyes flitted around nervously.

You giggled, squeezing his arm tighter as you couldn’t help but coo over how cute he was. “That!”

He covered his nose with his hand, and though it obstructed half his face, you could tell he was pouting behind it.

“I didn’t mean to make you self-conscious, I’m sorry!” You apologized, grabbing his hand and trying to pull it away from his face. “I think it’s really cute!”

He stubbornly kept his nose concealed. “You still haven’t told me what it is…”

“You just scrunch up your nose sometimes, like this—” You imitated it, doing your best not to make it look like you were mocking him. “Seriously, it’s adorable! Please don’t ever stop, I might die!”

Jisung’s eyes crinkled and he dropped his hand back down as he chuckled. “Well we can’t have that.”

Your phone buzzed in your hand then, and you saw that it was your brother calling. “Mm, hold on, it’s Chenle.”

“Hey, where are you guys?” Chenle asked on the other end.

“We’re still on the first floor,” you told him. “By the pretzel stand. Where are you?”

“What have you two been doing? I’m on the third floor; I’ve been through the whole mall already. I’m done,” he scoffed. “Stay there, I’ll come to you.”

“I had to get my hard drive first, remember? You got a head start.”

“Anyway, are you done?”

“No, I have a couple more people to find gifts for.”

“Alright, hold on, I see you.”

You craned your neck looking for Chenle, still with your phone to your ear. “Damn bitch, how many old ladies did you take out on your way here?”

“Only two,” Chenle’s voice came through your phone and from directly beside you at the same time. He was loaded up with shopping bags on both arms.

You jumped out of your skin before rolling your eyes and hanging up the call. “Did you see a place that sold bath bombs and stuff?”

“Yeah, second floor, directly to the left off the escalator.”

“That’s my next stop, SooSoo loves that stuff,” you declared.

“There’s a baseball specialty shop on the third floor,” Chenle stated, eyes lingering on where you were still holding onto his friend’s arm. “If you want to go check it out, Jisung?”

You perked up, giving him an enthusiastic smile. “That sounds awesome! You totally should.”

Jisung turned to Chenle and nodded. “Yeah, sounds cool. Let’s do it.”

“I’ve still got a couple people on my list, so I’ll call you guys when I’m done so we can meet up and go,” you said, reaching for your purse that was still on Jisung’s shoulder. He handed it back to you, and you hurried off to take care of your final errands.

Back at the house, you watched on with bated breath as Jisung performed his laptop exorcism. The screen turned on, which already was good news. After a few more progress bars, you eventually saw your homescreen and looked at him with guarded hope.

“I still need to transfer your personal files back over. And you won’t know if it worked unless it just never gets possessed again, but…” Jisung gestured to your laptop with a certain finality.

“Ahh, thank you! Thank you!” You cheered, hugging him.

“O-Oh, you’re welcome,” he mumbled, hesitantly hugging you back.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 24

Christmas Eve was ushered in with a fresh snowfall overnight, and maybe the Christmas spirit finally possessed you, because all three of you were outside playing in it like little kids. A rather lumpy snowman had already been built and decorated with various rocks, sticks, and kitchen utensils. Snow angels were scattered around, and Chenle had just thrown the very first snowball, hitting Jisung squarely in the back of the head.

You laughed incredulously as the pitcher turned around and calmly started packing snow between his hands.

“Are you stupid?” You snickered at your brother, who was also preparing another snowball.

Before he could finish readying that one, Jisung wound up and launched his snowball, nailing Chenle in the face. You weren’t even focused on your brother as he desperately wiped the snow off his face with both hands, however, your eyes still watching Jisung, who was chuckling to himself. You’d been too preoccupied at the Christmas tree farm to really watch any of their snowfall fight that had happened there, and obviously hadn’t gone to any of Jisung’s games before, so this was the first time you’d seen him really use any of his pitcher skills. While it wasn’t a proper pitch, the practiced ease and skill that he clearly possessed even in doing something as silly as throwing a snowball was admittedly really attractive.

Chenle had taken his loss and grabbed a stick to start writing something in the snow, a good distance away from where you and Jisung were, his back to the two of you.

Stepping deliberately closer to Jisung, you said, “That was really cool, Jisung.”

He fidgeted with making sure his beanie was down over his ears. “Ah, I mean, it wasn’t a real pitch or anything—”

“Then can you teach me how to pitch for real?” You requested sweetly. “I’m very into baseball these days.”

“Uhm, y-yeah,” he agreed, clearing his throat and nodding. He stooped down to pack more snow between his hands into a round sphere, then held it out for you. “Here, that should be the right size.”

You graciously accepted it, then looked at him expectantly.

“Do you prefer to throw with your left or your right?” He asked.

You held up your dominant hand holding the snowball, and he nodded.

“Okay, uhm, you should stand with your feet like this.” He demonstrated the correct positioning himself, and you copied.

Jisung went through the basic steps with you, making minor adjustments here and there, and you were actually finding it sort of interesting, outside of the cute boy teaching you something he was passionate about. Learning a new skill or something to that effect. When he was showing you how to actually move your arm when throwing, you were genuinely trying to do it per his verbal instructions, but apparently there was still something wrong with the way you were doing it. And so he walked behind you, covering your gloves hand with his. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, and his other hand grabbed your opposite shoulder to correct your posture as he manually moved your arm through the correct motion. Slow at first, talking through it.

“Feel how it’s different than what you were doing?” He asked, doing it again, a little faster this time.

But you were long gone, your brain white noise and your vision blurring a little bit (but that was mostly due to the cold wind hitting your eyes). He still smelled like cinnamon, and you wanted to listen to his voice all day. Jisung could read you a car manufacturer’s manual for all you cared.

“Mm, mhm,” you agreed absentmindedly.

“Alright, I’m going to step back and let you throw your first pitch.” He patted your shoulder and did just that, leaving you feeling even colder.

You momentarily panicked as you grappled in your short-term memory for anything that he had just been saying. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, deciding that you would probably suck anyway, and to just fucking do it. Trusting your gut and muscle memory of what Jisung had just been walking you through, you did your damndest to throw that snowball in something akin to a pitch.

Amazingly, the snowball actually hit the trunk of the tree that you had been aiming for, and you stared at it in disbelief, hands hanging down by your side. Jisung clapped, the sound dampened by his gloves, but his cheers were surprisingly upbeat for how soft-spoken of a guy he was.

“Wow! That was a really good first pitch!” He congratulated you, holding up both his palms for you to high-five. “So awesome…”

You high-fived him, but stayed holding onto his hands, wide smile overtaking your features. “Thank you.”

“I—You’re welcome.” He held onto your hands too, throat bobbing up and down as he swallowed.

“Jisung!” Chenle yelled out, reminding the both of you of his presence. “Can you get my phone? I made Daegal out of snow and I want to take a picture. It should be charging on my bed.”

“Yeah!” Jisung called back. He gave you a regretful look, letting your hands go to trudge back up to the cabin.

Rounding on your brother, you stomped over to him, observing the admittedly cute snow-Daegal for a moment before addressing him.

“You can get your own phone,” you scoffed, crossing your arms.

“I thought I might hurt Jisung’s feelings if I told him to leave to his face,” Chenle replied nonchalantly. He looked at you over his large-framed sunglasses. “I feel like I have to warn you, as your big brother—”

“By ten months.”

“—about Jisung.”

You gave him a sour look, knowing that he knew that you wouldn’t be able stop yourself from asking a follow-up question to a statement like that. “What about him?”

“I know what you’ve been trying to do this whole time. You’re not ‘very into baseball,’ you’re into Jisung.”

You immediately got fired up, hands balling into fists at your sides. “Don’t you dare start pulling the ‘my friends are off-limits’ card now. You’ve never—”

“Hey, I like Jisung.” He held up his hands defensively, an amused smirk on his face. “If I had to make a tierlist of my friends for you to date, he’d be like, the only one in S-tier.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Do you have a fantasy draft of boyfriends for me too?”

“I’m genuinely trying to help you here, alright?”

“So, what? Does he have a girlfriend or something?”

“Not exactly…” Chenle sighed. “Right before we left, during finals week, he met this girl in the library and just absolutely fell head-over-heels, okay? Like, he’s never even looked once at all the girls who show up to his games, but this one says three words to him and gives him some candy and he’s a goner. I don’t get it.”

It took everything in you to suppress your giddy grin and instead cock your head, playing dumb as you asked, “Wait, did he even get this girl’s name?”

“No, he never got a chance since they were both working on finals stuff,” he answered. “Anyway, I’m just trying to warn you. You’ve got to compete with the romanticized version of mystery library candy girl that he has in his head.”

“Mm. Tough competition,” you nodded with mock solemnity.

“I’m serious, Y/N. He called me at like midnight walking back from the library to tell me about it. He’s got it bad.” As if suddenly realizing everything he had just told you might dampen your spirits, Chenle’s entire demeanor shifted, and he gingerly patted the top of your head. “But uh, you’ve totally got this. I’m rooting for you, lil sis.”

“Right. Thanks… big bro,” you replied with intentional stiltedness, softballing a punch to his shoulder.

That night after dinner, you all sat down around the Christmas tree for your family tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve. You sifted through the presents under the tree, some of which were ones that had been shipped here ahead of time by your parents or other extended family, others from Chenle.

“Hmm… one or two?” You asked, your eyes on two particular gifts.

“One,” Chenle and Jisung answered unanimously.

You grabbed the one that had been under your left hand, returning to your seat next to Jisung. Chenle had already picked his box, and fished out a gift bag, plopping it in front of Jisung. He seemed surprised, blinking down at it.

“But—”

“I got you more than one gift, dummy,” Chenle cut him off, already guessing what his confusion was about. “Go ahead.”

“No!” You stopped Jisung. He looked at you with alarm as you snatched the gift bag away, putting it back under the tree and replacing it with a different, much smaller one instead. “Open mine.”

Jisung looked even more confused, and slightly betrayed. “I thought we agreed we weren’t doing gifts…?”

“Yeah, but then I saw this and…” You smiled sheepishly. “Just open it!”

Shaking his head, he pulled out the tissue paper, then removed the object at the bottom of the bag. It was wrapped in more tissue paper to protect it, which he carefully wrapped, revealing the ornament that you had bought yesterday while you were split up. It was in the shape of a hamster popping out of a present box, and as soon as you saw it at the mall kiosk, you knew you had to get it for him.

Jisung turned it over his hands, looking up at you still a little confused, but with a smile. “Wait…”

“It looks just like you!” You giggled, taking it from him to hold it up next to his face. Aiming your next question at Chenle, you asked, “Doesn’t it?”

Your brother started laughing, reaching forward to tweak one of Jisung’s cheeks. “Ha, she’s right. How adorable.”

Jisung pushed his hand away, rolling his eyes. His gaze softened when he looked back over at you. “Thank you, Y/N. It’s great.”

“Hang it up!” You urged, giving it back to him and gesturing to the tree.

He got up on his knees to reach forward and affix it to an empty branch, between a bear ornament and honeybee ornament.

“Okay, Y/N, you next,” Chenle directed.

Ripping the wrapping paper off the small box, you were met with a small jewelry box, and took that lid off. Inside was a pair of ornate, bejeweled earrings, a little flashy for your taste. You checked the card.

“Great-Aunt Ying,” you announced, and Chenle let out an ‘ahh’ sound in understanding. You put the lid back on the box and set it aside. “SooSoo will love those.”

“Who’s that?” Jisung asked curiously as your brother started unwrapping his present. “Not your great-aunt.”

“Sooyoung, my roommate since freshman year,” you explained. “She’s also like, my best friend. And those earrings aren’t really my style, but I know she would wear them like, all the time, so I’ll just give them to her when we get back.”

Chenle’s box was a bit larger than yours had been, and was similarly stylish. He turned it over to shake the lid off and make the contents fall out all in one go, catching the fabric that fell out in his hand. Holding it up, it was a tie in what looked like a nice material, a monochrome and not exceptionally busy pattern on it.

“Another tie, wonder who it’s from…” he snorted, picking up the card. “Oh, Great-Uncle Feng. Surprise.”

“Does he think you’re eating all the ties he gives you or something?” You snickered.

“I think he’s so old he forgets he’s given me a tie before and thinks I don’t own any.” Chenle then offered it out to Jisung. “You need a tie? If not, I’ll ask the other guys.”

“I would need a suit first…” Jisung admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Chenle stared at him in disbelief, then sighed. “Okay, so we’re getting you a suit when we get back to school.”

“What do I need a suit for?”

“Don’t you have formal stuff that you have to go to for baseball? Awards or press conferences or something?”

“That’s maybe once a year. I just rent a suit!”

“Jisung, don’t say another word, you’re going to kill me.” He put a hand over his heart as if it were going to give out any second.

You chuckled at their antics, starting to clean up the trashed wrapping paper. “Christmas movies?”

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 25

You felt like a little kid, unable to sleep the night before Christmas morning. It was after midnight, so it technically was Christmas now. And even thought you knew that neither Santa nor you parents were coming, you were still oddly giddy. You had already videocalled Sooyoung to recap the developments of the day, but you were still replaying everything in your mind, kept up with thought of Jisung. How it felt being that close to him when he was teaching you to throw a snowball, the information that apparently he was just as smitten with you after the library as you were with him. Even Chenle’s unofficial blessing put your mind at ease—not because your brother determined who you dated, but he knew Jisung better than you did and was brutally honest, so if he said that he liked Jisung for you, you knew he meant it.

Pushing your covers off, goosebumps immediately popped up on your legs that were now exposed to the cool air. You treaded over to the bathroom door. The light was off, but you still knocked. When there was no response, you opened it. You didn’t stop there, however, continuing on to the opposite door, which you knew led to Jisung’s room. Taking a deep breath, you knocked softly on that one too.

You heard the rustling of sheets and quiet padding of footsteps before the door handle twisted and opened, Jisung on the other side. He looked down at you, nose scrunched up in bewilderment.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked, rubbing one of his eyes behind his glasses.

“Yeah. Uhm, sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, I uh, I couldn’t sleep, actually.”

“Me neither.”

“Oh.”

There was a pause, and you fidgeted with the ends of your longsleeve. “Do you want to hang out for a bit? Since we’re both up…”

“Oh! Y-Yeah, sure.” He stepped back from the door, motioning you in. “Uhm, come in.”

“Thanks.” You stepped inside, and he closed the door behind you.

The bedsheets were rumpled on one side, so you sat down on the other side, pulling the blanket over your chilly legs. Jisung watched you, frozen halfway from the bathroom to the bed for a second.

“I’m cold,” you told him, turning your phone on.

“Of course, right,” he breathed out, snapping out of his trance.

He climbed under the covers as well, putting a headphone in his ear opposite from you and pressing play on a video on his phone. Curious, you peeked over at his screen to see what he was watching. It looked like a bunch of clips of professional baseball pitchers.

“It’s my favorite pro pitcher,” Jisung blurted out, pausing the video again. He had apparently noticed you snooping at his screen. “Well, that’s currently active. He’s a lefty, and he does this thing on some of his pitches where he gets this spin and—”

You blinked as he had abruptly cut himself off in the middle of his sentence. Tilting your head, you asked, “What? Why’d you stop?”

“You’re not really interested in baseball, are you?” He questioned, turning his eyes down to his lap. “You’re just being nice.”

“Hold on—”

“It’s okay, you can go back to what you were doing, I don’t want to bore you.”

“Jisung,” you giggled, turning over on your side fully to face him. “You really haven’t figured it out?”

His brow furrowed and he pouted slightly as he seemed to genuinely be confused. “Figured what out?”

“I’m interested in baseball because I’m interested in you,” you said bluntly, watching the gears turn in his head before his eyes widened.

“Wh—Oh. Really?”

“Mhm. But Chenle did warn me that apparently you’re head over heels for some mystery girl that you met in the library during finals week who gave you candy,” you teased, letting out a wistful sigh. “So I have no chance…”

Jisung dropped his phone to cover his face with both hands, letting out a noise of embarrassment from deep in his chest, shaking his head. “Oh my God…”

“I told SooSoo about you too,” you informed him. “After the library.”

He opened his hands to peek at you meekly. “Really?”

“Really.”

Jisung glanced upwards, and you snickered.

“Chenle’s not like that. He’s not going to care unless you’re a dick to me.”

“Because only he gets to be a dick to you?” He joked, slowly removing his hands all the way from his face.

“Yep. Same for the girls he dates. Nobody gets to be a bitch to him except me.”

“So, now what?” He asked nervously, glancing around the room.

“Now, you’re going to finish telling me about your favorite pitcher,” you stated, scooting over until you were snuggled into his side, head resting on his shoulder so you could see his phone screen better.

Jisung grabbed his earbud case from the nightstand, bringing the other one out. He offered it to you, and you put it in as he turned his phone back on. He restarted the compilation, but didn’t press play yet, instead launching back into his explanation from before, excitedly talking faster now.

“So this is Hwang Myungjun. Like I said, he’s my favorite pitcher that’s in the league right now. He’s a lefty and—you’ll see it in this video, but—he does this really cool thing on some of his pitches where he can get this certain spin on the ball and…”

You listened to him go on and on with a smile on your face, breathing in the warm smell of cinnamon.

In the morning, you stirred a little, sighing and pulling the covers up to your nose. Covers that smelled like cinnamon. Opening one of your eyes, you were greeted with Jisung already wide awake, sitting up against the headboard, staring at you from behind his glasses.

You rubbed your eye and yawned. “Christ—Did you sleep at all?”

“Yeah, we get up early for baseball conditioning, so I don’t really sleep in even on days off.” He rubbed the back of his neck, ears turning pink. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Good morning…”

“Morning,” you mumbled, yawning again. “Sorry for falling asleep here.”

“It’s okay. Sorry for talking you to sleep.”

“No, it was nice. I like your voice.” You pushed yourself into a half-sitting position. Pecking his cheek, you added, “Merry Christmas.”

His face flushed as he smiled down at his hands. “Merry Christmas…”

Climbing out of bed, you stretched your arms over your head, then wrapped them around yourself. “Anyway, I should emerge from my own room. Just because he doesn’t care if we date doesn’t mean Chenle needs to think something other than watching baseball compilations happened in here last night.”

Jisung squeezed his eyes shut and nodded his head. “Good idea.”

“See you in a few.” You bid him a momentary farewell, opening the door to the adjoining bathroom.

Shuffling back into your own bedroom, you almost screamed when you saw a figure sitting on your bed in the dark. You grabbed for the closest thing in your reach, a candlestick on the dresser next to you, ready to swing. The figure turned on the lamp next to the bed, and you saw that it was Chenle, still contemplating hitting him anyway. You decided to set your weapon down, however.

“What the fuck?!” You hissed, stalking up to your bed and grabbing a stuffed animal to chuck at him instead. He caught the stuffed bee, holding it to his chest as he smirked at you.

“Something you want to tell me?” He raised an eyebrow. “About where you’ve been?”

You followed his line of sight between you and the bathroom door that you just came out of. “What are you, the piss patrol? Can’t a bitch pee in peace around here?”

“Toilet didn’t flush, sink didn’t run,” he immediately shot back. “Also, I’ve been in here for the past hour.”

“Don’t be weird about it—” You held up a finger in his face threateningly, and a victorious grin immediately spread across his features. “Jisung and I talked about how we felt, and I fell asleep in his room. Nothing else, okay?”

Chenle gave you a look that told you he didn’t entirely believe you, but he didn’t press you any further. “God, how am I going to choose between being your brother of honor and his best man?”

“We haven’t even gone on a date!” You grabbed a pillow and tried to pushed it over his face to shut him up. He narrowly saved himself from being smothered, cackling as you resorted to smacking him with it instead. “As if I’d even ask you to be my whatever you just made up! You’ll be lucky if you even get an invite, I swear to—”

The door to your room was thrown open from the bathroom, Jisung looking around the room wildly. “Y/N! Are—”

You stopped your assault on your brother to smile breathlessly at Jisung. “Oh. Hi.”

“I heard you yelling, I wanted to make sure…”

“I’m fine,” you reassured him. “Thanks, Jisung.”

“I know!” Chenle announced loudly. “I know everything, Park Jisung! Last night, you and my little sister—”

You succeeded in smothering Chenle this time, muffling whatever obnoxious things he was about to spew.

After breakfast and opening presents in the morning, Jisung excused himself to go call his parents. Chenle tsked, turning the gaming console on to start up one of the new games he’d gotten and tossing you a controller.

“He tell you how he ended up coming with us?” Your brother asked, his gaze on the screen.

“Yeah. His dad goes on a cruise and his mom is with his stepdad’s side of the family. So he would’ve just been at the school if you didn’t bring him,” you replied, only paying half-attention to the opening cutscene.

“At least ours pretend to make an effort,” he scoffed. “His mom didn’t even offer to pay for his plane ticket.”

“Hm?”

“His mom and stepdad live on the other side of the country. They technically ‘invite’ him to Christmas every year, but he’d have to get himself there and back.”

“So it’s hardly a genuine invite.”

“And you know what his stepdad does?”

“What?”

“CEO of that logistics company that Mom and Dad are always talking about. The big one.”

“Shit, really? And he can’t be bothered to pay for his wife to see her own son once a year?”

He clicked his tongue. “Apparently not.”

A few levels into the video game, Chenle’s phone lit up with a text. He paused the game, and sighed upon reading the message. “Jisung says we can eat lunch without him. He’s suddenly not feeling well.”

You winced. “I take it his phone calls didn’t go well.”

“You go check on him. You can handle crying people better than me.”

You nodded in agreement, getting up from the couch. Outside of Jisung’s bedroom door, you listened carefully first, just in case he was still on a call. It was quiet, and you knocked softly.

“Jisung?” You called out. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” he replied, his voice sounding far away.

Opening the door, you saw him laying on the bed on top of his covers, his back to the door. You stayed in the doorway, asking, “Do you want to be alone?”

“No.”

You sat down on the bed behind him, still giving him his space. “Do you want to talk or do you want quiet?”

“My dad didn’t even pick up,” he muttered. “And my mom—God, I got to tell her about school for all of five seconds before she started gushing about how her grandbabies are learning how to write or whatever. I’ve never even met those kids, honestly, I don’t give a fuck about them. They’re not even her grandkids, they’re her husband’s. Apparently, one of them is on a little league baseball team. When she started saying I could teach him how to pitch when I come to visit for summer, I pretended the call was dropping and hung up. ‘When I come to visit’—I live with my dad in the summer because he didn’t move away from me.”

“I’m sorry, Jisung,” you said, feeling the hurt in your heart as his voice tightened and cracked.

“It’s funny, they used to have these-these blowout fights every year about who got me for Christmas,” he sniffled. “And now that they moved on and got their new families, they couldn’t care less about me.”

“Lucky for me and Chenle, then. Because we got you this year.”

He laughed, finally rolling over to face you. He wiped at his eyes, but you still saw the tears that had run down the side of his face. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do.” You gently stroked his hair, brushing some of it out of his face.

Jisung scooted closer, until he could pillow his head in your lap instead, his eyes fluttering shut as you resumed your ministrations. “I’m glad you guys got me too…”

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 26

A knock on your bedroom door woke you up. It opened, and somebody who was neither Chenle nor Jisung peered in.

“Merry Christmas, sweetie,” your mother hummed lightly. “Are you up?”

“Mm, yeah,” you grunted, pushing yourself up against your pillows.

She came over to press a kiss to your forehead. “Good morning.”

“Hi, Mom. Merry Christmas,” you smiled up at her, letting her take your hand in hers. “Did you and Dad just get here?”

“A few minutes ago. Your father’s getting Chenle.”

There was a loud thunk from above you, followed by a yelp and two very familiar and similar laughs that you recognized as your families’. You chuckled as your mom rolled her eyes fondly.

“I think he was successful,” you snickered.

“We’re going out for breakfast when you’re ready,” she informed you, squeezing your hand before letting it go.

“Mmkay.” You yawned as she headed for your door. “I’ll let Jisung know.”

She paused, tilting her head. “Who?”

“Didn’t Chenle tell you his friend was coming? Park Jisung?” You pointed at the room next door.

“Oh, I thought he was bringing Mark for some reason.” She looked at you with concern. “Does Jisung like basketball too?”

“I… don’t know? He plays baseball?”

“Oh. Hm.”

“So, what are you studying, Jisung?” Your mother asked, stirring sugar into her coffee.

The five of you were at a diner in the small town at the base of the mountain, you, Jisung, and Chenle packed into one side of a booth and your parents on the other. The car ride had been filled with you and Chenle filling your parents in on your various happenings from this semester, but now your parents seemed to have zeroed in on the newcomer.

“Cybersecurity,” he rushed to answer.

Both your parents seemed impressed by that. Your dad spoke next, “And what do your parents do?”

“He’s got an athletic scholarship, Dad,” Chenle cut in before you could. You both knew what he was really asking about.

“Full ride,” you added proudly. “Baseball. He’s the pitcher.”

“Really?” Your dad’s interest was piqued—he was a bigger sports fan than your brother.

“Yes, sir,” Jisung replied.

“The school doesn’t give out full athletic scholarships frequently. You know that?”

“No, sir, I-I didn’t know that.”

Your dad took a sip of his own coffee, regarding Jisung like he was evaluating his investment portfolio. “So what makes you so valuable?”

“W-Well, uhm, I-I don’t—”

“He’s ambidextrous,” you answered for him. “He can pitch with both hands.”

“Switch pitcher?” Your dad hummed thoughtfully. “You know who the best switch pitcher in the history of the league is, right?”

“Kim Beomjin, sir,” Jisung replied firmly.

“Has he passed your test, yet, Dad?” Chenle scoffed. “Come on, stop treating him like he’s interviewing at the company.”

“I was trying to get to know—”

“You were being a bit much, dear,” your mother interrupted your dad’s attempts to defend himself.

“Alright. My apologies, Jisung.”

“It’s fine, sir, really.”

You didn’t understand why your mother had asked if Jisung liked basketball until you got back to the house. Your parents had brought a few more presents with them, including, kindly, a couple for Jisung. Except they hadn’t been expecting Jisung, they had been expecting Mark, which evident in the gifts. Both Chenle and Mark loved basketball, so the matching jerseys for their favorite team would’ve made the perfect present, if it had been Mark receiving it.

“I’m so sorry, Jisung,” your mother kept apologizing, clearly embarrassed at the mistake.

“No, I-I like basketball too, ma’am,” he tried to reassure her.

“It’s a requirement for being my friend,” Chenle helped him out. “If only I could’ve made it a requirement for being my sister.”

“If we got to pick, I would’ve made not being annoying as fuck a requirement for being my brother,” you retorted.

“Language!” Your mom scolded you, at the same time that your dad warned Chenle to “Be nicer to your sister!”

Your parents were gone again after dinner, leaving in a flurry of hugs, kisses, and promises of celebrating Christmas together properly next year. As soon as he’d shut the door behind them, Chenle turned to you, cynical disbelief on his face already.

“No way,” he chuckled and shook his head. His phone rang then, and he tutted. “Gotta take this. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

Jisung was already in the living room, and you plopped down next to him on one of the couches, dropping your head into your hands.

“Your parents seem nice,” he said quietly.

“Mhm, they’re really great when they’re here,” you agreed bitterly. “Sort of makes it hurt worse. It’d be easy to just hate them if they left us all the time and changed plans last-minute and were awful when we did see them. But they do all that shit, and then I see them and it’s good. And it makes me start thinking that maybe it’ll be different, maybe they’ll really keep their promises next time.”

“I get that.” He seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. “But maybe this time you just don’t get your hopes up. Might be easier on you.”

“Yeah, probably.”

With a sigh, you sat up, turning into Jisung’s side and snaking your arms around his waist. He wrapped his arms around you as you buried your face in his chest, one hand cradling the back of your head. His other hand slowly rubbed your back, encouraging you to relax into his embrace even more.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 31

The morning of New Year’s Eve, the three of you were sitting around the kitchen table silently eating breakfast scrounged together from various leftovers and the singular grocery store trip you’d taken since Christmas. Then, there was a knock at the front door, and with your cereal spoon sticking out of your mouth, you gave Chenle and Jisung a bewildered look. They, however, didn’t seem put off at all.

“Y/N, can you go see who it is?” Chenle asked you, returning his gaze to his phone screen.

“Are you expecting someone?” You retorted. “You go answer it.”

The knocking came again, more insistent this time.

“Y/N! Just get it!” Chenle demanded loudly.

“Fine! Fine!” You got up, stomping over to the front door.

Opening the solid wood door, your jaw dropped when you saw six figures on the other side, before you were tackled in a hug by the one at the front.

“Surprise!” Sooyoung squealed, nearly squeezing the air out of your lungs.

“Soo!” You gasped, hugging her back. “What are you doing here?”

“We were invited!” Jaemin informed you cheerily, grabbing you for a bear hug next.

“We’d never pass up an invite to a Chenle-Y/N party,” Jeno’s eyes twinkled as he pecked the crown of your head.

“Especially a New Year’s Eve party,” Donghyuck added.

“Since when have we been throwing a New Year’s Eve party?” You spluttered, still in delighted shock as you took in all of your friends standing in your foyer.

Mark hugged you too. “Chenle texted us a couple days before Christmas to see if we could make it for New Year’s.”

You grabbed your roommate’s hand, bewildered the most by her presence. She wasn’t friends with Chenle or any of the other guys standing there, to your knowledge. “But how did you…?”

“Jisung’s idea,” Chenle had joined you all, standing at the threshold of the foyer with the baseball player. “We figured out that Renjun and Sooyoung were in a study group together this semester and…”

You’d spotted Huang Renjun, one of Chenle’s friends from college whom you’d met several times before, hanging back on the fringes of the group. You smiled at him before beelining for Jisung, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek a couple times in your excitement.

“Thank you!” You were smiling ear to ear, so much that your cheeks hurt, but you couldn’t help it.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” Jisung returned the hug, rubbing your back. “My late Christmas present to you.”

You let him go to hug your brother next, hooking your chin over his shoulder and squeezing him so tight you felt like your chest might burst, and you hoped he could feel how much all of this—how much he—meant to you. Despite everything you may say or do to each other. “Thanks, Chenle.”

“Of course,” he whispered, hugging you back just as tight.

“SooSoo, I’m serious, not that much has happened!” You promised, laying on your bed to watch as she got settled in your room. She had of course insisted that you filled her in on every details of everything that’s happened between you and Jisung, including things that she had already heard before since you two talked almost every night. “It’s only been like a week, and my brother is literally here.”

“We all saw those little cheek kisses earlier,” she replied pointedly. “You’re at least going to kiss him at midnight, right?”

“Maybe,” you giggled, quite literally kicking your feet as you thought about it. “Onto you—You just spent three hours in a car with them, have you figured out if you want me to set you up with Jeno or Jaemin?”

“We took two cars. I was in Renjun’s with Donghyuck,” she informed you with a desolate sigh.

“Why did you—”

“He offered because he knew I didn’t know anybody except him, and I didn’t know how to explain why I wanted to go in the other one!”

“Foiled once more by empathy and kindness.”

“I’ll figure it out before we go back to school!”

“Maybe you can get one of their numbers on your own before then.”

Despite the reputations that ‘Chenle-Y/N’ parties carried amongst your friends, and your friends also bringing enough alcohol to host a full-blown kegger, the event itself was pretty low-key. You’d gotten the firepit on the back porch going, food ordered, music going throughout the house, and had already completed several different games.

You were fixing yourself a cup of eggnog in the kitchen when you spotted someone out by the firepit. Pouring another mug, you took both out with you. Jisung looked up when he heard the back door open. He smiled as he recognized that it was you, scooting over on the bench to make room for you to sit with him.

“Eggnog?” You offered a cup out to him. “I didn’t spike it, but I can go add something in if you really want.”

“No, this is perfect,” he chuckled, his laughs rising as white wisps in the cold air. “I’ve been thinking…”

“About?”

“Were the three options hot chocolate, cider, and eggnog?”

It took you a second to catch up, but once you had recalled your first night in the mountains, you burst into laughter, nodding. “Yeah, those were the three options when I made you pick a number.”

He smiled, taking a sip of his drink. “There was something else, that I was thinking about.”

“Oh?”

“Are-Are we going to kiss at midnight? Do you want to? I know we haven’t gone on a real date or anything—”

“I do want to kiss you,” you admitted. “Do you?”

He nodded hurriedly. “Yes, god.”

“You still seem… fidgety. We can wait, if you—”

“That’s not it.” He set his cup of eggnog down, and you did as well. “I want to kiss you. I just don’t want the first time I do to be in front of a bunch of our friends.”

You smirked, tilting your head curiously. “Are you asking to practice before?”

He blinked. “I don’t think I was before, but I definitely am now.”

You snickered a little, leaning in and gently touching your lips to his in a feather-light kiss. He let out a small sigh against your lips, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek and pull you closer, sealing his mouth over yours. Everything was warm, no matter the fire or the cold wind or the thick jacket you were wearing, you were being heated from the inside out.

When Jisung pulled back, he had such a dazzlingly soft smile on his face that you couldn’t help but stare, wanting to burn that image in the back of your eyelids forever. He moved to duck his head shyly, but you grabbed his face.

“I think we might need some more practice before midnight,” you teased, nuzzling your nose with his affectionately.

“Mm, of course,” he agreed humorously, kissing you again. And again, and again, and again.

⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon

TAGLIST

@annenakamura @bee-the-loser @lotties-readings @ppddpjdr @reiofsuns2001

@classicroyalty @giirlfriendd @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01

@tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69

@winkeuu

[bucketbueckers]

LONG WAY DOWN

pairing: azzi fudd x fem!reader

content: angst w comfort, holly rowe, parent death, cancer, grief, language

wc: 4.9k

synopsis: You weren’t supposed to get drafted without your mother at your table. Life, however, had other plans, and you were just barely hanging on. You thought you’d be able to make it through the night but it was clear that a certain reporter had other plans, too. Luckily for you, your girlfriend was always willing to catch you before you crumbled.

notes: based on this request! thank you anon - hoping i did this justice for you 🫶 this is definitely one of my heavier fics so please read the content tags and be mindful. also, title from the one direction song. wasnt gonna drink tn but i miss them like a mf. let me know how y'all feel ab this and have a great weekend 🫶

Much like any teenager dreaming of greatness, you’d always had the perfect vision of your future. 

“UConn will recruit me,” you told your mother at thirteen, dribbling the ball between your legs as you weaved around imaginary defenders. 

“Keep the ball on a string,” she coached in response, her eyes appraising, gaze sharp in a way befitting of a former athlete. “Don’t overextend.”

You adjusted silently, breathing heavily before stepping back and launching a fadeaway jumper that sinks in seamlessly. “I’ll win a natty my senior year,” you manifested, talking mostly to yourself, but you knew she was listening as she passed the ball back to you. “Go top five in the draft.”

“You think I can get my future pro baller to clean her room?” she joked, and you gave her a knowing smile as you repeated the same drill again.

You worked for it everyday — starting with early conditioning, thorough recovery, taking care of your body and your mind. Your mother, your personal coach and former Seattle Storm forward, gave everything to help you realize your dreams and your abilities.

You started on varsity before you were even in high school. You had more gold medals than you had turnovers. You let yourself start dreaming about your draft table the day Coach Auriemma visited to watch you play, arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face, but you knew he had a roster spot with your name on it. It wasn’t arrogance. It was a well earned confidence, surety. 

Your table would be you. Obviously. Someone on the coaching staff — maybe CD, because at the rate Geno was recruiting the phenom in Minnesota, you figured he’d end up shackled to her table. Your mom — no question about it. She was your best coach, your biggest supporter, your rock. There wouldn’t be a you without a her in so many different ways. The last two people at your table were always a little ambiguous. You hoped that maybe there would be space in your life for someone you loved. Your girlfriend, maybe. The last person was even less clear — maybe a friend, your aunt, or maybe someone else from the coaching staff, but you had time to figure it out. 

You’re recruited by UConn, ranked second in your class only behind Paige Bueckers, the phenom from Minnesota. Your first year together is rough with all the COVID restrictions. Then, your life changes in your sophomore year when Azzi Fudd commits.

She was Paige’s best friend, having met back in high school and Paige moved mountains to recruit her. You think you fell in love the first time you saw her jumper. You knew you were in love when she smiled at you in practice after stealing the ball and taking it cross court for a layup. 

You’re dating by November of Azzi’s freshman year, just in time for the season to begin. The two of you have an undeniable chemistry on the court but there’s an inexplicable connection between the two of you off of it. You just get each other. You’re together through it all — the injuries, the midnight practices in the gym, the fifth year you take because you’re not leaving UConn without a national championship, not until you and Azzi hoist the trophy together.

Then, in late January of 2025 as you’re gearing up for the Tennessee game only days away, you get the news. Your mother had been diagnosed with a pretty severe brain cancer — glioblastoma. You’re not sure how it went unnoticed for so long, but the doctors said she’d be lucky if she could make it to May.

Your world spins on its axis. How could it not? Your mother was only in her mid 50s. She’d done everything right. She was an athlete, she took care of her body, her mind, everything. She was a good person. She hosted annual camps for high school athletes back home in Seattle, coaching them the same way she’d coached you. She donated, volunteered, always gave back – so why was she the one with the diagnosis, the one you would lose? Why her, why now, why at all?

It took a lot of effort to keep you afloat — but Azzi tried. Most of the time, it felt like she was the only one who truly understood you. There wasn’t much you could say about it and she never pressured you. She just stayed, and that was more than you could ask for. Azzi rubbed your back when you cried, held your hair back when the grief made you sick. Your mom wasn’t gone but it felt like she was slipping through your fingers like grains of sand through an hourglass.

You’re pretty much a non-factor in the Tennessee game, contributing more to the loss than Tennessee contributed to their win. You spend more than half of the game dissociating on the bench, thinking you should be in Seattle right now, keeping her company at her bedside. After she retired and got pregnant with you – your father no more than a donor – you were all that she had. She shouldn’t be alone during this, but she was adamant that you stay and finish out the season. This season was everything you’d spent five years working for but it quickly became the least of your worries. Your mother was dying; who cared about a trophy?

She did.

The night of the Tennessee loss, you’re on the phone together. You’re curled up in Azzi’s comforter, her dorm a constant ever since you’d heard the news. She stepped out to pick up some late night snacks, mostly to give you and your mom some privacy but also to cheer you up. Azzi was the only one who truly knew how hard you were taking all of it, the only one who got to see you fall apart.

“You’re not allowed to let this destroy you,” your mother rasps, her voice firm in her Coach Voice that you grew up teasing her about. Now, it just makes you emotional instead of amused – she won’t be around to remind you about your follow-through, about leading with your shoulder. You’ll have to remind yourself of that. Some other coach that’s not her will have to remind you about that. You try not to choke up. You know you need to hear what she’s saying.

“You’ve spent five years fighting for this,” she continues. “Nineteen years living this. Whatever happens in May, you are not allowed to let this be the end for you. Do you hear me?”

Throat tight, you nod, knowing she can’t see you. “I do,” you promise.

She says your name, her voice strong where her body can’t be, and you swallow thickly as you prepare to listen. “Whether or not I’m here, I’ll always be with you. You have the very best parts of me, you know that? My smile, my passion, my jumpshot–” That draws a watery laugh out of you. You can almost visualize the smile on your mom’s face. “And no matter what, we’ll always have basketball. You’ll have me. I’ll take care of you. That’s what moms do.”

“I don’t know if I can do this without you,” you whisper.

“You already are,” she says softly. “And you’re doing an amazing job.”

“I don’t want to do this without you,” you amend.

“Then don’t. Get your head on right. Win the championship – for yourself, for your team, for Azzi, for me. Go to the draft. Wherever you go, I’ll be there. I promise you that. But I can’t be there if you let this break you.”

“I won’t let it.” You take a deep breath, glancing at Azzi’s bedroom door when it opens. Azzi walks in silently with her arms full of snacks. You smile when she crawls in next to you, offering a piece of chocolate, and you take it gratefully. “You wanna talk to Azzi?” you ask, but you already know your mother’s answer as you pass the phone over.

“Hey, girl!” Azzi says in a valley-girl accent, making you roll your eyes with another wobbly laugh. You can hear your mom’s laugh too – the exact same one as yours. You can barely make out her voice on the other end, but you don’t need to, knowing that Azzi needs this conversation just as much as you do. Your mother had welcomed Azzi to the family long before you started dating. She claimed that she knew you loved Azzi the moment you called her after a practice to rant about how pure her form is because there’s just no heterosexual or platonic explanation for that. “You know I got her,” Azzi promises, making you perk up a little. Almost absentmindedly, Azzi’s free hand rubs your knee soothingly. She is quiet for a few beats, nodding her head as she listens, her face softening. “I know. I will. I swear. I love you, too.”

After a quick goodbye, Azzi passes the phone back to you, where you and your mom chat for a little while longer. You ask about what she’s doing to keep busy, if she’s resting enough, if she’s drinking enough water. She humors you, the smile evident in her tone as she asks about your day, too, if you’re taking good care of her daughter-in-law, which makes you laugh because if there’s one thing that you try to get right always, it’s Azzi.

When the call ends so your mom can get to bed, Azzi holds you as you silently process. She doesn’t push you to talk. She knows that you don’t have the words for it right now. But she’s there, grounding, and that’s all you need. Eventually, the words come to you – terrified confessions because you’ve lived your entire life with your mom being one call away; how were you supposed to navigate that? Bursts of grief, because everything is so overwhelming right now. An on-brand spark of determination because you promised your mom that you would hold it together, that you’d win the championship, that you’d get drafted. You would do it. For her.

And you do. After the Tennessee game, it’s like a flip has been switched for you. You’re averaging over twenty points a game. You and Azzi combine for 54 points against South Carolina, which sets the tone for the rest of the regular season and the postseason. In the NCAA tournament, the Huskies are unstoppable, with everyone having at least one particularly explosive game, but you? Every game is explosive. You have something to lose if you don’t win, something a lot more important than a trophy.

Your mom is one row behind the Husky bench in Tampa for the national championship game against South Carolina. She’s wearing your jersey, one that used to fit but now swamps her body like it’s several sizes too big. Each and every one of her cheers motivates you, energizing your step-back threes or a harsh block. You know that she has until May, but if this is the last time she gets to see you play…then you’re content with it being a blowout in the national championship.

When you cut down the net, you cut an extra piece for her.

On Wednesday, three days after the national championship, she’s buried with that piece of nylon tied around her necklace, one you’d bought for her with your first NIL endorsement.

Grief is weird. You’d made it through her funeral in solemn silence, not crying during your speech as you shared some anecdotes during her life. You could only stare as her casket was lowered, your hand holding Azzi’s tight enough that you were sure it hurt her, but she let you. You smiled faintly at family members, thanking people for their condolences, agreeing that Yeah, cancer fucking sucks. You don’t cry when you spend the night in your childhood home, going through photo albums with Azzi (ones that she’s been through numerous times, although your mom was usually right there next to her, pointing out your embarrassing baby photos. Now, you’re the one showing her the photos that used to make you cringe, thinking about how cruel fate is).

You don’t cry when Azzi wraps her arms around you that night, reminding you that you’re not alone. You know you aren’t, but you can’t help but feel like you are.

You do cry when you wake up that morning. Determined to feel normal again, you make your way to the kitchen to make Azzi coffee and breakfast in bed. A thank you for everything she’s done for you since your mom’s diagnosis. You cry when you spot your mom’s coffee mug left out on the counter, remnants of cold coffee left at the bottom. The coffee pot is still full, untouched since Sunday morning. There’s a half-done crossword puzzle at her spot at the table, left open like she thought she’d have the time to come back to finish it. Everything in the kitchen reminds you of how fucking cruel life is – countless photos of the two of you pressed onto the refrigerator with magnets, leftovers packed neatly into tupperware, the calendar tacked onto the wall with April 6th circled multiple times with a smiley face.

You can’t help it. You sob, pressing the heels of your palms to your eyes like it would make everything stop, but it doesn’t. That’s the issue, isn’t it? Time doesn’t stop. Not for you, not for you mom, not for anyone. It keeps on moving. Your mom is gone and everything in this house reminds you of when she wasn’t and how she had plans and so much more of her life left to live. She was supposed to be in New York for your draft night. She was supposed to be courtside for your first game in the WNBA, yelling about bad foul calls in your honor and cheering for your first professional point.

It’s not her fault but you can’t help but feel like you’ve been abandoned. Somebody – something took her from you and you’re not sure how you’re supposed to come back from that. Your heart pounds, perhaps too fast for how little air you’re sucking in, and you bury your head in your hands to try to calm yourself.

Then you feel Azzi behind you. Her body is warm, strong, her arms loving as she presses herself into you, offering quiet support. You choke, turning around, burying yourself in her embrace as you crumble. She murmurs nonsense to support you, tears of her own soaking your shirt, but you just hold onto each other in the kitchen.

Above all else, you remember the promise you made to your mother. You weren’t gonna let this destroy you. So you grieve, but you’re in New York for the draft, at the top of the Empire State Building, sticking close to Paige because she’s your best friend and she’s the closest thing you have to family right now. 

On Monday, you sit politely in Azzi’s suite as your stylists and hair and make-up teams bustle about, brushing product onto your face, swiping mascara through your lashes. For the most part, it’s a blur, but the knowledge that Azzi is right next to you keeps you steady. You don’t complain when Brittany helps you into your draft outfit – a simple white suit perfectly tailored to your frame, although you omit the jacket to expose your arms.

When you first catch sight of Azzi, it’s as though the very breath is stolen from your lungs. You stare at her, your eyes impossibly tender as you take in the floor-length black dress she’s wearing, the depth of her gaze heightened by her dark makeup. You swallow bashfully, feeling as though you’re a high schooler staring at their prom date for the first time. 

“You’re stunning,” you murmur, your hands reaching out to hold her. There’s a soft reverence in your features as you breathe her in.

She smiles at you. “Good arm candy, huh?” she jokes, which makes you shake your head as you laugh. You wrap your arms around her fully and rest your head in the crook of her neck, sighing and trying to regulate your emotions. The pressure of her arms around you makes you feel a little more stable. “I’m so proud of you.” Her words make you soften, tightening your grip. “And I love you. Wherever you get drafted tonight isn’t gonna change that.”

“I love you, too,” you promise.

And, for the most part, your night isn’t terrible. You pose for photos on the orange carpet, feeling yourself loosen up as you get lost in the camera flashes. When you’re pulled into your first interview, the reporter covers her mic and politely offers her condolences, which you appreciate. The interview itself is focused purely on basketball, where you’re hoping to land in the draft, what you can bring to the team that drafts you. You could answer those questions in your sleep.

Hannah and Rickea are amicable, too, asking who you’re wearing. Their energy makes you smile, relaxing a little more, and Rickea’s departing hug is a little tighter, more meaningful. You take more photos with your team, rolling your eyes when Paige rests her arm over your shoulder as if you two aren’t the same height, trying to not look too in love with Azzi when you break apart for solo shots.

Then, you and Azzi make your way into the main room, where the draft tables are separated by rope. It almost makes your heart stop beating, but Azzi takes your hand in hers, giving you a gentle squeeze and a concerned look. You just nod at her, taking a deep breath, and you make your way to your table where CD and Jamelle are waiting for you. You hug the both of them, melting a little more into CD’s arms and trying to not cry.

During your time at UConn, you relied a lot on CD – probably more than you were expecting to. Now, that relationship you have with her is just what you need right now. She doesn’t release you until you’re ready.

You thought a lot about your draft table. It would be the biggest moment of your life and you wanted the people you loved around you. There was you. Obviously. There was CD, your coach, because of course that phenom from Minnesota was hogging Geno (you didn’t mind – even if Geno was available, you probably would have chosen CD, anyway). There was Jamelle, who you learned so much from, who you went to for advice when you were hopelessly crushing on Azzi because you knew Geno would just make fun of you and CD would give you a really long lecture. There was Azzi, your girlfriend, the person who you made space for in your life because you loved them.

Then, there’s your mom, who occupies the empty chair, who’s here if not physically. She’s with you because you are her – you’re an amalgamation of all of the good parts of her and the pieces of you that you curated. You have her smile, her passion, the jumpshot that got her drafted, her wisdom and all of her heart.

You sit through the opening remarks. You clap for Paige when the Wings call her name first – she comes over to your table and hugs you, Azzi, CD, and Jamelle, winking at you conspiratorially as she walks up the stage. She poses for photos, does a quick interview with Holly Rowe, then leaves for media.

With the second pick, the Seattle Storm are on the clock, and you cast a glance at the empty chair next to you, trying to not get too emotional. Azzi reaches over, tangles your fingers together, and smiles at you gently.

Cathy returns to the podium to announce Seattle’s pick. You’re lost in thought and hardly hear the name called until Azzi squeezes your hand, saying, “It’s you!” and you glance up in confusion to see the entire room staring at you, their cheers loud. CD and Jamelle are already standing but all you can focus on is the fact that you just got drafted by the Storm, the same team that drafted your mother so many years ago, the same team you grew up idolizing. With your heart in your throat, you stand, wrapping your arms tightly around Azzi, holding back tears when she tells you she loves you and hugging CD and Jamelle just as tightly. Then, you make your way to Paige’s table, hugging Geno, and you walk up the stairs with a wobbly smile.

What you’re not prepared for is the jersey that Cathy unfolds for you to see. It’s not the standard draft jersey. It’s number thirteen – your mom’s number – and her – your – last name is printed on the back. You can’t stop the tears this time, trying your best to shake Cathy’s hand and keeping your head high so you don’t stain her outfit with your mascara. You wipe your eyes, stepping down for the interview with Holly Rowe, who has to wait until the crowd calms down to ask her first question.

“Lots of emotions here on draft night,” she begins. “Can you tell us how you’re feeling right now?”

“Blessed. Grateful. The works,” you joke through your tears, smiling when the crowd eats it up. “At risk of sounding like a broken record, I’m just happy to be here, that the Storm is taking a chance on me. They’re my hometown team and I’m honored to have been selected by them.”

You’re not prepared for her second question. “More than being your hometown team, your mother played for them for almost a decade before retirement. How are you feeling after your mother passed from cancer? Do you feel like you have pretty big shoes to fill?”

It’s almost as though the room goes pin-drop silent. You freeze, the camera guy looks as though he wants to be anywhere else, and Holly just stares at you with that same imploring, vulture-like reporter’s stare, like she hadn’t said anything wrong.

Part of you wants to be sad – this feels like humiliation on live television, your mother’s memory dishonored for clicks. Sad because every other journalist at this event had the courtesy to be respectful about your loss, but not this one.

You’re almost surprised by the anger, because where does she get off on asking such a question? Big shoes to fill? You haven’t even mourned her fully yet. You haven’t grieved enough to process a loss as big as this one. Your mother passed away a week ago, you’re barely hanging on, and you have to answer these stupid fucking questions when you could be working through all of the pain you’ve pushed to the side just so you can be here because it was what your mother wanted. Your hands tremble as you seethe, trying to hold onto the five years of UConn media training, but you’re too upset to think that actions have consequences as you answer.

“I feel like it’s a miracle you’re still employed,” you say, your gaze hard. “I don’t owe you my fucking grief.”

You don’t wait for a response as you leave her behind, already knowing this clip is going to be circulating on social media within a few hours. You feel sick as you think about what your face must have looked like, the lapse in control or the expression of pure horror. The tears pool in your eyes as your throat burns. You’d made it through the entire day without any incident and now is when you fall apart.

You find the bathroom, pushing the door open, relieved that it’s empty as you press your hands to your eyes again, uncaring of the fact you’re smudging your mascara. The first hiccuping sob leaves you in a heave as you turn on the water faucet, hands shaking as you desperately try to wipe the makeup off of your hands and your face. The second one echoes embarrassingly, which just makes you more emotional – you’re losing your mind in the bathroom at the WNBA Draft and you feel weak, unmoored, and in need of a hug from your mother but obviously, that’s a little unattainable right now.

It’s then that it hits you fully – your mother is gone. You’d kept the grief and the emotions close to your chest or with your close circle, but the fact that Holly has brought it up, that people outside of you know that your mother has passed, makes it more real. You don’t know what you’re doing – what you’re supposed to do, and it feels too late to try to figure it out. You’d never realized how high you’d built yourself up, blissfully ignorant of the fact that your mother would one day die, and now you’re starting to truly understand that it’s truly a long way down.

You’re still crying when the door opens cautiously, although you look up, already wiping your eyes. When you see it’s Azzi who has found you, you give up on trying to be strong, instead falling into her arms with equal parts relief, anguish, and anger. She holds onto you tightly as if she’s afraid you’ll disappear completely.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, smoothing down your hair as your shoulders shake. “I’m so sorry. She shouldn’t have said that.”

You shake your head, not quite having the words as you breathe Azzi in, the scent of her perfume, the shampoo she’d used the night before, the pieces of her that have blended in with the scent of you. It’s difficult to describe – the fact that Azzi is the only thing that truly feels like home right now. She’s your only source of peace, the only one who makes it feel like you’re not drowning in your grief all the time. You’re the same for her, too – you’ve both lost something.

After a few moments, the tremors in your body subside and your breathing evens out. Azzi doesn’t let you go, instead whispering, “You remember Tennessee?” You think for a moment, nodding, recalling the night in Azzi’s dorm room after you got off the plane and talked to your mom on the phone. “As long as you have basketball, you’ll have her. Don’t let Holly Rowe take that away from you. You worked so hard to get here. You did it, okay? This is everything your mom’s ever wanted for you. This is everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“I just wanted her to be here,” you confess, your voice cracking, but you don’t have anything left in you to cry.

“She is,” Azzi says. “She wouldn’t miss it. She’s proud of you, you know that?” You nod, not trusting yourself to speak, and Azzi cups the back of your neck, her nails brushing against your skin in the way she always soothes you. “And I am too. You’re going to Seattle. You’re gonna wear her jersey number – and you’re not filling her shoes. She wouldn’t want you to do that. You’re remembering her and forging your own path.”

When you don’t respond, Azzi pulls back from you, her face drawn up in worry as her hands cup your cheeks. “You okay?”

You nod again, the movement a little shaky, and you can’t help but smile when she presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I will be,” you say. “Are you okay?”

She offers a sly sort of smirk. “I’m not the one who almost sucker punched Holly Rowe on national television. But I am thinking really hard about it.”

You roll your eyes, laughing despite yourself. “For real,” you whisper. “You always say I’m not alone, but…you’re not either, Az.”

“I know,” she says quietly, the affection in her eyes shining. “And I promise I’m okay. It’s… really hard but we’re taking it day by day. Together.”

“Together,” you echo.

Azzi nods, a tender smile appearing on her face as she presses her forehead to yours. “You wanna go back to the hotel?” she asks. “DoorDash a bunch of unhealthy food and watch trashy reality TV?”

You grin, kissing her gently, unfiltered adoration and appreciation seeping through the small gesture. “Later,” you say, sure of it. “I just needed a moment. I’ll power through media and then be back in time to see Kaitlyn and Aubrey get drafted. Mom would come back to beat me up if I left my teammates hanging.”

“Whatever you want,” Azzi murmurs, pulling you into her embrace again. “Just let me know how you’re feeling.”

“I will,” you say, squeezing her around the waist. “Thanks for checking on me.”

Her hold on you tightens, like she can’t imagine a world where she wouldn’t. “I always will,” she promises. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you whisper, smiling against her skin. It feels like such a small way of verbalizing how much love you truly have for Azzi, who’d pulled you up when you thought you were sinking. You wouldn’t be here without her and that’s not something that will change, no matter how often she tries to argue against it. She has the uncanny ability to make life more manageable, and you know she understands you just the same – that the love you hold is something that transcends description. She always would.

[pizzaapeteer]

pieces of life - Mattheo & Theo

I’ve been imagining what it would be like to see Theo and Mattheo just around the castle….

- walking around chatting as they have their hands in their pockets, their hair disheveled and uniforms slightly untucked, loose ties

- arm wrestling, thumb wars, head locking one another over the breakfast table in the great hall, being obnoxiously loud esp to Blaise trying to just read the daily prophet

- standing out in the transfiguration courtyard people watching with their dead stares while they smoke cigarettes and bitch about classes

- both of them always being competitive in their fitness but both struggling to climb up the astronomy tower stairs because of their shitty lungs

- the random times Mattheo has over bursts of energy and jumps on Theo’s back for him to give him a piggyback, often resulting in dragging them both down

- the two of them hanging out in the Slytherin common room into the early hours, drinking and having a deep and meaningful chat as well as pointing out how good the pranks the Weasley pull

- the two of them getting distracted in study session in the library and breaking into fits of laughter when Blaise and Draco shoot them synchronized looks to shut up right before they get all of them kicked out

- anytime one of them accidentally blows something up both equally blaming Seamus and never take the fault

- snickering in the hallways when they fling shit at first years of other houses with slingshots (literally standing up on the ledge like where Ron and Harry are in the 6th movie)

- theo trying to tackle mattheo at the beginning of quidditch practice on the ground, before Mattheo purposefully aims the bludger a little to close to theo

- purposefully luring any girls cat over to the dungeons so they can have furbaby cuddles, and make girls chase after them

- sneaking into the kitchens when Theo complains about being homesick and needing to steal some bread

- both of them always interrupting Draco whenever he tries to make a move on a girl, taking the piss and bringing up random facts about Draco as a child

- beer pong partners 100%

- throwing fake spiders at ron 24/7

- silent facial communications

- insults to one another, specifically to do with something psychical eg: Theo being called a stick and Matt being called a dirty scoundrel

- both sitting at the back of the class but often get separated

- fucking around at the beginning of DADA with stupid spells

- drawing cocks on anyone who falls asleep in the common room with a permeant spell

- whipping their towels at one another in the locker room; and trying not check one another out 👀

- taking advantage of Draco’s prefect roles to sabotage the prefects bath, sneaking girls in there to act like it’s a hot tub

- getting pent up energy before a quidditch game and yelling ‘LESGO’ ‘FUCK THESE BITCHES UP’

⤷ navigation.⤷ masterlist ©️pizzaapeteer 2025. Divider

this is so random and has been sitting in my drafts forever, it’s kind of just a random shit thought post

[akaz2908]

[msfantasy-comics]

The Friends to Lovers

Jason Todd x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: Best friends who have known each other for years. Suddenly, Jason and Y/n realise their deeper feelings, leading to an unexpected romance

A/n: YALL this has been sitting in my drafts since 23 June 2023 and I FINALLY finished it today 11 April 2025— even though I already posted something today— I waited so long to finish this, imma just post it

Deep connections are often forged in the briefest encounters. Such is true for Jason and Y/n, whose connection is rooted in the magic of brief glances and polite greetings. But the frequent encounters experienced between Jason and Y/n had led them to be more than random strangers passing in the hall. One moment they were locker neighbours, who would share snacks, or pass class notes and the next they were friendly acquaintances, which quickly turned into a full blown friendship.

It’s difficult to pinpoint the moment the friendship blossomed as it feels as though Jason were always just part of your life and it’s certainly hard to imagine what it would be like now without him.

Jason is the sole reasoned you survived high school. Without him, your sanity would have long since vanished.

Now as adults you navigate the challenges of adulting. Your best friend, your roommate, the absolute bane of your existence.

You hold up a used mug that sits idly in your sink. Storming to Jason’s room you fling the door open with a loud bang not bothering to knock.

“I swear to god Jason, I told you last time! If you have dirty dishes just put it in the dishwasher!” You frantically wave the used dishware. “This is the last time I’m telling you!” Spinning to leave Jason quickly grabs your arm.

“Hey wait, you gave me an idea…” you merely blink at Jason’s ambiguous statement.

“An idea to manage your cleaning capabilities?”

“What? No! Drop the cleaning rant for a moment will ya?” Jason wrenches the mug from your hand and places it on the night stand. “I’m talking about going to that gala that Artemis will attend with her new ‘fiancé’ I need someone to pretend to be my girlfriend. You’ll be perfect!”

You’re head tilts in confusion like a sweet and confused puppy. “Erm… what? Pretend to be your girlfriend? Are you mad Jay? That sounds like a terrible idea.” Jason only waves off your jab.

“Common Y/n, I need help proving that I’m happier without her. It’s for a good cause, you’ll get to have free food and booze.” You only scowl with crossed arms as you contemplate the temptation at mellowing in the glitz and glam- your night feed taken care of. But pretending to be Jay’s girlfriend, just to make his ex-girlfriend jealous is crazy.

“I dunno Jay-Jay…. Do you really think flaunting a fake girlfriend is proving you’re over her? This elaborate rouse to prove to your ex that your over her is desperate and I’m embarrassed for you right now homie.” Jason only shakes his head. “Seriously Jay, you’ve been happy and flourishing without her, you don’t need to flaunt a fake girlfriend just to prove it.”

His serious face turns into an antagonist smirk. The kind of smile he makes when he seeks a deeper truth. “There’s something more to it isn’t it? Don’t lie sunshine, I can see it all over your face. What are you really afraid of?” Your cheeks burn in embarrassment, you can never have a secret of your own around him, he’s far to observant. You feel far too embarrassed to admit the ugly truth, but it has to be said.

“What if I get all like… I dunno… get confused…” Mumbling the last part you shyly look up at Jason. His analysing stare quickly turns to laughter which is insultingly loud. His face twisting in gut-clenching humour.

“Yeah right! You’re my best friend Y/n! We wouldn’t- we couldn’t.” His laughter continues to boom but that voice in the back of your head is still announcing it’s concerns.

You would never admit it to Jason, but you did use to have a school girl crush on him. He’s handsome, friendly and funny, he makes you feel so special. It’s hard not to get caught up in that Todd/Wayne family charm. His charisma is intoxicating, and you won’t lie to yourself that a small part of you had wished that he’ll see you as more than a friend. At least, that’s what you use to believe. You’ve spent so many years by Jason’s side you truely have come to experience all of his ugly sides. He’s childish, inconsiderate, selfish, uses humour as a deflection, un-committed and above all else, you’ve personally witness the Jason Todd heartbreak train.

You have both been friends for so long that an romantic hints have long since died out.

And just like that, watching Jason laugh til he wheezed over the proespects of either of you catching feelings, as if it was impossible to like you as anything more - squashed all of your feelings away.

Concerns be damned, we’re friends, and that all we’ll ever be.

“Fine I’m in.”

You were starting to realise that your reservations were not unfounded.

This bastard really invited me to his family hosted gala for a dumbass reason and couldn’t even be bothered to pick me up and bring me here.

You grumble in the backseat of the limo that is pulling into the driveway up to the red carpet where the paparazzi stood all on one side with their cameras flashing.

Ah fuck, is it too late to change your mind?

Before you could even request for the limo driver to continue driving out of the estate. The driver jumps out of the car racing to your door to pull it open.

As soon as the car door is pulled open, the bright flashes flare sporadically towards your direction as you slowly crawl out of the limo as elegantly as one could.

Whilst you may not be enjoying the frenzied flashes of the photos being taken. You were rather enjoying how put together you looked that evening.

Courtesy of Jason he insured that you would well taking care of by a team of designers, make-up artist and hairstylist.

While, you were skilled enough to get yourself ready. You appreciate how the team of designers custom made you a couture dress that fitted your figure more flattering than any other piece of garments in your closet and the fabric colours matched perfectly to your palette.

Never mind if you were quite skilled with make up; being skilled enough to enhance your features after years of practice. But never had you thought to use the products that the make up artist used, never had you thought to apply the techniques that they had and never had you thought that you would be able to make your face look more perfect than they were able to

And whilst your hair always looked done well never had you been able to style it the way that they did.

So yes, the flashing cameras were a bother but it was also a warm welcome considering how much you are feeling yourself right now. Excited to see the pictures and look back on this night of when you felt the most beautiful you have ever been in your whole life.

“You clean up well.” Jason says appearing by your side suddenly and looping his arm through your own. “Let’s get this over with shall we?” He says not passing you a second glance. 

“Are you serious? Men at the gas station have given me much higher compliments for much less.” You scoff rolling your eyes as you take a step forward.

“What am I? Your boyfriend?“ 

“Yes. Tonight, you are or have you forgotten?” You whipped back making Jason hesitate in his next step.

”Oh right.” He falters, but just as quickly he stands straighter, his shoulders squared. “You look remarkable doll.” He praises, pulling you in just a little bit closer. So he can nuzzle your neck. The action alone has the red carpet lighting up like fireworks. Almost blinding you completely, but Jason pulls you along with him.

You’d be lying if you said his condescending tone didn’t piss you off, but there was a sense of wanting to hear him speak those words to you authentically. You really couldn’t help but silently revel in his praise even if it was all a facade.

As soon as you to pass the paparazzi, you enter into the large hall filled with copious buckets of exotic flowers, the dining tables well dressed, with overelaborate centrepieces dominating the space.

At the end of the hall was a band propped up on a makeshift stage performing a soulful ballad.

At first you were looking forward to the glitz and glam, but the longer you look out into the hall and take in the faces of the crowd suddenly you were feeling more out of place. Normally you couldn’t give rats, about what others thought of. But the more you observed the crowd raking in your figure the more self-conscious you were growing. “Jason—“ you called out turning to the person who expected to be by your side suddenly gone.

What the fuck?!

Your head whips quickly, looking desperately to see where Jason has disappeared to.

There’s no way he brought you here just to abandon you.

You’re just about ready to storm back out through the door when Roy Harper catches your hand.

“Where do you think you’re going beautiful?” Roy says with that dangerous smile of his.

“Roy!” You greet enthusiastically, just about launching yourself into his arms. Caught off guard with your excitement, Roy stumbles back slightly, laughing at your unexpected antics.

“I’m surprised you’re here. Jason never comes to these things if he can help it. But you know how Oliver gets if I try and skip.” Roy shudders at the memory.

“Yeah well, Jason had this genius idea that we should play house in front of Artemis.” You answer as Roy slides a flute into your hands.

“Seriously?“Roy begins as you sip on your bubbly drink. “He’s the one that broke up with her so what does he even want?” You choke ungracefully on your drink.

What do you mean he broke up with her? Wasn’t it the other way around?”

“Aren’t you meant to be Jason’s number 2 friend or something? I thought you knew.”

“You mean number 1– because you’re number two.” You defend your title but Roy only shrugs his shoulders dismissively.

“Artemis accused Jason of having feelings for you and gave an ultimatum it was her are you.” You stare at Roy with wide eyes. “But just like always he chose you.“ He says lightly, as if every single word that he’s spoken so far hasn’t just about punched you in the gut.

“What the hell do you mean just like always?”

“Come on kid— how much longer are you two going to keep dancing around the facts? You know that Jason relationships haven’t worked out because of his feelings for you.” Your heart pounds in your chest. Your breath getting caught in your throat.

“Why are you saying all this?”

“Because it’s obvious your meant to be together and I’m sick of the slow burn! Just get together already!” Roy cheers making you frantically shush him as heads begin to turn to your direction.

“You just want my number one spot.” You huff, more so reassuring yourself that Roy’s antics are just that.

“Don’t deflect— I’m being serious… your number one spot is just a coincidental benefit for me when you two finally just admit it.”

You managed to avoid Jason for most of the evening—successfully, in fact—until you slipped out the side doors into the garden for a moment to breathe. That’s when you ran into Artemis.

“Oh—sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was out here. I’ll just go—”

“Wait a second. Come back,” she said, gesturing for you to sit beside her. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

You approached slowly, feeling awkward about sitting next to Jason’s ex-girlfriend—the one he supposedly broke up with because of you.

“I have to admit,” Artemis began, her voice light, “a small part of me is glad to see you two together tonight. It just… validates how I felt back then. After months of agonizing, wondering if I made a mistake. Seeing you now—I can tell you really do like each other. Romantically.” You nearly cringed at the word, instinctively wanting to correct her. But something told you to stay quiet.

So you listened. “But it’s weird,” she continued. “Because in another way—I don’t care. Without you, maybe Jason and I wouldn’t have broken up. And if that didn’t happen, then I never would’ve found Wally.” Her gaze drifted dreamily toward the ballroom, where Wally stood among a small crowd, clearly saying something ridiculous. You both smiled. “Do me a favor?”

“Um… sure…” you said, hesitantly. Something in her tone made you nervous.

“Tell me the truth,” Artemis asked, locking eyes with you. “Do you love him?” Her gaze was unwavering, and in her eyes you saw something raw, searching—not judgment, just an honest plea. You almost gave her your usual answers.

Don’t be crazy, of course not.

He’s my best friend.

He’s basically my brother.

But you knew if you lied, if you denied it again, you’d be doing her—and yourself—a disservice.

So for the first time ever, you told the truth.

“I do,” you said softly.

“Romantically?” she asked, gently pushing.

“Romantically,” you confirmed, and it came with a surprising sense of relief.

“When?” she asked, now visibly intrigued.

“I’m not sure if there was one exact moment,” you said, the memories tugging a smile to your lips. “But I remember the first time I saw him… I thought he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. And when we spoke, I just wanted to be someone important to him. Friend or… maybe something more.”

You glanced toward Artemis. She was listening intently.

“The first time I saw him with someone else, I was crushed. And every girl after that just made it easier to harden up. So I waited. I told myself to move on, to just find someone else. I thought I would...”

Artemis tilted her head. “So that’s when you finally admitted it to yourself?”

You shook your head. “No. I admitted it to myself a long time ago. But when you showed up… that’s when I accepted he’d never feel the same. But I was okay with that—as long as he had someone like you.”

Artemis placed a gentle hand over yours.

“So that’s why you begged me to take him back…”

Before you could answer, Wally appeared in the doorway.

“Sweets! Ready to go?” he called, holding up her purse.

“Thanks for the chat, Y/n,” Artemis said, standing with a kind smile. “I truly wish you and Jason happiness.”

You watched her rush off to Wally, your moment of catharsis now fading, replaced by the crushing weight of reality.

You were still living a lie.

How much longer could you keep pretending? Watching Jason live a life that didn’t include you—not really. Pretending you were content as just his friend, when in truth, you were using that friendship as a substitute for the love you could never express.

You weren’t his friend. You were a woman suppressing her feelings, convincing herself that his proximity was enough. But it wasn’t.

And worse—you were dragging Jason through it with you. Ruining his chances with other women who sensed your infatuation. It was one thing to lie to yourself…

But it was another to drag him along too.

“Wow—you almost convinced me,” came a voice behind you. “Good speech, you really out performed yourself.”

Jason.

You looked up at him, heart thudding painfully. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

“Jay—that wasn’t a lie,” you said quietly.

“What are you talking about, doll? Of course I know you love me, just… not like—”

“But it is like that,” you interrupted.

Jason blinked. You could already see the mental gymnastics beginning.

“Yeah-yeah, but what you really mean—”

“Is that I love you.”

You said it with finality. You wouldn’t let him reframe your words this time.

Jason froze. “You… don’t want me.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t—”

“I do.”

“Can—can you just stop for a second?!” he snapped, raking a hand through his hair. “You just think you do, but you don’t. Not really.”

“I do.”

“God—why are you being like this?” he said, voice cracking with something close to panic. “You don’t understand—I ruin things. I always do. Even if you love me now, later you won’t. I’ll ruin it, like I always do.

“I can’t make you want to be with me, Jason,” you said, voice steady but soft. “But I’m telling you I do love you. I’m telling you I want to be with you. I’m telling you I don’t want to be anything less. And I’m asking you—be mine.”

Jason was silent. For a moment, you feared he would walk away.

Then, softly, like an exhale. “I’m already yours, doll. Always have been.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “So what does this mean, exactly?”

Jason scoffed, as if the question was ridiculous. “It means I want you to start telling people I’m your boyfriend. Your partner. It means I want to come home to you—always. Sleep in our bed. Wake up beside you. And I don’t want to look at anyone else the way I look at you.”

He stepped closer, now only inches away.

And then—finally—he did what you’d both wanted for so long.

He kissed you.

Epilogue (if you can call it that)

Y/n: So I’m guessing you weren’t hung up on Artemis?

Jason: I really couldn’t give a shit

Y/n: …. So then why did you ask me to pretend to be your girlfriend to make her jealous?

Jason: … I wanted to see what it was like having you as a girlfriend

Y/n: …

Jason: … what?

Y/n: … you’re doing too much— seriously— you should’ve just told me you wanted me— could’ve saved all these years of mutual pining

[bueckersleftbraid]

Secret Smiles (Part 1)

paige bueckers x femme!oc

synopsis : In which, Mari and Paige find each other exactly when they need to most. With the odd coincidence of their schedules working together perfectly, Paige fits right into Mari's life. She loves Mari's daughter and can't help but gain feelings for Mari. But is Paige ready to hold such a huge responsibility?

word count : 2.5k (starting off shorter)

authors note : Hi!!! I know it's been over a week since I said I would post this but... here it is! This is my first time writing like this and also my first time posting on here, so I hope you like it. Pls pls pls leave live reacts I will love you forever and ever!!

Chapter 1 : Draft Night

April 2025 - Mari’s POV

The atmosphere of the Brooklyn Academy of Music was magical. It was only the second year in which fans were allowed to come to the draft, and wow, did that make a difference in the energy in the building. There was chatter left and right, everyone eagerly waiting for this year's stacked draft class. And I was right there beside them. I was ecstatic for this year's draft, after Dallas had such a successful off-season with free agency, we were just picking up more power at the draft. Paige Bueckers. Arguably the most beloved college basketball player in the country, who was coming to Dallas as the number 1 pick. The whole team was psyched. 

Paige was a powerhouse player at Uconn, transforming the game every time she stepped on the court. From jumpers, to insane assists, to blocks, to three-pointers, Paige had it all. During her freshman season at UConn, she won all the national player of the year awards she was eligible for—AP Player of the Year, Naismith College Player of the Year, USBWA Women's National Player of the Year and the John R. Wooden Award—becoming the first freshman to receive any of the awards. She was already a basketball legend and hadn’t even stepped foot on a professional court.

I sat three rows back, on the left side of the theater, alongside some stars. Dawn Stayler, head coach of the South Carolina Gamecocks, was two seats to my right, and a few of the UConn players sat to my left, including Morgan Cheli, Sarah Strong, and KK Arnold. I think I saw Ice Brady and Caroline Ducharme sitting behind me, but I resisted being nosy and turning around to see if it was them. I had always been a huge college basketball fan, so my career working in the WNBA was a dream come true. Being one of the social media managers for the Dallas Wings had brought so many opportunities my way, but going to the draft was probably one of my favorites. I got to meet all of the top college players, and talk to them on a friendly level. 

My phone buzzed with a text from one of my closest friends, Rori Harmon. She had been with me through it all at Texas, my beloved alma-mater. Through all of the drama and through the worst break up of my life. Her, Madi, aka Madison Booker, and Mads, aka Madison Skinner, had been my closest friends at Texas, and we still kept in touch.

Ror just saw you on tv, you look gorg !!

Mar mar awww thx ror ily 

Ror good luck tonight, sending you my good juju (watkins lol)

Mar mar tysm i need it lol, call later

Ror liked a message

I slid my phone back into my purse and let my focus set back to the event. From my seat, I could clearly see the floor where they had tables set up for each player and their families. At one of the tables near the front, Paige sat with who I assumed were her parents and her brother, Drew. Her mom and dad looked proud, their eyes scanning the room with eager excitement, while Drew bounced his knee anxiously under the table. I had spotted her other siblings in the crowd, but the table only had room for 4. Unlike her family, who radiated excitement, Paige sat stiffly, her fingers moving rapidly across the screen of her phone. Her shoulders were tense, her brows drawn together in deep concentration as she texted someone—who, I could only guess. A friend? A teammate? Maybe even a coach? Whoever it was, they had her full attention, keeping her locked in a private moment while the rest of the room buzzed with electric energy. For some reason, I wanted to know. I was intrigued by her, and soon enough I would get to know her. I mean, she was coming to Dallas after all.

________

Later that night, at the afterparty…

I had been searching for Paige everywhere. I had made it my priority to introduce myself, as a social media manager for the Wings, but also as a friend. As someone who could be a familiar face once she lands in Dallas, so she didn't feel alone. Finally, I spotted her, in the corner, sipping on a red drink and scrolling mindlessly through her phone. She looked good, Really good. She wore a Louis Vuitton suit, it was a beautiful color, one I wasn't exactly able to pinpoint. It was between a navy and a dark ocean blue. It fit her perfectly, physically, but also her energy. The outfit screamed Paige. With the accessories of silver earrings stacked along both ears, silver rings, and a small silver cross chain hanging from her neck, to her hair, which was down in long waves and had a few small braids scattered throughout, down to the Nike dunks which perfectly matched the color of the suit. I approached her, my yellow silk dress flowing as I walked, but it was no match for her ensemble. I was giving a basic How to Lose A Guy in 10 Days look, while she was… well majestic.

“Paige?” I questioned, in a soft voice, not meaning to startle her. She looked up, meeting my eyes with a small, but definitely fake smile. “Hi, Im Mari, Mari Sanchez. I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm the social media manager at Dallas. Oh- and congrats.” I said with a friendly smile.

“Nice to meet you.” She said, her smile turning more genuine, before her eyes dropped to my purse. My phone was ringing so I pulled it out.

“Sorry, but I have to take this,” I said to Paige before answering, “Hi Nai is everything- oh baby what's wrong? Baby I can’t come home, Mommy’s in New York,” Paige looked at me with curiosity in her eyes as my face was laced with worry. “No baby, Mommy will be home tomorrow okay? Let Auntie NaiNai and Auntie Lyssie tuck you in sweetie. Mommy loves you, kisses, okay- okay- goodnight baby.” I exhaled, slipping my phone back into my purse.

“Everything okay?” Paige asked. She seemed interested in the situation that was happening over the phone. 

“Yeah, sorry about that. My daughter is.. Well she's a handful and Dijonai and Nalyssa are babysitting her tonight while I’m here. She apparently persuaded Dijonai into letting her call me.” I said, shaking my head with a soft laugh. 

“You… you have a daughter? You seem young?” Paige asked. I know she didn’t mean anything by it, but people had always underestimated how good of a mom I could be just because of my age. My daughter, Laila, was the light of my life, and even though having a daughter so young was a struggle at first, I’d grown into an amazing mother, at least in my opinion.

“Yeah, I had her when I was 19, she’s almost 4.” I said with a smile. I loved talking about Laila, it always brought a smile to my face. “You’ll be seeing a lot of her in Dallas, she loves watching practice.” I spoke with a soft laugh.

“Well that’s sweet, I can’t wait to meet her. What’s her name?” 

“Laila. And I’m sure she’ll love you.” I said with a smile, now beaming on my face.

“What about you?” Paige asked. What did she mean? What about me? I looked at her with a bit of confusion before she spoke again. “Will I see a lot of you too?” Oh. Did she want to see a lot of me? Why was she asking that? Real question is, why is Paige Bueckers making me nervous about a simple question?

“Well um.. Yeah. I usually hang around during practice and I’m always at games, team events and stuff like that. Why?” I wasn’t exactly sure the direction this conversation was going so I played the friendly, more professional route.

“No reason,” she paused for a second, her expression unreadable, “I just like your vibe. I think we'll be friends.” Her soft, genuine smile turned into something resembling more of a smirk. Was she really smirking at me? I almost laughed at myself for believing that because as soon as the smirk appeared, it was gone, and back to a soft smile as she took a sip of her drink. 

“What are you drinking?” I asked, looking at the red drink. I was assuming some extravagant cocktail but no, I was completely wrong. 

“A Shirley Temple.” She said nonchalantly.

“A Shirley Temple?” I questioned

“A Shirley Temple.” She confirmed with a soft chuckle before taking another sip of the red drink.

“Well your full of surprises aren't you Ms. Bueckers?” I said with a smile.

“And so are you, Ms. Sanchez.” She said, that smirk flashing across her face again.

Paige and I kept up the friendly chatter for the next hour or so, her asking lots of questions about me, and a few about Laila of course. We talked about Dallas, about how she’s excited for this new chapter. We even talked about so depper stuff, how she’s going to miss Uconn, her friends, her coaches, just her life in Storrs. I sympathized with her, telling her about how leaving Austin was difficult for Laila and I, but we love Dallas. I ended up ordering a few drinks, and the bartender gave me the bill. As I reached for it, I felt Paige’s hand on top of mine.

“I got it.” She said.

“What- no. It's your special night. I’m not letting you pay for my drinks.” I protested. I always felt bad to let people pay for me. Plus- Paige had just been drafted the number one pick in the WNBA, she didn't need to be paying for other peoples drinks.

“Please,” she insisted, “I owe you at least this. Without you, I probably would have been sitting in the corner scrolling through my phone all night.” I sighed, slipping my hand out from under hers.

“Thank you. I’ll buy you drinks sometime in Dallas. Promise.” I said, with a genuine smile. I did actually want to hang out with Paige. She was nice, and for some reason felt like someone I could open up to. Nothing like I expected.

“So you're saying there’s going to be a next time?” She said. And there it was. That smirk. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“It’s a possibility.” I shrugged. As I stood up, I wobbled a little on my feet, the few drinks plus heels were definitely not an ideal situation. But, suddenly I felt a warm hand on my side, balancing me.

“You good?” Paige spoke, her hand grounding me.

“Yeha, yeah I’ll be fine,” I said, waving her off, “I’ll just order an Uber or something.” She immediately shook her head, standing up beside me, her hand still holding onto my waist. 

“Nah, let me just take you back. It’s late, your in a city you don’t know, and Uber’s are sketchy anyway.” her hand slid to the small of my back.

“You really don't have to-”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to.” She interrupted, pressing her hand a little more into my back as she started to lead me towards the exit, “Where are you staying?”

“The Hilton, on 5th.” I spoke as we neared the exit. It had gotten pretty late and any stragglers were just randoms, no one giving a second thought to the way Paige was leading me out of the door.

“Perfect, same as me. See? It's not even out of my way.” She spoke as she led me out the back entrance and towards a large black SUV. She opened the back door and began speaking to the driver, “Hey Martin, we'll be taking this lovely lady back with us. She’s staying at the same hotel.”

“Of course, Ms. Bueckers.” The older man in the front seat spoke, not even turning his head.

“Please Martin, it's Paige.” She spoke with a soft chuckle as she shut the door behind us. It was freezing in the car, Martin must have been sitting in the car without any heat on. Even though it was April, it was somehow still cold in New York, well at least compared to Texas. Paige looked at me and noticed my arms wrapped around myself. “Here.” She slid off her suit jacket and handed it to me. I gave her a soft smile, draping her jacket over my shoulder and sliding my arms into it. It smelt really good. I had seen her video with GQ earlier this year where she said she wore this one Valentino cologne, but somehow she made it smell better. The cologne was spicy and woody, but layered with Paige’s neutral smell, it was warm and safe. Why was this affecting me so much? God Mari. 

My phone buzzed as Martin pulled out of the parking spot. 

“Hey Nai, how was she?” I answered the phone, a small smile tugging at my lips, “That's good. Okay… yeah, okay. Talk later Nai, love you.” I hung up the phone and gave Paige a small smile.

“So.. um.. I have a couple of questions.” Paige spoke up. She seemed almost nervous behind her confident persona. 

“Sure, what’s up?” I asked, turning my body a little to face her.

“First, you said you had Laila when you were 19 and she's 4… so that would make you 23?” Paige questioned.

“Yeah, good math Bueckers.” I said, giving her a small playful smirk.

“Ok. And are you single?” She asked the question like it was normal. Like it didn’t make me wonder why the hell she was asking it in the first place.

“Um.. yeah. Yeah I am.” I said, trying to hide the effect the question had on me.

“Okay.” She stated nonchalantly, turning back to face forward. I stared at her in shock.

“Okay? You can’t just ask that and then just act like… like that.” I stated, my voice laced with confusion and a bit of frustration. Paige let out a small chuckle before turning back to face me.

“Well I guess I just wondered if you taking me out for drinks was going to be as friends. But I’ve gotten my answer.” She spoke, the smirk that had now become almost a given when she spoke, spread across her face.

“And what is that?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Well. You’ve been sort of eyeing me all night. You talked to me for over an hour. And you invited me to go out for drinks with you. So, I have concluded that you want it to be a date. And that’s fine by me.” She spoke with the utmost confidence, like there was absolutely no way she could be wrong. 

“No- I- I have a daughter, And I don’t date.” I protested, turning to face the window. Paige just chuckled.

“Whatever you say Mar.” Mar? Did she seriously just call me Mar? No one called me that. But why did I sort of like it? Why did it make me feel something in the pit of my stomach? Why was a small smile creeping onto my face as I stared out the window of the car?

God. What are you doing to me Paige Bueckers?

[missys-mansion-of-mistakes]

March 22nd, 2025. Saturday.

Today was so good! I finally got my new Galaxy tablet's case and I LOVE it! It even comes with a pink mouse too! I put stickers all over it today and had so much fun today.

I also managed to get a lot of GRE studying done with the tab today too. I guess there's a benefit to being excited to use your studying materials-- you get excited to study too.

I have to be more active tomorrow, and I also need to take the library test and do my Communications class assignment.

Let's get this bread!!

What I accomplished:

Studied GRE 2 hours

Studied for the library shelving test I'm taking tomorrow

Input many GRE tasks into Shovel

Went grocery shopping

Wrote a rough draft of an article

Edited a 2nd draft of an article

Posted the article

Called the clinic

Ordered more medication

Wrote 2 Slowly letters